#he was near us in concert recently and she’s still so disappointed she didn’t get tickets

[aintmyjewelry]

we had to eat at raising canes today bc my mom is a post malone fan and she just had to get the exclusive post malone cups ?? 😭

[isletakebarzal]

I Hope I Never Lose You | 1 | Mat Barzal

a/n: my first mat barzal fic. my first fic since......... sh*wn m*nd*s. Here is the first installment of a new elementary school au. pLz leave feedback it has been so long since i've written and I am so ✨insecure✨

summary: you teach kindergarten and Mat Barzal is a P.E. Coach at Cornelia Street Elementary School. i don't know just give me validation plz

warnings: literally didn't even read it over. just copy-paste-post. mutual pining idiots to lovers?? some jealousy and angst???

WC: 5.6K

***

I. “then on a Wednesday in a cafe[teria], I watched it begin again”

You take a deep breath as you inspect your appearance in the teacher’s lounge bathroom at Cornelia Street Elementary. Your kindergarteners will be arriving at your classroom in nearly twenty minutes, so you wanted to get one final look in before starting the school day.

“Who’s the guy?” your friend and co-teacher, Molly, startles you as her figure appears behind you in the mirror.

“What do you mean?” You shake your head, sticking your hands under the sink for the automatic faucet to turn on.

Molly laughs, walking up next to you and leaning up against the counter, “You’re dressing up for someone! You never wore high heels until recently, and you check yourself in the mirror like 6 times a day. Who is it?”

You roll your eyes, pulling paper towels out of the dispenser and wiping your hands dry. “Sniff too much elmer’s glue again, Molly?”

You leave the restroom and lounge with Molly trailing closely behind. Turning into your classroom, you stop in the doorway when you find someone standing in the middle of your classroom, causing Molly to bump into your back.

“There you are!” Mat exclaims when he notices you and Molly enter the room. “I’ve been waiting here for, like, 10 minutes. Why do girls take so long in the bathroom together?”

You let out a nervous laugh. Molly stands at your side, glancing from Mat to you and back to Mat. You can tell she’s connecting the dots as the left corner of her smirk.

“Where else would we gossip about you?” Molly teases, snapping your attention away from Mat. You elbow her in her side, whispering her name scoldingly.

Mat rolls his eyes playfully, “Aww, Molls. Writing our initials in a heart on the bathroom wall again?”

You freeze at his comeback. Is he flirting with Molly? You try your best to remain calm. He’s Mat Barzal, he flirts with everyone.

“What are you doing in here anyway, Barzy?” Molly asks as she further enters the room, setting her briefcase on the desk and leaning up against it. She eyes you, as you haven’t taken one step further into the room. “Don’t you have a PE class to teach?”

Mat stiffens at the question, looking from Molly to you. He fumbles to start his response, “I, uh--” he looks to his immediate left and right, searching for an answer. “I needed a pen.”

Molly barks out a laugh, “a pen?” She turns to you, raising her eyebrows with a pointed look. “Did you hear that, Y/n? He needs a pen.”

You don’t respond to Molly, your body moving on autopilot towards your desk. “Here, I have a pen you can borrow!” You grab the first pen you get your hands on from the container on your desk and hold it out to him, trying your best to keep your hand steady.

Mat’s cheeks grow a rosy tint that matches your own. With a smile he takes the pen, finally looking it over. “Are you sure you won’t miss this one?” The smirk returns to his lips.

You furrow your brows, looking down to the pen he’s holding. It’s a purple glitter pen--your favorite pen. You shrug your shoulders, playing it off as no big deal, “Yeah, no worries. Keep it as long as you need.”

You spare a glance at Molly across the room, and you can tell she’s trying her very hardest not to laugh. The daggers you shoot at her with your eyes fail to get her to control her face.

“Thanks, Y/n, I appreciate it,” he says sweetly, giving you his million-dollar smile that makes all the lunch ladies swoon. “I’ll see you at Lunch Duty?”

You nod enthusiastically, “Totally. See you then.”

Mat stalls for a few seconds, shifting back and forth on his two feet before lifting the pen in another silent thank you. You try not to blush as you give a small wave goodbye, and he leaves the room.

Molly finally blows, erupting into laughter. You turn your attention towards her, a confused expression on your face. “What?”

“I guess that answers my question!” Molly exclaims, wiping an escape tear of laughter from her cheek.

You shake your head, placing your hands on your hips, “What question?”

“Which guy you’re dressing up for,” Molly explains as if it’s clear as day. “Seems to me like you’ve both got it bad.”

You blush again--probably for the 50th time in the last 10 minutes. “That’s it,” you huff. “No more glue for you.”

**

When 12:30 rolls around, Molly takes your class of kindergarteners to the Music Room while you head to the cafeteria for Lunch Duty. There’s nothing glamorous about watching elementary schoolers struggle to open their zebra cakes and milk cartons, but, for some reason, it’s your favorite time of day.

“Miss Y/n!” A voice cheerily calls out to you as you enter the cafeteria, and your gaze instantly lands on the source. That voice could pull you out of a coma. You could pick out that voice in a filled stadium of a Nickelback concert.

Mat waves at you from across the room, pulling out the chair next to him as if to tell you to come sit. You smile and wave back, making your way to him with your lunchbag in hand. It’s your Wednesday ritual to have lunch together, since it’s the only day of the week you are scheduled for Lunch Duty at the same time.

You sit gracefully in the chair next to Mat and set your bag on the table. Mat instantly reaches for it, spinning it one way then another as he searches for the zipper. You grab the lunch bag from his hands and pull it back to your side of the table.

“Excuse you!” You exclaim, playfully.

“Come on, Y/n, I’ve been waiting a week for this!” Mat whines, no better than one of your kindergarteners.

You peek into your bag making sure you have his treat, “Okay, okay.” You reach into the bag and close your fist around the circular fruit that you made sure to pack in your lunch--just like you do every Wednesday.

Mat shoves his hand in the big pocket of his backpack, then looks at you with an eager smile. “Ready? 1...2…” You both bring your hands out of your bags on 3, holding out the respective items for each other.

In the palm of your hand is a Cutie brand clementine, sticker already peeled off. You never really understood why Mat loves these so much, or why he never just buys them for himself, but you’ve been swapping lunch treats since the beginning of the school year.

You were sitting at the lunch table that was angled perpendicular to the student tables in the cafeteria. It was your first Lunch Duty of the year, so you made sure to get in the cafeteria before any of the students came in.

Now that you and Molly were co-teaching this year, you wouldn’t be on Lunch Duty together like you were last year. You didn’t think you should be nervous, being that it’s just Lunch Duty and you already had a year of teaching under your belt, but still, not having the comfort of your best friend around you made you a little more on edge.

No one told you who was going to be on duty with you, so when the new gym P.E. coach, Mat Barzal, strolled into the cafeteria, you stiffened in your seat. You noticed him a bit last year, but it was your first year with your own class of students, and you wanted to focus on being a good teacher rather than good-looking coaches. Mat was new to the school, too, but he seemed to be quick to make friends, talking to anyone around him. Like, anyone.

Like, even a first grader with a hockey AND a superhero obsession that wanted to know which NHL team each superhero would play for. You had eavesdropped on his answers while you were standing near them in the hallway.

(You remember this, because you had to hold yourself back from interjecting when he told the student that Superman would play for the Islanders. He would obviously be a Ranger.)

When he walked into the cafeteria that day, he strolled over to you and sat right down in the chair next to yours, jumping into conversation. You were munching on carrots when you realized that he had yet to pull out any food for lunch.

“Are you hungry?” you blurted out, interrupting whatever thought he was rambling on about while you were...you wouldn’t say staring...more like analyzing.

He deadpanned, “Yeah, but I’ve got some snacks back in the gym. I’m just going to eat them later.”

You shook your head, finding his answer unacceptable. “Here,” you said, looking into your lunch bag for anything to give him. “Do you like clementines?”

A smile spread on Mat’s face, “My mom used to buy them for me and my sister when we were kids. I haven’t had one in forever.”

You handed the fruit to him before he could protest. He accepted it graciously. “I’m Mat, by the way.”

“Y/n,” you told him.

The next week, you made sure to pack a clementine in your bag just in case he didn’t have a lunch again. You tried to hide the disappointment when you walked towards the table and saw that he didn’t actually forget this time.

That is, until you noticed the silver wrapper of a Fruit Roll-Up on the table in front of the empty chair.

“I wasn’t sure what flavor you liked, or if you even like these, but, like, everyone likes these,” Mat explained and you couldn’t hide your blush.

After sitting down next to him, you reached into your bag and pulled out the clementine, sliding it across the tabletop to him. Week after week, this unspoken trade agreement continued, neither one of you having forgotten yet.

You take the Fruit Roll-Up from his hand as he swipes the clementine and starts peeling.

“Oh, it’s the tongue-tattoo one!” You cheer, unrolling the fruit leather from the plastic film. Mat nods enthusiastically, but doesn’t speak, his mouth already full with slices of clementine.

You tear the fruit roll up in half and hold the half with the skull “tattoo” to him.

“No, Y/n, this is our trade. It’s yours,” he pushes your hand back, but you roll your eyes.

“I don’t need the whole roll, and the skull would suit you better,” you persuade him. “Just take it.”

With a smile, Mat takes the half and holds it to the light to find the skull printed in food dye. You hold up your half to tilt the crown “tattoo” to the right angle.

“Okay, ready?” You ask, and Mat nods. “One...two…”

On three, you press the sugary roll to your tongues and hold for a few seconds, making sure it’s long enough for the dye to transfer. You and Mat have done this enough times to know that the sweet spot is around 7 seconds.

Now facing each other in your chairs, you each stick out your tongues to show the other your tattoos. Mat lets out a loud laugh, and can’t help but mirror his reaction. You love this with Mat--getting to goof around with someone and finally laughing again.

Your last relationship ended nearly a year ago, and it left you devastated. You had dated Ryan all through college, and you thought he was going to propose after graduation. Little did you know, he had been applying to medical schools in London, rather than where you were in Seattle. He was never planning forever with you like you were with him.

Needless to say, it’s made you hesitant to start dating again. You don’t trust your instincts with reading people and you definitely don’t trust men.

“Here,” Mat hands his half back to you.

You squish your nose up at him, “Ew, your spit is all over it!”

Mat rolls his eyes playfully and holds the rollup even closer to your face, making you laugh. You try to bat his hand away, but he catches your hand with his free one instead.

“Oh please, it’s just a little slobber. Same as kissing!” He jokes, but the way he’s holding your hand and so easily talking about kissing makes you tense up. You feel like you’re 16 again, developing your very first school-girl crush with the way he’s stirring up dormant butterflies.

You look away, hoping to conceal your now very rosy cheeks, and Mat, thankfully, pretends not to notice. “Fine, mine now,” he shoves the whole rollup in his mouth, and your laughter breaks up the tension in your chest. You fall into easy conversation filled with laughter and banter, and it’s like the room full of rambunctious elementary schoolers doesn’t even exist.

**

II. “don’t you worry your pretty little mind, people throw [kickballs] at things that shine”

“Life just makes love look hard, Y/n,” Molly tells you. You came into school this morning looking down bad, and Molly was quick to figure out the root of the issue.

You saw Ryan last night. With a girl. Wearing a ring on her finger. You knew exactly what ring it was too, as his grandmother had showed it to you at Christmas one year and explained that it would be Ryan’s to give to the one he wanted to spend forever with. At the time you could’ve bet your life that his “one” was you.

You mope in your desk chair, “I know. It took him less than a year to meet someone new, fall in love, and commit. Love isn’t hard, but maybe I’m just hard to love.”

Molly gives you a sad look and opens her mouth to respond, but she is cut off by your classroom door opening. Your already glum face contorts into a sour expression when you see who has entered your classroom.

Alexa.

You spare a glance at Molly, who is already glaring at the 4th grade teacher. You try to hold back the chuckle that is bubbling in your throat. Alexa started working at Cornelia Street Elementary at the same time as you and Molly, but unlike you and your co-teacher, you were not fast friends.

Maybe it was her snarky attitude, or the way she told you and Molly to your faces that “kindergarten teachers are glorified babysitters” on the first day you met her. Either way, you and Molly were not fans.

“Hello, ladies!” Alexa screeches in a high-pitched voice.

Molly deadpans, “Whatever you want, the answer is no.”

Alexa’s nose scrunches in distaste, “I don’t want anything, Molls. I’m here to see if you both have signed up for the teacher-student kickball game next Friday.”

Molly winces at the use of her nickname, “Yes, Alexa. If you had just looked at the sign-up Google Sheet, you would’ve seen that both mine and Y/n’s names were already on the list.”

Alexa shrugs, brushing off Molly’s aggressive tone, “Well, good. I hear that Coach Barzal and Coach Beau will be team captains this year.”

Your body has a visceral reaction to hearing ‘Coach Barzal’, like your ears are rejecting the sound of her witch voice speaking his name. Molly flips her gaze in your direction, giving a smirk.

“Yes, Mat told Y/n the other day that he is going to be a team captain,” Molly lies between her teeth. He never told you that, but if there’s one thing Molly knows, it’s how to get under Alexa’s skin.

And she does. Alexa’s face pinches before clearing her throat, “It’s a shame none of us can have him, isn’t it?”

You and Molly mirror each other with confused expressions. “What do you mean?” you question.

“I mean, section 34.12B in the School Handbook,” Alexa replies as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Molly rolls her eyes, “And what is section 34.12B in the School Handbook?”

Alexa’s lips curl smugly, “Section 34 is the Teacher Code of Conduct, silly. And rule 12B clearly states that teachers working in the same school are not allowed to intermingle romantically or, well, otherwise. Any infraction will result in one of the teachers being immediately transferred to another school in the county.”

Your stomach drops, and Molly looks at you with a sorrowful expression.

“Didn’t either of you read the handbook when you started?” Alexa asks condescendingly. In truth, neither you nor Molly read that brick of a handbook. If you remember correctly, you think you ended up using it as a doorstop in your old classroom last year. No clue what happened to it after that.

“Of course we read it,” Molly, again, lies. “We’re just not psycho enough to have it memorized.”

Alexa glares at Molly. “I didn’t memorize it. I just recently refreshed my memory after talking to Coach Barzal the other day. He had asked me to get drinks with him, so I wanted to see what the policy was on dating colleagues.”

You whip your head to Molly, a confused expression on your face. Molly takes your reaction in stride and stands from her seat at her desk.

“This has been so fun, Alexa,” Molly walks towards the 4th grade teacher at the classroom door, who takes the hint and starts backing up. “But we have to prepare for a day of babysitting, so if you don’t mind…”

Molly backs Alexa out of the doorway and shuts the door in her face. She leans back on the door to find you sitting with a sad puppy look on your face.

“I’m sure she was bullshitting like she always does,” Molly tells you.

You sigh and slump into your chair. An airy chuckle escapes Molly’s lips and you flick your eyes to her face, wondering what could possibly be funny.

“What? Why are you laughing?”

Molly shakes her head, muffling more laughs.

“Come on, spit it out.”

“It’s nothing,” Molly starts, a smile growing on her lips. “I just fucking knew it.”

You furrow your brows, “Knew what?”

“Knew you had a thing for Coach Barzal.”

**

You really don’t want to play kickball, if you’re being honest. You always hated gym class growing up, because you weren’t necessarily skilled in hand-eye coordination. The only reason you signed up for this student-teacher kickball game for the upper grades was for Molly. And...someone else.

Mat and his co-coach, Tito, are standing in the middle of the gym giving instructions to the 4th and 5th grade classes. The rules are simple: kick, run, and no cheap shots. You’re not sure if 4th graders were capable of taking cheap shots, but you realize that this rule might not be directed at them. If you’ve learned anything over the last year or so of teaching, it’s that adults are just really big Big Kids.

Once they finish explaining to the students and teachers how the game will work, Mat announces that it’s time to pick teams. The students are counted off by twos for their teams to make sure no kid feels like they’re being picked last--especially by the teacher--but the teachers are to be specifically chosen by the captains.

Tito, the captain of the A team, scans the crowd of teachers for his first pick. “Mr. Kessler,” Tito picks the 3rd grade teacher first. It’s a great first pick, since David Kessler apparently played sports in college.

Mat looks at the group like he’s searching for someone, and his eyes land on you. The right corner of his lips pulls up into a smirk. Your palms start sweating--either due to the nerves of feeling like you’re back in grade school again, or from the way he is looking at you.

“Mr. Peterson,” Mat’s gaze leaves yours as he picks the 5th grade parapro. Again, you don’t think it’s a bad idea to start setting up the team with the best players before moving on to, well, you.

The two coaches go back and forth until all of the seemingly more athletic teachers are assigned teams. When it’s time for Tito to pick again, his eyes land directly on you. You look to your left, then to your right, then behind you, just to make sure he wasn’t looking through you to someone else. But no one else looked like they were paying enough attention to be the one he was focusing on.

A smirk draws up Tito’s lips as he looks at Mat. Mat rolls his eyes and pushes his shoulder, making Tito teeter a bit. “Just pick, man,” Mat urges, and Tito looks back at you.

“Molly,” Tito chooses, and you release a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

Molly lets out an airy laugh and nudges you with her elbow, “Damn, they’re splitting us up.”

You roll your eyes, but on the inside your stomach flutters at the thought of being chosen by Mat. He glances your way every so often that you think it might be coming, but you try to keep your cool.

“Umm,” Mat starts, like he’s about to think out loud. “I’ll pick…” Mat’s eyes scan the group and he stops on you for a brief moment, but passes you over. “Alexa.”

Your heart drops into your ass.

You look to Molly, hoping that her usual cool and collected demeanor will level you, but she’s speaking lowly to Tito with furrowed brows.

“Y/n, you’re on my team,” Tito calls out next. You make your way towards the rest of the A team, and, despite the voice in your head screaming ‘don’t look at him, don’t look at him’...you look at Mat, gauging his reaction.

He looks completely unbothered. A smile is even gracing his face. It’s not like you thought he was necessarily interested in you, but, fuck, you at least thought he liked you better than Alexa. And now you’re wondering if there was any truth to her comments in your classroom last week.

Once the teams are sorted out, the captains flip a coin to decide who will kick first. Tito calls heads while the coin is in the air, and sure enough the coin lands on heads. Tito calls a huddle while Mat gets his team organized into positions.

“Alright team, listen up,” he starts, clapping his hands once. “We need a strong offensive start.”

The students jump around excitedly as Tito lines them up along the gym wall behind the designated “home plate”. He orders the team with one teacher kicking after every few students.

Molly is in the front of the line with Thomas, an eager 4th grader ready to play. He walks to the plate, backs up a few steps, and waits for Mat to pitch the ball. Mat winds up before releasing the ball in a (relatively) straight line to Thomas.

Thomas runs up to the ball, going for the kick, and….he misses. Tito jogs up to him, squatting to his level. “It’s okay, bud, let’s try again. You can do it, just keep your eye on the ball.”

The little boy nods and steps back up to the plate. Tito nods at Mat who winds up and rolls the ball once more. A little more cautiously this time, Thomas runs for the ball. He swings back his left foot and propels it forward, making contact with the ball and sending it soaring towards Mat.

Mat lets the ball drop in front of him, fumbling around to pick it up while Thomas runs to first base. Once he’s about halfway there, Mat tosses the ball to one of the fifth graders who is guarding the base. Thomas, unsurprisingly, is safe.

A few more students and teachers take turns kicking the ball, and before you know it, there are two students and Molly on base with two outs on the board. You were hoping that you would be able to linger in the back of the line long enough to avoid taking a turn, but Tito calls you up to the plate.

“Okay, Miss Y/n, bring ‘em home!” Tito encourages, and you roll your eyes at him.

“Doubtful,” you respond. Walking up to the plate, you make eye contact with Mat, waiting for him to roll you the ball. He takes a deep breath and raises his eyebrows to you.

“Ready?” He calls out.

You shake your head, “No, but do I have a choice?”

Mat laughs. ‘You got this!” he tells you, and winds up to roll the ball. Maybe he does it on purpose, but when he rolls the ball, it veers off to the left.

“Come on, Barzy, give her something she can work with!” Tito chirps, as Mat jogs to grab the ball from one of the students that picked it up.

Instead of returning to his makeshift pitcher’s mound, Mat strides towards you, catching you off guard.

“What are you doing, Mat?”

“You looked nervous,” he says. “Thought you could use a better pep talk than Beauvis over there.”

“It’s...elementary school kickball,” you say with a laugh.

Mat rolls his eyes, “This is a very serious game, Y/n. There’s a lot at stake.”

The smirk that forms on his lips sends a ripple down your spine. “Like what? A pizza party?” you joke.

Mat pushes your shoulder playfully, and a shout erupts from the sidelines. You both look to where Tito is standing with his arms raised in question. “Quit messing with my teammate, Barzal!” Tito yells.

Mat waves him off. “Keep your eye on the ball, and I’ll roll it slowly. Kick with the inside of your foot to get more distance, and, for the love of God, take off those dumb sandals.”

You look down at the strappy sandals on your feet. “What? They’re cute and comfortable!“

Mat rests a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it comfortingly. “Cute until you break an ankle. Just trust me and do it, Miss Y/n!”

You roll your eyes and kick your shoes off to the side while Mat backs up to the middle of the gym. You step up to the plate again and Mat winds up his pitch. The ball rolls in a straight line towards you, and you take his advice by kicking the ball from the inside of your foot. It’s a hard kick, too, so the ball soars over towards second base.

“RUN!” Tito yells from the sidelines, urging everyone on base to get moving. The student that was on 3rd base waddles home, scoring a run for your team, while the fielders scramble to get the ball.

There are some mishaps in passing the ball between the 4th and 5th graders in the field, so Molly is able to run home as well as you round first base. You look to Mat to find that he’s yelling at you to run to second, despite being on your opposing team, which coincides with the screams from Tito behind you. Now you're really thankful you took off those sandals.

You take off from first base towards second base, when out of the corner of your eye, you see Alexa grab the ball straight out of a 4th grader’s hands. She winds her arm back and throws the ball right at you, probably as hard as she can by the sting of contact on your left arm.

“Out!” Alexa yells as you slow your pace to a stop. “That’s three!”

The teams start shuffling as they switch from field to kicking and vice versa. You stay in your place, figuring you’ll just linger in the “outfield” anyway, while Molly comes up to you.

“That bitch is a dirty player,” Molly spits, turning to glance at Alexa. “Did you see how she just ripped the ball from a kid? Geez.”

“It’s just the game,” you brush it off, not wanting to seem fazed by how she so obviously was out to get you. You don’t realize Mat walks up to you and Molly until you feel a hand rest on the small of your back.

“Are you okay?” Mat asks, moving his hand to gently brush the red spot on your arm where the ball hit you.

You try not to blush at the contact as you nod and wave him off, “Yeah, yeah, I’m good.”

“Tough play, but it was a great kick,” Mat tries to be encouraging. “Who knew Lex could hustle like that.”

You wince at the nickname and look at Molly, who is sporting a scowl.

“Lex could’ve knocked a kid unconscious if she had missed,” Molly retorts, and Mat clears his throat awkwardly and removes his arm.

He shrugs his shoulders, “Yeah, I guess she could’ve.” There’s a brief pause and you hear Tito in the background positioning his students on the field. “So, Y/n--”

“Mat--I mean, Coach Barzal!” Alexa’s voice rings through the gym, interrupting Mat. “Come over here!”

“I think you should get back to your team, Mat,” you tell him. “Wouldn’t want to keep your star player waiting.”

He frowns at you, but nods, “Yeah, guess so.”

You didn’t mean to sound jealous--you really have no right to be. You weren’t even sure why you were so affected by the idea of Mat and Alexa. It’s not like there is a Mat and Y/n.

Well, maybe you do know why. You watch as Mat jogs over to his team, giving each kid a high five and circling them up for a pep talk. You can hear their laughs and cheers at his words of encouragement, and you smile involuntarily. He is so good with the kids and he really cares about them--you can tell that he puts his heart into what he does.

“Ready, team?” Tito’s voice breaks you out of your thoughts. The rest of your team cheers in response and Tito starts the next inning.

The rest of the game flies by with excitement. You all only make it a few more innings before it’s time for the kickball game to end and everyone to finish out their Friday school day. Tito was overjoyed, to put it lightly, when his A Team won the game, and you could tell he was already taunting Mat with it. Mat, though extremely competitive throughout the game, was a good sport about it in front of his B Team.

Since your and Molly’s class would still be in their Music Class for another 10 minutes or so, you two stayed back in the gym while the 4th and 5th grade teachers got their students together.

“Well, ladies, it was a good game,” Tito says to you and Molly, giving you both high fives. “Sorry you got blitzed, Y/n.”

You let out a laugh, “Thanks Beau, but it wasn’t that bad, was it?”

Tito rubs his hand on the back of his neck, “I don’t know. Alexa went for blood with that hit.”

Molly scoffs, “Alexa is going to taste blood next time she pulls something like that.” You bump Molly with your hip, giving her a pointed look, but Tito just laughs at her comment and falls into conversation with Molly.

You eye the way Molly reacts to making Tito laugh, a wave of something resembling pride or satisfaction washing over her. You haven’t seen her look...giddy like this until watching her talk to Tito. Interesting, you think.

After a few minutes, you decide it’s time to pick up your kids from the Music Room, and you tell Molly she can just catch up with you in the classroom in a bit. You make sure to give her a suggestive smirk, glancing back and forth from her to Tito without him picking up on it. She rolls her eyes and waves her hand at you, gesturing to you to exit.

As you’re walking out of the gym, though, Mat calls out to you, jogging towards you before you can leave.

“Y/n! Wait up a second!”

You turn towards him as he slows down in front of you. “What’s up?”

“Um, where are you headed off to?” He asks, almost like he is stalling.

You furrow your brows, but respond, “Gotta pick up our class from Music.”

Mat nods, “Oh, yeah, for sure. Shouldn’t Molls be with you?”

You glance back at your friend, where she is laughing and twirling a strand of her hair while talking to the young coach. “Nah, I can handle it this time. She’s...preoccupied.”

Mat follows your gaze and lets out a snort, “Tito is so hopeless. He’s been gone for her for so long now.”

“Oh yeah?” You question, thinking maybe this could be a chance to set Molly up with a nice guy. If there’s one thing you’ve learned about Molly, it’s that she usually has terrible taste in men. “How do you know? Has he said something?”

Mat shakes his head, “No, but he doesn’t have to. I mean, guys are so much easier to read than girls. Like, if a guy is interested in a girl? You’ll definitely be able to tell.”

You have to keep your shoulders from slumping. You think back to all the times you’ve interacted with Mat, and you can’t recall one instance of Mat acting the way Tito is with Molly right now.

“Yeah,” you sigh, looking back at the pair. “I guess you’re right.”

**

OKKKKKKK SOOOOOOOOOOO TELL ME WHAT U THINK HELLO PLZ FEED ME BACK FEEDBACK LOOP FEED ME WHAT DO WE THINK?????????????????????????????????????

[fushiguromi]

soundtracks — semi eita

synopsis: during your college life, semi eita already likes you. He indirectly confessed his feelings by singing a song to you, but you didn’t realize that the song he sang was his feelings for you.

pairing: semi x fem!reader

genre: fluff; college to timeskip; band au

word count: 3.6k

a/n: all songs and lyrics that are used in this story were my own composition, so i’m sorry if it’s not good HAHAHAHHA well, i tried my best hehe

The sun is up while you grumpily walk around the quadrangle of your school. It’s a hell day for you and you’re exhausted because of the homework, quizzes, and projects that you need to accomplish within a week.

As an honor student, you don’t want to disappoint your parents. You found a bench table beside a tall tree. You sat down and you fixed your hair and wipe your sweats around your face.

This day isn’t going well for you, your favorite sweater almost got ruined by a student that almost spilled a coffee towards you.

You roamed your eyes around. Many students are on the bench tables with their friends laughing and talking.

You took out your books to review for your upcoming quiz tomorrow. You were focusing on studying the book when you heard the strumming of the guitar and a soothing beautiful voice of a man.

Looking annoyed you looked up to see who’s disturbing your study time.

A man with a guitar placed on his elevated thigh singing for his friends. His aura and his looks reminded you of the handsome heartthrob that only knows how to break hearts with just a snap of his fingers.

He was biting his lower lip while his eyes were closed. The way his fingers shifted every time he changed chords and continuously plucking the strings of his guitar amazed you and to think that what his fingers can do to you.

You shook your head immediately because of that thought.

You had seen a lot of people playing with a guitar, but no one looked so passionate and angelic as him. He was like falling in love with music with the way he played each chord to create a melodious sound.

He looked oblivious to his surroundings as he played. Like he has his world just for himself and his guitar.

Music fills the air without effort, the sound rushing in and around every person in the place. Some react to the beat, others continue in chatter.

After his performance, his friends cheered and clapped for him. He just smirked and you didn’t realize that you were smiling widely at him until he looked at you.

“Semi! Your performance was so good!” A girl with short hair said to Semi and clings her arms on his.

Was it double meaning? Wait, what the hell?

You quickly averted your eyes on him and covered your face with the book you were holding earlier.

Until that day, you didn’t see him around the campus. But after he caught your attention, you happened to keep on crossing paths with him.

The next day, you found out that their band is famous around your place because they have gigs every Friday and Saturday at the cafe & bar near your school.

You heard that there is an event that’s happening at the gym tonight, so you went there to watch the battle of the bands. This is your first time to give attention to your school’s event because all you do was to study.

You narrowed your eyes while looking at Semi. They are preparing for the event. He’s holding his guitar while talking to his bandmates.

A lot of people came to the gym to support and watch them. While you stand there, Semi scanned his eyes around and stopped when his eyes met yours.

He looked stunned for a moment but he smiled and quickly averted his eyes.

The event started and you were amazed that a lot of bands participated in this event, but Semi’s band is different than the others.

They were really into it and feels like a concert. They made the stage and crowd theirs, many students cheered for them and the judges even gave them a standing ovation.

You were just smiling and clapping the whole evening, their song covers were on point, so this is what it feels like to watch them play?

You’re doing your essay at the bench table that you found yesterday. It’s peaceful and cloudy outside so you decided to settle there.

While you were typing on your laptop, someone sits down in front of you. Your eyes caught a glimpse of a cool guitar strap and you looked up to see the man yesterday smiling at you.

“You don’t have to be intimidated,” he assured you.

He placed his guitar on the table and you saw that he was also carrying a notebook and a marker.

You stared at him while he’s writing something in his notebook. He felt your gaze on him so he looked up.

“Sorry, am I disturbing you?” He asked while tapping his foot on the ground.

“Uh, no. I’m almost finished with my essay.” You replied. He smiled and nods.

You quickly finished your essay so you can look at him.

You glanced at his handwriting. It looked pretty neat and somehow understandable. You got curious, so you quickly read what he wrote on the page.

Invisible Line

You immediately recalled the lyrics he sang yesterday to his friends and the words written on the notebook was the same lyrics.

“You wrote that song?” You asked him.

“Yes, I did.” He smiled, then turned his head on you. “Did you like it?” You felt your cheeks blushed because you remembered how wide your smile was.

Biting your lower lip, you nodded.

“I sometimes come here to think about and write songs.” He told you. “But right now, I’m having trouble getting inspiration but then I saw you...”

Your lips slightly parted. You could feel your heart beating against your chest so hard. You had crushes with boys, but you never felt this kind of feeling.

You ignore him because you don’t know what to say. He writes so fast but you had a glimpse of the lyrics he was writing.

He grabbed his guitar and placed it on his thigh. He started strumming and looked at his notebook before singing.

We’re close but never together

I have to find a way, to get her next to me

So can we close the space between us now?

The distance that we don’t need

I kept collecting shooting stars

Just to wish for us

She’s everything I need

My safe haven...

He stares at you while he sings but after a while, he closed his eyes and bobbed his head to the sound.

As you stared at him, you realized that the Creator favored him so much that he was given such an attractive look— he has messy ash blonde hair with dark tips, his eyes are brown, perfect naturally trimmed eyebrows, and chiseled jaw.

He ends the song with a beautiful instrumental sound before he opens his eyes and smiled at you.

“What do you think?” He asked you while he put his head on his arm that was on the guitar.

You’re lost for a moment before replying, “I loved it,” you smiled and gave him a thumbs up. He chuckled and nodded his head, contented.

He picks up something from his bag. He suddenly gave out his guitar pick to you.

You only stared at it. You don’t know if you will get it.

“Here, take it.” He urged you. “It’s a thank you gift.” You stared at him confused.

“For what?”

You had no idea why he was giving out his guitar pick as a thank you gift. When you just met each other!

“Thank you for being my inspiration,” he answered. You could feel your cheeks heating up.

He took your hand, laid out your palm, and put his guitar pick there. It was a white guitar pick and it looked like a pearl or marble. There were small letters written on the edge.

S.E

That’s his initials.

“Won’t you be using this?” You asked him, even if you didn’t want to return it.

“Oh, don’t worry. I still have an extra at home.” He replied.

He suddenly holds your hand. Your hand rested on his palm, while he removed the lid of his pen using his mouth. He was drawing something on his guitar pick.

You felt like losing your sanity as you stared at the pick he gave you three years ago. The small heart he drew beside his initials was still there.

You didn’t see him again after that. You tried to go out again to the bench table a few times, but you didn’t see him at all.

Every time you’re stressed or sad, you would listen to the song inside your head. You engraved it in your memory the way he sings it.

I want to cross the line for her

But fate doesn’t want me to

I’ll just stare at her from afar

Even if it hurts...

“Zero Effect’s new album becomes the new best-selling album for the alternative rock band...”

Your eyes widened and you stopped what you’re doing when you heard a very familiar voice and song. It made you feel so nostalgic.

You looked up to the monitor in front and saw the news with a music video of the song playing through the speakers of the cafe.

It’s him! After three years... you finally saw him. Even through the screen.

Your heart gone wild and beating so loudly that you thought it would break.

“Semi Eita..” You whispered his name, after reading a piece of information about him and his band. “Zero Effect...”

You didn’t know how many times you watched their music video after you got home. You couldn’t stop yourself smiling.

You decided to check their social media accounts. Zero Effect have eight hundred thousand followers and it was following all the band members' accounts.

You followed them all before stalking Semi’s account. He had over five hundred thousand followers already.

His pinned tweet was a tweet that was promoting their latest album and his recent tweet was a picture of him and his bandmates.

@ZeroEffectJP

The interview video of Zero Effect’s ‘Fading Polaroid’ album is out now!

youtube./ZEfadingpolaroid

#ZeroEffectFPOutNow

There was a video link for their interview about the concept of their new album. You clicked on it.

The Zero Effect’s members appeared on the screen with the interviewer.

Your eyes immediately focused on Semi. He was wearing a sweater with like a blazer that’s fuzzy and a cross pendant necklace.

“We have here with us, the rising alternative rock band, Zero Effect!” The interviewer announced, and the members clapped their hands while smiling widely.

“Introduced yourselves first before we start our interview.”

“Hello, I’m Eita, the lead vocalist and guitarist of Zero Effect.”

You clapped your hands so hard after he was done with his introduction. You felt so proud. He was just a teenage boy before making music at school and make gigs on the weekends.

“Hi everyone! I’m Ryo, the bass guitarist.” He smiled at the camera and wink.

“What’s up? Hi! I’m Eiji, the leader, and keyboardist of Zero Effect.” Among the four of them, he’s the more serious and uptight one.

“Hellooo!! I’m Shiro, the drummer of the band.” He waved at the camera and smiled.

You laughed. The drummer always had that different effect than the others.

Whenever Semi smiles, you would pause the video to screenshot it. He looked so dashing.

After their introduction, the interviewer asked them questions about their album and personal life.

“So Eiji, how did you four meet?”

“We met during our college days,” Eiji answered. “We play as a band since then and we also had our gigs on the weekends.”

“Oh, okay so well, let’s talk about your new album!” The interviewer shifted the topic, “can you say something about that, Eita?”

Nodding his head, Semi looked at the interviewer. “Well, our first mini album is entitled Fading Polaroid. It contains five songs, and it is about lost love. It is an alternative rock ballad, which is composed and arranged by all of us.” He explained the concept of their album.

“There’s this one song called Invisible Line on the album that makes the fangirls, you know, like mixed emotions because of its lyrics. What is it about?” The interviewer got curious as she looked at Semi.

“Uh, okay..” he said awkwardly, “I wrote it three years ago.”

Your lips parted. You recalled that song because he sang it to you before.

“It’s about liking someone but the two of you can’t be together because there’s this invisible line between you two, but the guy wants to be with the girl.” He said, then smiled slightly.

“What inspires you to write that song? If there is?” She asked.

“Uhmm.. Yes, there is..” he said hesitantly.

Realizations hit you and your lips parted.

“I met this girl at our school where we used to study before,” he started talking about that day. “I always see her but I don’t have enough courage to walk up and talk to her, but one day I saw her smiled while I sing and that’s when I tried to open up to her.”

You stared at him while he talked about that day. You didn’t even know that the song he sang was for you.

“Oh.. So, you wrote that song for a girl, huh?” She teased Semi and made it sound scandalous.

“Yes, you can say that.” Semi answered and shifted on his seat.

“Did this girl get to hear the song?” She asked more.

“Yeah, she did.” Semi nodded his head a bit. “But only the chorus part.”

“Semi... I heard it now.” You told him through the screen. “I love it so much that it makes my heart hurt.”

“Do you still have contact with the girl?”

Semi shook his head, “I... I tried to but I don’t know how.” He explained and it made your eyes widened.

“Oh, then why don’t you use this chance to send a message to her?” The interviewer looked so excited as she looked at Semi.

His bandmates laughed, teasing him. They were urging him to look at the camera and do what the interviewer asked him to.

You don’t know what to do now as you looked at him on the screen. Your heart just doesn’t stop racing.

“Uhmm.. Hello?” His bandmates snickered beside him.

Semi already stared at the camera and spoke, “If you’re watching this, thank you for inspiring me to write songs,” he said and you felt your eyes are burning.

“Wherever you are right now, I hope you’re doing well and happy and I hope the song that I wrote for you can make you feel what I’m trying to say for you.” His bandmates clapped so hard and they were cheering for him.

Your lips curled upwards and nodded. The interview continued but you couldn’t focus because of Semi.

You had never idolized someone so much in your life. But at that moment, you were determined to support the band in any way.

Your hands trembled as you looked at the screen of your laptop. You just purchased a VIP ticket for Zero Effect’s meet and greet that will be happening today.

It was a surprise announcement for the fans. You’re glad that you immediately saw the announcement and instantly got a ticket.

There were only ten people that will occupy the VIP seats. Your lucky to be the one who got the last ticket.

As time passes by, you’re feeling nervous. What if he will not recognize you?

He’s an artist now, and you’re just his fan.

You’re driving towards the venue and you feel your heart beating so loud. You parked outside and showed your ticket to the guard.

When you got inside, you sat down on the chair for the VIPs and the stage is now fixed. There are guitars, mic stands, a piano, and a drum set.

The venue immediately filled up with Zero Effect’s fans and the chattering was so loud until a woman announced that the meet and greet will begin shortly.

“Okay! Let’s welcome, Zero Effect!” The woman said.

“We’ll be singing our second song from our album called Miss Sweater.” Ryo, their bass guitarist said and suddenly there’s a loud sound coming from the drums.

She said she likes my song

With a smile on her face

Oh, the way her bright eyes looks at me

Makes my heart shakes

The smiles she gives are so contagious

Now, she’s moving close (moving close)

My heart is racing

Head to toe, you know she’s dressed to kill

Semi looked over the crowd. There must have been at least two hundred people watching him, bathing in the dim different colors of lights of the venue, as he clutched tightly to his guitar. Pumping the music through his veins as he lost himself in the performance.

Nerves were trying to take over your body, as you stared at him up close. Eventually, he lost all sense of everything except for the music, it flows through his veins and swirls in his head. It makes his fingers strums and his foot tap.

His velvet voice brings the lyrics, the music is his external heartbeat and the lyrics are your soul in sweet vibrations.

It’s her mouth and those lips

I want to taste ‘em

It’s her eyes and her face

I want to stare ‘em

Can’t tame my heart alone

When she’s this close

Can we stop the time?

Where are we leading now?

The feelings, all of it is right there, when in that momentary exchange of glances when your eyes met and you smiled to him.

He seemed lost for a moment looking at you but he returned the smile, not leaving his eyes on you. So though the world may love their music, their words and their songs, music really only lives in those intense moments of love.

After the short performance, you lined up for the meet and greet. You became nervous as the line moves. And after nine people, it’s your turn now.

You walked to the other members, the first one is Ryo, the bass guitarist. He looked up to look so surprised.

“Hi! Your name is?” He asked while he took your hand to shake. You gave out the album for him to sign.

“Y/n. I really love your music.” While he signs the album he can’t stop stealing glances from you.

“Really? Well, someone is always inspired to compose,” he smirked. “Anyway, thank you for attending here today, I appreciated it.” He smiled and his eyes disappeared and you chuckled.

He stopped smiling as you smiled, “you look pretty while smiling.” Your eyebrows were raised because of what he said.

“Thank you..” that’s the only thing you said and moved on to their keyboardist, Eiji.

“Hello! Wow, that shirt is so cute! Nice choice.” He pointed at your shirt and laughed. You looked at your shirt with their chibi faces. You chuckled and give him the album.

“Yeah, you looked cute here.” You teased him. He immediately coughed, “thank you..” he looked carefully to the side where Semi was.

One more and then you will finally talk to Semi.

“Good Afternoon! How are you?” Shiro, the band’s drummer asked you while signing their album.

“Hello! I’m fine.” He finally looked up and his eyes widened. He quickly looked at Semi but averted his eyes.

“Uhm... Thank you for coming. Hope to see you, uh, soon, Y/n..” He blabbered and you looked at him surprised because he knows your name.

You suddenly got pushed by a woman who excitedly greets the band’s drummer. The guard blocked the girl’s way and kicked her outside because she came back again after her turn.

Your eyes met with Semi who instantly stand up, eyes widened, and looked so lost for a moment. You stared at him and feel the rush of blood to your cheeks.

“Y/n...” He whispered, but you quickly heard it and smiled at him.

“Uh, hello? Long time no see, Semi.” You said nervously. He shook his head to come back to his senses.

He pulled your hand but stopped when he felt something there. He looked at your palm and saw his guitar pick that he gave you.

“You still have it,” he mumbled. You nodded at him. He pulled your hand to go to their tent. You looked at his muscled back and broad shoulders.

“Do you still remember me?” He asked you while he sat down on the chair. He pulled one on his side and tapped it for you to sit down.

“Of course, Semi. You’re the one who liked me back in college..” you chuckled because he looked so shy when you said that.

“Well, yeah. I indirectly confessed to you buy singing the song I wrote for you.” You pursed your lips to prevent smiling.

“I’m so stupid for not realizing it.” He smiled and pouted before averting his eyes when you looked at him.

“So, what will happen to us now?” You asked. He turned his head at you fast.

“What do you mean us? Do you even like me?” He narrowed his eyes at you.

You looked at him straight in the eyes, “I started liking you when we were in college, right when you sang that song for me. But after that, you left.” You explained and he bit his lower lip before standing up.

“I left because I need to fix something first before proving to you that you deserve me. But fate has different plans for me so...” he said and pulled your elbow. He carefully put his chin on top of your head while he wrapped his arms around you.

“I’m sorry that we never happened before,” he sadly said, “but we can start all over again. Right this time.” You pushed him away to look at him.

Your heart was pounding so loudly as you stare at him. Slowly, you nodded. He smiled and hugs you.

“You are the soundtrack of my life, keeps me moving and passionate, and whenever our song plays, you are there, reminding me that you’re whispering in my ears...” You hugged him tightly and felt your eyes tearing up.

You only keep humming while he sings the song he wrote for you. He gently placed his hands on your waist, stared at you before he kissed your forehead.

BONUS:

[theunderdogwrites]

In Defense of Marilyn Manson

Just kidding.

This is another one of those ‘if you live under a rock, you might not know what is going on’ pieces. But because this story appears to be unfolding daily, I’d think you’ve heard a murmur here or there even if you haven’t really paid too much attention to it because for many, I think this may fall into the “that guy has been a messed-up weirdo for years so I’m not surprised” category.

Please note that in NO WAY I am making fun of this situation, but I learned a long time ago that I require a certain amount of humor to be able to digest much of what this world presents to me.

As always, let me give you the Coles Notes version with the hopes you will go and do your own reading as well.

On February 1 actress Evan Rachel Wood posted this on her Instagram:

"The name of my abuser is Brian Warner, also known to the world as Marilyn Manson. He started grooming me when I was a teenager and horrifically abused me for years. I was brainwashed and manipulated into submission. I am done living in fear of retaliation, slander or blackmail. I am here to expose this dangerous man and call out the many industries that have enabled him, before he ruins any more lives. I stand with the many victims who will no longer be silent."

Quick history lesson – They started dating in 2007 when she was 18 and he was 34 and were engaged for a brief time in 2010.

This was Manson’s response to what she wrote:

"Obviously, my art and my life have long been magnets for controversy, but these recent claims about me are horrible distortions of reality. My intimate relationships have always been entirely consensual with like-minded partners. Regardless of how - and why - others are now choosing to misrepresent the past, that is the truth."

Since the original statement on February 1 a number of women have come forward with stories of their own ranging from physical and emotional abuse to human trafficking. And everyday something new is revealed. Evan Rachel Woods is feverishly posting on her Insta-Story and is slowly burying Manson in an ocean of consequences. She isn’t “fired up” or “a woman scorned”, she is a victim rising above the shame she has felt and the fear of what others will say about her to tell her story and encourage others to do the same. She is the voice that started the ball rolling. The ball that is about to crush Marilyn Manson.

Whenever I write stuff that is currently being heavily featured in the media, I always dive into articles so I can get as much information as possible. But more importantly, I plunge my sensitive little soul into the murky depths known as “the comments section”. I do this because unlike those polished, finished pieces the comments section will give you a better idea of what your fellow human beings think and feel about the topic at hand. And it is never polished or even polite. And often not for the faint at heart. In case you didn’t already know – people can be quite terrible.

The comments section is the modern-day gladiator pit. Only most (not all) of the participants are not ripped, athletic warriors but rather drooling basement dwellers with one hand down their pants (not gender specific by the way) and the other hand maltreating the letters on their keyboard.

Side note: Look, I am not the grammar police as I often just push past all the warnings from the Gestapo editing program in Microsoft Word. BUT I know the value of proper spelling, well placed punctuation and valid attempts to appear smarter than a domesticated turkey by making sure sentences are well-thought out and complete. Raising your argument doesn’t mean USING ALL CAPS AND ABUSING THESE THINGS -> !!!

I just deleted three paragraphs going over the recent “reckoning” that has taken place in the past few years with regards to sexual and physical abuse accusations against (mostly) men in positions of some kind of power. I eliminated all that writing because I started to tumble off topic. I’m not writing about all the dicks now getting their comeuppance, but rather the reactions to it being Marilyn Manson’s turn in the chamber.

Victim shaming is sadly a real thing.

The easiest way I can explain this to you – if a person gets pickpocketed and then blamed because they should’ve known better than to carry their wallet in their back pocket.

Evan Rachel Woods and others have come out to accuse Manson of some pretty appalling acts of abuse and what I’ve found to be the biggest reaction is, “How did they not know he was a bad guy? His music is so graphic and they thought it was all an act? Why did they stay so long?”. As innocent as those questions might seem, and I say that because our brains don’t always serve us or others well, it is a form of discrediting those women. Let’s be honest here… it’s hard to look at Marilyn Manson and his art form and not say, “What the fuck, this guy has bad idea written all over him!”. I feel that is a perfectly reasonable response, but that is where it should end. I think it is fair to pause and attempt to understand the choices of others, but it’s heartless to minimize their experience by placing blame on them for a situation we couldn’t possibly understand if it has never happened to us.

And like I’ve quoted before: People only understand from their level of perception. But that doesn’t stop them from laying on the judgement and damaging already fragile individuals with their inability to show compassion for a fellow human being. Reading through comment sections isn’t just maddening, it’s disappointing and sad but also a real look into how awful many people feel about themselves… to the point where they seem to derive some pleasure or satisfaction from condemning a rape victim for wearing a short skirt and getting drunk.

So… we have to touch on this to be balanced: innocent until proven guilty. Only these days it’s an automatic trial by media with the public acting as judge, jury and executioner. This is where “cancel culture” steps in and within days can destroy an entire career / life. I am not a fan of cancel culture. It does not give people a chance to learn from their mistakes or make amends as it immediately harms their very existence. Often times even before any proof has surfaced. I don’t think I need to tell you how dangerous this is… the fact that just an accusation could ruin your life.

Let me make this clear: if someone comes forward and claims they’ve been sexually assaulted/abused, they need to be taken seriously and not dismissed based upon the circumstances, their gender identity, the color of their skin, their economic position or profession or the person they’re accusing. In turn, the individual being accused should be given time to address the claims before the public begins demolishing their life.

A reoccurring comment in almost all these cases where someone comes forward and alleges abuse YEARS after it happened, is – “Why did they wait so long to come forward?”.

Is this a fair question? Sure. And I feel it is asked because our brain needs to find a way to understand the information we are being given. Because while we’d all like to think that if in the same situation we’d be unfuckable with and anyone who dared to bring damage to our doorstep would immediately suffer the consequences, we actually cannot predict our reaction. There are too many unknown variables to be able to confidently say we’d instantly speak up and seek retribution.

The fear of not being believed. The fear of being blamed. The fear of rejection. The fear of retaliation from the person being accused. The fear of being forever defined by your experience. The fear.

It does not matter the why, what matters is the chance they’ve taken by speaking up at all. Those who come forward should be embraced, not ridiculed. Not abandoned. Not criticized.

“Don’t ask why victims wait so long to speak up. Ask what systems were in place to keep them quiet”. Anonymous

I own a few Marilyn Manson CD’s. And I’ve even attended one of his concerts. Would I say I am a fan? Probably a number of years ago I was but truthfully, I’ve not paid attention to any of his music in recent years because I feel it devolved while my taste evolved. That’s not a slam against him or anyone who fancies his work, it’s more a statement on how I’ve matured and now seek out music that feels authentic to me.

The one concert I attended was opened by Courtney Love. I know, what a duo to pay money to see. Near the end of Manson’s set he made a disparaging remark about Love and trashed her music. At the time he was wearing some pretty hefty platform shoes so it made it all the more hilarious when from out of nowhere she charged like a rhino and tackled him to the stage; throwing punches at his head all the way down. When he finally was able to get up, he announced the show was over. There would be no encore and then him and his bandmates trashed the stage in a temper tantrum worthy of a toddler Napoleon. Still makes me laugh to this day.

Shoutout to Evan Rachel Wood and her most recent movie ‘Kajillionaire’. Watched it on demand about a month ago and it’s a brilliant comedy that will also pull at your heart. I highly recommend you give it a chance.

Check out the trailer:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xiMPCevu8Wk

[purplestrawberrywerewolf]

NEW CHAPTER

y’all will like this one cuz it’s Rayaari

but it’s a new chapter to the Raya and her brother series thing i created (idfk)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/31347410/chapters/78188126

The tour bus shook as it hit rocks on the road. The people inside jumped at the feeling but kept doing their own thing. Raya and her band had just finished their recent concert in Tail and were heading to Spine.  

But recently, they’ve had a new addition.  

Namaari.  

Their last drummer quit after he and his wife had their child and he felt like he needed to be there for them so he put notice to his resign not too long ago. So, they searched for a new one. And they found Namaari.  

She was playing with a different band when they met her, and around that time, they were already getting famous, and Namaari was a fan. But she met them through Raya.  

Raya was the lead singer for their band; Raya and the dragon gems. She and Namaari’s band were performing at the same club when they met. Namaari was walking down a hallway when she crashed into someone, sending them to the floor along with her.  

“Oh my gosh I’m so sorry-” she stopped talking when she realized who she bumped into. Raya, the lead singer. Raya looked at her confused as she tried to get up but Namaari was quick to grab her hand and help her up.  

“Raya, wow, I am so sorry, I-I wasn’t looking where I was going and-” a giggle interrupted her as Raya put a hand over her mouth covering her laugh. “You’re good, you’re good. I wasn’t looking where I was going either” she reassured as she brushed off some dirt from her red jacket.  

Namaari smiled before introducing herself. “Oh! Uh, I’m Namaari. I’m a drummer for my band; The Bad Girls” she gestured to the other lead singer and a few girls that were sitting in a booth having drinks.  

Raya’s brows rose. “Oh! Yeah, I’ve heard some of your songs. You’re a good drummer by the way” she complimented. Namaari shyly put a piece of her hair behind her ear. “O-oh, thank you. And you’re Raya, right?” She asked.  

Raya nodded. “Yeah! I’m the lead singer for The Dragon Gems.” She informed as she gestured to her band that was sitting in another booth near Namaari’s band. “Wow. I-I really admire you guys, I’ve been listening to you for a while and I really admire your voice and everything” Namaari explained.  

Raya smiled. “Thank you! That means a lot” then, a girl with blue hair came up to Raya. “Hey, we’re on after that band over there, so Quan’s suggesting that we get ready” she explained before glancing at Namaari. “Oh, who’s this?” She asked.  

“This is Namaari, she’s the drummer for The Bad Girls” Raya informed. Sisu nodded in understanding. “Great to meet you Namaari, but my girl Raya and I gotta get ready to perform” she said before dragging the singer away. Namaari only watched in awe as they did.  

She just met Raya! A singer that she’s admired for a while and someone who had a beautiful voice. She watched until Raya disappeared back stage.  

Some time passed and Namaari sat on the drums as her and her band performed. She loved being on stage, sure she wasn’t the lead singer, but she was okay with just being the drummer, seeing that she was able to do her own kind of vibe in the back as the lead singer Atitaya sang.  

She was also her backup singer as well. A microphone was stood by her so she could lean over and sing when she needed to. After they finished, the crowd rang in cheers and praises as they walked off the stage.  

As she did, she noticed Raya talking to a boy who looked like her brother. They were laughing at something he said when she noticed the drummer. She said something to her brother before walking towards Namaari.  

“That was amazing!” She complimented. Namaari felt her heart soar at the words. “Thank you!” She spoke. A large man then came up to Raya and handed her the microphone as the hosts voice boomed in the club. “I gotta go, but maybe we can catch up” Raya suggested as her band went on stage.  

Namaari nodded. “Of course. I’ll see you after” she said as Raya ran up the steps to get on stage.  

And when they performed, Namaari watched in complete awe as she performed. The way she moved with the music, how her voice captivated everyone in the room, and her beauty really showed.  

Soon, their performance ended and people’s cheers erupted in the room, probably a little more for them than their band. As the singer walked off stage, Namaari quickly went to her.  

“You sounded amazing” she said. Raya blushed. “Thank you. You did amazing,” she responded smiling. Soon, the night went with them talking together. They had a few drinks and laughed and got to know each other. Soon, they swapped numbers as they departed for the night.  

Over time, they texted and called. Everyday, Raya woke up to a good morning text from the drummer.  

“Hey, that drummer girl you’re talking to, do you still have her number?” Quan asked one day as they stopped to get something to eat. “I think so, why?” She asked.  

“Well, we need a drummer and I wanted to see if she was interested” he explained. Raya thought for a moment before shrugging. “Okay. I’ll give you her number in a bit” *

Over time, Namaari invited both Raya and her brother to one of her band rehearsals in Fang. As they watched, Raya and her brother traded comments. “She’s good” he said to his younger sister. She nodded.  

“She is.”

When they finished, Namaari walked down and towards the siblings. “Hey! So how did you like it?” She asked. “It was incredible, I loved it” Quan responded as Raya nodded. “You did amazing” she said.  

“But” Quan began. “I did some here, specifically for your performance” he revealed. Namaari looked at him surprised. “Wait, really?” She asked. He nodded. “And I liked what I heard. How about this; how do you feel about playing with The Dragon Gems” he offered. Namaari’s eyes lit up in shock as Raya shot her a hopeful smile.  

However, the moment lasted only for a moment when she glanced over at her band. “I have to think about it. I would love to join, but Atitaya’s already freaking out because a girl already left the group” she explained.  

Raya had a disappointed look on her face as her stoic brother nodded. “I see. Well, you have Raya’s number, so if you’re still interested, give us a call” he said before walking away, taking his sister with him who waved at the drummer as she was dragged away.  

*

“Do it!” Atitaya exclaimed. Namaari looked at the lead singer in shock. “What?” She asked. She had told Atitaya about Raya and her brother coming to see their rehearsals and that they offered her a spot in the band. Instead of getting upset about it, she encouraged her.  

“Namaari, this is Raya. The most loved singer in Kumandra right now. The fact that she noticed you, is amazing” she explained. “So, if she were to ask you to join, would you?” Namaari asked. Atitaya laughed. “I would’ve been gone a long time ago. Now, go! Call them. Go get them. Plus, it’s Raya, she’s hot. You’re lucky” she winked before leaving the room and leaving a blushing Namaari.  

So, she did. She called and took the offer and soon, she became the drummer for Raya and the dragon gems.  

But over time, things changed. She and Raya spent all their time together, of course, Sisu would join them on their hang outs and it was friendly. Until one night.  

They were in a hotel room when Raya went over to Namaari’s room like she always did to hang out. But Namaari noticed Raya’s eyes. She never noticed how they sparkled when she talked about the songs she wrote, and other things she was passionate about.  

Then, their eyes met. When they did, she found herself leaning in and locked lips with the singer. She pulled away apologizing before the singer grabbed her shirt and brought her in for another kiss.  

When they pulled apart, they were red. “Uhm...Is this okay?” Namaari asked. Raya laughed. “You’re so shy. It's fine. But uh, yeah I kinda like you” she admitted. “Yeah, I can see that”  

*

So, they saw each other behind everyone’s back. When they finished a performance, they met up backstage to be together. When no one was looking, they shared a few kisses. Soon, they were dating.  

Ugh, how she loved that word. She was dating Raya. The Raya. The girl that was currently loved in Kumandra for her beauty and her beautiful voice. She had her in her arms and she felt blessed by Sisudatu herself.  

However, Quan was Raya’s older brother. He was also very protective. When your little sister is famous, some fans-especially the male ones- all have their eyes on her. Some have tried to touch her inappropriately, some have and since then, he’s done whatever he could to protect her from them.  

But he noticed something off with their new drummer. He didn’t mind that she and Raya hung out, if anything, he liked that she was a little intimidating so if anyone tried to mess with his sister, someone was there for defend her.  

But it was the way they looked at each other. He didn’t like it. He didn’t like how they shared a loving look before they parted ways, or how Raya always made sure to turn around and lock eyes with her when she performed.

At first, he assumed it was just how they were. Maybe they were really close which caused them to be really touchy with each other seeing that Raya and Sisu were touchy seeing that they’ve been friends since they were younger.  

But then one day, before they went up to perform, he spotted the singer and drummer talking. But before he could dismiss it as them just being friends, he saw Raya’s hand caress Namaari’s cheek who then gave it a kiss on her palm.  

As Raya walked away, Namaari’s eyes locked with Quan’s and her face paled. She quickly turned and left to hide from her girlfriend’s brother's wrath.  

She informed Raya. “It’s fine. I’ll just make an excuse. I’ll say that we’re just close” she reassured. Soon, Sisu learned about them when Raya opened up to her about it. Sisu was excited and promised to keep it a secret from her brother and was their number 1 supporter.  

But then, things went downhill. Back to where we started, everyone was on the bus as Tong drove. Quan was reading a book when he noticed Raya go up to Namaari who handed her something. Raya quietly squealed before hugging the taller girl.  

That’s it.  

He stood up before slamming the book loudly. It startled both girls as they turned to him. “Okay. That’s it” he scolded. Raya felt her blood run cold as she scooted herself closer to the drummer.  

“What are you talking about?” She asked. Quan scoffed. “Don’t play dumb with me, Raya. I know about you and Namaari. The stolen glances, being together all the time, and don’t think I didn’t forget that hand kissing thing!” He said angrily. Raya glanced at Namaari.  

“This is over. You and her” he said. Namaari sent a glare his way. “You can’t tell us what to do, Quan. I love Raya, and she loves me” she said as she stepped forward. Quan glared daggers at the drummer and if looks could kill, she would’ve been brutally killed.  

“Namaari stop. Quan you too. Why do you care so much?” She demanded. “Because I know people like her Raya. They get what they want. They manipulate, and when they get what they want, they throw you away” he explained, not taking his gaze off Namaari.  

“Why, because I’m from Fang? Is that it?”  

“I wouldn’t be surprised”  

“Quan stop!”

Raya yelled. “No, Raya this isn’t happening. I’m not letting you ruin your career for some binturi. It’s over.” He finished but then the drummer spoke up. “I love Raya”  

He looked at her in shock. The girl had a determined look painted on her features. “I love Raya, and she loves me too. And we want to get married” she said slowly. Raya felt her heart melt at the others words when Quan’s voice startled her.  

“Of course, you love her. She’s young, beautiful and rich”

“It’s not about money Quan!” Raya exclaimed. “I love her, and that’s it!” The singer practically screamed. The room went quiet. Namaari looked at the singer with a loving gaze.  

“What did you say?” Quan asked angrily. Raya swallowed the lump in her throat before continuing. “I love her. And she loves me too.” She said with a shaky voice.  

Quan let out a humorless laugh that sent a shiver down everyone’s spine. “That’s it!” He exclaimed, startling them. “Namaari, I brought you into my band to help it, not destroy it. So, because of this, you’re fired. You can ride back to Fang, but that’s it, it’s over” he explained.  

Raya felt her heart drop in her stomach and her world fall apart around her. Namaari glared. “That’s fine. I’ll make my own way” she growled out as the bus stopped. She then pushed past him and walked out the bus.  

“NO, YOU CAN’T DO THIS!” Raya screamed as she tried to run after Namaari but Quan went in front of her and held her back as she tried to run after her. “Enough!” He yelled as he pushed her onto the seat. “If you follow that woman, I will disband the group, No more Raya and the dragon gems. Nothing.” He threatened before walking away.  

*

Sisu ran her hands through Raya’s hair as she cried into her lap. She was sitting on the singer's bed as Raya laid down so her head was in Sisu’s lap as she cried. “It’s okay Raya,” she tried reassuring but even she knew that it wasn’t. She took Raya’s side on this one.  

She knew what her and Namaari had was something special. The way they looked at each other and the way Namaari talked about her like she was the most amazing thing she’s ever discovered.  

Raya did the same. She knew what they had was real. Yeah, Raya’s had past boyfriends and girlfriends, but they were never serious. This one, was the most serious. And she knew when Namaari said she wanted to marry Raya, she meant it.  

“W-what am I gonna do?” Raya asked through tears. Namaari was gone. Once they got to Fang, Quan was quick to help get her things together to get her off the bus, no matter his sister’s pleas.  

Sisu thought for a moment. “Maybe you can try to call her?”  

“Quan deleted her number off my phone. I don’t remember” she said as she wiped tears from her eyes. Sisu sighed. She was stuck. She didn’t know what to do, and she didn’t want to see her best friend in such a state.  

Things sucked for her. Days, weeks passed and she was miserable. She had no energy to perform, or record songs. Quan tried talking to her which ended either with them in a screaming match or just Raya giving him the cold shoulder.  

She wasn’t herself. Her usual happy and bubbly personality turned into a quiet, isolated version that Sisu and the others didn’t know. She was more bitter, snapped at everyone.  

They all knew it was because of Namaari. She was always there when she needed her, and now she’s gone.  

However, one night after Raya got out of the shower, her phone rang and an unknown number was calling her. She hesitantly answered the phone.  

“Hello?” She answered.  

“Raya, it’s me” said girl’s heart jumped with joy at the sound of the others voice. “Namaari?” She asked, tears of joy filling her eyes. The other girl laughed on the other line. “It’s me dep la. Come outside, I’m by the red car” she instructed.  

Raya quickly got her clothes on before running out the motel room and running to the parking lot where she saw Namaari standing next to the red car.  

“Nami!” She exclaimed as she ran into the woman’s arms. Namaari’s face lit up as she gathered the other in her arms. “I’m here, I’m here” she whispered into the girl’s wet hair.  

Tears of happiness streamed down the girls face as she looked up and captured the drummer's lips in hers. Their kiss ended quickly as they held each other tightly. “Let’s get some food yeah?” Namaari asked as the smaller girl nodded.  

They got into the car and drove.  

The night was spent with them just holding each other, knowing that their relationship would be looked down on, not just by Quan but by society in general. “I have to go back” Raya murmured sadly as she laid in Namaari’s chest.  

“Hmph. I don’t want you to go” Namaari whispered into her hair. Raya grasped her hand. “I don’t either. But my brother will lose it” she responded as she nuzzled into the girl's chest.  

She didn’t want to go, but she had to.  

So, they kept seeing each other. Every weekend, Raya would secretly message Namaari her location and they would meet up in secret. Sometimes to just talk, cuddle and share a few kisses.  

But finally, Raya had it. She couldn’t do it anymore. The secrets, the lying, everything. She just wanted to be with Namaari and not let anyone stop her. She called Namaari that night and begged her to get her.  

Namaari picked up the singer who sat in the passenger seat of her car. “I can’t do this” she said through tears. Namaari felt her heart break. “Like, you want to break up?” She asked.  

Raya shook her head. “No. Never. I’m just tired of lying. I want to be with you. I don’t want anyone holding me back. I just want you!” She exclaimed. Namaari felt her heart melt at her words and leaned in to kiss the singer.  

*

“I’m gonna go to the store” Raya said as she fixed her black hoodie. Quan was sitting on the couch on his phone. “Okay, be safe” he said as his sister walked out the house.  

However, she wasn’t going to the store. As she drove, she heard her phone ring and looked to see Sisu’s name pop up on the screen. She glanced at it before ignoring the call and keeping her eyes on the road as her heart was beating loudly in her chest.  

She drove into a parking lot and found a parking spot nearby and stepped out the black car before looking to see Namaari standing by the entrance. “Ready?” She asked as Raya walked towards her.  

Raya nodded eagerly as they walked into the court house.  

*

“Where is she?”  

“I don’t know”  

“She’s been gone for 3 hours”  

“I’m sure she got into some traffic or something”  

“Really? For 3 hours?” Quan deadpanned. It’s been 3 hours since Raya had left to go to the store as she claimed. Yeah, she would stay out a while, but something was nagging at him, telling him that something wasn’t right.  

Sisu on the other hand, also had no idea, but she did know some things. Raya had opened up to her and revealed that she was seeing Namaari behind her brother’s back and of course, Sisu wanted to support her and kept her secret.  

“Maybe she met up with someone? Like a friend or something” Boun said, Raya’s younger brother, as he grabbed a snack from the cabinet before walking to the living room.  

Sisu’s eyes widened as she realized where she could’ve gone. “B-but I’m sure she’s fine. She’s probably just shopping and spending all her money. You know how she gets when she shops” Sisu excused as she stood up and went to her room.  

Another hour passed, and Quan accepted the fact that Raya probably did lose track of time and decided to go into his room and decided to look over some things. He turned the radio on to find one of their songs playing when the radio hosts voice filled the room.

“We’ve got something more romantic coming your way. It turns out, Raya, the princess of pop has gotten married! She and her drummer were spotted leaving the court house today as newlyweds. Let’s congratulate the Princess and her new wife!”  

Quan’s stomach dropped. Raya got married? Behind his back? She married Namaari? So many questions ran through his mind as the pencil that was in his hand fell onto the ground as he stared at the wall in front of him in shock.  

*

“Ba, are you mad?” Raya asked through the phone as she sat on a motel bed, Namaari sitting next to her with a worried expression on her face. News about their marriage spread so fast throughout Kumandra.  

“No, of course not dewdrop. Although I’m not too happy that you got married at a young age, I’m sure you thought about it.” Benja spoke through the phone. Raya sighed.  

“I am. It’s a little crazy right now. I think I’m gonna stay away from Quan tonight. Give him some time to cool off” she explained. “Leave your brother. I’ll deal with him. He needs to know that you’re growing up and you’re going to want to make grown up decisions and I’m here to support you” a smile stretched onto the singers face.  

“Now, let me talk to my daughter-in-law" Raya giggled before handing her the phone. “Ba wants to talk to you” she said. Namaari’s face paled and Raya laughed at the sight as the girl shakily grasped the phone.  

“Uh, hello?”  

“Hello Namaari. How are you?”  

“I’m fine. You?”  

“I’m doing well, thank you. So, I have a few questions”  

Namaari gulped. “Okay” she said.  

“Do you love my daughter?”  

Namaari was taken aback by the question but proceeded to answer. “Of course. I’ve loved your daughter for a long time. I’ve been in relationships with different people, but she’s different. She’s,” she let out a soft chuckle. “She’s amazing. She gets me, and she loves me for me, and doesn’t judge me for my mistakes or for the wrong decisions I’ve made in the past. If anything, she’s helped me become a better woman and she’s helped me through my darkest times. I love her more than anything” she finished explaining.  

She glanced over at her now wife who had tears in her eyes and a smile painted on her lips.  

“That’s all I needed to hear. Welcome to the family Namaari, and don’t let Quan intimidate you, he’s just a drama king. I’ll talk to you both later”  

“Thank you, sir” Namaari said with a smile. Benja chuckled. “Just call me Benja. I’ll see you two soon.”  

Namaari hung up the phone before handing it back to Raya and letting out a relieved sigh. Raya crawled towards her and laid her head on her chest. “How are we gonna tell my brother?” Raya asked quietly.  

Namaari ran her hands through her hair. “We’ll figure it out”  

*

3 days later, Namaari and Raya drove to her house where Quan was still. Namaari glanced over at her. “You’ll be okay?” She asked. Raya nodded. “Yeah. Stay here. I’ll call you when things are good” she instructed before getting out the car and walking to the entrance.  

Raya unlocked the door to see Sisu on her computer and Boun drawing in his book when they looked up. “Raya!” Boun exclaimed as he went to hug the girls' legs. Raya chuckled before leaning down to hug him.  

“Hey you guys” she greeted as Sisu brought her into a tight hug. “So, it’s true?” Sisu asked. Raya nodded. “Yup. We got married” she confirmed. Boun’s eyes widened. “Wow, you got married?” He asked.  

Raya chuckled. “Yeah. And no, I didn’t wear a white dress or anything, but we went to court and boom.” She explained. She then paused. “Where’s Quan?” She asked. Sisu gestured to the hall. “He’s in his room. He’s been quiet since he found out” she explained.  

Raya winced before nodding and began to walk to the room.  

Quan was reading something on his laptop when he heard a knock on his door. He glanced over to see Raya slowly opening the door. Relief washed over him. “Quan, I know you’re mad-” she found herself in an embrace.  

“You’re okay” he whispered as he hugged her tight. Raya wrapped her arms around the taller as she nodded. “I’m okay.” She confirmed. Quan sighed through his nose.  

“I’m sorry” he said. Raya glanced at him in surprise. “I’m sorry, for putting you through so much Raya, I just...I know you’re 19 and an adult and you can make your own decisions and date who you want to date, but I can’t help but still see 12-year-old you. The one who always beats me at everything, and is small and needs her older brother. But I know that you’re an adult and just hearing over the radio that you got married, just shocked me. I-I never thought I’d see the day you would get married” he said as tears formed in his eyes.  

Raya listened with her own tears beginning to flow.  

“I don’t know how to let you go” he admitted. Raya quickly threw her arms around him and held onto him tight, as if she were to let go, he would disappear. He hugged her tighter. “I love you” he said.  

She sniffed. “I love you too, you binturi” she responded. He chuckled before pulling away and wiping his tears. “Well, now that’s settled. Where’s my sister-in-law?” He asked. Raya smiled.  

“Namaari!” Raya called. Said girl was still in the car and looked up to see the singer standing on the porch. She got out the car and followed her inside.  

When she got in, she saw Quan, Sisu, and Boun. Sisu and Boun quickly enveloped her into a hug. “Welcome to the family!” Sisu squealed as Boun hugged her waist. Namaari laughed at their reactions before looking over to see the one person she’s been fearing this entire time. She gulped as she shrunk under his strict gaze.  

“Quan” she greeted. “Namaari. How’s it going?” He asked. She nodded. “G-good. I’m uh, fine.” She answered. He slowly walked over. “Look, I promise to take care of Raya” she started.  

“She can take care of herself” he said. Raya shot him a small glare. He then smirked. “You know, never thought you would stand up to me, Namaari. I know I've been a douche and when that night when you said that you loved Raya, I knew you meant it. I just want her to be happy, and if being with you makes her happy, then so be it” he said before opening his arms.  

Namaari smiled before they hugged. Raya watched a large smile on her face.  

*

A few months passed and Raya found herself in a dressing room wearing a white long gown, that had a sweetheart neckline and was strapless. Little silver dots adorned the dress as it trailed all the way to the back and dragged on the floor.  

Her makeup was done and her hair was completely down and curled. Her vail was fixed on her head as she examined herself in the mirror.  

Because she didn’t have an actual wedding, Benja thought it would be good idea to let her have one. It wasn’t a big thing, if anything, it was a small thing she held in her own home. A knock came on the door.  

“Come in” she responded. The door opened and Quan stepped in. When he saw her in the dress, his heart stopped. She looked so beautiful. “You look amazing” he said. Raya smiled. “Thanks. I try” she joked as he closed the door.  

Quan chuckled. “How do you feel?” He asked. She shrugged. “I’m a little nervous. Even though I’m technically already married” she said shrugging. “Hmph. Don’t be. You’ll be fine” he reassured as he walked over to her.  

She then noticed his eyes. “Are you crying?” She asked. Quan wiped his eye. “Uh, no. No, I am not. You’re just bad at dusting” he lied. Raya laughed before hugging her brother.  

It’s been a few months and her and Namaari found their dream home, adopting a dog and a cat while at it. They decided to hold the ceremony in their home seeing that it was big enough.  

Quan has finally warmed up to his new sister-in-law, although he sometimes likes to tease her by sending her playful glares when she hugs or kisses his sister, making her panic and quickly straighten her posture.  

“It’s just surreal, you know? My baby sister is getting married”

“Ugh, I’m not a baby Quan!” She exclaimed as he laughed. “Okay, sure” he joked as she playfully punched his arm. “But I am happy for you, Raya and I just hope you’re happy. And, if she hurts you in any way, I’m here” he said making Raya roll her eyes.  

“Thanks” she chuckled. A knock on the door made them look over to see Benja. “Ready dewdrop?” He asked. She nodded before hooking her arm with her brother and following their father.  

When they got to the backyard, Raya hooked her arms with both her ba and brother as they walked her down the aisle. The guests they invited stood up as they watched her practically float down the aisle.  

Namaari, who wore a white suit-seeing that she refused to wear a dress-watched in awe as her wife walked down the aisle. They made eye contact before Raya got to the so called alter and her brother and father let her go.  

As they said their vows, Namaari thanked the Gods for letting her have this moment and she thanked them for making her so clumsy that she literally and figuratively crashed into her wife at the performance.  

“You may kiss the bride”  

Namaari quickly dipped her down for a kiss as cheers erupted. Quan watched with a small smile. Maybe it was meant to be after all. And he only hoped that his sister was happy.  

[scapegrace74-blog]

Don’t Call It Love

A/N  With Saorsa done and dusted, it’s time to return to the Metric Universe.  When we last left Jamie and Claire in October 2017, they were sharing comforting silence and attending a Depeche Mode concert together.  Will things fall easily into place now that they have tripped over the line from being roommates to being friends?   Oh, hell no.  What would be the fun in that? 

All other parts of the Metric Universe are available on my AO3 page.

The song by Zero 7 (another guest artist!) that inspired the title is here.

Winter, 2017 - London, England

It happened by accident.  Happenstance.  Serendipity.   Fate.  The words she used to explain the fact that she and Jamie started seeing each other outside of the flat in social circumstances that would typically be characterized as dates varied, but her opinion remained fixed.  They weren’t dates.  Jamie was her roommate, a good friend, a fellow enthusiast of the culturally obscure, and a brilliant pub trivia partner.  They had both agreed that a romantic relationship between them would be disastrous; ergo, there was nothing romantic about their increasingly frequent outings.  If she could memorize the names for the 206 bones in the human skeleton, she could certainly manage to keep her feelings for Jamie inside the tidy box she had built for them.

Non-Date #1

They crossed paths inside the massive Spittalfields Market, both of them with shoulders damp from the chilly November rain.  Jamie was on his way to the fishmonger, while Claire carried a cloth bag filled with late-season vegetables, determined to eat something other than take-out on a rare day off from lectures and the hospital.

“Are ye on yer way back tae the flat, then?” Jamie asked, physically fighting the urge to offer to carry Claire’s wee sack.

“No, I’m off to the charnel house first.”

“The what, now?”  Surely he’d misheard her.

“The charnel house.  Don’t tell me you’ve been living over top of a medieval burial ground all this time without realizing it?” Claire teased.

Intrigued as much by her beguiling smirk as the opportunity to explore a bit of London’s history, Jamie followed Claire to a commercial highrise near the edge of the market.  Descending a non-descript stairwell in Bishop’s Square, they came to a halt in front of a glass wall.  On the other side was an excavated ruin, the crypt of the long-vanished chapel of St. Mary’s Spital hospital, a quick scan of a nearby information plaque informed him.

“They only discovered it was here when construction of the office tower began,” Claire said, a wistful look on her face.  “For centuries, travelers and the victims of London’s many plagues were buried around the hospital, quite literally in the Spital fields.  When the graves overflowed, they brought the excess bones here and stacked them for safe-keeping until the Apocalypse.  Imagine, forgetting something so...fundamental.”

Jamie grunted in acknowledgement, seeing the reflection of Claire’s face superimposed on the glass.  He couldn’t decide if this human tendency towards forgetfulness pleased or disappointed her.

“Tis rather...”

“Macabre?” she suggested with a grin, turning away from the display and climbing back into the cloud-roofed square.

“I was gonna say morbid, but as ye like.”

“We build our present on the bones of our past, my Uncle Lamb used to tell me.  He was referring to archaeology, but I’ve found it to be true of life itself.”

They walked back to the flat, collars raised against the hastening rain.  Jamie had bought enough hake for two, so they shared the narrow worktop, dicing fresh vegetables and letting their shoulders bump together occasionally.

Claire ate at the two-person dining table while scrolling social media on her phone.  Jamie used the coffee table to hold his plate and the gaming magazine he was flipping through.

It wasn’t a date.

Non-Date #4

Her cellphone rang as she was leaving the bathroom, thoughts bouncing between her end-of-semester exams and her non-existent plans for the Christmas holidays.  She accepted the call with one hand while starting the tedious job of separating her soaking curls with the other.  At first there was only static.  She glanced at the screen, recognizing the familiar number.

“Jamie?” she tried.

“...mac na ghalla, Hamish...” followed by muffled noises and masculine jeering.  She switched hands and started to towel off, making certain first that the video call button wasn’t active.

“Hal-lo.  Paging Mr. Fraser.  You have a call on line one.”

“Ach, sorry Claire.  I didna mean tae... That is, the lads were just... How are ye?”

She giggled at his discomposure.  “I’m well, thank you.  And you?”  They had seen each other that morning, as he came off shift and she was leaving for her morning lectures, so she assumed there was more to this call than a polite inquiry into her state of well-being.  She had learned over their months as roommates that sometimes you just needed to wait for Jamie to get to his point.

“Braw, thank ye.  I was... weel, I’m at the park with some o’ the lads, tryin’ tae put t’gether a side, an’ we’re short a winger, an’ I was jus’ thinkin’, ye said ye wanted tae learn tae play an’...”

Another James Fraser quirk was that he rambled in broad Scots when he was nervous.

“Jamie, are you asking me to play rugby with you?”

“Aye.  Aye, I am.  If ye wish, o’ course.”

“I did just step out of the shower...” she mentioned, already peering outside at the threatening sky and mentally assessing her wardrobe for something suitable for a ruck and maul in the rain.  “Hello?” when there was no sound from the other end in some time.

“Aye, I’m here.  Nevermind, Claire.  I dinna consider, ye must be gettin’ ready to study fer yer finals, an’...”

“Where are you?” she interrupted, opening a drawer and pulling out a pair of yoga pants.

“Victoria Park?” Jamie replied, sounding hesitant and hopeful.

“Give me twenty minutes.”

“Splendid!”  She could hear his smile down the line.

“I better not get mud in my hair, Fraser,” she retorted before hanging up, her own smile lingering on her face.

There was nothing romantic about rugby.

Non-Date #7

The flat was strangely forlorn, even with Christmas lights twinkling merrily in the living room windows and a tiny fir tree precariously balancing its five ornaments standing in the corner.  

They had exchanged their gifts on December 23rd, sipping on hot chocolate spiked with Kahlua and grinning shyly at each other.  She’d bought Jamie the next Call of Duty game for his XBox.  Nothing intimate, just something he’d mentioned in passing he was looking forward to trying.  His boyish glee upon unwrapping the package warmed her more than her drink.   Hands shaking slightly, she delicately opened the tastefully wrapped rectangle he presented to her.  Inside was a cashmere scarf, luxuriously soft beneath her fingers as she stroked it.

“Is this?” she asked.

“Aye, tis the Fraser plaid.  Ye ken there’s no’ a clan named Bee-cham, right?”

She was deeply touched, and thanked him was a kiss against his scruffy cheek.

Jamie had left for Scotland the next day, having somehow managed to secure a week’s worth of leave from his uncle over the holiday season.   As was her wont, she’d put down for as many shifts as possible while medical school wasn’t in session, but by some fluke she wasn’t scheduled to work New Year’s Eve for the first time in recent memory.

Some of her classmates from nursing college had invited her along to a “raging party in Shoreditch”, but she’d made up some excuse.  The truth was, she wasn’t in the mood for loud music and over-priced drinks with a group of virtual strangers.  If Geillis had been in town, she would have allowed her friend to coerce her into whatever mayhem she had up her sleeve, but Geillis was still in Columbia and eight months’ pregnant with twins, to everyone’s collective shock.  Especially the mother-to-be.

No, what she really wanted was a quiet evening at home, snuggled under her favourite fleece blanket on their couch, the latest Ferrante novel in her lap and a glass of Pinot Noir at the ready.  Jamie had a turntable and a surprisingly well-curated selection of vinyl in his bedroom, but she didn’t like entering his domain without his permission.

Without giving it a second thought, she rang his cell.  It was only upon hearing the raucous sounds of a party in full swing that it occurred to her that just because she was spending New Year’s Eve alone, it didn’t mean Jamie was as well.

“Claire?” he yelled over something that sounded a lot like live music.  “Are ye all right, lass?”

“Oh!  I’m so sorry, Jamie.  I just wanted to ask... never mind.  It’s not important.  Enjoy your party...”

“Wait!” the background noise mutated, sounding like a riot underwater, and then there was a wooden slam.  Jamie huffed a sigh of relief.

“Mu dheireadh.   Are ye still there, Sassenach?”

“Still here,” she confirmed, suddenly feeling sorry for herself.  She might be the most pathetic thirty-year old in London.

“Did the hospital no’ call ye in for a shift, then?”

She tucked the blanket under her feet, warding off the chill that always seemed to creep in from the wall of windows.  The Christmas lights she’d strung reflected against the glazing in alternating colours: blue, red, green, blue, red, green.

“No. By some miracle of the festive season, I have the night off,” she joked halfheartedly.   “I’m sorry for interrupting your night out.  I wanted to ask if I could borrow your turntable and a few of your albums?”

“O’ course.  Ye didna need tae ask.  An’ I’m no’ out.  I’m at home, at Lallybroch.”  He pronounced the word with a guttural flourish that made Claire think of an exotic kind of pastry or a rare tribal custom.  Any time Jamie spoke of his family’s home in Scotland, he imbued it with an otherworldly quality, like a fortress in a fairy tale, a far away land of warriors and mist.  It was strange to think of him there now, while she sat alone in their flat.

“It sounds like quite the party.”

“Aye.  The Frasers take their Hogmanay celebrations verra seriously.  Ye shoulda come wi’ me.”  Then, as though realizing what he’d said, he added quickly, “We could use a doctor.  Dougal sprained his ankle doin’ a sword dance, and Angus singed his arse somethin’ fierce jumpin’ o’er the bonfire.”

She laughed, her mood suddenly much lighter, and asked for more particulars as to how his cousin’s naked ass came to be in close proximity to open flame.  Without either realizing it, the last minutes of 2017 crept by.

Fireworks erupted outside, followed by the tolling of bells and honking of horns.  On the other end of the call, she could hear cheering and an off-key rendition of Auld Lang Syne.  They were both silent, embarrassed to have been so caught up in their trivial conversation as to have missed the arrival of midnight.

“Happy Hogmanay, Sassenach,” Jamie’s voice came soft and sure over the line.

“Happy New Year, Jamie,” she replied.  “I should really let you get back to your party.   Your family must be wondering where you’ve disappeared to.”

He hummed noncommittally.  It occurred to her that had they been in the same place, they would likely be kissing right now.  It sent a shiver of want down her spine.

“Jamie?”  Her voice sounded thready, like she had just woken from a deep sleep.

“Hmmm?”  Shivers, again.

“What’s a Sassenach?”

He laughed softly, and she had to bite her lip.  What was the matter with her?  “Tis a Scottish word for a foreigner, particularly an English one,” he explained.

“You’ve never called me that before,” Claire remarked.

“I’ve ne’er spoken tae ye while on Scottish soil.  T’wasn’t an accurate description ‘til now.”

There was a long silence.  She could hear the sound of revelry through the door of whatever room at Lallybroch he’d hidden inside.  Outside the flat there were firecrackers.   They reminded her of mortar rounds heard from a distance in Afghanistan.

“You don’t like fireworks, do you?” she guessed.  It didn’t take an advanced degree in psychology to know that bright flashes and sudden pops of sound would trigger his PTSD.  They really were a mess, the pair of them.

“Nay.  Jenny an’ Ian’s bairns love them, an’ I told them no’ tae hold off on my account, but they insisted on a bonfire instead.  It reminds me o’ when I was a lad, a’fore ye could buy fireworks along wi’ yer ham at the local Tesco.”

Jamie launched into a long account of the significance of bonfires in Highland culture, and she let herself drift on the melody of his voice, the turntable long forgotten.

“Tell me about yer most memorable New Year’s,” he prompted after his cultural diatribe wound down.

“Oh, well, they all rather blur together, actually.  Too much drink, too much spent on the cover charge.  You know how it is.”

“Nah, I mean when ye were younger.  Ye must ‘ave celebrated in some remarkable places.”

She thought back to her time spent following Uncle Lamb around the globe.  Truth be told, traditional holidays weren’t something that stood out in her memory.  They felt like a foreign custom, a series of drawings taken from a picture book that showed a mother, father and children crowded around a loaded table while snow piled up outside.  They bore no relation to her reality.  It was no wonder Christmas and New Year’s left her feeling ambivalent.

Still, she didn’t want Jamie to feel sorry for her, so she launched into one of her favourite tales.

“One year, I must have been eleven, Lamb was leading an excavation of a Berber oasis town in northern Mali.  The site closed down for the Christian holidays, but Lamb decided to stay behind rather than travel back to England.  We ended up riding camels through these enormous sand dunes, following a local guide on an ancient caravan route.  On December 31st, just as the sun was setting and we had begun to make camp, the camel Lamb had been riding let out this infernal noise, leapt to its feet, and started to gallop away.  Lamb and the guide set off after it on foot, hollering and waving their keffiyeh in the air.  It was the funniest thing.”

“They left ye all alone in the desert?” Jamie asked, horrified.

“Oh, well, they came back eventually.  The camel had been stung by a scorpion, you see.  Once it got over the fright, they were able to catch it and bring it back to camp.”

“Were ye no’ scared, tae be out there in the dark by yerself?”

“No.  Not as I remember it.  The sunset was glorious, and little by little the sky came alive with a million stars.”

“Ye brave wee thing.”  Jamie sighed.  “I wish I was there wi’ ye.”

She didn’t know if he meant with her on that sand dune, or with her at their flat.  Either way, her answer was the same.

“I wish you were too.”

They finally hung up well past two o’clock.  It didn’t count as a date if the other person was five hundred miles away as you whispered goodnight.

Non-Date #12

The Royal London was expanding its pediatrics wing, and Claire was invited to a fundraising gala held, fittingly, in the Museum of Childhood.  The invitation included a plus one, and she’d been putting off asking Jamie if he could join her all week.  It wasn’t that she doubted his suitability as an escort.  Far from it.  But the gala was taking place on February 14th, of all nights, and the symbolism made her nervous.  Still, the alternative was spending the night being hit on by a drunken internist or hedge fund investor, and that was a headache she could do without.

“So,” she began casually a few nights before the event, “any plans for Valentine’s Day?”  If he said he was working or had, god forbid, a date, she would just have to go stag.

Jamie set down his gaming controller and turned to face her desk.  The pulsing  colours from the screen lit his curls like a neon nimbus in the dim room.

“Nah, nothin’ definite.  An’ ye, Sassenach?” he asked tentatively, as though easing himself out onto a frozen lake, unsure of the depth of the ice.  The nickname he had assigned to her during his holidays in Scotland had stuck.  She didn’t correct the inaccuracy, as she rather liked the idea of having a name that was only his.

“Well, I’ve been summoned to a fundraising gala for the hospital, and I was wondering... not that you need feel obliged... it’s black tie, which is really the height of pretension, if you ask me... anyway, there’s no way to decline gracefully short of an aneurysm, so...”

“Out wi’ it, Sassenach,” he prodded.

“Mightyouconsiderbeingmydate?” she blurted, before taking a large gulp of tepid tea.

“Yer date?” he asked as though he had never heard of such a thing.

She sighed, resigned to the fact he was going to make this difficult.  “Yes.  My date.  My plus one.  My social companion.  And hopefully, my defence against spending the evening being pitied and set up with someone’s second cousin, Nigel, the chartered accountant.”

“Do ye have somethin’ against accountants, then?”  The corner of his lip was twitching with the birth of a grin.

“Oh, very funny, you bloody Scot.  Look, I need a date on Valentine’s Day and you are the only man in the Greater London Area who won’t interpret that as an opportunity for a pity shag.   The offer is on the table.  Take it or leave it.”

Something flashed behind his eyes that she couldn’t interpret.  Then it was gone.

“Ne’er fear, Sassenach.  I’ll protect ye from all the wee Nigels.”

***

She’d forgotten to ask whether Jamie had suitable attire for a black tie event.   It was too late now, regardless.  They were meeting at the museum, since she was on shift until eight.  Using the nurses on-call room to get changed, she slinked into her burgundy chiffon gown, its gauzy layers wrapping around her like millefeuille.   Her hair was a lost cause, so she slicked it back into a tight bun at the nape of her neck and hoped for the best.  Silver chandelier earrings and a dab of cologne below her jaw, and she was ready to go.  She carried a small beaded clutch and her dress shoes - there was no way she was navigating the Tube in stilettos. 

The museum was a single massive space, conversation and the tympani of glassware echoing against its high-arched ceiling.  She stood in the entryway after checking her coat, spinning in circles and trying to get her bearings.  More than one lascivious glance was directed her way, but she studiously ignored them in favour of looking for Jamie.  With his height and red hair, he shouldn’t be hard to pick out of the crowd.

There was an appreciative murmur from behind her, a gust of fresh air, and then a soft tap against her bare shoulder.  She turned around.

No.  Not hard to pick out from a crowd at all.  Standing before her was James Fraser in full Highland regalia.  He wore his family tartan, a black velvet waistcoat, brilliant white dress shirt and a black bow tie.  When her gaze fell to the floor, she noticed his polished brogues and white socks pulled up to his knees.  She’d never before considered how a man’s knees might be alluring, but there it was.   Jamie had very sexy knees.

“G’d evening, Sassenach.  Ye look... weel, ye look bonnie.”  Jamie’s normally deep voice was gruffer than usual, perhaps on account of the cold night air.  Or maybe his bowtie was tied too tight.

“Good evening, Jamie,” she replied once she found her voice.  “You look, well, if you were a Jacobite, I’d say you looked regal.”

The tops of Jamie’s ears went red, and he ducked his chin, his tamed curls falling briefly forward.  It gave him the look of a bashful child receiving unexpected praise, completely at odds with the strikingly masculine figure he cut.

“No’ a Nigel, then?” he teased.

“No.  Definitely not a Nigel.  Come, let’s get something to drink before all the top-shelf liquor runs out.  You wouldn’t believe how much some of these doctors can put away!”

Jamie was a perfect date.  He stood by her elbow as she mingled and greeted various colleagues and professors, nodding at their tales of medical misfortune and smiling at their awkward jokes.  He spoke confidently about his work and current affairs, and patiently tolerated endless jibes about what a true Scotsman wore beneath his kilt.

When she politely excused them from one such conversation, he leaned over to whisper in her ear as they walked away to fortify themselves with more alcohol.

“I’ve a mind tae lift my plaid an’ moon the entire assembly the next time one o’ yer wee doctor friends asks about my underthings.  Are ye sure they arena raising funds for a new proctology department, Sassenach?”

She snorted in a truly unladylike fashion and turned to meet his unrepentant smirk.  Just then, a figure approaching from the bar caught her eye.

Oh no.  It couldn’t be.  After five years, she’d finally relaxed her vigilance, had ceased anticipating his presence at every turn, and now, here he was.

“Sassenach?” Jamie was watching her with concern.  The blush had drained from her cheeks, leaving her wine-stained lips and sintering eyes the only colour on her face.

“Claire!  Fancy meeting you here!”  Had his voice always been so nasal?  His eyes so glassy and vacant, like portals into nothingness.  He’d obviously been drinking heavily.  A blond woman half his age had her arm linked through his.

“Frank,” she uttered his name.  Jamie stepped into her side, his posture erect, somehow sensing that she needed his protection from this unheralded threat.

“Well, isn’t this a surprise.  I’d heard you’d gone into the army, or some such thing.  Afghanistan, was it?  Well, with your penchant for violence, I suppose that’s fitting.”

She breathed deeply through her nose.  She would not let him get the better of her.  She wasn’t that person anymore.  With a clammy hand, she grabbed onto Jamie’s fingers where they rested around her hip.  He squeezed back.  He was here.   She wasn’t alone.  It was all the strength she needed.

“Yes, that’s right.  I served overseas for a time, but I’m back in London now.  In medical school.   Now, if you’ll excuse us, we were just leaving.”

Focusing on each step, she turned towards the exit, Jamie’s hand now warm upon the small of her back.  Her chin wobbled, but she bit down hard to stave off tears.

“A doctor?” Frank taunted from behind her.  “Wouldn’t a demolition expert be more apropos, darling?”

She froze, spine trembling with anger.  Jamie made a questioning noise, asking without words if she wanted him to intervene.   She didn’t.

Glancing over her shoulder, she dealt her parting blow.

“Give my best to Amelia and the children.”  Without waiting to witness the aftermath of her pronouncement, she made her way out into the chilly night air, Jamie’s bulk a silent sentinel at her side.

It wasn’t a date if it ended on the floor of your bathroom, crying ugly sobs as mascara stained your cheeks, while your partner held your shoulders and made soothing noises with his throat.  

That wasn’t dating, that was survival.

***

mac na ghalla = son of a bitch

Mu dheireadh = finally

[lesdemonium]

My Heart

Rating: E Words: 9,118 Summary:

Things were different after the mountain.

For one thing, when Jaskier met up with Geralt again, it was with a refugee princess in tow. Somehow this wasn’t surprising, given the way Geralt’s life often went, but it did create a different dynamic.

Beyond that, though, Geralt was different. Softer, somehow. Like he was actively trying to smooth away his hard edges, and his face often constricted with the pain of it.

Jaskier didn’t quite know what to do with it.

read on ao3

Things were different after the mountain.

For one thing, when Jaskier met up with Geralt again, it was with a refugee princess in tow. Somehow this wasn’t surprising, given the way Geralt’s life often went, but it did create a different dynamic.

Beyond that, though, Geralt was different. Softer, somehow. Like he was actively trying to smooth away his hard edges, and his face often constricted with the pain of it.

Jaskier didn’t quite know what to do with it.

--

Jaskier had broken a string on his lute. 

This wasn’t entirely unheard of. After all, with use, strings tended to break every so often. One spectacular time, Jaskier had stumbled while tuning his lute, and the string and snapped so suddenly that it whipped his face, splitting the skin of his cheek. The scar wasn’t truly visible anymore, but Jaskier still noticed it, and more importantly, Geralt still noticed it. Though the event happened years ago, it could still startle Geralt into the witcher’s version of giggles. At those times, Jaskier found himself both indignant over Geralt laughing at what had really been Quite painful, honestly, Geralt, and warm over the fact that Geralt of Rivia was actually brought to laughter over a memory involving Jaskier.

A string broke again, and luckily this time it happened without maiming his face, though poor Ciri was nearly a casualty. This time, however, Jaskier was dismayed to find that he had no replacements. He hadn’t had enough coin to afford more strings the last time he stocked up on materials and he had only replaced them recently, so surely they would last. They had, it just had been a very long time since the thought had crossed his mind.

Jaskier wasn’t pouting. Despite Ciri’s teasing, he was definitely not pouting, he was just a little… off, without the ability to play his lute. He didn’t know what to do with his hands, and they hadn’t planned on any stops in towns until they made it to Posada, where Geralt said Vesemir had sent him a note, which was still days away. Jaskier was a grown man, he could handle a few days of disappointment until they made it to Posada.

His mood was definitely soured, though.

Without his lute to play, he was quite a bit more observant. They should have turned right at that fork, but Geralt had led them to the left. Ciri hadn’t noticed, but of course she wouldn’t, she was still learning. Surely, though, Geralt knew that they had turned the wrong way.

“Geralt?” Jaskier asked. Geralt grunted in return. “Shouldn’t we have gone the other way at that cross section? We’re moving away from the river. You aren’t losing your sense of direction in your old age, are you? Oh, what a way to perish.”

Ciri giggled at Jaskier’s dramatics and Jaskier was sure Geralt had rolled his eyes. But even a minute later, he still hadn’t answered the question.

“Geralt?” Jaskier prodded.

“We have business in Lyria,” Geralt answered, finally. “We’ll stay the night there, then continue on to Posada as planned.”

Jaskier’s brow furrowed, but he didn’t press further. Geralt was taciturn at best and frequently elusive, but if Geralt wanted to tell them what their business was, he likely would have already told them. They weren’t far from Lyria, at least, so soon Jaskier would know what, exactly, was so pressing to make Geralt of Rivia change their plans without so much as a warning. So Jaskier bit his tongue and they continued on silently.

Jaskier found himself without words when Geralt pointed him toward the very same shop Jaskier had replaced his strings at all those years ago. There wasn’t a hint of humor on Geralt’s face, though Jaskier did notice his eyes glide over Jaskier’s cheek.

--

Finding themselves in Posada again was strange. It wasn’t the first time they had been back since their meeting, but every time held a strange edge. Posada felt both familiar, and like a brand new world to Jaskier every time, though the town itself rarely changed.

Vesemir’s note turned out to be inconsequential; it was merely a reply to Geralt’s announcement that Geralt would be bringing company with him to Kaer Morhen this winter. When Jaskier read it, he almost scoffed--that was what they had rushed here for?--but one look at Geralt’s face silenced him. Geralt had been tense the past few days traveling, leading Jaskier to believe this message was more important. Life or death, even. Now, however, the lines on Geralt’s face had finally smoothed away, and his shoulders dipped. Geralt was relieved. This wasn’t just an acknowledgement, this was permission.

Jaskier supposed it made sense. If they didn’t have Kaer Morhen, then Geralt had nowhere safe to take Ciri. And if the fort was as secretive as Geralt had led Jaskier to believe, then Geralt must have been legitimately concerned that Vesemir would deny them. Then what would they do? Hole up in a court for the winter with Jaskier? That seemed recklessly dangerous, what with Ciri being a wanted young lady.

“Well!” Jaskier said, handing the letter back to Geralt. “Wonderful news! I, for one, think we should celebrate by sleeping in a bed, don’t you?” He turned to Ciri, who nodded vigorously, as if she had never heard a more devine suggestion in her life. “And as we are rather low on coin, it sounds as if it’s time for me to earn my keep!”

And with that, he stood up, lute in hand, to grace the fine people of this establishment with his craft.

The concert went well for a long while. Jaskier hadn’t been counting, exactly--it was hard to sing, play an instrument, keep eyes and charm on the room, and do math in his head all at once--but it seemed as if there was enough coin in his hat to pay for not one, but two rooms. Poor Ciri could finally have a moment to herself, rather than constantly having either Jaskier or Geralt as her babysitter.

Jaskier’s audience was a beautiful one. As the wine and ale flowed, they danced with his jigs, they sang along with some of his more colorful tunes, and some of the women (and a couple men) grew a little teary eyed at his more maudlin ballads. They clearly had chosen a good tavern to set up in, because every so often patrons, heavy with drink from other locations, made their way inside and joined in the festivities.

He was about to call it a night and take his coin to the inn-keeper, when he decided to end on his claim to fame. This wasn’t the first time he had played the song that night--in fact, it was the only one he knew how many times he had played it, because all four times he had sent a wink to Geralt’s scowling face. This time, however, Geralt wasn’t paying attention. Instead, he was talking to some man, and the way they were bowed low together convinced Jaskier that this must be about some monster. It was disappointing, but Jaskier brushed it off quickly. It was easy to, when he had caught Geralt staring at him all night, looking less surly and more… captivated. No, surely, captivated was the wrong word. Geralt had hardly expressed any interest in Jaskier’s music before, aside from correcting Jaskier’s creative licenses. But there was something in his look that made Jaskier feel seen. Every time, he had quickly broken the eye contact, but he was living off the high it gave him.

That particular line of thought had Jaskier neglecting his duties to the room. His playing didn’t falter--he could play this song in his sleep without a single mistake, thank you very much--but he had definitely lost the crowd for a moment. When he came back with a cheeky grin and a wink at one of the women, he was too late to attend to the fist that hit him a moment later.

To say he was caught off guard would be putting it lightly. He stumbled, his cheek blooming in heat and pain, and nearly dropped his lute. Luckily, he caught the beautiful thing with a jarring twang of the strings, and for a moment there was complete silence before it felt like everyone started yelling.

“Shut the fuck up, witcher whore!” was the only piece Jaskier picked up as he attempted to catch up with his shocked, sluggish brain, before he was assaulted again; this time the fist went for his gut.

Jaskier was quicker this time in disengaging--the punch turned into more of a light tap as Jaskier nimbly stepped away from the angry drunkard. His moves were as slurred as his words, but still he pursued Jaskier with intent to hit him again. Jaskier wasn’t much of a fighter, especially not when he had nowhere safe to put his beloved instrument, but he was quick and lithe, especially when confronted with a man who had likely had drunk Jaskier’s bodyweight in ale. He only had to evade him long enough for the man to get tired or for someone else to step in and escort the brute out, and Jaskier had faced far more frightening foes than this.

Unfortunately, his space was extremely limited, what with the patrons scurrying around like they had been victims of the onslaught and their deserted furniture clogging up Jaskier’s path. So when the drunkard was yanked away from a very near second assault on Jaskier’s face, Jaskier’s breath came out in a cheered rush. It wasn’t surprising to see the witcher as his savior, and it was extremely satisfying to see the brute tossed out on his arse outside the door.

What was surprising, was Geralt immediately returning to Jaskier once the man was taken care of. His hands on Jaskier’s face had Jaskier gasping, and Geralt hesitated, moving fingertips away from the bruise. But it hadn’t been pain that caused Jaskier to gasp, rather it was the soft, gentle way Geralt was touching him.

“Are you alright?” Geralt asked, turning Jaskier’s face with a soft press of fingers on his jaw.

“I’m just fine,” Jaskier breathed, and he wanted to ask Geralt what he was doing, but he didn’t want to break the moment. Geralt’s fingers ghosted over Jaskier’s cheekbone, and Jaskier was sure he would have a bruise there tomorrow, but all he could feel now was the white-hot heat Geralt’s fingers were leaving behind.

They were there for hours, Jaskier was sure, as he catalogued the way Geralt’s eyebrows knit together in concern for him, but when the spell finally broke and they returned to the world, not even a minute had gone by.

Their rooms were lovely, and Ciri’s had been on the house, as an apology for the brawl.

--

Jaskier’s favorite thing to do, now that the three of them were together, was to watch Geralt teach Ciri.

There was a new lesson every night they camped. Whenever they stayed in inns, Ciri received a helpful reprieve of privacy, after that first night when she was in a much better mood the entire next week after having some time to herself. Turned out thirteen year old girls needed some alone time. Who knew? But when they made camp for the night, Geralt took the opportunity to give her at least one new skill.

Sometimes it’s survival related: which berries are safe to eat, how to pick the best firewood, how to set a trap for rabbits. Sometimes they sparred, and though Ciri never won, Jaskier could see her getting closer, the way her arms and legs were thickening with muscle, and how her hold on her wooden sword became surer every time. Tonight, the subject was apothecary related. Geralt spent the past half hour pointing out the plants around their campsite and the medicinal benefits of each one, both for humans and witchers.

Teaching seemed to come naturally for Geralt.. It was the most patient Jaskier had ever seen him, and usually Ciri listened with rapt attention. Every so often, she would interrupt to ask questions, and Geralt would stop, listen to her, and answer the question without any trace of annoyance. He always answered carefully and thoroughly, making sure she understood before he continued on with whatever he was saying.

Jaskier found himself playing and composing quietly, just so he could hear the two of them as they worked. It was the most peaceful Jaskier had ever felt. He was so peaceful, he almost didn’t notice the cold settling in around him, despite the fire. He didn’t notice he was shivering until Geralt abruptly stood up, peeled off his cloak, and draped it around Jaskier’s shoulders without so much as a word, before going back to Cirilla.

It happened so quickly, Jaskier didn’t have time to protest, only react. Even that he found difficult. He froze, glancing after Geralt, who just continued on his lesson as if nothing had happened. Jaskier waited a moment, trying to figure out if this was real, before he tugged the cloak closer with a small, private smile.

There was something particularly comforting about being surrounded by Geralt’s scent.

--

Sex hadn’t changed much. Over the years, being intimate with Geralt had been so varied based on the circumstances that there wasn’t really much of a “normal” to speak of. The main difference now that Ciri was here was that it was rare for Geralt to touch Jaskier under the stars. The only time they found release with each other was when they stayed at an inn, which only happened every now and then, since they were trying to make their coin stretch farther while Geralt was taking less contracts.

The way Geralt held him afterward, however, that was new. It wasn’t that Geralt had been cold or distant after they had lain together, he had accepted any tenderness Jaskier had initiated. Now, though, Geralt seemed to seek it out.

Once, Jaskier had gotten up immediately after they were finished to grab a cloth to clean them up, and Geralt’s eyes had seemed… wounded, almost. Geralt was completely rigid against Jaskier’s body as he pressed against Geralt’s side, and only relaxed when Jaskier pressed soft kisses along Geralt’s shoulder. After that, Jaskier made a point to prepare a cloth and some water before they engaged physically, so he never had to leave the bed. It was a little uncomfortable, wiping them down with water that was now cold--especially after sessions that lasted hours--but it was worth it for the way Geralt stayed pliant and open against him.

Tonight, Geralt had been particularly thorough. He had teased Jaskier for hours, drawing sounds from his lips that Jaskier didn’t even know he could make. Jaskier wasn’t as young as he had been when they started this, but Geralt had been singular in bringing Jaskier just to the brink of his breaking point. Now that they were finished, Jaskier was too worn out even to clean the spend from his chest. His arms and legs were boneless, and all he could do was catch his breath.

Geralt looked downright smug as he took over the task, though cleaning Jaskier’s body seemed to come second to mapping the planes of Jaskier’s skin with his mouth.

“I hope you’re not trying to start something again,” Jaskier mumbled fondly. “I have nothing left to give. You’ve finished me. I fear you and Ciri shall have to leave me behind.”

If the sharp burst of air from Geralt’s nose was anything to go by, he at least found this amusing, but he didn’t stop. His lips trailed their way along Jaskier’s body, pressing soft, intent-less kisses, mostly on marks Geralt had left behind, but on bare expanses of skin as well. Jaskier sighed into the action, feeling almost close to tears, and wouldn’t that be embarrassing if Geralt looked up only to see Jaskier crying? But he couldn’t help it. It was moments like these when Jaskier wanted so, so badly to tell Geralt he loved him, but knew he couldn’t.

But then Geralt was face to face with Jaskier again, pulling Jaskier close, allowing Jaskier to press his face into Geralt’s neck, and running his fingers up and down Jaskier’s bare back, and Geralt had to know. He had to know how affection bloomed in Jaskier’s chest, how every kiss he pressed to Geralt’s skin was a declaration of love.

I love you. I have always loved you. I always will love you, he kissed.

--

This wasn’t the first time Geralt had gotten hurt.

But Geralt was gasping for breath and Ciri’s eyes were wide as saucers with her barely concealed fear and Jaskier knew things were going south quickly.

The one respite was that both the drowners and the kikimore were dead. What wasn’t good was that Geralt hadn’t been expecting the kikimore, and witcher healing be damned, Geralt was hurt from the strike it landed on him before Geralt could kill it. Geralt had barely been able to pull his sword from the beast before he passed out into the swamp, and thank god Jaskier and Ciri had been there to pull him out of the water, or he would have drowned.

Now, though, he was going to die simply because Jaskier couldn’t find the right freaking potion.

Geralt was going to be annoyed when he came to and his bag was disorganized, but Jaskier could deal with that later, because right now he just needed to find that blasted vial of swallow. And then Geralt was going to get an earful about needing to pack the important potions closer to the top or, and here was a novel idea, in their own compartment.

It was after he pulled out probably the third vial of fucking bindweed that Jaskier finally, finally found what he was looking for, and he tipped its contents into Geralt’s mouth without even making a triumphant noise--that was how scared he was. Already, color was coming back to Geralt’s face and Jaskier breathed a sigh of relief before he could finally tend to the gaping wound in Geralt’s chest.

“He’ll be okay,” he had the presence of mind to say to Ciri, who immediately sat back and let out the breath she had been holding.

He and Ciri struggled to pull the dead-weight of the witcher, water-logged armor and all, to a nearby clearing, and Ciri set to work building a fire (thank you, Geralt, for making her so self-sufficient) while Jaskier tended to Geralt’s wounds. Taking off his armor and shirt wasn’t easy, but he managed it well enough. If Geralt complained of a headache when he woke up, Jaskier would insist that was due to the battle, rather than when Jaskier dropped his head on a log. He stitched up the gaping wound from where the kikimore had pierced him, and despite how badly his hands were shaking, he had to admit that his stitches looked fine. Not expert, by any means, and not even the best he had ever done, but Jaskier was at least convinced that they would do their job.

He was washing the blood off Geralt’s chest when Geralt came to, though Jaskier didn’t notice until the witcher’s hands wrapped around Jaskier’s. He looked up and let out a relieved, just shy of manic, laugh to see Geralt’s amber eyes looking up at him.

“Jaskier-” Geralt started, only to be interrupted by Jaskier.

“We are going to have words, Geralt of Rivia, about where you keep your fucking potions. I could have lost you just because it took me so fucking long to find the right one. You may have superhuman healing abilities, but you’re not impervious and you can’t just walk away from a kikimore trying to rip your heart out, you great, big-”

This time Jaskier was cut off by Geralt pulling him down into a soft kiss. It was effective, Jaskier had to admit. As soon as Geralt’s lips were against his, Jaskier stopped his tirade and just melted. Well, melted as much as he could without putting any weight on Geralt, who was still very much not healed. It didn’t last for long--they both found themselves short of breath quicker than usual, probably due to the physical exertion and Geralt’s injuries. But instead of pulling away, Jaskier rested his forehead against Geralt’s.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Jaskier whispered.

He took a moment to breathe before pulling away and getting back to work on cleaning Geralt up. Ciri rejoined them and dutifully asked questions about the kikimore, and Jaskier smiled as he worked. It was kind of her to let Geralt go back to a teaching mode, lest he be uncomfortable with Jaskier’s fussing.

It took hours for Jaskier to realize that was their first kiss outside of sex.

--

Jaskier was not sick. He couldn’t be. Jaskier didn’t get sick.

This was a stance he clung to the entire walk that day. Even though he was definitely slower than usual--Geralt often had to slow Roach so Jaskier could catch up--and Ciri looked at him pityingly every time he let out a nasty cough--but that was just the dirt from the road irritating his lungs. Every time he insisted that he wasn’t sick, that it was just allergies, or he didn’t sleep well the night before, Geralt rolled his eyes, but didn’t argue. 

By the end of the day, though, it was getting harder and harder to cling to this assertion. When they made camp, Jaskier dropped heavily to the ground, unable to even fathom helping with camp, but Ciri and Geralt had it under control anyway. His body ached all over. He felt like he would never be warm again, shaking as he sweat with such intensity he was sure he had sat right inside the fire.

“Come on,” Geralt finally urged him, helping Jaskier up--despite Jaskier’s protests that, Really, Geralt, I’m fine right here--and into the river.

The water felt like ice, and his entire body tensed as he wrapped his arms around himself to try to stave off some of the chill. Geralt was not far behind; he’d had to help Jaskier out of his clothes, and didn’t even laugh at a single one of Jaskier’s very witty sexual jokes. Once he was naked, too, he joined Jaskier in the river, and hardly even reacted to how cold the water was, the mutant. But Jaskier had to admit, the way Geralt washed him felt divine. It was completely unnecessary, as Jaskier reiterated to him every chance he got, but every time Geralt just hummed or shushed him, then went back to washing Jaskier’s hair. Eventually, Jaskier gave into it. He leaned into Geralt’s body and allowed himself to be taken care of; he even managed to doze a little against Geralt’s chest. 

Leaving the water wasn’t very nice, but the way Geralt led him with a hand on the small of his back was.

The potion, solution, stew, whatever it was, that Ciri made didn’t taste nice, but the way Geralt smiled at her and told her “You made it perfectly,” made Jaskier feel the warmest he had all day.

Soon, his body felt so heavy and his mind felt so cloudy that all he could do was lean into Geralt’s side. The witcher held him like it was the most natural thing in the world, like they had always done this, and carried on testing Ciri on the uses of various herbs and roots. Jaskier barely noticed drifting off.

When he woke--hours later, judging by how the fire had died down--he was on a bedroll, tucked tightly against Geralt’s body. Jaskier lifted his arm and draped it around Geralt’s middle, managing to press a kiss against Geralt’s temple before the clutches of sleep took him again.

--

Geralt was drunk and Jaskier was delighted.

It didn’t happen often. Geralt didn’t drink to excess unless he felt safe enough to do so, which was rare, especially since gaining Cirilla. But something about this town had, apparently, made him feel secure enough to let loose, because when Jaskier had come back from his performance, Geralt’s eyes were unfocused and he had a lazy smile on his face.

“Ciri, I thought I left you in charge,” Jaskier teased.

“And I did exactly what you taught me to do--arrange the situation to my advantage,” Ciri smirked back, and, ah, she did look a little hazy eyed as well. Sneaking drinks was much easier when Geralt was also drinking, Jaskier assumed.

He had to admit, though, he was very proud of her mischief. But now he had a very, very inebriated witcher on his hands.

“Well, I think the party is officially over. Let’s go upstairs,” he said, standing up.

Geralt’s gaze was lazy and fond, and it never left Jaskier. Although he also did not seem to be listening to Jaskier, because it took several tugs to get the witcher to stand up. Jaskier was relieved that Cirilla at least seemed to be more sober than his White Wolf, but that still meant that her steps were meandering as she, more or less, led the way upstairs.

“I don’t have to bar your door, do I?” Jaskier asked, turning a stern gaze on Cirilla, though he was pretty sure the impact of it wavered some due to the way Geralt was leaning on him and petting Jaskier’s cheek.

“The innkeeper stopped serving me about an hour ago anyway,” Ciri huffed. “And everyone fun already left. I’ll stay in, I promise.”

Jaskier narrowed his eyes at her a moment longer, as Ciri made a cross over her heart, then grinned toothily and slipped into her own room. Jaskier sighed fondly, before opening their door, which really would have been easier without Geralt nipping at his neck and earlobe the entire time.

“Geralt, honestly. You do make this difficult,” Jaskier whined, but he finally opened the door and all-but dragged the witcher through the threshold.

He barely got the door closed before Geralt was pressing him back into it. Jaskier huffed a laugh as he curled his fingers into Geralt’s gorgeous white locks, keeping Geralt’s head exactly where it was: sucking and nipping a mark into Jaskier’s neck.

“Not a very subtle location, darling,” Jaskier mumbled.

“Good,” Geralt answered. His leg shifted and his thigh pressed against Jaskier’s hardening length so deliciously, eliciting a gasp from Jaskier’s lips. “Then they’ll know you’re mine.”

A flush crept across Jaskier’s face. “Yours, hm?” Geralt hummed his affirmative. “It’s a pity you heal so fast. I can’t leave anything on you.”

“They know,” Geralt answered, pulling back to admire his handiwork. The grin he gave was downright wolfish, just moments before he leaned back into Jaskier’s space to kiss him so hard that Jaskier was sure his lips would be kiss-bruised tomorrow, too. He couldn’t find any will to complain. Especially not when, minutes later, Geralt continued, “Don’t need marks for everyone to know I’m yours.”

--

They were getting closer to Kaer Morhen.

Although Jaskier knew that was always the destination, and that Ciri and Geralt had to get there soon, he still wanted, more than anything, to stall them. Soon they would have to part, and Jaskier would have to find some way to grow used to sleeping alone again. He didn’t even know if he’d see Geralt again in the spring, like usual. Maybe he and Ciri would stay in Kaer Morhen for protection. The idea of a season without Geralt was enough to inspire Jaskier into a mournful ballad. The threat of longer had him feeling too empty to even pick up his lute.

He didn’t want to ask, but he had to. And it was easier at night, when it was harder to see Geralt’s face. Wrapped up as they were, he knew Geralt could still see his, so Jaskier only spoke once his nose was buried in Geralt’s neck. It was going to be hard enough to harden his body language--Jaskier didn’t think he’d be able to keep his face neutral.

“We’re very far north,” Jaskier began.

Geralt hummed. His fingers played with Jaskier’s hair at the nape of his neck, and it would have been so easy to just pause there, end the conversation, and let Geralt be tender with him. Only for Jaskier to continue to feel on edge as they got closer and closer to Kaer Morhen.

“We’ll be at Kaer Morhen soon.” 

Geralt only hummed his agreement again. Was he really going to make Jaskier ask? Jaskier waited a moment, but Geralt did not continue. Apparently he was. 

“Do I have another week? A few days?”

Geralt’s hand stilled. “Jaskier?” he asked, and he sounded so confused.

“Until we part?” Jaskier just barely whispered it. He didn’t want to will this into reality, but he had to know. He had to know how long he had left with Geralt and Ciri, until he had to make his own way.

Geralt was silent for a long time. When he finally spoke, he sounded pained. “You’re not coming to Kaer Morhen?”

A wave of ice rolled over Jaskier. He pulled back, suddenly very, very frustrated that he had waited until nightfall to have this discussion. He couldn’t see Geralt’s face, only his eyes that just barely shone through the darkness. Well, if he couldn’t see Geralt’s face anyway, then he might as well have the reaction his nerves felt like they needed. Jaskier sat up, looking incredulously at Geralt as he tried to puzzle this out.

“I didn’t--you never--” Jaskier sputtered, turning around to face Geralt. So much for schooling his expression. Jaskier was bewildered. He tried a few more times to speak, his mouth opening and closing over and over until Jaskier was sure he looked quite like a fish. When he finally found his voice, he sounded quite hysterical to his own ears. “I thought it was only you and Ciri going!”

Geralt slowly sat up, too. His hand was hesitant as he reached for Jaskier, but even with the hesitancy, Jaskier startled some when Geralt touched his hip. Geralt continued on anyway, tugging Jaskier closer.

“I thought you were coming, too,” he said, and his voice sounded as hesitant as his hand had been.

Jaskier stared at this man, this bewildering, reticent man before him, his mouth agape. “Geralt, you didn’t-” he started, then paused. Gods, his voice sounded wrecked. Jaskier knew he wanted to go, but he didn’t know just how much he wanted it until now. He tried again. “You didn’t ask me to. I-I thought. I thought I couldn’t.”

Geralt hummed, but instead of answering, he laid back down. After a moment, he hauled Jaskier down with him, pulling their hips flush and smoothing away Jaskier’s surprised squack with his lips. Jaskier melted into the kiss--he hadn’t found some way to mess this up. Though he still didn’t know where this left them.

“Geralt,” Jaskier insisted, finally pushing Geralt away with a hand on his chest.

Geralt hummed, tried to kiss him again, then let out a soft, breathy laugh when Jaskier’s hand stayed firm.

“Jaskier, come to Kaer Morhen with me,” he whispered, and a shiver went through Jaskier’s body. He was pretty sure nothing Geralt had ever said to him sounded quite as seductive as that, and he wasn’t even trying to seduce Jaskier now. “I want you there.”

Jaskier grinned, and leaned in for a kiss, but Geralt pulled back. Jaskier raised an eyebrow, confused, until Geralt nudged his hip against Jaskiers.

“Oh, you great, big--yes, darling. Of course. Of course I’ll come to Kaer Morhen.”

This time, when he surged forward to kiss Geralt, Geralt didn’t pull away. In fact, he wrapped his arms around Jaskier and tugged him on top of his body. Jaskier’s legs bracketed Geralt’s hips and his arms haloed his head as they kissed. He didn’t need to breathe anymore; Geralt had more than filled him.

“Can you please go to sleep?” Ciri asked after a while, and Jaskier had to laugh at how annoyed she sounded. “Gross.”

--

Jaskier was being good. Honestly, he was. If being good meant sulking in the corner of a tavern while Geralt and Yennefer discussed “very important matters” at the other end of it, then he was being a saint.

Geralt had only told them this morning that they needed to stop in Gelibol. Jaskier was excited; he was ready to have an actual bed to sleep rather than the cold, hard ground. Not to mention, Ciri was just as ready as Geralt and Jaskier were to get some time away. What Geralt had failed to mention was the fact that Yennefer was the reason they were in Gelibol, not because he was so overcome with lust for Jaskier that he just had to fuck and be fucked by him until they were both sated enough to finish the hard journey to Kaer Morhen.

Jaskier had stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the sorceress; Cirilla only just barely managed to stop in time to avoid a collision. Then he turned on his heel, leveling Geralt with a glare that Geralt, the absolute demon, shrugged off.

“She has information on Nilfgaard, Jaskier,” he said, stepping ahead of Ciri and leading Jaskier into the tavern with a hand on the small of his back. He brought Jaskier to a table and all but pushed him into the chair. Jaskier glared up at him, but allowed the manhandling. Damn him. “The more we know the better.”

“Can I talk to her, too?” Ciri asked, though Jaskier saw the hurt flash across her face for the briefest of moments.

Geralt must have seen it, too, because he shook his head. “Not yet. Watch Jaskier. Don’t let him do anything stupid,” he said, then paused a moment. “Or drink himself to death.”

Jaskier scowled at Geralt as he turned to the sorceress, and just barely managed to resist the temptation to mock him. He did, however, immediately order copious amounts of ale from the barkeep.

“You don’t like her very much, do you?” Ciri said, sitting down next to Jaskier so that she, too, could watch the conversation.

“Now, what gave you that idea?” Jaskier asked, before downing half his ale in one go, and immediately motioning for another.

The conversation between Geralt and Yennefer went on long enough that by the time Geralt returned to the table, Jaskier was well and truly drunk. And moody. But he had been moody before Geralt had left, so that wasn’t much of a change.

Geralt’s steps were wary as he approached the table. “I thought I asked you not to let him drink himself to death,” he said, looking reproachfully at Ciri.

“He’s still alive,” Ciri answered with a shrug. “And, really, what did you expect me to do when he’s like this? Scream at him?”

Jaskier snorted, but Geralt only pinched the bridge of his nose. “Yennefer wants to talk to you. I already bought our rooms. I’m going to take him upstairs.”

Geralt reached for Jaskier, but Jaskier threw up his hands. “I can walk myself, thank you,” he said, though he grimaced a little at how his words slurred together. Okay, maybe drinking as much as he had in such a short period of time wasn’t the best idea. But Jaskier was emboldened with righteous fury. And maybe a little jealous. And hurt. Mostly the emboldened with righteous fury part, though.

He slammed his hands on the table, loud enough that a few nearby heads turned, and pushed his chair out. Jaskier took a deep breath and stood up, swaying enough that Geralt took a step forward, but Jaskier waved him off. He wasn’t about to be carried out of here in front of Yennefer of Vengerberg. Even if, really, he probably needed it.

Jaskier managed to make it to the stairwell without too many issues, aside from nearly knocking over a stool as he rounded the corner of the bar. Yennefer hadn’t even said anything, except for whatever she had scoffed into her drink as he passed, but Jaskier hadn’t heard it and was too afraid if he wheeled to face her that he would eat the floor. He wanted to maintain some shred of dignity, thank you.

These stairs, however, were not happening. Jaskier stared at them hopelessly for a moment, then stepped up the first one, only to immediately stumble back down. His hands clenched into fists as he tried again, and this time he got four steps up, before he swayed dangerously back and had to be caught by Geralt.

“Geddoff,” Jaskier grumbled, pushing half-heartedly at Geralt. 

He pressed his hand against the wall and tried again. This time he got only one step and was attempting a second when Geralt sighed behind him and swept him up into a bridal-style hold.

“I can do it,” Jaskier insisted, feeling hot shame wash over him.

“Maybe by next week, but we don’t have that kind of time,” Geralt replied, and Jaskier sighed and allowed it--not that he really had much of a choice. The only thing fighting against Geralt would do now is land him very painfully on the floor, and Jaskier had zero intention of causing that kind of drama.

So Geralt carried him to their room, through the doorway, and dropped him unceremoniously on the bed. Jaskier groused to himself and rolled over onto his side, curling his body up on what could generously be called a mattress as he heard Geralt undress.

“S’where are you sleeping?” Jaskier asked. God, he sounded miserable. This wasn’t a good look, and he knew it, but he was far past being able to help it now. “Didn’t Yennefer get a room?”

“Stop it, Jaskier,” Geralt sighed.

Jaskier did stop. He didn’t say a word or move as Geralt’s boots landed heavily on the floor. The mattress dipped a bit as Geralt sat on the other side, and Jaskier could just barely feel the heat from Geralt’s body.

“What’d’you learn?” Jaskier asked.

“Nilfgaard is much farther south. They took a big hit a few months ago. They’re rebuilding and seem to have no idea where Ciri is. Yen thinks they’ll start looking again soon, but we have time until then. She didn’t have more information on Ciri’s powers, but she’s going to look into it, see if anyone can help her. She had some suggestions on how to help her harness it, though.”

Jaskier harrumphed. He was, somehow, more bitter at the fact that talking to Yennefer was useful. Of course it would be, though. The sorceress was brilliant. And had far more ability to do information digging than anyone in their party could. Honestly, Jaskier was surprised Geralt didn’t meet up with her sooner, and yet--

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He sounded petulant. He knew he did. He couldn’t help it.

“Is that what this is about?” Geralt sighed again. “I had a feeling you’d react poorly. Clearly I was wrong.”

Jaskier finally turned just enough to scowl at Geralt, then rolled back over. He grunted a reply back.

“Damn it, Jaskier. What’s the matter with you?” Geralt snarled, finally standing up.

Ah, there they were. It hurt, but a masochistic part of him wanted this. It was easier if Geralt at least had a reason to yell at him. Then Jaskier could control this.

“Nothing, Geralt,” he mumbled.

Geralt rounded the bed, kneeling to look at Jaskier’s face. Jaskier reared back and rolled away onto his stomach so he could turn his face to the other side, ignoring Geralt’s frustrated huff.

“You don’t wear jealousy well, Jaskier.”

Jaskier pushed himself up on his hands, turning his glare back on Geralt. “I’m not jealous, Geralt,” he exploded. He was, but that wasn’t what this was about. Jaskier would always be jealous of Yennefer, for having a piece of Geralt that Jaskier couldn’t have, for being the one Geralt chose over him, but that wasn’t what this was. “You didn’t talk to me. You didn’t tell me the real reason why we were here. Instead you hid it from me and-and-and-”

He didn’t know what else he wanted to say. He didn’t know what the and was. He pushed himself up fully, sitting on his calves, and pressed the heel of his hands into his eyes. 

“Is this it? Where you... Take back my invitation? She can offer more for Ciri, so now it’s time to yell at me and push me away? Because I’m jealous?”

“You pushed me away tonight.”

“Oh, so for once it’s me! Great! I’ll go tell Yen that this time it was me that drove you to her, at least this time I will have had warning before you go off--”

“Jaskier,” Geralt cut him off, and something about his tone made Jaskier quiet. Geralt scrubbed a hand over his stubble, and the room was suddenly so quiet that the sound was loud. “You’re drunk. And you’re spiralling. And you need to stop. You’re being an asshole, and still, I’m here. Not with Yennefer. With you. So will you shut up and stop this?”

Geralt had barely finished speaking before Jaskier was launching himself into Geralt’s arms. Bless witcher reflexes, honestly, because anyone else would have dropped Jaskier. Jaskier hugged Geralt tightly, pressing his face into Geralt’s shoulder. Half of him believed that if he didn’t throw his entire strength into it, then Geralt would still extract himself from Jaskier and leave the room. No matter how much a self-hating part of him had wanted that before, he desperately didn’t want that now.

“Are you going to tell me why you’re acting like this, then?” Geralt asked minutes later, climbing onto the bed when Jaskier showed no sign of letting go.

“I’m sorry,” Jaskier almost sobbed into Geralt’s shirt. Another reason why it was good Geralt was a witcher, with strengthened witcher hearing. Jaskier was barely understandable. Even if he had extracted himself from Geralt’s shoulder, he was weepy from the drink. “Last time-last time you went to her over me every time. And you sent me away. And you didn’t tell me she would be here. And I didn’t want you to go. But. But if you did, I wanted it to be my fault.”

Geralt sighed, his grip tightening on Jaskier’s back as he slowly rocked them back and forth, like Jaskier really was a child. He felt like it, now, just barely holding back tears from his tantrum. He wished he had stopped two tankards ago, so he could have had this conversation like an adult. There was little he could do about it now, though.

“I’m not going anywhere, you drunk fool,” Geralt said. “I should have told you. And you should have talked to me. What, you get a little insecure, and all of your bardic talents for endless speech fly out the window?”

He was teasing him, and Jaskier huffed out a relieved laugh. He hadn’t ruined things, no matter how much he had tried to. 

They stayed there for a long time, just holding each other as Jaskier calmed down. His face remained flush the whole time, though at this point, Jaskier wasn’t sure if that was from the drink or from the shame of his actions. The door to the room beside them opened and closed, and the footsteps must have been familiar, because he felt Geralt relax just slightly against him.

It was a slow process, but eventually they ended up laying in the bed, Jaskier’s body draped over Geralt’s, his arms looped under Geralt’s shoulders and Geralt’s arms drawing idly on Jaskier’s back. Jaskier was slowly drifting off to sleep when he finally spoke again.

“Why don’t I have a nickname?” Jaskier mumbled, but the words held no bite.

Geralt gave him a breathy laugh. “Jaskier is a nickname.”

“That doesn’t count, darling, you know it doesn’t.”

Geralt hummed, but if he replied, Jaskier didn’t hear him, because he was already asleep.

--

After Jaskier had ruined their stay in a town, it took a lot of needling to convince Geralt to make another stop before their ascent to Kaer Morhen.

“Please, Geralt? It will be so nice and cozy in a bed. And you’ll be able to have a bath. In something other than a frigid river. I could wash your hair.”

Geralt hummed. “We could have had a bath in Gelibol.”

Jaskier sighed. “I apologized a hundred times, Geralt. When will you stop punishing me for what I did?”

Geralt smirked, leaning in close to Jaskier’s ear to whisper, “It’s too bad. I had planned to have you on your hands and knees. I would have used my mouth to open you up until you begged me to fuck you. We had a whole night without contracts. Just you, and me, and complete privacy.”

Jaskier shuddered, then glowered at Geralt. “You punish me, Geralt.”

“Maybe in Yspaden,” Geralt answered, shrugging as he pulled away. “If you’re good.”

Jaskier recognized the offering for what it was--a chance for Jaskier to truly make up for his behavior in Gelibol. Though Geralt had insisted he wasn’t mad, Jaskier knew his witcher was as disappointed as Jaskier was that Jaskier had squandered a perfectly good night in an inn. And for all Geralt grumbled, he knew as well as Ciri and Jaskier did that they would need a final night in comfort before they stumbled their way in the frigid cold to Kaer Morhen. Yspaden was their last stop before facing the other witchers, assuming they also returned. 

The relief was evident on Ciri’s face, too. Surely she had dealt with quite enough of Geralt and Jaskier’s bickering after leaving Gelibol. Having such a disappointing, largely unresolved night had set both men on edge, and as such most things set them off into petty squabbles these days. Really, it was for the good of all of them that they stop in Yspaden for a night.

When they entered the town, it was like a spell had been cast over all three of them. Everyone’s shoulders relaxed and they found themselves drawn to an inn as if it was calling to them. They didn’t have much coin left, but there was enough for two rooms for two nights--the unspoken agreement being that they’d spend the following day replenishing their purse--and hot meals all around. They ate their food in silence, just barely managing to nod at each other before they retired to their rooms for the night.

The bath was still hot and steamy when Geralt and Jaskier entered the room, and Jaskier took Geralt’s belongings from his hands, urgently casting his eyes toward the tub before Jaskier set about staging the room exactly as Geralt always did. Swords close and easily accessible, but everything more or less hidden away.

By the time Jaskier turned back, Geralt had shed himself of his clothes and had climbed into the bath, and Jaskier lept to join him. Geralt’s clothes had been discarded in a somewhat organized fashion--they were at least all in one pile--but Jaskier’s garments trailed their way to the bath.

Geralt breathed out a laugh as Jaskier slid into the tub, straddling Geralt’s thighs.

“Who invited you?” he asked, his eyes lighting up with mirth.

“You did. It was written across your face,” Jaskier answered. 

He began washing Geralt, but in a lazy, slow way. Really, his attention was more on feeling Geralt’s body than strictly getting him clean, but judging by the way Geralt sighed and leaned into Jaskier’s hands, he didn’t seem to mind. Jaskier had only just barely started to move on to actual soap when Geralt’s hands started to roam.

“I’m meant to be washing you, Geralt,” Jaskier admonished as Geralt’s fingers trailed intently up Jaskier’s thighs. He gasped as, in response, Geralt pressed his thumbs into Jaskier’s inner thighs, dragging them deliciously toward Jaskier’s groin, only to pull away at the last second.

“So wash me,” Geralt answered, his grin so big his sharp canines showed.

It was difficult to wash Geralt when he was so insistent on being a menace but, somehow, Jaskier prevailed with as little stuttering as he could. It became more difficult, though, as Geralt’s insistent hands looped around Jaskier’s body, rubbing determined circles into the swell of Jaskier’s ass until he finally moved close enough to spread him open. 

Jaskier groaned, his hands stilling over Geralt’s chest as he doused Geralt’s flesh with water, trying to dispel the soap. Geralt’s eyebrow raised, and Jaskier had to resist hard not to kiss that smug look off his face.

“Problem?” Geralt asked, just as a finger began rubbing light circles over Jaskier’s hole.

Jaskier moaned, but shook his head. “N-no, no problem here,” he answered, though his lips remained parted and his breath grew more ragged. He was determined to finish his task, however, no matter how much Geralt wanted to tease him. And if he spilled a little too much water over Geralt’s face as he attempted to wet the witcher’s hair, well, that was only an occupational hazard.

“Dick,” Geralt growled, though the sound held considerably less bite as Jaskier heard a bottle of oil open behind him. 

Jaskier’s thighs tensed in anticipation as he massaged Geralt’s scalp. Geralt’s first finger was insistent upon him, pressing inside with very little resistance, as Jaskier threaded his fingers through Geralt’s hair, spreading the lather. As Geralt continued to fuck Jaskier slowly, thoroughly, every drag of his finger against him pressing deeper, Jaskier leaned forward, until he was supporting himself by his forearms pressed against Geralt’s shoulders. Still he washed Geralt’s hair, being perhaps a bit more exhaustive to the task than strictly necessary, but if it bothered Geralt, he did not speak it, only added more fingers, opening Jaskier up more for him.

Jaskier’s breath was coming out in noisy little puffs, just barely more substantial than whimpers, and he pressed his open mouth against Geralt’s shoulder.

“I thought you were washing my hair?” the smug bastard chided, and Jaskier could hear his smile.

Jaskier’s hands went back to work, now he carded his fingers through Geralt’s hair in the water. “I’m trying. You need to--ah--t-tilt your head back.”

Geralt obeyed him, and Jaskier set to work. He whined as Geralt removed his fingers from inside him, but then Geralt was pressing him forward with firm hands behind his thighs, and the way their hard cocks slid together briefly had Jaskier’s head falling forward, a moan wracking through his body. His job was forgotten, momentarily, as Geralt’s cock pressed against his entrance, and Jaskier pressed into it before the hand Geralt had kept on his thigh pressed him back up.

“You have a task, lark,” Geralt said, and Jaskier’s answering whine was breathy and weak.

Geralt didn’t move until Jaskier lifted his hands and returned to washing the soap out of Geralt’s hair. Even then, the pace he set was torturously slow, almost as if he wanted Jaskier to feel every inch, filling him up. And, Gods, wasn’t that a thought that had his breaths punching out of him.

By the time Jaskier was fully seated on Geralt’s cock, Geralt’s hair was clean. Still, he carded his fingers through Geralt’s hair, but now it was appreciative, loving, rather than filled with purpose. He pressed his mouth into Geralt’s shoulder, babbling at him, talking too fast for either one of them to really understand it, but likely some recognition would make its way through his hazy brain hours later.

When Geralt finally started to move, to fuck up into Jaskier, Jaskier was already overwhelmed in the best of ways. He lifted his head to speak into Geralt’s ear, though most of what came out of his mouth was “Geralt” and “please” and “more” and “yes” rather than actual coherent sentences. If Geralt minded, he didn’t say anything, only let his breath warm Jaskier’s shoulder as he sunk his teeth just over the bone.

His climax came to him slowly, and then all at once. Jaskier jumped straight from digging his nails into Geralt’s chest to desperately grabbing at Geralt’s hair just to have something to hold onto. Jaskier lifted his hips and pressed down in tandem with Geralt’s thrusts, taking him deeper each time, until Geralt was fucking hard against that spot inside Jaskier every time. He went from breathy whimpers and soft begging to loud, passionate moans, begging Geralt, though what he was begging for, neither one of them truly knew.

Geralt’s fingers dug into the back of Jaskier’s thigh, helping Jaskier keep the pace, and his free hand tugged on Jaskier’s cock, pulling him once, twice, three times, until Jaskier finished with Geralt’s name on his tongue and Geralt, biting hard enough to leave a bruise, came inside him only a few thrusts later.

Geralt’s hips slowed, but he didn’t stop fucking into Jaskier until Jaskier’s body fell limp against Geralt’s. Jaskier’s fingers threaded their way through Geralt’s hair again, reveling in the soft, silky locks just as much as he was reveling in his witcher.

They didn’t move again until the water had gone cold, and even then, it was only because Jaskier started shivering. Geralt tried to bundle Jaskier up, concern knitting his eyebrows, but Jaskier waved him off, instead toweling off the witcher, much to Geralt’s chagrin. Jaskier would not be fussed over, not now, not when it was so clearly Geralt’s turn. Jaskier didn’t let Geralt bundle Jaskier into his arms until they were warmly tucked into bed, the fire in the hearth letting off a faint light that illuminated Geralt beautifully.

“Lark?” Jaskier questioned, a playful smile at his lips.

Geralt laughed into Jaskier’s neck, his shoulders lifting abashedly. “You wanted a nickname, didn’t you?”

Jaskier hummed, considering this. “Technically, I believe it’s more like a pet name, darling.” Geralt let out a breath and Jaskier held back a laugh. “I love it.”

Geralt pulled away from Jaskier, lifting himself up on one arm and considering Jaskier. “It suits you,” he said, trailing the back of his fingers along Jaskier’s cheekbone. “My lark.”

Jaskier let his eyes flutter closed as Geralt caressed him. “My heart,” he mumbled in return.

And it was only fitting, only fair. Because Jaskier had given Geralt his own a long, long time ago.

[dustedmagazine]

Ian Mathers’ 2020: We’re stuck inside our own machines

I’ve had a song I loved in high school and haven’t thought much about since stuck in my head. The song “Apparitions” by the Matthew Good Band is a fine example of the alt rock of the late 90s; if you grew up then but somewhere down in the states (or elsewhere) instead of my southern Ontario you may well have your regional equivalents, and like this one they may not resonate terribly strongly outside of their time and place. It popped back into my head after a long time recently and of course 2020 has changed it a little. A song that as a teen I felt keenly as about loneliness (albeit also about how technology can feed into that) of course now plays on my nerves as another small piece of art about the way that most of us (those scared and/or responsible anyway) have only that relatively narrow, technologically mediated connection to the people we love. All of us, artists and listeners alike, are trying to fit our feelings and art and selves down these little connections, with some success.

On a personal level, 2020 wound up being stressful in ways we couldn’t have predicted even after the pandemic hit. In circumstances that could have seen governments on this continent support those unable to work (and those who shouldn’t have to), support those workers who are truly essential, support workers and renters and even landlords and small businesses, instead we got a near-total abeyance of those governments using the resources we provide them with to save any of us. On a personal level my wife and I were lucky enough to be able to work from home (not that it didn’t come with its own forms of stress, and now that I’m off until January I have several work/stress-related illnesses to recover from) but still saw friends and loved ones lose good, used-to-be-sustainable livings overnight, saw family businesses succumb to a near-total absence of effective government support after months of trying to keep above water, etc.

It is probably no surprise that this is not a situation conducive to listening to music, let alone writing about it; I have deliberately and happily kept busy on behind the scenes stuff at Dusted that I could still manage but looking, at the end of the year, at the amount I managed to actually create is demoralizing if not at all shocking. I’m not sure I think next year will be ‘better’ in many important ways, although at our job there is a growing feeling among coworkers that next year has to have some work/life balance because 2020 was, maybe more than anything else, unsustainable.

That’s not to say I didn’t spend a lot of time and emotion on music this year, and if nothing else constant sleep deprivation, stress, and panic meant I was probably open to being deeply moved by all sorts of art even more than normally (it’s gotten to the point where I can’t even read a sad or moving twitter thread out loud to my wife without getting teary, which is kind of… nice?). Funnily enough the band that did the most to keep me sane didn’t really put out anything in 2020. Personal favorite, Low, instead started, in early April, getting on Instagram with something they called on whim “It’s Friday I’m in Low.” With one brief break they have now done by my count at least 35 shows (catalogued here, by the way), every Friday at about 4 my time.

Admittedly it’s easier for Low to pull this off than some bands, since the 2/3 of the trio that sing are a married couple (they’ve had a couple of socially-distanced backyard shows with bassist Steve Garrington, but he’s mostly been isolating elsewhere). These shows have seen the band’s Alan Sparhawk take a mid-set break to do follow-up phone interviews with the acts featured in the COVID-curtailed touring bands series Vansplainingthat they started on YouTube, or just to give a tour round their vegetable garden and talk tips. It’s seen Alan and Mimi Parker draw on their impressive, 25+ year body of work (averaging 4-5 songs a set, I don’t think they’ve repeated themselves yet) and talk a bit between songs about pandemics, politics, song choices, and whether Alan should grab his bike helmet this time.

They’re not the only musicians out there speaking love and sanity (and playing music) into the strange digital interzone filled with hate and disinformation where we’ve all been forced to gather while locked down, but they were and the most consistent and steady signal being emitted each week. No matter how tired I was from work or what new symptoms I’d developed or what horrific thing I read into the news, even if I had to take an emergency nap while it was actually airing, every Friday the show was there. Once things do return to something more like normal, it’s one of the few things I’ll unambiguously miss about this weird-ass year.

So if that makes an argument for Low as my band of the year (admittedly again… it’s not like Double Negative has aged poorly, either), that does a disservice to those 2020 records I did connect with; even if there are still literally dozens I have to go through, many of which I expect to love, my top picks this year (if as unrankable by me as always) hit me as hard as any top pick in recent years did. So here I present a quick and informal top 5, which the rest of my top 20 following in alphabetical order. Here’s hoping for more time and space in 2021 for music, and even more than that, for more support for those who need it from those who could have been providing it all this time. (The Matthew Good Band, incidentally, always did best with their ballads. “Strange Days” is another I’ve had in my head these days; the image of moving “backwards, into a wall of fire” has stuck with me since the 90s and it’s never felt more grimly appropriate.)

Greet Death — New Hell

New Hell by Greet Death

This one is, in some sense, cheating; it came out November 2019. But that just means it’s the latest winner of my personal Torres Prize for Ian Being Late to the Party (so named because becoming slightly obsessed with Torres’ Sprinter just after I sent in my 2015 list was the first time I noticed that one of my favorite records of each year tends to get picked up by me just after I call it quits on the year, no matter how long I try to wait). This very doom and gloom slowcore/metal/(whatever, just know it’s heavy) trio at first felt very much like my beloved Cloakroom (whose Time Well has also won a Torres Prize) but sure enough nuances revealed themselves. Back in February it felt almost a little too negative, but then the rest of 2020 happened. And the extended burns of “You’re Gonna Hate What You’ve Done” and the title track remain searing.

Holy Fuck — Deleter

Probably the record I’ve been trying to write about the longest in 2020, and the one I’m most disappointed in myself that I just couldn’t get the requisite paragraphs together. It’s a wonderful effort from the consistently great Toronto resolutely human-created (and —mediated) dance music quartet, one that both feels like a summation of everything they do well, and with the addition of some outside voices (including strong turns from the singers of both Hot Chip and Liars) a step forward at the same time.

Spanish Love Songs — Brave Faces Everyone

Brave Faces Everyone by Spanish Love Songs

As the year got worse, this roar of defiance only got more crucial for me to hear every so often; I was a big enough fan of it, even after writing it up for Dusted, that when they solicited fan footage for a subsequent music video you may just be able to get a glimpse of me in it. (I’m the one in a “No Tories” t-shirt.) My punk rock-loving twin brother was the one who introduced me to Spanish Love Songs and we were supposed to spend an evening in June screaming along to them live in a packed, sweaty room. I need that in my life again.

Julianna Barwick — Healing Is a Miracle

Healing Is A Miracle by Julianna Barwick

It’s a sign of what 2020 has been like here that even just this album title leaves bruises, and while I privately worried Barwick would have a hard time following up 2016’s sublime Will (probably my favorite record that year), it seems that continuing to take whatever downtime she needs to keep focusing and refining her particular muse has once again yielded amazing results. Anyone who thinks they know what a Barwick track sounds like should really check out, say, “Flowers”, but much of this record absolutely sounds like Barwick, just even better than before. She also boasted my wife and I's favorite streaming concert of 2020, an absolutely gorgeous rendition of this album with Mary Lattimore showing up.

Phoebe Bridgers — Punisher

Punisher by Phoebe Bridgers

I joked on Twitter recently that I have far too nice a dad (and far too good a relationship with him) to be as obsessed as I am with Phoebe Bridgers’ “Kyoto”, but here we are. Like most of her generation, Bridgers’ social media presence ranges from shit-posting to inscrutable, but even though things are often just as hard to figure out in her beautiful songs (as they often are in life), there’s an emotional clarity to them that can just grab you deep down. Couple that with seriously impressive songcraft and the progress from her already astounding debut Stranger in the Alps and more than anyone else in 2020 I’m excited to see just where the hell Phoebe Bridgers is going to go, because it feels like she’s talented and hardworking enough to go just about anywhere and drag a lot of our hearts with her.

Other Favorites

Aidan Baker & Gareth Davis — Invisible Cities II

Anastasia Minster — Father

Deftones — Ohms

Hum — Inlet

Kelly Lee Owens — Inner Song

Mesarthim — The Degenerate Era

Perfume Genius — Set My Heart On Fire Immediately

Protomartyr — Ultimate Success Today

Rachel Kiel — Dream Logic

The Ridiculous Trio — The Ridiculous Trio Plays the Stooges

Sam Amidon — Sam Amidon

Shabason, Krgovich & Harris — Philadelphia

Stars Like Fleas — DWARS Session: Live on Radio VPRO

Well Yells — We Mirror the Dead

Yves Tumour — Heaven to a Tortured Mind

Five Reissues/Compilations/etc.

Aix Em Klemm — Aix Em Klemm

Bardo Pond — Adrop/Circuit VIII

Charles Curtis — Performances & Recordings 1998-2018

Coil — Musick to Play in the Dark

Hot Chip — LateNightTales

Ian Mathers

[robinrunsfiction]

Swing Life Away

Pairing: Gerard Way x Female Reader Rating: Teen Requested By: None Word Count: ~7,000 Author’s Note: This story is about about what can happen between two people whose lives aren’t turning out exactly how they planned and what happens when they turn to each other.  Inspired originally by the song “Hold On To Me” by Mayday Parade, there is a full playlist here of songs that inspired this story. TWs for mentions of substance abuse and depression. Post Bullets-era AU.

Gerard sighed as he pulled up in front of the convenience store. His well worn hoodie didn’t provide much relief against the New Jersey autumn air as he hurried inside. After checking the amount of cash he had in his pocket, he got a small coffee and headed to the counter. He rocked on his heels as he waited for the person being helped ahead of him to finish. Finally it was his turn.

“Anything else?” The girl behind the counter asked as she punched his coffee into the register, then she looked up. “Oh hey Gerard.”

Hearing her say his name, he looked up as well. “Oh, hey (YN), it’s been a while,” he smiled a little awkwardly.  “Umm, can I get a pack of cigarettes?”

“Yea, sure. How’ve you been? I haven’t seen any fliers for a My Chem show recently, are you guys not playing right now?”

Gerard’s eyes widened for a moment and his mouth went dry. He didn’t think he would be having this conversation today, but (YN) had been coming out to My Chem shows since the beginning and he knew she was a genuinely nice person who deserved to hear the truth. “Umm, I broke it up.”

(YN)’s jaw dropped and she started to blush. “Shit, I’m sorry, I hadn't heard, otherwise I wouldn’t have brought it up,” she replied, nervously tucking at her hair.

“It’s ok,” he shrugged, trying not to let on that he was still disappointed about the whole situation. “Ray and Frank already found other bands to play with and I got a job at the comic book store so I’m back to something else I enjoy, so it’s ok really.”

“What about Mikey?”

Gerard rubbed at the back of his neck. “That’s why I broke it up. He, umm, he's got some problems. He’s in rehab,” Gerard mumbled the last part, barely audible to (YN).

“Fuck,” she breathed, looking down at the counter in front of her.

“Yea, our parents blamed me for the whole thing and kicked me out. I’ve been couch surfing for a while, or just staying in my car,” Gerard nodded toward his beat up old car parked out front. “Sorry, I just kinda dumped that all on you.”

“No, I asked, and I understand. Shit, I’m really sorry about all that,” (YN) said as she took Gerard’s money for his purchase. “Hey, please don’t be afraid to say no because this is a crazy idea I just had, but my roommate moved in with her boyfriend because she got knocked up, and I’ve been looking for someone to split the rent with. If you’re looking for a place,” (YN) trailed off with a shrug.

“Really?” Gerard asked, eyebrows raised. He was surprised at the offer. None of his friends that he had been crashing with had offered to let him stay more than a couple days at a time.

“Yea, I mean, why not?” She shrugged. “Wanna come over and check it out tonight?”

“Sure, that sounds good, what time?”

“I get off at 6, so like 6:30?”

“Yea, I can do that,” he smiled and (YN) felt like a massive weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

“Cool, here’s the address and my phone number for whatever,” she said as she scrawled the information on the back of his receipt.

“I’ll see you tonight,” he said with a wave after pocketing the cigarettes. For once in a long time, Gerard finally had some hope that things were about to turn around.

~

When (YN)’s shift was over at 6, she rushed home to quickly straighten up before Gerard arrived. She desperately needed a roommate or she’d have to break her lease and be in the same situation Gerard currently found himself in, but she didn’t want to let any stranger move in. At least she knew Gerard a bit; he was always nice and fun to be around when they hung out after shows, plus he had a regular job, which was good enough for her. 

Shortly after 6:30 the doorbell rang and she rushed to answer it. “Hey Gerard, come on in.”

“Thanks,” he smiled, almost a little nervously. 

(YN) gave him the tour through the small house, showing him the open bedroom across the hall from her own, the kitchen, and bathroom. “As you can see, I don’t really have a lot of furniture,” she said when they got back to the empty living room. “My roommate had all that unfortunately, so I just kinda hang out in my room. I don’t have any weird rules or anything, and the neighborhood is safe, sooo yea. Rent would be $600 a month each plus utilities, if you’re interested after all that.”

Gerard looked around again. “Yea, I mean this would be great.”

(YN) let out a sigh of relief she didn’t realize she was holding. “Oh that’s awesome, thank you. I really didn’t wanna lose this place.”

“Oh yea, I understand,” he smiled his lopsided smile. “How soon can I move in?”

“Whenever you want. My old roommate had paid through the end of this month, so we’re ok there. I’ll let the landlord know and do the paperwork stuff.”

“Do you mind if I stay tonight? ‘Cause I don’t have,” he trailed off.

(YN) felt absolutely gutted when she realized he meant he'd be spending the night in his car, as temperatures dropped near freezing. “Oh, shit, yea, I can help carry stuff in if you want,” (YN) said quickly, grabbing her coat from the closet and following him out to his car.

Gerard didn’t have much with him, a few changes of clothes, a blanket, pillow, and a backpack full of cds and comics. He insisted that he was fine to sleep on the floor, but (YN) still gave him an extra pillow and a couple of blankets to make himself a bit more comfortable.

"Thanks again (YN) for letting me move in here and everything," Gerard said as (YN) turned to go. "I can't begin to tell you how much I appreciate it."

"I think it's gonna work out well for both of us," she smiled as she closed the door behind her.

~

Gerard retrieved the rest of his belongings that weekend and got everything moved into his room. (YN) tried to give him space while he got settled, but eventually they started talking a bit more, getting to know each other as they got used to being around each other.

A few weeks later, (YN) was sitting on the counter next to the microwave when Gerard arrived home from work, the smell of fresh popcorn greeting him. “Hey, what are you doing tonight?” (YN) asked as Gerard walked into the kitchen.

“Umm, nothing, why?” Gerard asked.

“I was getting ready to watch a movie, if you wanna hang out.”

“Yea, sure,” he nodded. “What were you thinking?”

“I dunno, any of the classics that are easy to watch, like Star Wars or Back to the Future,” she shrugged.

Gerard’s eyes lit up. “I was thinking about Empire Strikes Back earlier today.”

“Well let’s watch that one then,” she nodded, hopping off the counter as the microwave beeped.

Gerard went back to his room and dropped his backpack on the bed. He opened it up and examined the bottle of alcohol he had purchased after work. He wasn’t sure why he did it, he had told Mikey that he’d get sober too, but he had been feeling so depressed lately, he thought it might help to take the edge off.

Instead, he stashed it under his desk and changed out of his work clothes and into some pajama pants and a comfortable t-shirt so he could relax. When he walked into (YN)’s room, he was reminded of the lack of places to sit other than with her on her bed. “I’ll go get my desk chair,” he said, turning to leave.

“Oh grow up, you can sit on my bed with me,” she laughed, patting the spot next to her.

“I didn’t wanna assume,” he said rolling his eyes as he sat down, the popcorn bowl between them. Gerard finally had a chance to really look around her room, and the first thing he noticed next to the modest tv was a bookshelf filled with movies. "Woah, I never noticed your movie collection before, how'd you get so many?"

"My cousin worked for Blockbuster up until a couple years ago. She got all those at a discount and when she moved to Chicago she decided she didn't want them anymore and gave them to me."

"That's cool," Gerard replied, continuing to look around. Against the amethyst walls white Christmas lights were hung, bathing the room in a warm glow. Taped to her wall above her bed were dozens of photos, that appeared to be mainly of friends, parties, concerts, and pink roses. "You have a lot of friends."

"I don't talk to most of them any more," she said, glancing up. "They all moved on with their lives and I stayed here."

"There's nothing wrong with that," Gerard replied. He had been one of those people, he had moved on with his life, until it got out of control and now he was here as well.

(YN) shrugged. “Sometimes I wonder if maybe I should try to move on too,” she said with a nod to the photos. “Stop living in the past or whatever. Anyway, what’s it like working at the comic book store?”

Gerard shrugged. “It’s pretty good. On slow days I can just read comics for my whole shift, and the people that come in are pretty cool to talk to.”

“Do you miss music?”

Gerard looked thoughtful for a moment. “Some days. But as long as I’m doing something I enjoy, I’m happy.”

(YN) glanced over at him and smiled. “That’s good.”

Later that night (YN) had gotten up to go to the bathroom when she noticed a sliver of light coming from Gerard's doorway. When she peeked in, she saw him at his desk, working intently.

“What are you working on?” Gerard heard (YN) ask from the doorway.

“Oh umm, just this comic idea I’ve been working on,” he replied. When he looked back at her, he spotted his clock, reading that it was nearly 4 AM. “It’s so late, did I wake you up?”

“No, I just got up to go to the bathroom and I saw your light on,” she said padding quietly into the room. “Can I see?”

“Sure,” he said, turning the paper toward her.

“That’s really really good. What’s it about?”

“They’re like an adopted family of superheroes. They all have different powers and their father is trying to train them to save the world,” he said looking up at her. To his surprise, she seemed to be genuinely interested.

“You’re really talented."

"It's not that great," he shrugged.

“Pfft, are you kidding? That girl is so pretty, and there aren’t even words yet and I can tell this guy is super mad at this other aloof guy.”

Gerard looked back up at her in awe. “I’ve been struggling all night because I didn’t think it conveyed that clearly enough.”

“Nah, it’s great, you’re doing great,” she replied. “Are you just doing it for fun, or are you gonna try to get it printed?”

“I’d love to get a comic printed, but I don’t know if I ever will.”

“Like I said, you’re really talented, I bet you could make it happen. I’ll even buy a copy and tell people that you were my roommate when you were working on it.”

Gerard laughed lightly. “I’ll dedicate it to you.”

“I can’t wait. G’night Gerard,” (YN) said before retreating back to her room.

~

It was a bitterly cold winter day when (YN) returned home from work to find another car in front of the house. When she came in, she heard another voice she thought she recognized.

“Hey (YN),” Gerard called as she walked into her room.

“Yea?” She called back, dropping her things.

“Mikey’s here.”

“Oh! Hey Mikey, how’s everything going?” (YN) asked, as she walked into Gerard’s room and found his brother sitting on the bed. 

“Good,” he nodded.

She nodded as well. “I'll get out of your hair, sorry to interrupt,” (YN) waved as she ducked back into her room. Gerard had been talking about how well Mikey had been doing since finishing his program, but as far as she was aware, this was the first they had seen each other since he had completed it.

A while later she was in the kitchen getting dinner when Gerard walked Mikey to the door,  exchanging a hug before he left. After the door was closed, Gerard let out a sigh.

“Mikey looked like he’s doing good,” (YN) said as Gerard trudged into the kitchen.

“Yea,” he replied, but the tone of his voice wasn’t happy. “But he doesn’t think he can stay clean here so he’s moving.”

“Really? Where?”

“California. We got some family out there that will keep him straightened out, and keep him away from the people who got him messed up in the first place, like me.”

"Did he say you specifically?"

"No, but-"

“Gerard,” (YN) interrupted sternly. “Just because you started the band doesn’t mean you’re to blame for what he chose to do.”

“I shoulda been looking out for him more. I was such a drunk shtihead I didn’t even know what was happening,” he said running his hands through his hair.

(YN) stepped forward grabbing his arms and pulling them down. “Gerard! I have spent months now listening to you talk about Mikey. You guys both learned some lessons the hard way, but he wouldn’t have kept calling you while he was in rehab and come to visit today if he blamed you. He could have cut you off, moved to California without a word, but he didn’t. That means something, right?”

Gerard looked like he was on the verge of tears but he nodded.

“You guys are both gonna be alright,” she said, letting go of his arms, and wrapping him in a hug.“Sorry, “ just felt like,” she said trailing off with a shake of her head when she pulled back.

“It’s fine, I needed that,” he smiled. “All of it, thank you.”

~

It didn’t seem like enough time had passed when in the late spring (YN) checked the mail and found a letter from their landlord with the paperwork to renew their lease. She sighed nervously as she made her way to Gerard’s room. Now it wasn't just that she didn’t want to have to find a new place to live, it was the fact that she liked living with Gerard. She liked hanging out with him and she had come to care for him as a real friend. She also recently realized that she had at some point developed more feelings for him, but she pushed those aside.

“Hey Gee?” She said knocking on his door.

“Yea?” She heard him call from the other side before she opened the door.

“We got the lease renewal paperwork today. Did you wanna extend the lease for a full year?”

“Yea, sure. I like it here,” Gerard replied with a smile.

(YN) let out a sigh of relief. “Good, I’m really glad to hear that. I’ll leave this with you, just bring it back when you get it signed at all the flagged spots.”

“Ok,” Gerard nodded as he flipped through the packet.

A while later (YN) looked up from the magazine she was reading when Gerard knocked on her door. “I got the lease thing signed,” he said, walking in and handing her the paperwork.

“Cool, I’ll drop this off tomorrow,” she nodded. “I’m really glad this has worked out.”

“Me too,” Gerard said. “Umm, I never mentioned it before, but I had been living in my car for a couple weeks when you offered me this place.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize it was that bad,” (YN) murmured.

“I was in a really low place, like I was almost at my breaking point ya know, but umm, when I say this turned everything around for me, I mean it. I was able to pick up more shifts at work and I could afford to go back to my therapist and get on my meds again. So thanks for saving my life,” he said with a nod before turning to leave.

“Gee wait,” she said getting up.

“Yea?”

“I… I don’t know what to say except I’m really glad that you’re here and you matter a lot to me, and,” she shrugged as her words failed her. She just wanted Gerard to know how important he was, not just as someone to share rent with, but as well as all the complicated feelings she kept bottled up inside.

Gerard stepped back across the room and wrapped his arms around her. They stood silently hugging for a while before he pulled back. “Hang on.” (YN) nodded as he hurried over to his room and then came back with a bottle of liquor. “Here, you can have it, or get rid of it, it doesn’t matter to me. I bought it months ago because… it doesn’t matter, but that night you invited me to hang out and that meant a lot. I started working on my comic again that night too.”

“I remember that,” she smiled, as she took the bottle from him. “You’re gonna do big things Gee. I’m glad I can cheer you on.”

~

“Are you sure you don’t wanna come along?” (YN) asked from the doorway of his room. She was heading out to a party with her friend, but to Gerard, she already seemed a little unsteady on her feet. 

“No thanks, I gotta work in the morning,” he replied. Just then, a car horn went off outside the house.

“That’s Eli. I’ll try to be quiet coming in,” (YN) waved before hurrying out to her waiting friend.

Gerard got so wrapped up in the page of his comic he was working on he completely lost track of time until his phone went off. "Hello?" Gerard answered his phone.

"Heeey, is this Gerard? (YN)'s roommate?" He heard a female voice slur from the other end.

"Yea, why?" He asked, panic striking through him. He glanced at his clock, it wasn't that late, why was someone calling him about (YN).

"Can you come get (YN)? She's like super drunk and I'm gonna go back to this guy's place but I don't wanna leave her here alone."

"Wait, is this Eli?"

"Yea, can you hurry up before she barfs or something, I can't deal with that."

"Yea, yea, text me the address, I'm on my way," Gerard replied, already slipping on his sneakers.

A while later Gerard was pulling up in front of the house where the party was happening. As he got out of his car, he saw (YN) sitting on the front lawn with a girl he'd never met before, he presumed it was Eli.

"Hey (YN), are you ok?" He asked as he approached. He could tell (YN) had been crying, despite how dark it was.

"Yea," she sniffled and got up unsteadily.

"I'll call you tomorrow, ok sweetie?" Eli said, already heading toward a guy who had been waiting in the distance.

(YN) waved her off as Gerard helped her to the car. Other than the radio playing an old Radiohead song, there was nothing but silence in the car.

"I've never seen you this drunk," Gerard suddenly blurted out. "Are you ok?"

(YN) sniffled again. "I haven't really eaten in a few days and then Eli wanted to do shots when we got to the party and now I'm stupid and wasted," she whined.

Gerard pulled up to a red light and looked over at (YN). She had her head against the window and was staring blankly ahead. "Why haven't you been eating much? Do you need money for groceries? I can kick in more."

"Because I wanna be skinnier so you'll think I'm pretty like the girl you drew in your comic" she said so softly it was almost a whisper.

Gerard's heart broke at her words. "(YN), I do think you're beautiful. You don't have to change for me at all," he said looking back at her just before the light turned green. (YN) turned her head to look out the window so he couldn't see her reaction.

A few blocks later pulled up in front of a convenience store. "What's your favorite gatorade?" Gerard asked.

"Red," (YN) mumbled.

"Ok, wait here a sec," he said as he got out.

Gerard hurried inside, grabbing a big bottle of the drink, as well as a couple burritos.

"Here you go," Gerard said as he handed her the bag. "At least try to eat one to settle your stomach."

"Thanks," she replied, staring into the bag. She was too embarrassed to look up at Gerard at that moment. She felt like an idiot for getting so drunk that he had to take care of her. If she ever had a shot with Gerard, she was sure she had blown it now. 

The rest of the drive was just as silent as it had started until they arrived back in the house. Gerard put his arm around (YN) and helped her inside. She was already feeling less dizzy as she sat down on the edge of her bed and pulled off her shoes. Gerard took the bottle of gatorade and set it on her bedside table, plugged her phone into the charger, and brought in the garbage can in case she had to be sick. 

"You'll probably feel terrible tomorrow," he said with a slightly sad smile as she pulled the blankets over herself, not even bothering to change out of her clothes.

"I deserve it," she mumbled as she turned her face into her soft, cool pillow.

Before she could fully register what was happening, she felt Gerard kiss her head. "No you don't," he said before turning out the light and shutting the door behind him.

(YN)'s thoughts were spinning like the world had been earlier until she eventually passed out.

~

The next day (YN)’s phone was vibrating on her bedside table, but the sound felt like a jackhammer vibrating through her skull. Groaning, she opened her eyes to find the offending device.

Hey girl! Call me when u get up so i know ur alive the text from Eli read.

(YN) looked at her clock, it was almost 1 in the afternoon. She dragged herself out of bed, discarding the clothes she had worn the night before, and into the shower, the cold water jolting her awake. Climbing back into bed, she picked up her phone to call her friend.

“You survived,” Eli cheered when she answered the call.

“Oh my god, please shut up,” (YN) winced.

“Oh, you’re really feeling it huh?”

“Yea, I think I got run over at some point last night.”

“No, I didn’t let you run across any roads this time. Maybe Gerard did after he picked you up. How'd that go?”

“I don’t remember,” (YN) groaned. “I remember he bought me food and gatorade,” she said, picking up the bottle of the now room temperature drink.

Eli hummed. “Well he seems like a good guy, he came right to get you no questions asked when I called.”

“Yea,” (YN) agreed, pulling her knees up to her chest. “I just feel so dumb for getting so wasted.”

“It happens. And at least he’s seen you at your worst now. Has he said anything?”

“He’s at work I think.”

“Ah, well at least you got some more time to recover before you have to face him.”

“Why do you have to say it that way?” (YN) groaned as Eli laughed.

The friends talked for a while longer until (YN) heard the front door open.

“Shit, he’s back,” (YN) whispered, her embarrassment flooding back.

“Ok talk to you later, and don’t worry about it!” Eli said brightly before hanging up.

(YN) glanced up and saw Gerard hovering awkwardly by her door. “Hey, how you feeling?” 

“Been better,” (YN) replied, tucking a piece of her half wet hair behind her ear awkwardly. “Umm, I don’t really remember a lot from last night, but thanks for coming to get me and everything.”

Gerard nodded. “It’s no problem.”

“I feel really stupid. I won’t be doing that again anytime soon, I promise,” (YN) laughed dryly.

Gerard laughed a little as well. He didn’t know if he should bring up anything that was said between them the night before since she had said she couldn’t remember much, but he couldn’t help but wonder what she did remember.

~

After a few days, (YN)’s embarrassment at her drunken night finally started to diminish and she and Gerard’s interactions went back to normal. A while later, (YN) was hanging out in Gerard’s room talking about a show they had been to the weekend before when her phone rang. 

"Hello? Oh hi," (YN) answered. "What?! Is he ok?" She jumped up and left the room, but Gerard could still hear her end of the conversation, causing him to grow more concerned. "No I didn't see anything, there wasn't anyone… Ok... Yea… Ok let me know."

The color was drained from her face when she walked back into the room.

"What's wrong?" Gerard asked, his brows knitted together.

"Right after my shift ended the store got robbed. My coworker John is in the hospital and they took all the cash. The store is gonna be closed for a couple days I guess."

"Fuck," Gerard replied, totally stunned.

"I think I'm gonna go to bed," she said blankly before turning back toward her room and Gerard heard the door close behind her.

A while later Gerard got up to go to the kitchen to get another cup of coffee, but when he stepped into the hall, he stopped in his tracks. It sounded like crying coming from (YN)’s room.

"(YN), are you ok?" He asked as he knocked on her door, but she didn't answer. Cautiously he opened the door and found (YN) was sitting on her bed, knees pulled up to her chest, sobbing. 

"Shit," Gerard whispered as he rushed over and pulled her against him, letting her cry on his shoulder.

"It coulda been me. I could be in the hospital or dead right now and no one would even notice or care! Just another loser with no direction in life dead. I've wasted everything, I've ruined my whole life!"

"You haven't," Gerard said, rubbing her back. "I'd care very much if anything happened to you. And you have plenty of time. I had a job at a tv network and gave it up to form the band, and now I'm trying to get into comics."

"But I'm not talented like you! I have no skills, I never went to college because I didn't know what I wanted to do and I still don't. I just don't want to be stuck here the rest of my life waiting to get held up at gunpoint," she sobbed. "I'm just too stupid to get out of my own way long enough to figure anything out."

“No you aren't stupid, sometimes it just takes more time to get it figured out."

Eventually (YN)’s sobs started to quiet and she pulled back. “Thanks Gee. You really didn’t need to do this.”

“Yea I did. I couldn’t just let you be alone when you feel like this.”

(YN) sighed. “Every time I close my eyes I just picture it happening to me. I’m so tired, but I don’t think I’m gonna be able to sleep tonight.”

“Hang on,” Gerard said, getting up. (YN) saw the light from his room shut off, and he came back. “Ok, come here, I’ll keep you safe,” he said as he settled in next to her.

(YN) felt like her heart was going to burst through her chest as she slid down next to him. She laid her head on his chest as he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close.

~

Something shifted in Gerard and (YN)’s relationship that night, although nothing was spoken of it. They started trading off whose bed they slept in, crawling into bed together just to be close to the other. When they watched a movie together, she rested her head against his shoulder. When (YN) was in the kitchen making coffee, Gerard would come in and wrap his arms around her and hold her close while she worked. The day after (YN) had a really bad shift at work, she came home and found a pink rose that looked like it had been trimmed from someone’s garden sitting on her bed.

It was a warm early fall evening when Gerard and (YN) showed up at a party held by a friend of a friend. (YN) had gone off to talk to Eli, and Gerard found himself watching her from across the yard. He wished he was by her side, his arm wrapped around her waist, holding her close, that’s where he felt happiest.

"Why are you looking at your roommate like that?" Frank asked, appearing at Gerard's side.

“Jesus,” Gerard muttered under his breath, startled. “What are you talking about?”

“Like you wanna get out here and get on top-”

“Stop, no, it’s not like that,” Gerard shook his head.

“Oh, so you don’t care if I go ask her out then?”

“What? You can’t!” Gerard blurted out. “I mean, what about Jamia?”

Frank grinned and pointed a finger in Gerard's face. “Exactly! So what are you gonna do about it?”

“Everything is fine, we’re fine,” Gerard grumbled.

As the sun began to set more people showed up, filling up the backyard. Without warning there was a shout as two guys started pushing each other, and then punches began to fly. 

(YN) found herself too near the fight and tried to get away from the fray, but more people were rushing to watch or take part in it and she couldn’t get past. Suddenly she felt someone grab her hand, interlacing their fingers with hers. She was about to pull away when she looked up and realized it was Gerard.

“Come on,” he said, pulling her out of the crowd.

“Thanks for not leaving me behind,” (YN) said once they were a safe distance from the fracus. 

“I couldn’t ever leave you behind,” Gerard smiled back at her. 

At that moment she became conscious of how their hands were still intertwined and how closely they were standing. (YN) didn’t want to move and lose the moment, but police sirens started cutting through the shouts of the brawl. “Oh shit," (YN) started laughing. “Let’s get out of here!”

“Here we go again,” Gerard smirked as they took off running, hand in hand, through the backyards until they couldn’t hear any of the commotion any longer. When they finally came out on a side street, they were both out of breath, but laughing. The smell of rain hung in the air.

“I have no idea where we are now,” (YN) laughed.

“Me neither, but,” Gerard trailed off with a shrug as they started walking aimlessly down the street.

(YN) glanced down, not totally understanding why Gerard was still holding her hand, but she still wasn’t planning on letting go. Then she noticed Gerard glancing down as well.

“(YN),” he started.

“Sorry,” she said, starting to pull her hand away, but Gerard held tighter.

“No, it’s not that,” he said, stopping under the street light. A soft rain began to fall around them. "It's that I don't wanna change things between us, but I really want to," he hesitated then took a step closer to (YN). He raised his free hand and gently caressed her cheek before leaning in and pressing his lips against hers.

(YN)'s mind was spinning. She couldn't believe that this was really happening, that Gerard, her roommate, her friend, was now kissing her in the middle of a desolate street. She kissed him back, not knowing if this would happen again, and she wanted to make the most of this chance.

Gerard's hand moved from her cheek to run through her hair, now soaked from the steady rain. He dropped her hand that he was still holding, but only so he could wrap his arm around her and pull her closer against him as he deepened the kiss and she draped her arms over his shoulders.

When they finally pulled apart, the rain had them both soaked and they were laughing together again. “We should try to find our way home,” Gerard said glancing around.

“Let’s go this way,” (YN) suggested with a nod down the street.

Gerard nodded with a smile and wrapped his arm around her shoulder as they headed back to find the car.

~

The next morning (YN) woke up in her bed with Gerard holding her tight. She had hoped to spend all morning being lazy with him, but what had woken her up was her phone ringing on her bedside table.

“Hello?” She whispered.

“Hey (YN), I know you don’t work until this afternoon, but we got a call out, can you come in this morning and work a double?” (YN)’s manager asked.

(YN) let her face fall against her pillow and groaned softly. “Yea I guess so.”

“Great, see you as soon as you can get here.”

When (YN) glanced over at Gerard, he was just waking up. “What’s wrong?”

“I wanted to spend the morning with you here, but I got called in for a double shift,” (YN) pouted.

“Damn,” Gerard frowned. “But I’ll be here when you get back.”

“I know,” she sighed before leaning in and kissing him softly. She climbed out of bed and got ready for work. The day seemed to drag by because all she wanted was to go home to Gerard.

“I’m so glad that day is done!” (YN) announced when she burst through the door. She waited for Gerard to reply but didn’t hear anything. “Gee? Are you here?”

“Yea,” he replied forlornly, coming out of his room.

“What’s wrong?” She asked.

“I’m gonna go out to visit Mikey,” Gerard said.

“Oh cool!” (YN) smiled up at him and he felt like his heart was breaking.

“And when I’m out on the west coast, I’ve got a meeting with Dark Horse Comics about my project.”

“That’s awesome!” (YN) grinned. But when she didn’t see the same level of excitement in Gerard’s face, her own excitement faltered. “Isn’t it?”

“Yea, I guess. I’m just nervous about it. There are a few things they wanna discuss about developing it and stuff. But I might have to move out to the west coast if this all works out.”

“Oh,” (YN) said, surprised. She tried to keep her disappointment hidden. “That’s an incredible opportunity though.”

“I know, but we’ve only just-”

“Gerard, don't you think for even one second about not going because of me,” (YN) interrupted him. “I have wasted my entire life being so afraid that I’ll make the wrong choice, that I let every decent opportunity pass me by. I care about you too much to let you do the same.”

Gerard didn’t know how to respond, other than to take a step forward and wrap (YN) into a tight hug. "Thanks," he mumbled against her neck. 

They stood like that for a while, neither willing to let go. “Come on, let’s order something for dinner to celebrate,” she suggested once they pulled back.

~

The following week, Mikey picked Gerard up from the airport. They put together a list of places Mikey loved to check out the next day.

After stopping at the coffee shop down the street, the comic book store that always had what Mikey was looking for, and the record shop with the friendly owner they went to the beach to kill time before dinner. 

"You ok? Are you nervous about the meetings or something?" Mikey asked. He had noticed Gerard seemed distracted all day, but Gerard just shook his head. "Then what's wrong?" Mikey asked.

"I couldn't sleep last night," Gerard said with a glance at his brother.

"Is the bed uncomfortable?"

“No, it's not that," he paused. "It's that I can’t sleep without her,” Gerard said, looking down at his hands.

"(YN)?"

"Yea."

“How long have you been together?” Mikey asked.

“We haven’t officially, but it’s, I mean...” Gerard stammered, searching for the words to define something that had only just begun and had no definition.

“But you love her?” Mikey filled in the gaps, knowing Gerard better than Gerard knew himself.

Gerard listened to the waves crashing on the shore. He didn't even realize when he had fallen in love with (YN), because it wasn't like a lightning bolt from the sky. It grew out of lazy days talking for hours, nights sleeping in the other's bed just because they wanted to be that close to each other, the way her hair fell in her face, her laugh, her lips, her selflessness, the way she was always pushing him to do more and be better. And now there he was, missing her like crazy, ready to throw away his dream if she asked him to. But she hadn't, and she wouldn’t. She encouraged him to go across the country and chase it down, even if it meant leaving her behind.

“Yea,” he said with a soft smile and Mikey nodded.

Silence hung between the brothers for a while as the sun began to set. “It’s almost time to meet up with Kristin for dinner,” Mikey announced as he got up.

Gerard nodded and followed him back to the car. As they drove away from the beach, Gerard thought about how much he wanted to bring (YN) here. He knew she’d love it. It felt like there were so many possibilities, fresh starts for everyone. He just needed to get them out of New Jersey.

~

(YN) paced outside the arrivals gate, checking the screen with the times over and over. Gerard’s flight was on time, he should be arriving shortly. She had spent most of the day excited that he was coming back today, but now that she was at the airport waiting for him, she felt incredibly nervous.

Gerard hadn’t called since he let her know he had arrived safely. She had insisted that he spend his time with Mikey and getting ready for the meetings and not to worry about her, but that didn’t stop her from thinking about him all the time. The first night she tried to sleep in her own bed, but ended up crawling into his because his pillows smelled like him and it made her heart ache a little less. And it’s where she had spent the rest of the week.

That morning as she sat in his bed, knees pulled up to her chest as she sipped her coffee in the cool morning air, she looked around his space. They’d been living together almost a year now, and the room had become so uniquely his. The comics that were stacked up next to his bed, the drawings that littered his desk, the records in the crate he painted himself. All things that went into what added up to Gerard. She smiled softly as a realization dawned on her as she shivered.

“I love him,” (YN) admitted to herself softly. “I really, truly, love him.”

Now at the airport she glanced up at the screen and saw his flight had arrived. Her heart started hammering in her chest as she started to look around, not knowing how soon he’d appear. What felt like an eternity later, she finally spotted a mop of black hair.

“Gee!” She called as she rushed over to him. Gerard dropped his bag so he could wrap his arms around her in a big hug. He pulled her in for a kiss in the middle of the crowd of travelers.

“I missed you,” he murmured when they pulled back.

“Me too,” she smiled.

"Let's get out of here," he smiled as he took her hand and they went to find her car.

"So how was the trip? How was Mikey? And the meetings, tell me everything!" (YN) gushed as they finally arrived at her car.

"Mikey's doing really good. He has this girlfriend, Kristin, she's super sweet, you'll really like her," he said as he threw his bag in the trunk.

"Oh yea, maybe I’ll meet her one day," (YN) smiled.

“(YN), I wanted to wait until we were someplace nicer than the airport parking ramp, but I can't wait any longer. I got the job at Dark Horse so I’m gonna have to move out west,” he paused, reaching out and taking her hands. “But I can’t leave without you because I love you so much (YN). It’d be a new start for both of us, together. Please?”

It took (YN) a moment to fully process what Gerard said. "Yes!" She finally replied in awe.

Gerard grabbed her face between his hands and pulled her lips to his as tears spilled from behind her closed eyes. He held her close as he kissed her with everything he had. When they pulled back, he rested his forehead against hers. 

“I love you too Gerard,” she murmured. “And thank you for not leaving me behind.”

“I couldn’t ever leave you behind.”

[minyoongijjangjjangmanboongboong]

You’ve Got Mail: Jungkook One Shot

Request: Hi! I really love your writings! If your requests are still open, can you pls write a Jungkook story? Ex-lovers in high school where he broke up with her because he got bored or something like that. Then they met again in university and wants her back again. (Angst but happy ending pls). Thank you!

Description: After a messy breakup with high school heartthrob Jeon Jungkook, you swore off dating once you got into college. Even though it left you lonely, it was easier than being hurt. But one fateful blind date changes everything for you, and you realize that maybe isolation isn’t the answer either.

Word Count: 12.9k

Pairing: Jungkook x (gender neutral) Reader

Tags: Barista!Reader, Graphic Design Student!Jungkook, Non-Idol!Au, Ex-Lovers to Enemies to Lovers (? I guess? Haha)

Genre: Whole lotta angst, fluffy ending

Warnings: None!

A/N: It’s been two weeks since I’ve posted wtf!! But I’m back and less than a week away from the Rose Bowl concert, holy cow. This ask has been in my inbox for MONTHS, so I need to say thank you to the anon who sent it for waiting so long! I really enjoyed this request, so I hope you guys like it too!

Also, if you want to follow me on Twitter please do so! My handle is @/plzpunchmebts. I would post a link, but rumor has it Tumblr killed links and I’m not taking any chances. I’ll be posting concert videos and pics there, so please give it a follow if you’d like to see that!

- Mercury

You were never too keen on blind dates. Everything about them felt…artificial. It wasn’t that you were a romantic, not especially, but you had to admit that being forced on a date by meddlesome friends took some of the magic out of dating. When Sua had mentioned a cute new boy in her class who was too busy studying to date, you had to admit the red flags began waving in your mind. Of course, you could relate. College was taxing and it was difficult to find time to even eat three meals, let alone date. Perhaps if things had cropped up organically, you’d have been more excited. But the forced union was a little cumbersome.

The nerves and the insecurity and the fear, none of it was especially fun. But Sua had been adamant that the two of you would hit it off, and with her eyes round and expectant, her brows raised, and her lips pouted, you really didn’t have any room to deny her. You figured one night of discomfort was better than months of guilt, and even though you figured things wouldn’t work out with this mystery man, you’d humor your friend. After all, making friends in college wasn’t easy.

Making friends in general wasn’t easy.

You sighed as you waited with your chilly hands clasped around your phone, standing at the entrance to the subway station where Sua had instructed. The mouth of the entrance was muggy with exiting passengers as the wave of people clambered up the steep stairs and onto the street, lined on all sides by buildings that reached the sky. Every now and again, someone would graze their shoulder against yours without apology, or perhaps step on the toe of your sneaker. You took a few inching steps backward, glancing over your shoulder to be sure you wouldn’t hit anyone. Not that they’d care. You backed up until you were out of the streamline and instead took up a quieter spot beside a fish cake vendor.

You checked your phone once again, furrowing your brow. Sue said eleven, didn’t she? You pulled up your messages and scrolled through carefully, head tilted to the side as you read her most recent text.

Sua: He said he’s running a little late, but he told me to tell you to wait.

You: I am waiting…

Sua: He says he’s sorry and that the subway is close to the terminal now.

You: That’s good.

Sua: He says sorry again.

Sua: You know, this is kinda dumb. Let me just give you his number so you can text him.

Sua: 51-XXX-XX24

You pursed your lips and crossed your arms over your chest. Sua was right, anyway. Making her your proxy wouldn’t really do you much good, considering she wasn’t here to help you in person. But wouldn’t it be a bit forward to just…text this guy? You didn’t know him yet. And besides, what could you say that Sua hadn’t? Hey, I’m doing this out of obligation, sorry to disappoint! or you can just go back home now and we can tell Sua things didn’t work out. You shook your head and rubbed your fingertip along the screen of your phone, working your lower lip between your teeth. You were just looking for an out. And really, you didn’t want to bail after Sua had gone through the trouble of setting things up. Still, just texting a stranger was a little…

But then again, he’d agreed to the blind date too, hadn’t he? It wasn’t like you were someone he was forced to talk to. He’d come on his own accord. Rubbing your bare forearm in the spring breeze with one hand, you used the other to tap the phone number and save it and, with only your index finger, drafted a slow message.

You: Hey, I’m Sua’s friend. I think we’re supposed to have a blind date today? Haha. That sounded kind of awkward…

Within seconds, your phone dinged with an incoming text and you jumped, nervous, before glancing at your phone once more.

Blind Date: Oh! Haha, hello. It wasn’t awkward at all. Ahh, I’m really sorry I’m late. I wasn’t looking where I was going and I bumped into a cyclist and he gave me an earful so I missed the first subway.

Blind Date: But I’m one stop away! You’re outside exit 2 right?

You: Yeah! I’m next to a fish cake stall. I’m wearing a red blouse, so you can’t miss me :-)

Damn, you thought, was that smiley face too much? You picked at the skin around your nail and glanced up to see the near-constant flow of people was still in full force, the subway exit spitting pedestrians onto the cement sidewalk in droves. You squinted a little, trying to keep a good visual on the staircase leading out. With a sigh, you leaned over your bag to slip your phone inside when it buzzed again. Despite yourself, your heart raced and you eagerly unlocked it to see if he’d responded.

Blind Date: Cute! Let’s get some fish cakes then before we go to the movie.

Blind Date: Ah, subway just pulled in! I’m only a few sweaty staircases away now~

Blind Date: :P

Without meaning to, you smiled a little. Your nerves settled as you leaned on your right foot, grinning softly at your screen. He seemed like a good guy, at least. You were relieved. After the jerks you dated in high school, you’d sworn off dating for a while. Maybe trying to cleanse your palate. It was…oddly refreshing to be talking to someone who didn’t make you feel like you weren’t all that important. Like you were disposable.

Still smiling, you responded with a simple text.

You: I’m excited to meet you :-D

“Y/N?” asked a familiar voice from beside you.

A voice that sent chills up your spine, and not the good kind.

You stiffened and turned, eyes wide, toward the one person you’d been hoping fervently to avoid for life. Standing with his big, brown eyes wide and his hair slightly windswept, Jeon Jungkook stared down at you like you were a ghost. Your lips parted and, heart hammering, you opened and closed your jaw a few times. What were you supposed to say to the boy who broke your heart when you were sixteen?

Years later and he was still the heartthrob he’d been back then, only now he looked…like a man. His cheekbones were prominent, strong jaw, heavy brow and a serious, toned build like he’d lived at the gym in the years between your meetings.

You swallowed hard and slipped your phone in your bag, crossing your arms and thus closing yourself to him. You glanced up at him with a furrowed brow. “Jungkook,” you said with a sigh. “I’m actually waiting here for someone and I don’t want him to get the wrong idea, so if you could-,”

“You’re on a blind date?” asked Jungkook, lips agape.

You shrugged, glancing down the sidewalk toward the open maw of the subway exit, squinting in the hopes of catching your date’s attention. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Wait, but-,”

You sighed and shut him up with a single look his way, sharp, venomous. “I’m gonna to wait someplace else if you’re gonna keep standing beside me.”

“No, it’s not-,”

You huffed and shuffled into the crowd once more, walking purposefully away from him, but Jungkook was hot on your tail and wouldn’t let you out of his sight. Every few paces, you’d glance over your shoulder and see him following you feverishly, angling himself through the narrow spaces between bodies. But you kept going, pushing through, until you were blocks away from the subway station and Jungkook was nowhere to be seen.

You exhaled long and slow, patting your chest to calm down, and veered off toward the shops on your right, taking cover beneath an awning. Something in your bag vibrated and you jumped. Shit. Your date. The spring day sun was warm on your hands as you fumbled with your bag, grabbing your phone once again.

Blind Date: Where did you go??

You gripped your nose bridge and exhaled through your nose. Of course he’d be confused. You were lucky he was nice enough to reach out at all after seeing you weren’t where you said you’d be. You typed your reply quickly, desperate not to hurt his feelings.

You: God, I’m SO sorry. I ran into someone…from a long time ago lol. I couldn’t shake him off, so I ended up down the street a few blocks. By a Burger King.

You: I’m making a really bad impression, huh? I’m sorry. Just…he’s the LAST person I wanted to see today, you know?

You: Or…well, ever haha.

You awaited a response with bated breath, brows knit, and chewed on the inside of your cheek. This blind date was a wild card, really. Since you didn’t know him yet, you didn’t know how he’d respond. And it wouldn’t be his fault if he decided you weren’t worth all the hassle. Honestly, you might’ve been a little relieved if that was the case. Running into Jungkook…it made you remember why you avoided dating.

But despite your expectations, your phone buzzed again and you jumped to grab it.

Blind Date: This person…you really didn’t want to see him?

You: No. It’s just a painful reminder of the past.

You: !!! God, I keep saying awkward things !!! Haha, please forget I said anything. Where are you?

Blind Date: No! It’s not awkward at all. I’m just…

Blind Date: I’m sorry you had to see him then, I guess.

You: Jeez…

You: You’re a really nice guy, aren’t you?

Blind Date: Haha! I don’t know about that…

Blind Date: How about we reschedule for another time? I get the feeling you wouldn’t really be up for a movie right now anyway.

You panicked, heart kicking up. Despite everything you told yourself, you were a little bit happy he was being so understanding. And even though you were scared, you wanted to see if…well…if maybe this guy might be different.

You shook your head. Of course you shouldn’t think that way. Putting your heart out there to be toyed with and thrown aside…you didn’t want to go through it. Not really. And what relationship could be worth all that? You sucked in your breath and typed a quick response, ready to cast Jungkook and this blind date into the banks of your memory to gather dust. Even if this guy did seem sweet…

So had Jungkook, at first.

You: Yeah. That’s probably for the best. I work at that coffeeshop on campus, so I’ll shoot you a text once I get my schedule. :-)

You: I’m sorry for all the trouble today. Seriously.

You sighed and turned on your heel toward the street. If you kept on this sidewalk for a few more blocks, you’d find exit 3. And from there, it was only a 20-minute subway ride home whereupon you could finally collapse on your couch and wait for this cursed weekend to be over.

But before you could take a single step, a text came.

Blind Date: It was no trouble. :D I just feel bad that you had an unpleasant experience…

You: Hey, it’s not your fault haha.

You: Oh yeah! I never gave you my name, did I?

Blind Date: No, actually. Haha.

You: It’s Y/N.

Blind Date: It’s nice to meet you again, Y/N.

Blind Date: You can call me Nochu.

You: … Nochu … ?

Blind Date: Haha, it’s weird huh?

Blind Date: It’s a nickname I prefer.

You: Ah! I see. I’ll call you that then.

You: Nochu.

Blind Date: Y/N :-)

You stood and placed your hands on your lower back and stretched, groaning, a week later. Classes had been dragging lately and with several coworkers sick with a cold, you were one of the only employees left who wasn’t too ill to work. Your body felt like it was slowly failing you. Even your feet were sore from constantly running from place to place. And the quiet coffee shop before you made you feel like taking a long and well-needed nap. Mismatched chairs and bistro tables littered the trendy place and students congregated around the windows or the fireplace or the used bookshelf. Nobody really bothered you except to order or ask for to-go coffee sleeves. Mostly, you just stood there. For hours. Watching everything and nothing at once.

But today the energy was a little different. You’d heard from Sua that the graphic design students were approaching an important deadline, and from the looks of the crowd it seemed that deadline was heavy on everyone’s minds. Laptops and drawing tablets and plenty of coffee littered the tables as students chatted in small groups, none of them looking all too happy. You wondered what the project was, but didn’t want to bother Sua with a useless question. So instead, you just watched over customer’s shoulders as they added thick white lines to separate sections of illustrations or grabbed whole images with slender styluses and slid them to new spaces.

“Excuse me?”

You jumped and turned to the queue which up until moments ago had been completely empty. You made sure to manage your expression with a tight smile and bowed your head. “Sorry,” you said quietly, lifting your eyes to meet the customer.

And, to your shock and horror, you saw a familiar face amongst the group of thee college-aged boys. Jeon Jungkook stood in the middle, a half-pace behind the guy who had roused your attention, and if his expression was anything to go by, he was just as horrified to see you as you were to see him. You felt your back go perfectly straight, eyes wide and lips parted through which only shallow exhales escaped. Your palms grew sweaty and your heart thump-thumped to an uneven cadence.

“Um, what can I make for you?” you asked finally, managing a tight smile at the speaker of the group whose attention was affixed to the sign above your head, reading the menu with squinted eyes. “If you need more time…,” you hedged, avoiding Jungkook’s gaze which you felt burning circles into your face.

“Ah, no I’ve got it,” said the first guy with a polite smile your way. “I’ll have a green tea latte.”

You nodded and wrote it down on your notepad, just to keep things straight. Had your coworkers been stronger in their constitution, you’d have given the order to one of them to get started on. Perhaps you’d even get started yourself and leave the cashiering to them. But alas, you were alone and painfully aware of it.

“Will you be paying separately or together?” you asked, a tinge of hope in your voice. Please say together, please say together, please say together, you thought over and over, like an endless mantra.

The first boy chuckled and gave Jungkook’s shoulder a firm punch. “Like I’ll pay for these good-for-nothings,” he joked before returning his attention to you, smiling. He had a kind smile, but even that did little to ease your anxieties. You simply nodded and took his card as he stretched it out toward you.

The second guy approached, another brown-haired college kid with a polite grin and baggy spring clothes, and hummed. “I’ll do the caramel macchiato,” he said with a nod, fingers still clasping his chin as he scanned the menu and you scribbled his order. “Ah!” he said, pointing at you. You jumped, still on edge with adrenaline coursing through you, but quickly settled with a smile. “And a slice of banana bread.”

“Banana bread,” you mumbled to yourself as you wrote it. “Okay.”

The second handed you a credit card which you swiped quickly, eager to get this whole encounter over with. He took it back with a bow and a smile which you struggled to return because the moment you glanced over his shoulder you caught Jungkook’s gaze, intense, warm browns peering at you like you held answers he’d been searching for. Despite yourself, you blushed and glanced back toward your notepad.

Finally, the moment of reckoning arrived and your nerves made your hands a little shaky as they clasped the pen and paper. Your eyes wavered around the space between your own hands, measuring the empty air, desperate not to look at Jungkook again.

“Um…,” he mumbled, voice a low rumble in his chest. You almost wanted to squeeze your eyes shut altogether, even though you knew how dumb that’d make you look. “Can I get a strawberry smoothie?”

You almost laughed. It was so like him to come to a coffeeshop and order something like that. It was so like him to still have a weak palate when it came to bitter things. It was so like him to chase after you that day, to show up here on coincidence. It was so like him to be exactly who you remembered him to be. Exactly who he was back then.

Slowly, once you’d written his order down, you lifted your eyes and looked at him properly at last. He was dressed well, casual as you expected, all black as you expected, handsome as you expected. His hair was half-styled out of his eyes, and those eyes were the problem really. Dark and depthless, staring down at you with furrowed brow, jaw clenched. If anyone had doubts you two knew each other before, they’d certainly know now with the way he was watching you. The way he hadn’t taken his eyes off of you for even a second.

“That’s all?” you asked.

“Um…yeah,” he responded, blinking at you like he had more to say.

By then, his friends had begun setting up camp amongst the mismatched sofas and recliners, setting up their computers. You caught sight of a drawing tablet as its corner poked out the top of the first boy’s backpack. So they were design majors too? Maybe your blind date had met one of these guys, then. But wait. If his friends were, did that mean…

“You’re a design major?” you asked, unable to stop yourself.

But once you said it, you wished to suck the words back inside like tapioca balls through a straw because across Jungkook’s face flashed a brief glimmer of excitement, eyes wide, mouth already open and poised to respond.

“Yeah!” he said, smiling a little. “I…uh, well you remember how I liked to draw.”

You nodded, typing the total into your cash register. “Yeah, I remember.”

“Listen, Y/N, I’m really sorry about-,”

“Let’s not rehash things here,” you said, eyeing him from beneath your lashes, scanning the shop like a conspirator in search of any prying eyes, any listening ears. “It doesn’t matter anyway. We’ve both moved on so let’s just keep it at that.”

Jungkook shut his mouth and, after a long moment, sighed. “Alright,” he said, sounding defeated. You hazarded a glance up at him and found his eyes long-sighted, gazing down at the counter between you without really looking at it.

“It’ll be 3,500 won,” you said, holding out one hand towards him.

He blinked and shook his head a little, as if returning to himself, and yanked his wallet from the front pocket of his loose joggers. He pulled out a bill and handed it to you. 20,000. Was that the smallest bill he had on him? You examined it with a thinly-veiled scowl. Of course, he was probably making good money doing something impressive. That was Jungkook anyway. The type of guy who just…made things come to him. Like the universe responded to his will. You sighed and went to work on the old register, punching in the amount and sliding the bill inside. You produced his change to find him already bounding toward his friends with his broad back to you.

Panicked, you rushed to the side of the barista station and called out to him. “Hey! You forgot your change!” you shouted, cupping one hand around your mouth. A few patrons turned to look at you and Jungkook.

He barely glanced back at you when he said, “You can keep it.”

And suddenly you were blushing for a very different reason.

That jerk, you thought to yourself as you watched him plug away at some ad he was working on on his tablet. Evening had fallen slowly upon the city of Seoul, and you wanted nothing more than to stroll out into the lavender evening, forgetting this whole unpleasant day. But instead, you had to wait for your coworker, Sora, to relieve you after making you work fifteen minutes past the end of your shift. Scowling, you kept a hawk’s eye on Jungkook and, unbeknownst to him, wished silent curses upon his head. I hope you go bald, you thought. Or worse, I hope you go out for fried chicken and you get only tendons. You crossed your arms and lolled your head to the side.

You shouldn’t have expected Jungkook to change. He’d always been a ‘my pace’ kind of guy. Maybe leaving that tip was his way of flexing his money to you. That he had enough money to just throw around at random baristas he used to hook up with in high school. Or maybe he was pitying you, looking down on you for working such a menial job. Either way, it made your blood boil. You felt the money crinkle in the pocket of your jeans with every step.

You’d briefly considered spitting in his smoothie, but you didn’t want to lose your job over Jeon Jungkook.

After all, you’d already lost your youth to the kid.

You glanced outside and watched the rainclouds gathering. Of course, you’d forgotten to bring an umbrella. It wasn’t like you’d checked the weather on the way out. Grumpily, you glanced down at your phone to check the time. Twenty minutes late now. What did Sora have to do that was so important? Normally, you’d complain to a friend. But Sua was about the closest you had these days and you weren’t sure you could trouble her with it.

But…were you really friends if you didn’t reach out to her from time to time?

Sighing, you glanced around the shop, making sure nobody was watching you, and unlocked your phone. So much had already happened that a quick message didn’t seem reasonable, but you couldn’t very well bury your head in your phone so after every few clicks you’d sweep your gaze around. You settled for an anxious few words between nervous glances at the rest of the shop. Realistically, you were off the clock anyway. But you didn’t want any bad Yelp reviews on your behalf.

You: Sua, on God today is cursed.

You waited a few moments for a response before growing impatient. Everything was taking forever today: that interaction with Jungkook, Sora taking over your shift, and now Sua not responding. Of course, she had no obligation to. She was probably busy with her own preparation much like the other graphic design students. You had no right to expect that of her.

Wasn’t that your problem from the start? Expecting too much?

Your phone buzzed in response as your mind began to drift toward melancholy thoughts and as you slid it open your eyes went wide and your fingertips chilled as the blood rushed to your cheeks.

Blind Date: Hah…I’m not Sua, but I am willing to listen if you need it…?

Blind Date: Was wondering when I’d hear from you.

Mortified didn’t even begin to cover it. You cupped a hand over your lips in horror, and just as you were about to melt into a pile of melted pride on the floor, the door swung open and a breathless Sora met your eyes with a nervous smile. You swallowed hard and pocketed your phone, offering Sora your full attention. He bowed his head to you, bending at the waist, as he approached the counter.

“I am so sorry for being late!” he shouted, loud enough for every patron to glance at him and, subsequently, you.

Your flushed face went beet red as Jungkook turned to stare at you, eyes wide. Of course, another embarrassing moment in front of that guy. “U-um, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it,” you said, waving your hands.

He sniffled and looked up at you, eyes red with impending tears. “I really didn’t mean to, but I fell asleep after class today and-,”

“Sora, it’s cool,” you said, removing your apron and hanging it on the rack behind you. “I’m gonna go now though so I can catch my subway.”

Sora stiffened and nodded, giving you a salute before scampering behind the counter and putting on his own apron. “I really am sorry!” he called after you.

You waved a hand and rushed out onto the sidewalk, lingering beneath the awning as the rain began to drizzle from overhead. You returned your attention to your phone, pushing your hair behind your ears so you could see properly, and swallowed your nerves.

You: I…am such an idiot.

You: I’m so sorry. I was at work and I’m not supposed to be on my phone, but I just…

You: Jesus, honestly you can just delete my number. I don’t think I can look at your contact anymore without cringing.

You were poised to take a step out into the rain when your phone vibrated again and you jumped to read it with barely shaking hands.

Blind Date: No! It’s okay. Seriously.

Blind Date: I can list dumber things I’ve done today alone.

Blind Date: Besides, sounds like you need someone to talk to anyway…?

You blinked at your phone screen a few times, cocking your head to the side. Somehow, his words had calmed you down, just a little. Your flaming cheeks were cooler now when you poked one with the pad of your finger. Your heart wasn’t a hammer against your ribcage. And as you glanced over your shoulder at the window into the coffeeshop, you found Jungkook was no longer in sight. With a few texts alone, things seemed a little better.

You: I won’t bore you with all of it, haha.

You: It was more of a Sua story anyway I think.

You: I’m trying to break through that kinda hesitant first stage of friendship with her and

You: Well anyway, I’m sorry to bother you. Hope you’re doing good?

Blind Date: Haha, hey I get it. Friendships are weird. Took me a while to make any real friends this year since I was so shy.

You: You were shy?

Blind Date: Oh big time. I still don’t really know how to approach people without saying or doing something wrong.

Blind Date: Like today. I think I came across like an asshole to someone.

Blind Date: That happens a lot actually -_-

Blind Date: Being nervous makes me act weird.

You: Really? You sound really confident over text.

Blind Date: Haha really? That’s good to hear at least.

Blind Date: I’m about the least confident person I know.

Blind Date: Whew, not exactly the impression I wanted to give to a possible date! Oops.

You smiled at your phone and began typing out a response when the door by your hip swung open and out walked Jungkook and his friends. Jungkook caught your eye as your smile was slipping into a scowl and you quickly righted yourself, looking away down the busy street. You held your phone close to your chest and popped a hip out to the side, feigning disinterest.

“See you guys tomorrow,” said one boy.

“Yeah,” responded Jungkook, and you saw out the corner of your eye that the guys parted ways. Jungkook lingered beside you underneath the awning, watching you keenly. “Who were you texting?” he asked.

You stiffened and glanced up at him with a frown. “Is that any of your business?” you asked.

He flushed a little, rubbed the back of his head, and let out a few breathy laughs. “Sorry. Guess not,” he said with a sigh.

For a few moments the two of you just stood there, silent. You weren’t sure what to do next without an umbrella, and you didn’t want Jungkook to think you were just…spending time with him for fun. But still, you didn’t move or make a sound. Just watched the steadily increasing rainfall splatter against the pavement, gathering in pools beside the sidewalk.

“Listen,” he began, turning to you properly. You eyed him from below with raised brows. “I really don’t want any bad energy between us, okay? I know things were messy before, but we’re in college now. It’s been years, right?” Some of the tension between you broke, but it was quickly replaced by a new tension: your outrage.

You blinked at him, working your jaw. “Jungkook, you don’t get to tell me when I’m allowed to stop being hurt,” you said, shaking your head. “Seeing you is a little painful, even though it’s been a long time. So…maybe just ignore me.”

Jungkook sighed and gripped the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry, Y/N. You know I am.”

You shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. I don’t really want anything to do with you,” you said, meeting his eyes. Your own calm surprised you. He looked desperate, brows knit and lips parted. “I don’t know why it’s so hard for you to just leave me alone.”

He blinked a few times, eyes wide. “I…I mean, we go to the same school now and everything. I just transferred this year and it’s…I don’t really know many people. It’s not like we’re strangers, so why should we act like we are?”

You swallowed your anger. “I’m gonna go now,” you said, adjusting your bag on your shoulder and walking out into the rain. You turned to look at him. “I don’t think you get what I’m saying, so it’s not worth repeating it again in a different way. Just…leave me alone.”

But before you could take a single step toward the subway entrance three blocks away, Jungkook was beside you in the rain, fiddling with his umbrella. “Wh-what are you doing? I just said to leave me alone!” you called at him over the sound of the rain around you.

Jungkook spat rainwater out from between his lips and shook his head as the umbrella finally popped open and the rain stopped pummeling you, now ricocheting off the nylon. You stared up at Jungkook underneath the dark umbrella, confined beneath it, confined to this small, enclosed space. Your chest was nearly touching his arm and his breath was warm as it fanned across your face. Strawberries. Like his smoothie. Rain was caught in his long eyelashes and his rosy lips were still parted, cheeks a warm pink. He stared down at you and for a brief moment, you felt a hot, shooting sensation running from the top of your head to your toes.

“Let me walk you to the station at least,” he said, scanning you.

You felt a little faint, and the sweet scent of his cologne only made you more disoriented. “I’m fine. It’s only a few blocks,” you said, but even you could admit your voice sounded weak.

He sighed, eyes falling to the ground. “I know I hurt you a lot back then, but…,” he began, then shook his head. “Even if it’s small, I wanna make it up to you somehow. So…let me walk you.”

You rubbed your bare forearm and inhaled sharply, shutting your eyes for a moment. “Fine,” you forced out and the two of you began walking.

“So…,” said Jungkook after a few moments of uncomfortable silence. “How was your date the other day?”

You groaned. “What we’re not gonna do is this.”

Jungkook chuckled. “Sorry,” he said, shaking his head. “Just curious.”

You watched your hands, clasped in front of you, and sighed. “It didn’t happen,” you said. If nothing else, at least your time with Jungkook made you remarkably comfortable talking to him about your thoughts and feelings. “We cancelled.”

“Why?” he asked, brows high.

You shrugged. “After seeing you, I was kinda crabby so…”

“It was my fault?” He pointed with his free hand to his own chest, eyes wide.

“I mean, yeah but not really,” you said with an easy exhale. “It’s for the best anyway. He seems like a really nice guy. I don’t wanna end up hurting his feelings or something.”

“You’d rather be alone than risk having things end badly?” he asked.

You peered up at him. “Wonder why that is,” you mumbled before glancing away.

He sighed. “Sorry.”

“Mhm.”

The rest of the walk was silent as the two of you were forced to simply live with the words you’d exchanged, unable to do anything to alter the events that led you here. All you could do was walk forward, united under a shared umbrella for just a moment, until you ducked out from beneath it and disappeared down the subway station stairs, not even pausing for a moment to wave or say goodbye.

Blind Date: Yikes, did I really scare you off?

You raised your brows at your phone screen as the subway bumped along. It was too crowded to find a seat, so you stood cramped between a stout businessman and a high school girl, all of you holding the railing overhead for stability. You couldn’t help it, but again you smiled. After all the craziness that had come from the day, this stranger seemed to help you feel at ease.

You: Haha nope! It’d take more than that.

You: I bumped into someone I didn’t want to see, so I had to take care of that.

Blind Date: !!! Same person as before??

You: Yeah, if you can believe it lol.

Blind Date: (o_O)

Blind Date: How unlucky can a person be?

You: That’s what I’m saying. (￢_￢;)

You: That’s actually one of the things I was gonna complain to Sua about.

You: Y’know, teenage heartbreak and high school angst. Etc.

Blind Date: Hey, I said it before. I’d love to listen!

Blind Date: Aight, that was too enthusiastic. How about: I wouldn’t mind hearing you out!

You: Lol, good addendum.

You: I mean, it’s not like it’s really that serious. Just…in high school I was really shy. I didn’t have very many friends and I thought that I was fine on my own, you know?

You: But I guess I was lonelier than I thought haha. There was this really handsome guy in my class who started sitting with me on the roof at lunch. At first, neither of us really said anything. Just…sitting together.

You: But after a while, we got pretty close. Half a school year maybe. He said he came up there because the air was nice, but I had a feeling it had to do with the fact that he was a little too popular for his own good. Everyone wanted to talk to him. But he was like me.

You: Introverted, I mean.

Blind Date: Sounds like you two were good friends, then?

You: Yeah, until I caught feelings lol. Mistake.

Blind Date: You confessed??

You: Hehe…yes.

You: After a while being close, I felt really comfortable telling him anything. I told him it wasn’t like I was expecting him to date me or anything. I just wanted him to know so he could be a little more careful around me.

You: But it seemed like he reciprocated.

You: We started dating…I guess?

You: Never put a label on it, which was another mistake on my part for not asking.

You: But we did everything couples did, just…not really in front of anyone from school.

You: Never asked about that either lol.

Blind Date: Oh…

Blind Date: I mean…that doesn’t sound so good…

You: Haha, it’s probably exactly what it sounds like because once we’d been together for about a year, he ended things really suddenly. We were getting ready to apply for colleges and he was gonna go for one in a different city. He said it wouldn’t work out.

You: I fought really hard for it, but he started saying pretty mean things and I didn’t want to get hurt so I ended up conceding.

Blind Date: Mean things?

You: Things I don’t really wanna type out haha…

Blind Date: Shit! Sorry, sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.

You: Hey, don’t worry! Old wounds. I should probably get over it, really.

You: No time like the present!

You: He said he never really liked me and he was only with me because he felt bad for me. Didn’t really love hearing that.

You: He said because I didn’t have friends, he pitied me. That was why he went to the roof to eat with me. Why he kissed me and all that. Took me on dates. ┐(￣ヘ￣)┌  Pretty dumb, imo, but that’s what he said and it seemed like he meant it anyway lol.

Blind Date: Y/N…

You: Hey, you asked!

Blind Date: That’s really shitty. You didn’t deserve that.

Blind Date: You carried that around with you all these years?

You: Hah, admitting it sounds kinda pathetic, huh?

You: I guess it’s not the sort of thing you just…get over. I think I really loved him too, so…

You: Anyway, seeing him now is really weird. Never thought I’d see him around here again, but suddenly he’s everywhere haha. Definitely doesn’t feel great, tbh.

You: Ew, sorry for laying all that on you. Not exactly small talk.

Blind Date: No!! Don’t apologize. I’m glad you talked to me about it. Honestly…I feel really sorry for you. It sounds like the whole thing affected you a lot. :-(

Blind Date: If it makes you feel better, I think I can understand you a little!

Blind Date: Like I said, I’m a bit shy myself. It’s not an issue of having friends, but finding good ones. It’s hard for me to socialize without saying something dumb and regretting it. So for a while, when I first started college, I isolated myself a lot. I didn’t want to make any more mistakes, you know?

Blind Date: But recently, I’ve met some people who are really kind. People who don’t judge me when I mess things up (which is often haha). They help me communicate better.

You: You communicate really well, I think :-)

Blind Date: Haha, thank you. I’m actually blushing a little, whew. Uh, I guess it’s because it’s easier to type things out. Speaking is hard because you can’t just reword things before sending them. You say it out loud and it’s forever, you know?

You: Yeah! Jeez, that actually happened to me today (—_—)

You: I’m glad someone else understands it lol

Blind Date: Yeah, me too.

By the time you received the last message, you were already back inside your apartment, soaked from the walk home. You’d used your bag to cover your phone as you walked and typed, so now the thing was slumped against your dining chair like a sopping wet creature. But still, you smiled at your phone. Even though the conversation with Jungkook had been jarring, you’d almost forgotten it after chatting with your blind date. It felt oddly vulnerable to reveal so much to him, but his reaction had been really reassuring. You set your phone aside and padded to the bathroom to dry yourself a little with a towel, catching sight of yourself in the mirror. Your cheeks were a little flushed, eyes clear, and still smiling. You shook your head, trying to shake off your grin, but when you glanced back at your reflection it was still the same.

With the towel dangling across your shoulders, you returned to the living room and saw your phone lit up with another new text. Smiling, you unlocked it and read what he had to say.

Blind Date: Off topic, but uh…

Blind Date: Did you happen to catch the most recent episode of Game of Thrones?

Blind Date: Because I need to talk about it or I might explode.

You raised your brows and, without meaning to, you laughed. Was this okay? Was it alright to become close to someone like this again? Was it alright to be excited about someone again? You were fearful, cautious, hesitant. After everything with Jungkook, you’d found it impossible to trust people’s intentions. Were they being nice to you because they liked you or because they felt bad for you? Would you get hurt if you trusted the goodwill of the people around you?

You: Um…

You: CAN WE TALK ABOUT ARYA???

You weren’t going to talk to him again.

Well…that was your intention anyway. But by Friday, you’d spent every night up late chatting with this Nochu guy. It wasn’t like you talked about anything all that interesting or profound. Music you liked, games you played, anime you watched. You’d spent the better portion of Thursday night talking about whether Fullmetal Alchemist or Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood was superior. You weren’t sure why you were compelled to respond every time his name lit up your phone. And you really weren’t sure why you were the one reaching out to him now as you sat watching your professor detail the process of molecular movement across a cell membrane.

Perhaps you’d missed making easy conversation with someone you liked talking to…

After high school, you’d become something of a recluse. You spent more nights in than out and despite doing well in your classes, you’d found yourself…slightly lonesome. That’s why when Sua gave you her number after you’d successfully finished a project together a few months ago, you’d been quick to take it. Even though it was a little scary, some small part of you wanted to trust people again.

And maybe that’s why too. Why you were sending this stupid text in the middle of your lecture.

You: Hey dude. You free today?

Blind Date: Hm? Why?

You: Idk, Burger King or smth?

Blind Date: Hehe, are you trying to revive our dead romance?

You: O.O Our romance died already? After one failed date?

Blind Date: Hahaha I mean…you can try giving it CPR if you want…?

Blind Date: Mouth-to-mouth ;-D

You: Yuck, I take it back. Our romance is dead and buried.

You: Anyway, you free?

Blind Date: Uh yeah probs later. I’ve got class until 4.

Blind Date: Does that work for your Burger King plan?

Blind Date: I know it’s hard to get a reservation at that place on short notice >.<

You: I take it all back.

You: I have plans tonight, soz.

You: Talk to ya later, weeb.

You smiled and set your phone down beside your notebook, refocusing on your professor.  But your attention was quickly assuaged by your phone vibrating once more. You smirked down at it and, covertly, read the slew of oncoming text messages with a chuckle.

Blind Date: !!! That’s rude !!!

Blind Date: You can’t just offer a Burger King date and snatch it out from under me like that.

Blind Date: I’ll be mad if you jerk me around >:-(

Blind Date: You see that face? I mean BUSINESS.

You: Calm down lol, I was kidding.

You: Let’s meet at the Burger King next to the ramen place near campus?

Blind Date: Hehe, sounds good :-P

Blind Date: Ah, but don’t be too surprised when you meet me, okay?

Blind Date: I don’t want you fainting when you see my handsome face 8-)

You: Mhm, I’ll be sure not to faint.

Blind Date: I mean…a little fainting is fine…

You: Haha shut up. I’ll see you there. Looking forward to putting a face to the texts!

Blind Date: Hopefully my face doesn’t disappoint lol.

You: Yikes, mine either.

Blind Date: Yours won’t.

Blind Date: Haha, I’m sure you’ll look great. That’s what I meant.

Blind Date: Ew, all of that was hard to read. Forget I said anything hhhhhh.

You smiled fondly at your phone before sliding it into your bag. “You look kinda smitten,” said Sua from beside you.

You jumped and glanced at her as the rest of the class began packing up. She was grinning at you like a co-conspirator, brows low, knowing grin on her face. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve been texting someone named Blind Date during every class period for a week,” she said, cocking a brow. “I take it you guys hit it off?”

You felt yourself go warm. Not like with Jungkook the other day, but like something else. Something a little deeper than a physical reaction. Nonetheless, you cleared your throat and smiled at Sua. “He’s a good guy. I think we could be good friends.”

“Friends?” she asked with a laugh, flitting her hand as the two of you stood together. “Sounds boring. Get a smooch or two out of it or it’s a bust.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I don’t really know if he’d be interested in me that way.”

“What about you?” she asked, eyeing you. “Would you be interested?”

You stared at her for a long moment, eyes wide, and opened and shut your mouth a few times. “I…,” you began, then glanced at your feet. You followed her out into the hallway where students hurried by in a flash beside you. “I mean…”

Sua paused her walking to stare back at you, her teasing grin replaced with a genuine one. “Wait, do you actually like him-like him?” she asked, eyes alight.

You stiffened, scratching your arm, and sighed. “Jeez, I don’t know! Maybe,” you said, waving your hands. “Forget it, I’ve got another class soon.”

She laughed as you maneuvered around her through the hall, calling after you. “You’re cute when you’ve got a crush!”

You sat at a booth by yourself at Burger King, waiting for your not-date to show up. It had only been a few minutes and already your anxiety was starting to speak in your ear. He’s not showing up, it whispered, You’re an idiot. And maybe you were. Looking around the fast food joint, you saw more than a few couples, sitting side-by-side or gazing at each other over fried chicken. You didn’t envy them. Not that way. Just…maybe it was the human connection you missed more than anything. Last time you’d been in this situation, you were still deeply in love with Jeon Jungkook.

You were sixteen and you sat twiddling your thumbs on a suburban bench overlooking Seoul. Trees swayed in the summer breeze and carried with them the scent of young hopefulness, naivety in the form of dogwood blossoms. You watched the uneven cityscape before you as it resisted the pull of the wind, and far in the distance, slightly glittering in the sunlight, the Han River. Jungkook had said he’d be there at exactly two. It was ten past, and you were getting a little nervous. You’d confessed not a week prior during the last week of school, and to your shock Jungkook had been receptive. He hadn’t said anything bold like ‘I like you too’ or ‘let’s date’ but he had invited you out for some ice cream and you figured that was much the same thing for him.

Maybe he’s just being nice, you thought to yourself with a sigh. You’d spent a long time picking out the right outfit, getting your hair to lay just right. And still, you didn’t feel quite up to par with him. Girls were always confessing their love for him. Guys too. What made you any different than the dozens of other hopefuls? He probably won’t come…

“Y/N!” called a voice from the winding, hilly street.

You jumped and turned, and your heart swelled as you saw Jungkook running down the sidewalk toward you, grinning from ear to ear. And that was what did you in. That sincerity, that vigor, that enthusiasm…all for you. You stood up to meet him and chuckled as he caught his breath, patting his chest.

“Sorry, sorry,” he said, panting. “My mom started lecturing me, so I got tied up.” After a few moments regaining his composure, he finally looked at you properly and when he did, you noticed his cheeks going red hot, eyes round. “Oh, wow,” he said, glancing away with a jittery laugh. “S-Sorry, you…you look really nice.”

You felt a little faint. You’d spent months pining after this kid, pining after this purity you kept glimpsing in him, and now…

He was saying you looked nice.

It was almost enough to knock the breath out of you.

You smiled at your shoes and rubbed your neck. “Th-thank you,” you said.

He laughed, nervous once more, and gave your shoulder a shove. “Hey, don’t get all clammy on me, okay? Nothing’s weird between us. Just…two pals…on a date.”

You jumped and stared up at him with unbridled surprise. “Date?” you asked, shameless hope in your voice.

He laughed, eyes turning to crescents, and nodded. “What else would it be?” Of course. Of course, since it was Jungkook, the answer was just that simple, wasn’t it?

You swallowed hard and tried to manage your expression, but you couldn’t fight the smile teasing your lips. “Oh,” you said, letting out a breathy laugh.

He examined you for a moment, scanning you. You weren’t used to going out with friends, let alone dating. All of this was new and exhilarating to you. But you felt a sudden wave of shyness that you couldn’t fight off, and a slightly pleasant self-consciousness. You felt him looking at you, and it didn’t feel like he hated looking. You became very aware of your body, each limb, each finger. Still smiling a little, you laughed again, unsure of what else to do. These were uncharted waters, after all.

“Hm,” he said, bending down to meet your eyes. You blushed and leaned away a little, but he was blushing too and it made you feel better knowing perhaps he was just as nervous as you. “Lemme prove it.”

Your eyes went wide, but before you could say or do anything, Jungkook closed the distance between you, tipping his chin so that your lips met. His lips were warm and soft. They tasted like chapstick and banana milk. You didn’t move, not a single muscle, and perhaps this worried him because he was quick to lean away and stare down at you, fresh insecurity on display in his warm brown eyes.

“Sorry! Was that too sudden?” he asked, laughing and glancing away, down the quiet street. “Jeez, I got carried away, huh? Ha, I’m sorry.”

Before he could spiral, you took a timid step forward and pushed yourself onto your toes. Gently, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling yourself nearer to him. He jumped and looked at you with stunned eyes. But you didn’t give him a chance to think too much, because before long you were kissing him, head tilted to the side, eyes shut. Without much pause, his hands found your waist and stayed there, respectful, unsure.

And somehow, you’d summoned the courage to do it. To kiss him back.

Because he showed up, after all.

He didn’t leave you alone…

Fifteen minutes now and you were beginning to worry. You reasoned that at least there were worse places to be stood up. A nice steakhouse, for instance. At least here you weren’t the only solo diner. But nonetheless, the feeling of a deep gut-punch was only growing. Dread and disappointment mingled into a bitter cocktail in the pit of your stomach. Wouldn’t this just be…poetic? Getting stood up for your first date after years of fear and emotional isolation?

Wouldn’t that be exactly what would happen?

Thirty minutes. At first, you tried to tell yourself he was probably just running late from a class. After all, the walk from campus alone was around seven minutes. Maybe he’d gotten released late. Maybe he’d gotten held up with a professor or classmate. You stared at your Whopper with dead eyes now, watching the cold burger as all the heat drained from it. It was too late to save it now. And perhaps it had never been meant for you to eat anyway. Maybe it was your destiny to become a vegetarian or something.

Nonetheless, you sent a text.

Even though it felt pathetic.

You: Hey, uh…we still on for Burger King?

You: No rush, haha.

You: Just a little worried…

Was this revenge for ruining the first date? Some elaborate plot to get back at you? He seemed like a really sweet guy, but so had Jungkook after all. After several minutes without a reply, you began to accept the fact that you’d been thoroughly stood up. Your throat constricted, eyes going a little hazy, and resolved to wait a little longer. Just a little.

Forty-eight minutes. No reply and no date. By then, plenty of customers had come and gone through the front doors, none of them him. You couldn’t bring yourself to take even one bite of food, the money wasted, the time wasted too. How much time had you wasted, really? How much of your life had you spent watering dead plants?

When Jungkook told you he wanted to break up, you’d been in disbelief. The two of you were close, so close it almost hurt, and the sudden end felt like a slap in the face or a jolt to the heart. You’d fought him in his room that night, the sunset turning the ends of his hair gold, turning his eyes gold too. He had no right being so handsome at a moment like that. You asked for a reason and he said he didn’t want any strings going in to college. He wanted to be unaffiliated. But you couldn’t accept that. You couldn’t accept that the time you spent together had meant so little to him, that the relationship was a dead plant from the start.

I was only dating you because I felt bad for you! he’d shouted once he’d had enough. Ever wonder why I never told anyone about us?! You’d been stunned then, stunned silent. Your brain was failing to process his words. He’d never spoken that way to you before. How much time had you spent in love? How much time had he spent pitying you? I was your only friend, for God’s sake! What did you expect me to do?!

Perhaps you’d been right after all. Perhaps giving yourself to other people was too dangerous, too painful. Perhaps loving someone wasn’t worth it, perhaps it could never be completely reciprocal. Perhaps any relationship you had would be a waste of time. Perhaps all you were destined to do was water dead plants until finally, you decided it was enough.

One hour. You stood up from your seat, wiped beneath your eyes as the tears you’d been fighting finally crested over your bottom eyelid, and carried your tray to the garbage. You slid your trash into the bin and, sniffling, wandered out toward the exit. Customers avoided walking too close to you, likely noticing the tears that were now tracking stubbornly down your cheeks. You would have wiped them, had you had the energy to care.

But all you wanted was to go home and be alone.

Alone for a while.

You pushed your way outside, taking in the fresh spring day. No more rain, even though you would have welcomed it. It could have concealed your crying, your red nose and swelling eyes. You could have cowered beneath a bus stop and nobody would have noticed you. Nobody would have noticed.

Instead, the spring day was gorgeous, teasingly beautiful. The sun was beginning to set on the horizon, and people milled about through the street, smiling and chatting easily. Sniffling, you wiped your nose and joined them, walking down the sidewalk toward the subway entrance near campus.

You were overreacting. You didn’t even know this guy that well yet. He wasn’t a boyfriend, he wasn’t someone you’d given your whole heart to. He hadn’t betrayed you, because deep down you’d expected this. Maybe that’s what upset you so much. Being proven right.

You exited the crowd of people a block from the Burger King and walked with your head down toward the subway entrance. You were about to step on to the escalator when you heard someone call your name.

“Y/N!”

You turned slowly, eyes bleary from all the crying, and rubbed your tears away to see them clearly. Again, like he had some sort of sense for when you were most humiliated, Jungkook stepped toward you. His face was contorted in worry, thick brows knit, mouth agape as he stared down at you, scanning you.

You sniffled and nodded. “What?” you asked.

“What are you doing?” he asked softly, taking you by the crook of the arm and leading you toward a more sparsely populated alley beside the sidewalk. You didn’t fight. Didn’t have it in you. “Are you okay?” he asked, his own eyes watery as he looked down at you, forcing your head up as he held it between two big, warm hands.

You kept your gaze on the dirty ground. “Let me go,” you said, but it was weak.

“Y/N…,” he whispered, smoothing his thumb against your cheek. “Jesus.”

“What?” you asked, looking at him quick, fierce. “Are you pitying me?”

His eyes went wide and he shook his head. Looking at him now, he seemed pretty shaken himself. Why did the two of you keep bumping into each other like this? “No! No, that’s not it.”

“Then what?” you asked, shaking his hands off your face. “What is it, huh? Here to show off your money? Show me how good you’re doing while I’m working minimum wage? Huh? Do you like feeling superior?”

He swallowed hard, his expression revealing some sort of hurt you couldn’t name. “No! Please, it’s not that! Let me explain-,”

“No! You don’t have any right to ask me to listen to you!” you said, sobbing. You wiped your eyes with your forearm and shook your head. “Just leave me alone! Everyone!” you shouted.

Jungkook took your shoulders in his hands to keep you still and you tried a few times to shake yourself free, but to no avail. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

You kept crying, the ancient pain welling up from inside you like some age-old reserve finally erupting. Your body rocked with the force of your tears. “Isn’t it pathetic? The minute I start trying to reach out, I get stood up?” you asked with a manic laugh. “Doesn’t that just make you feel so good? Aren’t I pitiable?”

Jungkook’s own tears were pooling in his eyes and you could see them there, threatening to fall. “Please,” he said quietly.

You shook your head. “Isn’t this what you want? Someone to look down on? Someone to feel bad for?” you asked, face wet from the tears. “Can’t you just leave me alone?!” you shouted, loud enough to rouse the attention of a few people on the sidewalk behind Jungkook’s back.

Jungkook, without another word, sniffled sharply and pulled you flush against his chest. You struggled against his strong hold for a few moments, writhing, before finally submitting. Without even meaning to, you wrapped your arms around his torso and sobbed into his black shirt. He held you close, resting his cheek on your head. You could have sworn you felt a few tears hitting your shoulder.

But before you could get too comfortable in his embrace, you pushed yourself away and stared at him, bitter, angry, from several feet away. You looked at him like a feral thing, like an alleycat. And the way he watched you was different than it was that day by the bench. It was worried now, like a shadow had crossed over his face.

“I’m sorry-,” he began.

You shook your head and shoved past him. “Don’t talk to me. Ever,” you spat as you walked by, rejoining the stream of people on the sidewalk toward the subway entrance.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” asked Sua as the two of you left class.

Half a week had passed, and you were eager for more time to distance you from that unpleasant day. You’d received a slew of texts from your blind date, all of which had gone unanswered. They ranged from the typical I’m so sorry texts to more in-depth explanations. Apparently, he’d gotten nervous. Cold feet, he’d said. Nervous for what, you didn't know and you wouldn’t ask. You were meeting at a Burger King for God’s sake. What could he have been that nervous about?

You glanced at her and offered a tight smile. “Mhm. I’m good. Just…uh…gotta get to work later so I’m thinking about that,” you said, over-explaining. Of course, lying just wasn’t for you.

Sua sighed and hooked an arm around your elbow, leaning close to you as the two of you walked down the hallway. You edged away just slightly, and it seemed she noticed as she turned to you with wide eyes. You hated to admit it, but everything with that Nochu guy had made you wary of even Sua. They did know each other after all. Had this been one big setup from the start? Were the two conspiring to hurt you?

You shook your head and patted her hand with a smile. Of course not. Of course that was crazy. But…something about this whole thing had you feeling crazy. “Sorry,” you said quietly. “Just…met up with someone from my past the other day and it didn’t feel so good.”

She raised her brows. “What? You never mentioned anyone like that before…,” she said, her brows lowering. She looked a little hurt.

You swallowed hard. “Ah, well it’s no big deal,” you said, flitting a hand with a choppy laugh. “It’s in the past for a reason.”

She pouted. “You know you can talk to me, right?” she said, eyeing you.

And with those words, your chest constricted a little and a small pang of guilt clenched your stomach. You didn’t want to end up hurting her. She was sweet and she wanted to be close to you. But what could you do if you just weren’t ready for that? How could you tell her you may never be ready?

Instead, you turned to her and offered a smile. “I know.”

Blind Date: Y/N…

Blind Date: Please respond. Please.

Blind Date: I really really want to explain everything to you.

Blind Date: I know I really hurt you, but I want to explain.

Blind Date: Isn’t that selfish of me?

Blind Date: To hurt you and then ask you to listen to me?

Blind Date: I’m sorry.

Blind Date: I’m selfish.

You sighed as you watched your phone. The coffeeshop was quiet, fewer patrons now that the design students had finished their projects, and you felt safer looking at the onslaught of texts that just wouldn’t stop flooding your phone. You know you can talk to me, right? That’s what Sua said. She had reached out her hand to you.

And you’d pulled back.

You eyed your phone for a long few moments. Wasn’t it time to stop running away because you were scared of being hurt? Wasn’t it time to stop expecting someone to walk all the way across the tightrope to you and start walking to meet them in the middle instead?

Wasn’t it wrong to punish people for something someone else did?

You: Hey…

You: Sorry I haven’t responded. I just needed space I think.

Blind Date: Shit, I know. I’m so sorry.

Blind Date: You know I care about you though, right?

Blind Date: You know I wasn’t trying to hurt you on purpose, right?

You: I mean, we’ve only known each other a few weeks haha.

You: Honestly, I probably overreacted.

You: After everything that happened with that guy I told you about, I think I’m just a little too sensitive. And I took it out on you. And that was wrong.

Blind Date: No, no! Please don’t apologize. Jesus. It’s entirely my fault. All of it.

You: Haha it’s really not. I shouldn’t hold you and him to the same standards when you’re different people. That’s on me.

Blind Date: Can I see you?

You: Huh? So suddenly? I’m working…

Blind Date: The coffeeshop on campus?

You: Yeah…

You: Don’t come right now though!

You: I won’t be able to talk to you anyway.

Blind Date: I’ll wait. When do you get off?

You: Nine…

Blind Date: I’ll see you at nine.

You blushed, staring down at your screen. Since when was he so direct like this? And why did it make your heart race, just a little?

Sua was right. You definitely had a crush…

You watched the front doors as you began cleaning up the coffeeshop. Closing time was coming soon, and with five minutes until nine you were beginning to feel that festering fear that you’d be stood up again. But as that voice returned to your mind, you were quick to quiet it. You wanted to believe in people again. You couldn’t live your life all alone.

So you swept beneath tables and propped chairs atop them. You cleaned the windows. You hummed a pop song to yourself, trying to keep your mind busy. When you glanced outside, you noticed the spring showers had returned and the rain was falling in bullets from the dark sky. With a sigh, you settled down on one of the recliners by the window, watching cars and buses and people speed by. You wondered which one would come inside despite the sign now reading ‘closed’. You wondered who this person was.

Before you realized it, you were dozing off, struggling to keep your eyes open as you reclined against the comfortable cushions. Your breathing became more rhythmic, deeper in your chest with each inhale, and you snuggled into the back of the recliner with a heavy sigh.

And that’s when you heard it. The distinctive ting of the bell dangling over the front door. Your eyes opened wide and you saw his reflection in the mirror beside you. Tall, dressed in dark clothes, hoodie up over his head and an umbrella in his hand, trailing droplets of rainwater onto the wood floor. You wanted to greet him right away, to get a proper look at him, but with your heart racing the way it was you couldn’t find the courage. It was enough for you just to respond to his texts. And now he was here, corporeal, right behind you.

You shut your eyes tight and feigned sleep.

“Y/N?” he called, and somehow you recognized his voice.

No way.

It couldn’t be…

You kept your eyes shut and curled your knees closer to your chest. Slowly, you heard him mill around the shop before pausing beside your recliner. His footsteps got closer, rounding the side of the chair to stand right in front of you. And, quietly, he laughed. And you were certain now. You knew exactly who he was.

You felt a warm, big hand press against the side of your head, smoothing your hair down, and heard a fond sigh. “Jeez,” he mumbled. You felt him crouch down beside your feet and his arm dropped to rest on the arm of the recliner. He gently rocked the chair back and forth for a moment, humming. “Don’t hate me too much, okay?” he asked in a whisper.

And, without another moment’s hesitation, you opened your eyes and stared right down at him. “Jungkook…?” you asked, scanning his face.

His eyes were round with shock and his whole person was wet. He gazed up at you from where he crouched on the floor and, mouth agape, said nothing. Wordlessly, you reached a hand out and touched his cheek with the pad of your index finger. Soaking wet. You sighed and pushed to your feet. Jungkook stumbled a little to accommodate you as you slipped past him to the counter. You rifled through the cabinets before producing a towel. By then, he’d followed you to the counter and was waiting on the other side. Sighing, you waved a hand, signaling for him to join you behind the register. He jumped and followed your silent command, and suddenly you were staring at his broad chest up close.

You swallowed your nerves and draped the towel atop his head. “Dry off,” you said, hopping up to sit on the counter. The lights in the shop were low, and the music still bumped lowly through the stereo. It might have been romantic, if it was anyone else. “Then we can talk.”

He nodded and fluffed the towel through his hair, obscuring his face from view for a few peaceful seconds. “I…I know I have a lot to explain.”

“Yeah,” you said.

He peeked out from behind the towel with one eye, watching you. “Are you mad?”

“Fuming, actually.”

He nodded and let the towel drop to his shoulders. “I expected that,” he said with a sigh. He came to stand in front of your knees, looking right at you with enough sincerity to knock the breath from your lungs. Just like that first date. “I don’t know where to start.”

“So you know Sua?” you asked, letting your heels bounce against the counter’s cabinets.

“Ah, uh, yeah,” he said, rubbing his hands together. “We’re in the same major, so…”

“And you transferred here?”

“Yeah,” he said, meeting your eyes. “It was…no good out in Busan. I missed home too much.”

You nodded, watching your thighs on the counter. “Figures.”

He chuckled wryly. “You know me too well.”

“Thought I did.”

Carefully, he took a single step forward and you jumped, meeting his eyes like a frightened prey. “I never meant for you to carry all that with you for so long,” he said, brows knit and eyes hazy like he may cry. “I didn’t expect you to be so hurt.”

“That’s stupid,” you said. “You can’t tell someone you were only with them out of pity and expect them not to be hurt.”

“I know, I just…Jesus, I’m just stupid,” he said, raking his fingers through his hair. “Since I was moving away, I didn’t want you to waste your time waiting for me to come back, so I wanted to give you a clean break. Since I knew you wouldn’t wanna break up just because of distance.”

You stiffened. “You…what?”

“I didn’t mean it,” he said. “Any of it.”

You felt like you’d been hit right in the diaphragm, like when you play dodgeball and someone throws a ball at your chest. You sat up straighter and stared at him, watching him carefully. “You lied?”

He nodded. “Yeah,” he said, meeting your eyes seriously. It really looked like he might have cried. “I didn’t think it was fair to keep you from meeting new people and making new connections.”

“Then why didn’t you tell anyone we were dating?” you asked, brow low, scanning him for any signs of insincerity.

His eyes went wide. “I…I told you before, my high school friends…they weren’t so great,” he said, shaking his head. “I meant it when I was texting you about all that. How t’s hard for me to find good people.”

“And you didn’t show up to Burger King last time because…?”

He sniffled. “I meant what I said about that too. I was…really nervous. I was scared you’d be disappointed when you found out it was me.”

You sighed. “Why weren’t you just honest with me from the start?” you asked, all animosity draining from your voice as you saw him wiping his red, swelling eyes. “Back in high school. Why didn’t you just tell me all of it then?”

He sniffed and looked away. “I was scared you’d think less of me if you knew I was so insecure. And I didn’t want you to wait for me in college, not when you could’ve been out making new friends.”

“Well, the opposite happened actually,” you said with a dry laugh. “I got really worried that any friends I made would be doing it out of pity.”

Jungkook stiffened. “You…you did?”

You nodded. “Yeah…”

“Shit,” he breathed out, gripping his forehead with two hands. “I’m so stupid!”

Distantly, the sound of the rain picked up outside. You nodded. “Yeah.”

“I’m so sorry,” he said, looking at you once more, startling you with his sincerity. “I messed up so bad. I messed up everything.”

You blinked at him, standing nearly at eye-level, and slowly reached out to wipe beneath his eyes with your fingertips. “Well, you were right about one thing. I wouldn’t have accepted it had you not said what you said.”

He furrowed his brow and leaned into your touch. “I’m sorry.”

“I forgive you,” you said.

He swallowed hard and you watched his Adam’s apple bob. “Really?”

“Well, yeah,” you said with a shrug. “Now that I know everything, it’s hard to be mad at you for being a jerk when you were really just being an idiot.”

He stared at you, inching forward so he rested just between your knees. “I’m so sorry,” he said again.

“Yeah, I know,” you said, letting out half a chuckle as you let your hands drop to his shoulders, giving them a pat.

“Really,” he said, nodding once as he stared right into your eyes.

“Jungkook, it’s-,”

Before you could finish, he had closed the distance between you, one hand grasping your jaw as he pressed a kiss to your lips. You jumped back, eyes wide, and stared at him in shock. He too looked shocked, like he hadn’t meant to do it at all. He shook his head, eyebrows knit, stuttering out syllables that didn’t add up to anything.

“I-I-you-I mean-,” he sputtered, irises shaking. You noticed no small margin of fear in his eyes, like he was terrified he’d messed things up again.

I didn’t want to make any more mistakes, you know?

The words he’d trusted you with through the screen, his sincere thoughts. He really regretted it a lot, didn’t he? Your expression softened as he continued struggling to find words, and, without even really meaning to, you wrapped your fingers around his neck. He didn’t seem to notice, or he was too spooked to comment on it, but you slowly pulled him closer. Just like that day in high school, just like it was when you’d first entered hopefully into this fateful relationship, you leaned in and pressed your lips against his, shutting your eyes. Stunned, he was completely still for a moment before eventually his hands moved to your hips, then slid along your sides, then hooked around your lower back. You hadn’t intended it, but the kiss was getting steamier with each passing moment. You felt his hot breath on your skin as he pulled back to adjust his position before crashing into you again.

As the fever settled down, Jungkook was the first to pull away, but only by a faction so he could speak. “I love you,” he whispered.

You stared wide-eyed at him, only inches away from you, eyes heavy-lidded and forehead resting just barely against yours. “O-Okay,” you said. It was all you could manage.

He chuckled once, still embracing you as he stood between your legs. “That’s it?”

“You expect me to say it back?” you asked.

He smiled, staring down at you. “I guess not.”

“You’re gonna have to give me some time,” you said with a nod.

He nodded too, shutting his eyes as he held you close. Slowly, he moved to rest his forehead against your shoulder, resting against the crook of your neck. “I understand.”

“Like…a lot of time probably.”

“I know.”

You let out a shaky exhale and only then did you realize your hands were shaking. As silly as it seemed, this reunion was pretty jarring to your system. The foundation on which you’d rebuilt your sense of self had broken down beneath your feet, leaving you to stand among the rubble once again. Just like back then. Everything you thought you understood had been proven wrong.

But nonetheless, you smoothed your palms against his back and rubbed gently. Not to comfort him, but to comfort yourself. To let yourself know that, even though it was scary, it was okay to trust people sometimes. Self preservation shouldn’t come at the sacrifice of human connection. And even though you knew the road ahead was going to be long and that trusting Jungkook again would take a long time and a lot of work on his end, you were ready to try.

So, as the two of you left the shop under one umbrella, you drafted a text.

You: Sua, I have SO MUCH to tell you.

[purplesurveys]

1114

survey by dishwallafied

WHO was the last person...

you spoke to, in person? I think it was my sister, like earlier at 1 AM. She was the last person apart from me to head upstairs for bed.

you called? I tried calling our internet service provider’s hotline to inquire about our lost connection last weekend, but all I got was a useless automated message saying they’re on top of all concerns and will be addressing ours soon, which did not make any fucking sense because I didn’t get to report my issue anyway. Their social media was virtually useless too, and my dad had to physically go to one of their offices last Monday to settle the issue.

that called you? My phone’s not near me at the moment (omg a rarity) but it was the delivery person for Reggy’s croissants. GPS has always hated our street and has never been able to identify it, so whenever anyone in the family makes a purchase for delivery we’re bound to get a call or two from the rider assigned to our order to ask for directions.

you texted? It was the same delivery guy. He had tried to call me but I was in a meeting that I couldn’t get out of, so I explained to him I could only text. I also gave him a Waze link containing the exact positioning of our house so that he could set it up on his phone.

that sent you a text? I think it was just my mobile services provider sending out some random promotional text. Idk, I never open those.

you kissed? Gabie.

that kissed you? Also her. I don’t plan on kissing anyone new any time soon.

you yelled at? I haven’t recently been in a situation where I’ve had to yell at anyone...I do slightly raise my voice a lot on video call meetings just so I’m sure everybody on the call can hear me. That’s the closest I’ve got.

that yelled at you? My mom, when she was being a real drama queen about MY money a couple of weeks ago.

you watched a movie with? I watched it by myself, but I remember calling my ex for comfort because the movie was a little scary and creepy. I also remember how bothered she sounded that I was calling her, as if I was a huge burden, so...there’s that. Y’all do me a favor and be with someone who gets delighted when you call instead of making you feel like you’re a waste of space okie?? Good

you ate dinner with? My family. My dad laksa for dinner, which was perfect because I had been watching 2 Days 1 Night yesterday and the cast members kept eating ramyeon, which made me develop a serious craving for noodles all day.

you were in a photo with? I think it had been a family selfie. My family and I were about to leave the accommodation we stayed at in Tagaytay, and my mom wanted a final photo in the living room before we stepped out.

you took a photo of? My employer sent out heart-shaped red velvet cakes for all of us for Valentine’s Day, so I took a photo of it with Cooper in the background to share to the work group chat. I definitely did not expect any goodie sendout considering I never viewed Valentine’s as a special day even when I was still in a relationship, so it was a nice surprise to receive. 

you went to a concert with? Oh my Paramore show was a solo date. Gabie did come to the arena with me and I also drove Denise, Erycka, and Leigh, but the three of them settled for a different section somewhere farther out given how they already did VIP seats for Paramore’s previous concert in 2013. It was my turn to have a front-row seat and since I didn’t know anyone who was as big of a fan as I was or was willing to shell out ₱7,000 for a VIP seat, I went by myself.

you lied to? I think it was Bea, my manager? She scheduled a quick call last Tuesday just to do a check-in with me, and she was asking how I was. Of course I had to tell her I was doing fine, which is never completely true for a lot of people, I think. I didn’t want her to ask me to open up anyway, so saying I was fine was the easy way to go.

you invited somewhere? I recently saw a music clip of a certain song that’s played a lot in bars, so I tagged my entire college barkada telling them we should go back to TK soon, at least when the lockdown and the pandemic subside considerably.

you dated? Gabie.

you dumped? It worked the other way around.

you rejected? I mean, I guess I technically rejected the girl Mik told me was interested in me. We never met since Mik refused to tell me her name or show a photo, but I informed him I wasn’t planning on talking with anyone soon so she can stop thinking I’m available.

you held hands with? Angela.

you hugged? Andi, before they got out of my car since we were parting ways for the evening.

you let cry on your shoulder? This hasn’t happened in a very long time. Most likely Gabie, but this would’ve been around at the start of 2020 when we could still see each other regularly.

that let you cry on their shoulder? Figuratively, Angela and Andi.

you bought a gift for? I got a weekend accommodation for my family, but it was really meant for my dad for his 50th birthday.

you wished a happy birthday? Hans.

that disappointed you? I was more annoyed than disappointed, but it was some random Fil-Am who was being ignorant at the Subtle Filipino Traits Facebook group. That community gives me a huge migraine most days because of Fil-Ams who continue to romanticize the ~beauty~ of the country whilst completely ignoring the socio-political trainwreck here, but the group is kind of the place to be for Filipinos so I can’t see myself leaving it either.

that stayed over at your place? They didn’t stay over for the night but Angela and Hans did a surprise visit to my house a few days after Christmas.

that let you crash at their place? Gab. I used to always crash at her place when I’ve had a few drinks.

that made you angry? Idk man, can I give Mark Zuckerberg as an answer? HAHAHA I went on Facebook first thing today and the first thing I saw was a Facebook Memory, and it was a photo of me and Gabie at Athenna’s birthday party four years ago. I got irritated at first until I remembered that we were both tagged in the post, which means it would most likely show up on her feed as a Memory as well. Just to humor my petty ass, I kinda hope the memory would make her sad, wherever she is; but otherwise seeing the Memory pop up didn’t make me sad or bothered anymore so that’s a win for meee.

that complimented you? Leah, my employer’s CEO. She did a check-in call with me recently to get to know me better, so one of the first things she asked was a list of the clients I handle. I happen to be in the team that works with the company’s more big-league clients, so once she heard the brands she told me I must be a good enough worker to be assigned those clients. It meant a lot and it still does.

whom you complimented? Bea. I just let her know how helpful she’s been with me considering I’m a fresh graduate on her first job in a work-from-home setup in the middle of a global pandemic.

you thanked? A supplier I’m currently in contact with, for work.

that thanked you? The said supplier thanked me back.

you saw, in person? My sister.

that bought you something? Dad bought siopaos for us yesterday.

that made you laugh? The cast of 2 Days 1 Night, from when I was watching the show last night.

that you said you loved? I don’t remember. I think it was Kate since she helped me out with a favor.

that said they loved you? Hannah.

you flipped off? I haven’t whipped out the finger in a while, come to think of it.

you made a silly face at? Not a person, but Cooper.

that drove you somewhere? Dad was the driver for our Tagaytay trip.

WHAT was the last thing you...

touched? Aside from my keyboard, my vape pen.

threw? Cooper’s bowling pin squeak toy. He’s gotten a lot better at catching things with his mouth, so I’ve been throwing it a lot at him to continue training him.

ate? A caramel croissant.

drank? Coffee.

found stuck in your teeth? Haven’t had this happen to me in a while.

cooked? I’ve never tried cooking anything.

baked? Idk, maybe cookies 873984732842 years ago.

threw away/tossed out? The packet for the sauce that came with the siopao my dad bought.

bought? I made a purchase for 20 bags for a work thing, but only because I was assigned to do the whole correspondence with the supplier. My manager was the one who sent over the payment when the purchase was confirmed.

sold? I don’t think I’ve ever tried selling anything before.

took a photo of? Cooper hahaha. I had been dancing to a song and he was staring at me.

were frustrated with? Our internet provider when they cut off the connection last weekend.

broke? I’m not sure if I can say I broke it, but the adaptor for my phone charger finally gave up on me the other day. I’ve taken to borrowing my sister’s for now, since she says she “doesn’t use it a lot” anyway.

spilled? Some drops of coffee spilled out of my mug when I dumped several ice cubes in it.

tripped on? Kimi. He follows me evvvvvvverywhere, so I bump into him at least once a day.

kicked? I’m not really sure.

put batteries in? Haven’t had to use batteries in a while, either.

turned on? The Bluetooth on my laptop.

turned off? The electric fan last night since I found it loud.

wrote? Other than my answers to this survey, I’ve also been talking with Angela this morning over Messenger.

wrote on? Other than my phone/laptop, my journal.

cleaned? My glasses.

stuck up your nose??? My finger when a nostril itched recently.

WHERE was the last place you...

dined at? Ramen Nagi.

ordered something to go? I don’t do takeout deliveries, but the last thing I got for delivery was banh mi and iced Vietnamese coffee last week.

bought something? Facebook Marketplace.

cried? In the living room. I came across that viral video of a guy proposing to her girlfriend at a Taylor Swift concert, when he knelt at the exact moment Taylor sang “He knelt to the ground and pulled out a ring” from Love Story. It was such a sweet, classy, non-cringey public proposal and I allowed myself to be swept away by the cheesiness of it all, haha.

felt uncomfortable? Dining room table. I was sharing a story to my parents about work involving a guy and my mom asked me if I had a crush on him. My dad kind of snorted and said, “Her? Crush on a guy?” which told me he knew something was up re: my preferences lmao. They’ve never heard anything from me yet, so that made me feel awkward and I most especially didn’t want my mom to catch on to the question and suddenly put me in the hot seat.

drove to? Other than back home, I last drove to UPTC.

had an appointment at? Google Meet, hahaha.

went on vacation? Tagaytay. 

hung out with a friend? Andi and I went to a Korean barbecue place at UPTC (again), but we also drove to UP after just to revisit the good old days of being in campus.

bought clothes? H&M in Feliz.

spent more than you had planned? Ramen Nagi. I had a couple of add-ons in my meal and I didn’t know their service fee was going to be quite high, so my final bill ended up being slightly more than the budget I planned out for that day.

saw a band/singer/musician perform? Late 2019. My ex and I stopped by a jazz bar and there was a live band playing.

WHEN was the last time you...

told someone 'I love you'? Last Friday.

cried? Last night.

laughed? This morning. Cooper was being silly around me and my dad, as always. This time he was unusually behaved when we let him out, and the bizarreness of it all made us so unsettled we ended up laughing.

left your home? Last Sunday. I might go out later, too.

drank a soda/pop? Early last year. There was Coke being served at an org event, and since I felt thirsty and there was no drinking fountain around I just said fuck it and drank the soda.

made your bed? Last night when I left my room to settle in the living room.

visited a doctor? May last year.

went to the emergency room? Other than when 23 years ago when I was born, I’ve never been brought to the emergency room.

kissed someone? September.

hugged someone? Mid-January.

prayed? Six years ago. Or maybe five; I can’t really tell when exactly I made it a point to stop for good.

worked out? Around a week ago. I’m thinking if I should keep at it or if I should just stop, seeing as I’m not willing to give up my favorite foods anyway lmao.

made a phone call? I tried to make a phone call to our internet provider last weekend.

answered a phone? The other evening when the landline rang.

had an argument? Two weeks ago, instigated by my mom as usual.

played a video game? I think 2-3 weeks ago when I got in the mood to play the Switch.

played a card game? Safe to say at least a couple of years ago.

played a board game? November when we suffered a power outage for two days and had nothing to do at home.

rode a bike? LOOOOOOOOL March. The lockdown had just started and I made plans to learn how to ride a bike, but those plans fell through as soon as they began.

fell on your butt? This doesn’t happen often.

took a shower? Last night.

took a bubble bath? I can’t even remember anymore; this is a rare occasion for me.

watched TV? I last watched a TV show in general last night, but I last watched something on an actual television last Sunday when my family watched a Sunday mass livestream.

saw a movie at a theater? December 2019.

ate fast food? I got Bonchon for my family last December, if I remember correctly. My dad had done a huge favor for me and I asked what I can do to repay it, and he said to just buy dinner for the 5 of us for that evening.

ordered a pizza? Last month.

made someone laugh? I’m not sure if I had made her laugh in real life, but Angela and I had a humorous conversation over chat earlier this morning.

sang? Few minutes ago.

played a musical instrument? Absolutely no clue.

read a book? Couple of weeks ago when my employer sent me this book on PR that I was asked to read in preparation for my meeting with Leah.

drove a car? Last Sunday.

went swimming? Think it may have been my Nasugbu trip with Angela, Sofie, and Gabie back in August 2019.

got a sunburn? Idk man, when I was 8? I stopped getting sunburns as I got older.

went to church or temple? The last Sunday in March before the lockdown started.

went shopping? I did my final around of Christmas shopping last month for friends I still had to give presents to.

drank alcohol? Sometime last month after my work shift, following back-to-back meetings with my least favorite client.

smoked a cigarette? Feb last year, I think. I don’t buy cigarettes of my own and I’m also a lot more watchful of my cigarette usage, so I haven’t been able to smoke since I haven’t been around a crowd who does. I mostly vape.

threw up? I last felt like throwing up back in May, but I haven’t actualy thrown up in at least a couple of years now.

had a headache? Just this Thursday.

had a cold? No idea.

had the flu? It wasn’t strictly the flu, but I was last sick in May.

had your hair cut? March last year.

dyed your hair? Never done it.

laughed so hard that you cried? It’s happened in at least the past couple of weeks, I’m sure.

[obibabykenobi]

Can I have one for Anakin Skywalker? She’s one of his Padawans and she is a bit rebellious. She sneaks out while everyone was asleep and takes off with some strangers. She was offered tickets to go see her favorite band, “The Offspring” in concert. But she was on probation and was forbidden to go. So she makes up an excuse that she wanted to sleepover at her friends. But really, they sneak off to the concert. Anakin and the Jedi council found out anyway because she posted it to her story on

that is funnyyy!! i love this idea. ive never seen or read an AU like this so I’ll try to the best of my abilities! i kind of changed a few things.

✍︎︎✍︎︎✍︎︎✍︎︎✍︎︎✍︎︎✍︎︎✍︎︎✍︎︎✍︎︎✍︎︎✍︎︎✍︎︎✍︎︎✍︎︎✍︎︎✍︎︎✍︎︎✍︎︎✍︎︎✍︎︎✍︎︎✍︎︎✍︎︎✍︎︎✍︎︎✍︎︎✍︎︎

————rebel

𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗 𝚜𝚔𝚢𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚎𝚛 𝚡 𝚙𝚊𝚍𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚗!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: reader sneaks out but gets caught

𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚜: profanity, characters in this oneshot are still jedi’s and stay in the temple, but it’s in modern times and instead of robes they wear modern clothing. (ex: master’s wear suits and button ups, padawans wear what looks similar to a school uniform) however Anakin is gonna keep his long hair ;)

You were out in the city, sent out by your Master to pick up groceries. You were sporting your Temple uniform, a navy blue blazer with a crest of two lightsabers in an x, one being blue and one being green. Your shorts were also navy blue with blue and green plaid decorated on it, and you always voiced your thoughts on how ugly they were whenever you had the chance. You wore a white button up underneath your blazer and had knee high navy blue socks on, your black shiny shoes were reflecting in the light. You strolled down the many aisles of the local farmers market, picking up fruits and vegetables and placing them in your basket as you went. You actually liked this task, cause you were out without your master and this was the only time you could go outside, being on “temple arrest” after your most recent shenanigan. Once you were done shopping, you paid in credits and slowly walked back to the temple, trying to make this walk leisurely and remember your moments not cooped up.

You felt multiple people near you, looking at you. You knew they wouldn’t do anything, everyone knows the uniform you’re wearing means you’re from the Jedi Temple and shouldn’t be messed with. However, these people were ballsy enough to call you over. You sighed, you usually didn’t give people the time of day in the city, but you really wanted to be in the fresh air as long as possible, so you turned around and walked to the strangers.

“What can I do for you...” you trailed off, looking the strangers up and down. They were definitely on the rough side, probably trying to pick a fight with you. “Fine people.”

They smirked and looked at each other, and oh how you loved the thought of getting in a fight with them. “Do Jedi listen to music?”

Well that shocked you. Why were they interested in that? Unless it was a new tactic to distract you. You raised a brow at the stranger and folded your arms. “Yes, we’re not closed off creatures who live under rocks.”

The one in the middle of all the strangers, you’re assuming him being the leader, reached his hand into his jacket. You thought he was about to pull out a blaster, but you were faster than them and immediately whipped out your saber, bright blue whizzing in the still air.

“Woah! Chill, doll. I was just gonna see if you wanted one.”

You watched cautiously as what seemed to be a ticket, with the words “The Offspring” printed on them, were held in between his fingers. You knew they were having a concert tonight, however your Master didn’t allow you to go and you didn’t have your own credits to pay for a ticket, you only get some from the Temple when they send you out on tasks.

“And why are you offering me a ticket? What do you want in return?”

Still having your lightsaber up, the leader raised his hands in defense at your statement. “We,” he refers to the strangers around him. “Had an extra, we couldn’t let it go to waste. We figured you looked like you listened to them. Do you not? If not, we’ll just give it-”

“No!...I’ll take it. Do you want anything in return? I-I don’t have much...but I’d really like to go.”

He took that into consideration and nodded. “Well, first, please put your saber away.” And you slowly lowered it, turning it off but still holding it tight in your hand. “Second, just come with us. You don’t gotta pay us. Meet us here at six P.M., Yea?” You nodded slowly and watched as he cautiously handed it over you to you. You snatched it out of his hand and quickly walked away. You could still feel their eyes boring into you.

——————————————

“No! No way. You are not going.” Your master told you sternly.

“And why not?” You countered back.

“You got this ticket from strangers! It could be fake for all you know. People just don’t go around handing out free tickets.”

You groaned and collapsed on the couch that was in his quarters. “I didn’t sense that they were lying, they’re legitimate!”

“You’re still a Padawan, if I’m not correct your senses aren’t as heightened as mine.”

You rolled your eyes and kicked your legs up on the coffee table in front of the couch. “Yea well my fighting skills are more heightened then theirs, so if they DID lie to me I’ll kick their ass.”

He walked over towards you and removed your legs from the coffee table. “Not everything leads into a fight, young one.”

He was wearing a white button up with his sleeves pulled up to his elbows, and his shirt was tucked into his black clean ironed slacks. You had to admit, he looked really good when he was irritated or angry. Right now, he was just a tad bit irritated. He sat down beside you and you noticed a few tiny grey hairs. You gasped playfully and he looked over at you with his eyes brows furrowed.

“Master, you’re greying! Oh my, did I do that?” You snickered while he touched his hair.

“Would you quit that?” He asked irritatingly.

As much as you irritated him, he loved having you around because you made him feel young again, and he loved getting into little fights with you.

“You’re not going to the concert, understand?”

He gave you a very stern look which created a swirl in your stomach.

“Yes, Master.” You reluctantly replied. Oh, but if only he could see the crossed fingers behind your back. You were definitely going to that concert.

——————————————

Somehow, you successfully snuck out of the temple without raising suspicion from others. It was easier than you thought. Your master was in a briefing, so you quickly changed into your civilian clothes and made a run for it. If a Jedi asked you where you were going in civilian clothes, you replied you were going to take some younglings to the park. Even if they could sense you were lying, they didn’t even bother to try to change your mind because your famous for rebelling against the rules.

So, here you are now, at the concert with the group of strangers. It was a blast, the music ringing through your ears and the bass thumping throughout your body. Your throat was scratchy and coarse from screaming the lyrics at the top of your lungs. You whipped out your phone and recorded you and one of the strangers, who quickly turned into your best friend, singing to the current song playing. You uploaded it to your Snapchat story without even thinking about who could see it. All you could focus on was how happy you are.

——————————————

As soon as you got back to the temple, you could feel your masters anger seething throughout the large building. Your heart rate quickened and you stopped in your tracks. Immediately taking out your phone, you looked at the people who viewed your story and sure enough, you were in deep shit. In white lettering, you saw the name “Master Gaywalker”. The name you gave him on this app still makes you laugh.

“Come to the briefing room now.”

Anakin’s voice rippled through the force with anger dripping with it. You didn’t even try to run, not wanting to feel his wrath. You obediently walked your shaky legs to the briefing room.

——————————————

Your ass? Chewed. Chewed out by the whole council. And now Anakin was walking you back to your quarters while still chewing you out.

“I told you to not go, and what did you do? You completely disobeyed me!” You were walking farther ahead of him to try to get away from his nagging, but to no avail. You saw your quarters in view and made headway.

“Seriously, what does a Master have to do to keep his Padawan in check! Do I have to put baby monitors in your room?”

You finally reached your door and quickly stepped in. He quickly followed you inside and still wouldn’t shut his mouth.

“Okay, I get it. I’m sorry! I have no excuse, just please for the love of maker stop nagging and DON’T put baby monitors in my room.” You folded your arms and kept his stare across the room.

“Sorry doesn’t cut it. You lied to me, disobeyed me and embarrassed me in front of the council-“

As he kept rambling on and on about how much he’s disappointed in you, you couldn’t help but stare at his peachy lips. He kept licking them, making you hungrier for them to be on yours. Finally, not even thinking, you walked right up to him, grabbed his face and kissed him.

You broke the kiss, and took a step back. His eyes were wide, cheeks red and he couldn’t even form a sentence now. You smirked, and took seat on your bed.

“Who knew that kissing you would make you shut up?”

[connordavidscamera]

Make it to Christmas | Connor Brashier

A/n: I really love this one, guys. It’s one of my favorite.

Summary: We find out the real story behind Alessia’s song.

Word count: 3.3k

***

Italics - Connor’s POV

Regular - y/n’s POV

Bold italics - lyrics

TWO YEARS  AND THREE MONTHS AGO

Alessia’s running her fingers through my hair, while Liv rubs my calves, both of them trying to get me to stop crying, but it’s unfortunately not working very well. “What do you mean it’s over? Y/n, did he say that?”

“No. But we’ve barely talked since we left tour. He doesn’t return my calls, he sends one or two word responses to my texts. It’s over, guys. I know it is. He’s getting more and more distant by the day and not just physically. I mean, we’re literally on separate sides of the world right now. But he’s emotionally distant.” I sniffle. “God, if we can just make it through the holidays. Or at least to Chrstimas. I don’t care about New Years.”

“What are you talking about? Why do you need to make it to then?”

“Because I can’t face telling my dad,” I take in a shuddery breath. “I can’t handle telling him why Connor’s not there. And I don’t - I don’t need my mom telling me that she knew I was falling too fast. I don’t need it, Les.”

“Okay, okay. Shh…” She rubs my shoulder.

“Come on, sweetie. He loves you. Call him.”

I shake my head. He doesn’t. We’ve been together barely six months, but neither of us have uttered those words yet. “I don’t think this is something we can talk through. The distance, physically,” I wipe at my eyes, “emotionally. It’s too much. The feelings have grown cold. It’s not it anymore.”

“For him or for you?” Liv asks and that hits me hard. 

“I don’t know.”

“Then maybe… just maybe. You need to ask him. You can’t put it off, y/n. Say you make it to the holidays, what happens then? You’re going to be miserable. It’ll be worse than having to explain why he’s not there physically if he’s not there emotionally, like you say.”

“Guys, I’m scared. I really care about him.”

“I know you do,” Alessia says and I sit up. “We care about him too. But we care about your feelings more. You can’t be in a relationship if your heart’s not in it. And based off this?” she gestures to me - I know I probably look a mess, tear stains on my cheeks, eyes red and puffy. “I can for sure say that, at the very least, your heart is still in it. You guys just need to try a little harder.”

“I guess I could try to try.”

“I think you should. Your relationship is too special to just fizzle out after just six months.” Five months and twenty-two days, I think, but don’t say because I think that hurts more. Knowing it hasn’t even been half a year and he’s sick of me. 

---

“Brashier, we’re going out for drinks, you coming?” Brian slid the curtain to my bunk out of the way, letting the dim light filter through.

“Um, no. I was gonna call y/n. Haven’t talked in a while.”

“What’s a while? This morning?Come on. She’ll understand. It’s one of our last nights in Asia, let’s party.”

“Brian, I really -”

“Whipped.”

“What?” I say, honestly a little aggravated with Brian. It’s clear he’s already had a drink or two, his face already turning red from the alcohol

“You’re so whipped. Fine, call your girlfriend. Text us if you change your mind.”

I roll my eyes and remove my finger from hovering over my girl’s photo. “Give me five minutes,” I cave. I’ll call her in the morning, I tell myself. But I don’t call her in the morning. Or in the afternoon. I don’t call her for three more days and she doesn’t seem too mad at me. In fact, she seems happy to be talking to me. Which means that maybe I haven’t messed up too bad. I’m grateful.

“How’s tour going, baby?” I ask her over the phone. I tried to FaceTime her but she claimed that the girls were sleeping and she didn’t want to wake them. So she’s whispering to me in the common area while I lay in bed, away from the loud guys just outside the door. 

“Good. The crowds are amazing. Singing every word with Les. That girl knows how to work a room.”

“So do you,” I say with a smirk and I wish I could see her blush. She always blushes when I say something like that. But she doesn’t say anything about my not so subtle compliment.

“How’s everything there? The guys are loud.”

I sigh, “Yeah, I’m sorry about that. They’re still on their post concert high.”

“Why aren’t you with them?”

“Because I’m talking to you,” I state as if it’s the most obvious answer in the world.

“Go hang out, Connor. It’s okay. I’ll still be here when you’re not busy.”

“But I’m not,” I insist. “I want to talk to you. Come on, baby. Tell me about your day. I want to know everything.”

“No, go. The month is gonna og by so fast, you’re gonna wish you had spent these nights with them. It’s okay.”

“Yeah, but that just means I get closer to seeing you.”

“Mhm… I’ll talk to you later.”

“Okay… I guess I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Yep. Bye.” She hangs up and I’m left dumbfounded. There’s something wrong and I wish she would tell me what.

---

A MONTH LATER

“Did you see Connor’s story?” I hear Liv ask Alessia when I’m just opening my eyes from my less than decent sleep. 

“Yeah, he’s on his way home.”

“Does y/n know?”

“I think so.”

“Does she know he’s coming to the -”

“Shh… no. She doesn’t.”

“What about the s-?”

“Absolutely not. And could you keep it down? I don’t want her to hear. I don’t want her upset.”

“She hasn’t said anything about him in a while. You don’t think they’ve broken up, do you?”

“No,” I assure she shakes her head, “She would have told us. We just have to make it to Friday. All will be fixed then.”

“Are you sure?”

“God, I hope so.”

“Y/n. I think I left my earphones on the bus.” Alessia says when we get in the dressing room at the arena.

“You want me to get them?” I ask, putting her makeup bag down on the vanity they have set up. 

“Can you please? I have to go soundcheck. I don’t want to be late.”

“Sure. Need anything else?”

“No. Thank you though. And don’t rush.”

“Alright, I’ll be back.”

“Surprise!” I say from the doorway, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little disappointed when I didn’t see my girl in the room.

“Connor! You’re early. I thought you were just coming for the concert.” Liv said, looking from me to Alessia and back to me. 

“Wanted to surprise my girl. Where is she?”

“She’s uh, not here right now. She went to the bus to get something.”

I nod, “Well can I wait for her?”

“While I know she’d love that, I think you should wait.”

“What? Why?”

“Well, she doesn’t know that you’re gonna be at the concert tonight. I think it’d be a nice surprise for then,” Liv says. 

“Actually, I think now would be a good time.” Alessia nods. “Come with me real quick. I think we can make it to the bus before she leaves.”

“Les, what are you doing?” Liv asks. 

“I have something for them. Come on, Connor.” She takes my hand and rushes me out to her sitting tour bus.

“Les, is she okay? She hasn’t been in a very talkative mood recently.” I ask when we walk out of the building. I squint at the bright sun that’s doing a great job of blinding me. 

“She will be. You just have to trust me.”

“Hey, I couldn’t find them. What are you - Connor?” Y/n stops in her tracks a few feet in front of us. 

“Surprise.” I move from my place behind Alessia and hold my arms open for my girl. It takes a second and that worries me, but she falls into me anyway. “Got you speechless, huh?” I chuckle, even though it hasn’t been that hard to get her not to talk. 

“What are you doing here?” she asks, pulling away far sooner than I would have wanted. 

“I came to see you,” I say as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Why?”

“What do you mean ‘why?’ I missed my girlfriend and I wanted to see her. We’re finally in the same place again, I had to take advantage of that.”

She nods, not looking me in the eyes. “Okay.”

“Did you… not want me here?” 

“No! No, it’s not that. I just, I don’t know, I thought you’d have other things to do.”

“Nothing but seeing you.”

“Hey guys, I don’t really want to interrupt this… reunion. But I need both of your opinions on a song I’m working on. I want to have it out for Christmas.”

“Okay?” We both respond, following Les to the bus. I sit next to y/n, who sits near to the window in the small booth; Alessia sits in front of us with her computer between us all. 

“What’s the song about?” Y/n asks and I reach for her hand that’s clasped in her lap. 

“You.”

“Me?”

“And you.”

“Me?” my eyes widen. 

“Just listen, okay? I’m not releasing it unless you guys give the okay.” She hits play and we all wait for the lyrics to start. 

We were warm and wonderful / once upon a time / but now we’re frozen / hanging by a thread

My heart drops hearing the words. This is not what I think it is. 

Can we wait a minute / or can we just try to try / cause my favorite day is coming up ahead / darling I know that our love is growing cold 

No. “Y/n?” I look over at her see she’s looking down, tears splashing onto her lap. 

And hold on a little longer / don’t have me spending it alone / this time of year is precious / please / can we make it to Christmas? / can we make it to Christmas?

We’re barely a minute into the song  and I’m already crying. When I told her how I felt about our relationship, I didn’t think she would make a song out of it. 

Don’t know what I’ll say to dad when he sees the empty chair / don’t want to hear my mom say “told you so”

God, this just keeps getting worse. My shoulders are shaking, I’m crying so hard and I have nowhere to escape to. I’m stupid for sitting on the inside of the booth. 

And I don’t want to be angry at mistletoe

The loud click of the space bar is what fills my ears next, and then his voice. “Y/n? What’s going on? Are you - do you want to break up?”

I can only shake my head. “No,” I manage to let out. I thought,” I sniffle, “I thought you wanted to break up.”

“What? No. Never. Why would you think that?” 

I look up at him and his eyes are bluer than I’ve ever seen them; it hurts. “We weren’t talking. You never called, answered my texts. And when we did talk, it was just a ‘how’s your day? How’s tour?’ I was - I was scared. I thought you were already tired of me.”

“Sweetheart, no. I - I couldn’t,” he takes my face in his hands. “I’m not.”

“Then what happened? Why weren’t we talking? I know we’re on tour, but that didn’t stop us before.”

He sighs, pressing his forehead against mine. “This is - this is my first real relationship. Well, not real, I guess, but this is the first time I’ve ever been in love. Like completely, undeniably in love.”

I pull away from him. “What?”

“What? What’d I say?”

“You’re in love with me?”

“You didn’t,” he stops and looks down, scoffing. “God, I’m the worst boyfriend ever.”

“What? No, Connor.”

“You didn’t even know I was in love with you. I’m a horrible boyfriend!” He holds his head in his hands. “Hey, look we can fix this.” He quickly takes my hand back. “Please, love. Tell me it’s not too late to fix this. I know it’ll work. I just need to try harder. I’m gonna try harder, okay? I’m not about to let this love grow cold. Okay? I’m not.”

I sigh and rest my forehead on his shoulder. “Connor?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you too.”

---

TODAY

“Is this the last of the boxes? I thought we had more.” I look around us, seeing only tree boxes, and two of them weren’t even full. 

“Well we did have to get rid of a lot during the move. And there’s also that box that Brian dropped that had the lights and most of the ornaments.”

“Oh yeah. So we need to go get some.”

“We do,” he nods, “But let’s see what we already have before we go crazy on the decorations, yeah?”

I nod, “Yeah.”

“Let me get the tree out of the garage.”

“Hey bub?” I say before he leaves the room.

“Yep?”

“Can we get a real tree this year? I mean, we weren’t allowed to at our apartments, but - there’s no rule that says we can’t do it here.”

He chuckles and comes closer to me, wrapping his arms around my waist. “You just want to go shopping, don’t you?”

I shrug, “Maybe a little bit.”

He hums before pressing a kiss to the tip of my nose. “Okay. Go get your jacket.”

I smile wide, “I love you.”

“I love you too. Now go, I’ll start the car.”

“Jesus, how many mistletoe did you buy?” I exclaim, pulling one after another out of the bag.”

“Like twelve.”

“For what? We don’t need that many.”

“Yes,” he nods, taking the mistletoe from the table. “One for every entry in the house. You’re not getting out of kissing me this year.”

I feel my face heat up. He knows I can’t say no to tradition. “You’re something else.”

“Well thank you.” He holds one above our heads when he steps closer. “Now, where’s my kiss?”

I tsk. “Guess you forgot to buy twelve of those at the store, huh?” I joke and his jaw drops.

“Y/n!” He whines.

I laugh, “I’m kidding. I’m kidding. Come here, blue eyes.” I take his face in both my hands and kiss his lips once. “Now we should probably go get that tree.”

“Ah, no you don’t,” he takes my wrist and pulls me back. “You owe me eleven more kisses.”

“How about we spread them out?”

“We can spread something out,” he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. 

I laugh, “How about after we put the decorations up, love?”

He sighs with an over exaggerated eye roll. “Fine.”

I take my phone out of my pocket and connected it to our speaker on the kitchen counter. I take just a second to get our Christmas playlist up and then Connor and I are on a roll, hanging mistletoe, dressing the tree in lights and tinsel. The room comes together nicely. 

“Right here?” Connor asks, after spacing out the stockings. I tilt my head to the side and squint, “A little to the right. It’s too close to Shawn’s.”

“Remind me again. Why did we buy stockings for them? It’s not like they’re going to be here for Christmas anyway.”

“Right and do you want to explain that to them on Saturday, or should I?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You know they’re coming over! It was your idea. Shawn, Brian, Alessia, Liv, Sam. They’re all coming over because you wanted the gang together one last time before the holidays took us all away from each other.”

He rolls his eyes, “Was I on something? Because that doesn’t sound like me.”

“You were a little drunk, yeah. But that doesn’t mean it’s not happening. I already told everyone when to show up and what to bring. Which reminds me, we need to get Christmas themed pajamas.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s a pajama party, genius.”

“Was that also my idea?”

“Yep.”

Jesus, keep me away from the alcohol then because I’m not making that same mistake again.”

“Oh, that reminds me, too. We need to get a bottle or two of wine for your parents’ Christmas party.”

He smiles fondly at me, and I shrink under his gaze. 

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Just thinking about how lost I’d be without you.”

I’m blushing, I know I am, and I don’t know how he still manages to get me to do that. “Well,” I clear my throat, “I need to get Les’s stocking. I’ll be right back.” I sift through the last couple of bags on the dining room table that we still hadn’t gone through, finding the last two stocking we needed.  I pull the tags off and walk back into the living room just as the song changes. 

The familiar notes fill my ears and I’m suddenly taken back to where we were two years ago.

We were warm and wonderful / once upon a time / and now we’re frozen / hanging by a thread

I’m laying down, my head in Alessia’s lap, crying about Connor. Then Connor and I are speaking less and less, the phone calls getting shorter, more meaningless by the day. I’m crying myself to sleep in the bunk. Les is drying my tears, Liv is holding my hair back from the one time I made myself so worried that I was literally worried sick. Then we’re there on the bus; Connor, Alessia, and me, all in that booth. The song is playing. I’m crying. Connor’s looking at me with that awful, heartbreaking expression on his face and I can’t take it. I want it to stop. I need it to stop. It was so long ago. We’re over it now. We’re here.

---

“Y/n? Baby, you okay?” I question, taking her hands in mine. She’s pale and her eyes are red with threatened tears. Her eyes snap closed and she shakes her head, the first tear falling. “Hey, hey. It’s okay. Talk to me, baby. What’s going on?” I take her in my arms, resting her head on my chest, smoothing out her hair. 

“The song,” I hear her murmur and I listen, just now realizing that I had completely tuned out the festive music playing through the house. 

Darling, I know that our love is growing cold / there’s just something ‘bout the snow / this time of year that makes us  lose our way / just say we’ll make up / and hold on a little longer / don’t have me spending it alone / this time of year is precious / break my heart on boxing day / just please / can we make it to Christmas?

I sigh and bring her even closer. Sure, the song has that upbeat feel to it, and yes we let Les release it, because despite what it was about, it’s a great song. But I know why she’s sad now. No one else besides us knows the process of it. No one knows that the could struggling to make it to Christmas was us. And that hurts us both.

“It’s okay, little bear. I’ve got you.”

“I hate knowing we went through that,” she whimpers into my chest. 

“I know. I do too. But just look on the bright side.”

“What’s that?” she sniffles, holding my waist tighter. 

“We made it,” I whisper into her hairline, and press a gentle kiss to her temple. “We made it to Christmas.”

***

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Tag: @sunrise-shawn @anamariel2301 @shawns-badreputation @bbellbagel @turtoix @ivegotparticulartaste @tomshufflepuff @dino-16-avocado @sleepybesson @lifeoftheparty74 @shawnssongs @luvluvxx @foreveralone19588 @shawnandconnor @5-seconds-of-mendes @emma-manuhpe @nedthegay @shawnsblue

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[jeonakookie]

I Wish (3)

Pairing: JungkookxOC

Word Count: 2.8k

Summary: Zoya and Jungkook had lost touch years ago. When a situation brings them back into each other lives, they try to go back to how things were as best friends once again. But a lot can change in 8 years. People. Feelings.

Masterlist

“Oi! Why are your short legs making you fly out of there?” Alice questioned. Zoya didn’t entertain the light insult in the question.

“Nothing, we need to get home, that’s all. It’s quite late.” Zoya continued to speed walk towards the underground, with her friends following her confused.

“Zoya!” The distant call of her name urged her to walk faster.

“Zoya!” She could hear the running and then it stopped. “Please.” The voice finished with a sigh. Zoya slowed down, hesitating to a stop. Jungkook could have easily caught up, but he was giving her a choice. Sighing, she slowly turned to face Jungkook who had a cap and mask on. Zoya glanced behind him, self-consciously. She could see her friends enjoying watching the scene unfold before them.

“Jungkook what are you doing? You can still get mobbed by fans here. A cap and mask aren’t exactly inconspicuous.” Zoya murmured to the tall man urgently. “Go. Go before someone recognises you.”

“Before someone recognises me just like you tried to leave before I recognised you?”

There was no point in denying it, “I don’t know what you’re talking about?” But that didn’t stop her from trying.

He arched his brow, and with a smile, he shook his head. “Still as stubborn as ever.”

“I…I don’t…” Zoya tried to keep lying but there was a lump in her throat. Sighing, she looked at him with a sheepish smile and simply said, “Hi.”

To which he replied with a “Hey.”

Shaking her head in mock disappointment, Zoya said “8 years with me and you still suck at English. Yeah that’s right, I know about your English score Jeon Jungkook.” Zoya’s laugh stopped midway when she felt a body embrace her. Once Zoya got over the initial shock, she hugged Jungkook back. When they both pulled back, they couldn’t stop themselves from smiling. “Maybe we should stop smiling so much, we probably look like fools.” She commented to which he chuckled and said, “I can’t help that I’m happy I found my childhood friend at my group’s concert of all places.” He proceeded to pat Zoya’s head to which she swatted away, grumbling about him messing up her scarf.

“You look different.” He said awkwardly. Zoya knew he was referring to her scarf but didn’t know whether to point it out, so she decided to tease him. She, in all her extra fashion, started fiddling with the material on her head and flicking it back like it was hair and sighed dramatically before saying “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Zoya laughed at the face Jungkook pulled when he realised she was teasing him. She lightly nudged him whilst still laughing and they both turned towards her amused friends. They didn’t need to know Korean to understand what just happened, and Zoya didn’t miss the smirks they adorned.

Zoya walked towards her friends with Jungkook, feeling sheepish at their expressions and she knew they had something to say. She introduced them officially to Jungkook and he nodded politely and shyly said, in a small accent “Nice to meet you.”

“Guys, as you know this is Jungkook.” She said.

She received a “Mhmmm.” In response from Alice, who continued to smirk. Zoya rolled her eyes with a smile and muttered a “Shut up.” To which Alice proceeded to laugh, enjoying teasing her friend.

Looking back at the boy, Zoya said “You should get back, the boys might be worried and you’re definitely in trouble after running out like that.”

Jungkook pouted and sighed, making Zoya pinch his cheek. Jungkook grimaced “Yah, stop it. I’m not a child.”

“Then stop pouting like one and go.”  She giggled.

“Are you coming to tomorrow’s show?” He asked with hopeful eyes. She gave a sad smile and shook her head.

“I’m leaving London tomorrow…” Jungkook raised an eyebrow in questioning, “…I don’t live in London, I live in a different city.” He then nodded in understanding, but also looked disappointed but then his face lit up again.

“Wait, when are you leaving?”

“Around 4, I think.” Zoya looked confused as to what Jungkook was trying to get at.

“Meet us tomorrow as well, before the concert. Please.” Jungkook could see Zoya was unsure. With a glance at her friends, she conceded with a sigh.

“Fine.” Her answer made Jungkook break out into a huge smile.

Jungkook had his hand out, obviously to put his number in her phone. As she handed it over he said, “Great, I’ll text you where to meet us.” he said as he returned her phone. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He shouts and waves as he jogs back towards the arena. Zoya smiled after him and glanced down at her phone and saw ‘JK’ in her recent contacts list.

“So…” Arielle starts, causing Zoya to look up. She shyly smiled at them as they gave her questioning looks.

“We’re seeing them tomorrow as well just before we leave.” Laughing slightly at their shocked faces, “Come on let’s get back to the place, I’m exhausted.

On their way back, it only consisted of excited chatter of the next day and that night Zoya slept with a smile on her face.

___

They were on their way to where Jungkook had texted Zoya to meet them and there was a skip in her step as they walked towards the direction. All the girls slowed down when they saw a crowd forming ahead. ‘Oh no’ she thought, thinking that maybe they got sighted by fans. Pushing their way closer to the crowd and Zoya let out a blood curdling scream when she got near enough to see what all the commotion was about. She pushed her way to the front and went to run towards the scene, but she was immediately stopped by a hand that belonged to a police officer. Tears streamed down her face and she looked past the officer. There lay Jungkook in a pool of blood and slowly a sheet was being pulled over his lifeless body. “No…” She whispered. “No, no! Jungkook!” She grew hysterical and sobs wracked through her body.

Zoya shot up in bed with a short cry of “No!”, feeling her erratic heart. There was a groaning and, from the bed next to her, Alice grumbled “What the hell Zoya.” Maybe she shouldn’t have watched that episode of ‘Criminal Minds’ before bed. She checked her time on the phone and it read ‘8:06’; she sighed as her hands ran over her face. “Sorry, bad dream.” She murmured softly to Alice.  Zoya decided she’d have a shower and start getting ready, waiting for Jungkook’s text. Not long after, the house became lively with the bustling sound of everyone getting ready because they had to look ‘snatched for their men’– Alice’s words, not Zoya’s. “I looked like a hot arse, sweaty mess, yesterday after the concert, Jimin is going to see me today and he’s going REMEMBER who Alice King is.” She said as she applied her highlighter.

Zoya laughed at her friend’s enthusiasm and agreed, “He’d be crazy not to. You are after all ‘The Goods 2.0’” Zoya laughed further at Alice’s unimpressed face. Zoya’s friends were well endowed and they had decided to name Lauren’s assets ‘The Goods’ and found fun in teasing her, but Lauren and Zoya also enjoyed teasing Alice as well.

Ten minutes later the girls were nearly ready and Jungkook had texted her to meet them at the arena through a certain entrance. “Guys now is not the time to be late.” Zoya complained. “We need to go.”

“Come on, let’s go, go, go! Chop chop!” Alice decided to reiterate her friend’s words with more force. And it seemed to work because they were out within seconds.

They had gotten off the tube and the O2 arena was now in their sights and the excitement grew amongst the girls again. They all calmed themselves down before following Jungkook’s instructions, passing by all the lines of excited fans and went to the entrance, and they were then led into the arena by security. It was slightly busy as the staff got ready for another show and were checking the mic’s, and Zoya saw the boys on stage talking amongst each other about, what seemed like, the staging.

Noticing a new presence, all of them turned towards Zoya and her friends and they all smiled at them. Namjoon notified the group of girls that they needed to rehearse and Jungkook told them to enjoy. They all sat down and watched the boys perform immaculately and even enthusiastically applauded to which they smiled bashfully at, whilst making their way off the stage to greet the girls. Jungkook went immediately towards Zoya and hugged her in front of everyone and she felt her face heat up. Zoya was mentally shaking her head thinking ‘they’re peas in the same pod’ as both of their groups of friends smirked at them.

“How are you feeling?” She asked them all. Namjoon decided to reply in English, to which Zoya smiled at. He was very considerate.

“We’re nervous, it’s always nice to perform in a new place, but we want to give our best to our fans.”

“You guys were amazing last night. I have no doubt that you’ll be just as great tonight. ARMY will be happy with your performance because they know how hard you guys work.” Hope said. All the girls murmured in agreement.

“You guys are very selfless, but I think I can say on behalf of all your fans, that we want you to take care of yourselves as well.” Alice added and smiled warmly at them. Namjoon translated what the two girls said. Zoya didn’t miss the way certain boys looked at her friends, specifically Jimin, Taehyung and Seokjin. The cogs in Zoya’s heads were turning and a sly smile made its way on her face.

“Alice, I just remembered, I think I dropped erm…my…Fenty thing in the waiting room yesterday, do you think it’d still be there?” Zoya asked with a worry laced voice. Zoya’s ‘Fenty thing’ was safe and sound in her make up bag and she knew it, that doesn’t mean they had to know. Alice shrugged. Zoya internally rolled her eyes at her ‘helpful’ friend.

“I don’t know, we can go check.” Namjoon offered. All the other boys looked lost. Zoya proceeded to say she lost something that might be in the waiting room in Korean.

“Oh, we’ll help you look!” Jimin said with a bright smile, and the others agreed. Zoya had to fight the smirk that threatened to show on her face, ‘just like putty in my hands’ she thought.

“Oh really?” Thank you. I hope it’s still there.” Zoya acted gracious with a big smile. Slowly Jimin was leading the way and Zoya momentarily blocked everyone’s path but Alice’s and Jimin’s ‘without realising’. “Oh sorry, I thought I remembered something. Okay let’s go.” She said as she moved out of everyone else’s way. Arielle proceeded to go alongside Hoseok with Amanda and Namjoon, followed by Hope, Seokjin and Taehyung. Jungkook and Yoongi were still yet to move and she looked at them with a confused look as they both smirked at her. “What?”

“You’re very clever. Sly, but clever nonetheless.” Jungkook commented with amusement gracing his features.

“The others may be none the wiser, but we see what you did.” Yoongi added with a smile as he shook his head.

Zoya mustered up her biggest clueless face, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She ended with a smirk as she whipped back in the direction their friends had gone and skipped ahead as she called back, “Come along boys!” The two boys shook their heads in disbelief at the girl, but they both also smiled fondly at her behaviour as they followed her lead. Jungkook could only think of how glad he was that he had found his best friend again, but something different stirred in him this time.

Just ahead of those three, were Seokjin, Hope and Taehyung. The two boys had somehow started a compliment battle over Hope, and she didn’t mind at first.

“You look nice today.” Taehyung had started.

“Yes, very good.” Seokjin added.

“Aw, thank you.” Hope smiled at them both and giggled feeling bashful at the compliment. Hope, however, was unaware of the boys having a brief stare off until they started saying random words.

Taehyung said “Pretty.”

To which Seokjin replied with, “Good looking.”

“Beautiful.”

“Attractive.” Seokjin said smugly at a word he had learnt recently.

The conversation went from complimenting her, to a fight over who could use the most English synonyms to do with looking nice.

Running out of words, Taehyung chose to ignore Seokjin. “Pink?” Taehyung questioned as he pointed to Hope’s hair, to which she nodded in confirmation that her hair was pink. “So colourful, I want pink.” The boy said with a wide boxy smile and his eyes crinkled as he laughed.

“Yes, so pretty.” Seokjin countered. His smugness was short-lived as he was not happy that Hope was smiling, focused on Taehyung. “Hair so le-jin-dary!” He exclaimed and proceeded to laugh at his own joke.” Hope giggled, more at his obvious amusement at his own joke than the actual joke. Taehyung just rolled his eyes at his older friend. Normally he would laugh or shake his head in amusement, but today there was an air of competitiveness around the two boys.

“Do you like pictures? You are like a beautiful scenery.” Before Hope had time to blush at Taehyung’s brave compliments, Seokjin gave Taehyung a pointed look, as if to say, ‘back off’.

This time Seokjin pulled out all the stops. “Noneun, nomu areumdawo.” He said softly as he caressed her shoulder. It was quite an innocent gesture, but Hope felt her heart momentarily stop and then start up beating double time. Korean suddenly became the world’s sexiest language and Hope gave him a flirty smile as he gave her one back. Her daze was short lived when Taehyung started mumbling in Korean to Seokjin. Taehyung looked less than pleased whilst Seokjin just smirked at him. Hope’s very limited Korean failed to keep up with what was being said.  

The argument, about who she likes more and who saw her first, was heard by Zoya, Jungkook and Yoongi as they caught up with the other 3 who had momentarily stopped because the two boys were arguing as Hope witnessed it with a confused and lost expression on her face.

Zoya sighed and grabbed the girl’s hand to drag her away from the stupidity of the argument, whilst Yoongi and Jungkook dealt with the two boys. She muttered, “Unbelievable, I leave you for a minute and you end up having two guys fighting over you.”

Hope halted suddenly, “Wait what? They’re fighting over me?” She looked elated at this news. Zoya rolled her eyes.

“Yes, they’re fighting over you like you’re a toy.”

Hope giggled, “I don’t mind at all.”

With a sigh Zoya said, “Yes, I’m well aware of that fact Hope, but they’re not about to fight over my friend like she’s an object.” Hope rolled her eyes at her friend’s over protectiveness and the two girls continued to walk towards backstage, “They’ve got another thing coming if they think I’m not going to have something to say to them later.” Zoya muttered the last part.

Ahead of them was Namjoon, Hoseok, Arielle and Amanda. If anyone saw the scene before them, they’d use one word to describe it: Tragic. Arielle and Hoseok had started a conversation and they were getting along fine at first and Hoseok’s cheery energy was almost contagious. However, at some point the conversation had dwindled down to an awkward silence as they both ran out of topics to talk about. They both wished that the walk backstage was a lot shorter in that moment.

In Lauren and Namjoon’s case, they had no problem with talking. Lauren was on cloud 9 because she was talking to her bias, one on one, practically alone. Only one problem. Lauren’s subtle advances had no effect on Namjoon. Needless to remind everyone that her friends called Lauren ‘The OG Goods’ and Lauren decided to capitalise on that fact with her outfit today, yet he seemed rather unfazed. The girl was trying to guess whether he was just oblivious or was not interested. The latter option made her mentally frown. He was still being cute smiling at her, showing off his dimples, but he spoke to her about London animatedly as if she was native to the city. Did her Irish accent confuse him? But she let him assume what he wanted, because he was Kim Namjoon. Insert heart eyes, because if anyone else assumed she was not Irish, she would make them sit through a one-hour lecture on why she was Irish and how she was Irish. Zoya and her friends could testify to that.

Lastly, ahead of the rest of the group was Jimin and Alice. The conversation was awkward once small talk was out of the way, but they soon fell into the groove of Alice teaching Jimin fun phrases in English for him to say at the concert. “It’s really easy. Big. Man. Ting.”

__

By the time all of them had got backstage, it was a mixture of relief, tension and laughter. Zoya immediately joined Alice and dragged her to ‘help look’ for her missing object. “So…” Zoya started while wiggling her eyebrows.

“What?” Alice said with her eyebrows scrunched in confusion.

“You and Jimin, duh! Did you get it?!” She said excitedly, which earned her a smack on the arm.

“Oh my gosh, can you be quiet? No!” Alice rolled her eyes at her friend’s disappointed face. “You’re honestly ridiculous.”

“You should be thanking me mate. How did you think you and Jimin weren’t interrupted all the way here?” Zoya said as a matter of fact while raising one brow, but she did make sure to quieten her voice.

“Wh-you? You. Of course it was you.” Alice sighed.

“I’m going to take that as a tone of gratitude and not a tone of exasperation. You’re welcome.” Zoya replied in an overly cheery voice.

“I can’t deal with you right now.”

“Love you too.” Zoya laughed and patted Alice on the back, to which she grumbled something incoherent.

“Did you guys find anything?” Zoya asks, to which everyone shakes their head or responds with a ‘no’. With a sigh Zoya shrugs and says “Oh well. I guess I’ll have to live without it.”

“I’m sorry Zoya. I know you’ll miss your…” Yoongi came by and paused for Zoya to fill in the gap. Zoya knew exactly what he was doing, and she widened her eyes when she realised she forgot what she ‘lost’.

“My thing. Thanks, Yoongi, but I’ll be fine.” Zoya smiled sweetly at him, but her eyes gave him a different message. Something like ‘you better shut your mouth before I shut it for you’.

A/N Let me know what you guys think of part 3 and leave a like :)

-A

Masterlist

[winnipegpatty]

We’re Fatally Flawed | one | s.m. series

a/n: thanks to @fourtristattoos for helping me with some conceptual things. ily boo you are so good! 

warnings: language

if you’re interested in the music

“Hey man, my name’s Travis Clark. I sing for We the Kings? I hear you have a band in Toronto?”

“That, uh, yeah that’s right,” Shawn stuttered.

“We want you to play with us on tour.”

Shawn stuttered on his side of the phone. He hadn’t heard that right, clearly. “You what?” He said like a fucking idiot.

Is this what a big break felt like?

__

At the young age of twenty-three, Shawn Mendes hadn’t don’t much with his life. After graduating high school, Shawn had done what a good kid does, and went to college. He came out two years later, with an associates degree in business. Since, he’s done very little that would make his parents proud. He only went to college to oblige them in the first place, but now, three years out of college, he had nothing to show for it. Shawn wasn’t lazy or anything. He wasn’t one of those kids that came home from college and then moved into their parents basement and did nothing with their life. Shawn just didn’t love business. He didn’t love school. He loved music. And music was the only thing he could imagine doing, no matter how unrealistic or unlikely it seemed.

Shawn wasn’t completely ungrateful for college though. If it hadn’t been for those two years he would have never met Mandy Stein. A beautifully tender hearted person that he now could call his own. They’d been dating for almost four years now. Mandy was starting her first year as a kindergarten teacher this year. She was so excited, and Shawn knew she was made for teaching. Her kind heart and her caring demeanor was perfect for molding young minds.

So while Mandy was preparing her first lesson plans and decorating her classroom, Shawn was in the garage of his and Mandy’s small home practicing with his band, Terminal. The band was Shawn’s entire life. He’d somehow managed to find some of the most incredible people who were willing to go on the journey alongside him. Mike, Zubin, Eddy, and Dave all made up the band along with Shawn, and aside from Mandy they were the most important people in his life right now. Terminal had been doing good lately, after two years of playing to nothing but empty rooms or friends, they’d finally seemed to hit some momentum.

They’d most recently been asked to been asked to open for a handful of bands that were big in Toronto. It was good exposure, for a band so unknown. Punk music wasn’t exactly the most popular in Canada either, but Shawn couldn’t find it in himself to make the music people would want to hear. He had to make what he wanted to hear. What he was inspired to make. Even if it meant that he wasn’t going to have the fame and success that he truly craved. Even if it meant he never got to play in front of a full stadium.

Tonight they had a show at the Scotiabank arena. It was the first of a three night run in front of the band We the Kings. When Travis Clark had personally contacted Shawn a couple months ago, Shawn hadn’t believed him. Thought the phone call was some cruel prank, but Travis was in fact very serious. He’d heard Terminal’s debut EP through a friend, and he wanted their band to open for them. It was insane, and the craziest thing the band had ever had the opportunity to do by a long shot. Tonight they’d be playing in front of over 15,000 people. The band was collectively losing their shit.

It was the opportunity of a lifetime. Over the next five days, Terminal would have exposure to over 40,000 new people who had most likely never heard their music before. People who had no idea that they were still practicing in a soundproof garage. In the past few weeks, Shawn had been doing everything he could to up their social media game with the hopes of attracting new fans after the upcoming shows. His sister Aaliyah had helped him with some special instagram layout or something that she said would catch people’s eyes. He didn’t know much about that, but he trusted her.

“You’re coming tonight, right?” Shawn asked Mandy through the phone, voice filled with excitement.

The band was at the arena now, getting ready for soundcheck. Shawn couldn’t even think, it was so surreal.

“Babe, you know I’ve got to get my classroom ready tonight.”

Shawn bit his lip, minding the thin black ring on his lip. “Oh yeah, but you’ll make it to one of the other shows right?”

“I’m not sure yet,” Mandy’s voice came through.

Shawn tried not to feel the little pings of disappointment that were coming for his heart.

“I’m just so busy, Shawn,” Mandy added. “School starts in a week and a half. And I’m nowhere near ready.”

Shawn nodded, “Yeah that’s okay. Get lots of work done tonight. I’ll see you at home?”

Mandy smiled into the phone, “We can celebrate.”

Shawn flicked his tongue over his lips, “Yeah okay. I gotta go now, we’re gonna sound check.” Shawn sucked in a breath, “Fuck...we’re gonna soundcheck. I think I’m going to cry, Mandy. I’m a fucking pansy.”

“No, you’re just living your dream. It’s okay to be emotional about it.” She smiled, “I love you, Shawn. You’re gonna kill it.”

“Love you too.”

___

“FUCKKKK!” Zubin yelled from backstage. “This is really fucking happening isn’t it?” He looked too Shawn hopefully.

Shawn nodded, “It is. Fuck, I don’t think I can breathe. I’ve never been this nervous before.”

Zubin clapped Shawn on the back, laughing maniacally. “We’re gonna tear the stage up. Toronto isn’t gonna know what hit ‘em.”

“Exactly!” Eddy piped in.

“Okay, I just...let’s go over it again okay?” Shawn nervously twirled the thin band on his right ring finger. “Opening with Mess of Me, then Voices. I’ll introduce the band. Then we’ll sing Native Tongue. Terminal, Take My Fire, and then we’ll close with Bullet Soul.”

“We got it man,” Mike hollered. “We’ve been practicing for weeks. Stop worrying. Let’s just enjoy it, yeah?”

Shawn wasn’t sure if he could actually stop worrying, but he did his best to just breathe.

A man with a headset came up to them, “You guys are on. The lights will come up as soon as the video fades out.”

They all hustled onto stage and Shawn could feel his entire body vibrating as he placed his hands on his guitar, ready to strike his first chord. Thirty seconds later, the lights rise and the arena erupts in a chorus of screams. Shawn starts the riffs of Mess of Me and on the second go around Zubin joins in. “I am my own affliction,” Shawn’s voice comes through the speakers like smooth honey, and the crowd screams for them. “I am my own disease.”

The chorus crashes in and the boys come behind him singing a chorus of oh’s before Shawn voice goes raspy, and he starts singing the chorus at the top of his lungs. He’s never felt more alive than he does in this moment. He thinks back to his happiest memories, and there is nothing that compares to this moment in time. He thinks he finally knows what it means to be alive. Nerves a thing of the past, Shawn jumps on the stage, guitar in hand, and owns the performance like he was born to do exactly this.

Mess of Me segways easily into Voices, and it all just feels so right. The rush of adrenaline Shawn gets as he walks down the catwalk with his microphone was unreal. People, who minutes ago had no idea who he was, are reaching for him like he holds the fucking world in his hands. It’s addictive. Shawn bends down reaching out to touch a girls hand who screams at him as he sings, “And I’ve got a army of voices in my head.”

He looks towards the other side of the catwalk and catches eyes with a person who’s actually singing the words like they know who they are. And if Shawn thought performing to a hyped up crowd was cool before, he knew now had just a sliver of what it could feel like with a stadium full of people singing back to you. He needed to know what that felt like.

Voices came to a head when Zubin shouted the last few words and the music cut out. Shawn ran back up the catwalk back to his mic stand.

“Hello Toronto!” Shawn screamed into the microphone. The crowd explodes with screams and shouts and clapping. “You’re looking extra beautiful tonight. It is amazing to finally meet all of you lovely people. My name is Shawn. Zubin is here on guitar,” Zubin played a sick guitar riff that had Shawn’s ears humming. “Give it up for Eddy on the keys,” Eddy followed Zubin in a similar fashion. “And Mike is smashing it on the drums tonight, eh?” Mike killed a drum beat before Shawn screamed into the microphone, “And we are Terminal, this next song is Native Tongue.”

___

“Celebratory drinks?” Zubin asked as the boys packed up their guitars and packing them into the van they’d come in.

“Hell yes!” Shawn roared.

Piling into the van, they headed to a nearby bar. It was already past midnight, but fuck it. When the opportunity of a lifetime presents itself, you fucking celebrate.

We the Kings had killed it on stage, and the concert was just amazing. Coming off stage had been disorienting to say the least. Shawn was covered in sweat, his heart pounding, his ears ringing, and his entire body vibrating from adrenaline. The first step into back stage was like being hit by a wall of silence. The ringing in his ears intensified and his body suddenly felt like it was in an overwhelming overdrive with no real output. After sometime, the feeling eventually subsided and Shawn was able to return to life. But he’d definitely never experienced an adrenaline rush quite like that before. He was willing to bet it was addictive.

At the bar they each got a round of shots before picking their drinks of choice. They sat at a high top table, discussing the feelings the night had induced in all of the. Each member going over things they’d never forget. Moments that were worth reliving over and over again. Somewhere in the early hours of the morning, a girl walked over to the group, drink in hand.

“Hey, you’re the guys from Terminal right?” She slurred slightly. “Just saw you tonight.”

Shawn smiled, “Yeah that’s us.”

Fuck they were already being recognized? This is what dreams feel like, right?

“You guys, were so amazing tonight.”

The blonde girl leaned heavily against the table, coming closer to Shawn. She smelled like coconut.

“Well, thanks.” Shawn smiled. “Glad you liked it.”

She pressed into Shawn’s side and whispered, “I loved it.”

Shawn felt a rush heat run up his neck and onto his cheeks as he looked at the other boys who were just staring at the spectacle.

“Well it was nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, it was,” she looked at each of the band members before turning back to Shawn, looking like she wanted to completely devour him.

She stumbled away, and Zubin whistled at Shawn. “Dude Mandy’s got some competition.”

Shawn rolled his eyes, “You know there isn’t anyone but Mandy. Not for me anyway.”

Zubin looked at Eddy making a special kind of eye contact before Eddy laughed. Shawn ignored them in favor of grabbing another bear from the bar.

It wasn’t until after three that Shawn stumbled into their home. He slammed the door a little too loud, cringing at the loud echo in his skull. Tomorrow morning wasn’t going to be fun. He walked into the kitchen, cursing when he stubbed his toe against the island. He shuffled around looking for the light, before finally finding it, illuminating the room in a warm glow. He quickly grabbed a glass, filling it with water, and swallowing down some pain killers. Turning off the light, he stumbled down the hallway, into the bedroom.

Shawn pulled off his shirt and jeans before falling into his bed with a huff.

“Shawn?” Mandy whispered, rolling over. “What time is it?”

“It’s almost 4 babe, go back to sleep.”

“How was the concert?” She mumbled instead.

“It was good, babe. Now go back to sleep.”

She turned away from him in the bed, and Shawn pushed himself up against her back, arms wrapping around her torso.

“We were supposed to celebrate,” was the last thing Shawn heard before he slipped into a deep sleep.

tagging: @fourtristattoos @peacedolantwins2 @rosecth @unhealthyobsessionwithmarvel 

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[levihauser]

十月の三週間

25 October, 2019

Sorry I have taken so long to write another blog entry! I have been a little busy with stuff here in Japan, so this entry should be filled with interesting events from the past three weeks.

On the fifth, my host niece and nephew, Yuria and Shuudai, came over for lunch. We had pasta (with thousands of tiny fish eggs mixed in-yum!) and crabs. My host mom said that the crabs were small, but they were larger than any I had ever seen. I was told to scrape the meat out of the legs and eat that, as well as the eggs for that. After having had eggs for breakfast, it was a pretty egg-cellent day. There. I hadn’t made a pun yet on this blog, but now you get to put up with one of the most cliché bad puns of all time. I went to our neighbor’s (Mrs. Takamatsu, I think I mentioned her in the most recent post) house to stay the night. I just learned a few days ago that her husband runs one of the 5 most profitable businesses in the prefecture.

The next day, I read in the morning and finished the last book that I had brought with me from the US. We had curry rice for breakfast, then I went with Mrs. Takamatsu to a temple for a Buddhist festival. It was quite a big temple, and very new. The festival was also interesting-everyone just sat in a central room and watched a recording of the same festival happening in a central temple in Tokyo, occasionally chanting, bowing, or clapping along to it. We left early to pick up her husband at the train station. He had just come back from Chicago (a few days later, actually, Mrs. Takamatsu left for Chicago. They have a daughter there, so they visit there a lot). I had my first Japanese-style pizza for lunch. It was very thin-crusted and crunchy, almost like a big cracker. I returned home, then my host parents and I went out for dinner at a nearby specialty restaurant called Nishide. I think they know the people there, and the like eating there, but it is expensive so they don’t do it too often.

The entire next week was midterms for the students at my school (their school year starts in April), so the school days ended at around 11 AM. I couldn’t take the tests, not understanding the language, so I was sent to the library to read and study Japanese.

On the tenth, I had a Rotary meeting. I have started taking Japanese lessons every Thursday at the Matto Cultural Hall near my school, so I have to go straight to the Rotary meeting without going home to change out of my school uniform. This one was in Kanazawa at a special restaurant. We had good food after a short meeting, and played host to a Rotary club that had come to visit all the way from Lake Biwa.

On National P.E. and Sports Day here in Japan (the same day as Columbus/Indigenous Peoples Day in the US), I had no school, so my host mom and dad suggested that I take the train to Kanazawa. I have never ridden the train before, even in the US (unless you count subways and old-fashioned railroads where you pay a lot of money to sit in leather seats and get your ticket punched with an actual ticket puncher), so I was a little worried. I had no problem buying the tickets-the ticket machines have an option to use English-but I accidentally got in the wrong line (I am still not sure what it was for and I haven’t seen one like it since then) and wasted about 40 minutes there without moving before I asked someone and they pointed me in the right direction. I successfully got to Kanazawa Station. One of my classmates was on the same train by coincidence, so I followed them to find my way to the exit. I actually went out the one that my tiny tourist map didn’t cover at first, so I had to go around to the other side. It was raining and windy, so I had some difficulty reading the map and holding my umbrella at the same time. I eventually made my way to Oyama Jinja, a famous shrine just outside of Kanazawa Castle and near Kenrokuen Garden (which is a famous Japanese garden, for those of you who haven’t heard of it). I admired the shrine for a bit and bought a few good luck charms that were for sale there, then returned to the station and went home, since I had to be home before 5 PM. The round trip only cost ¥400.

On the 18th, my school festival began. My school’s festival is a small one, or so I’ve heard, but the Japanese certainly know how to throw one (no offense to anybody back at home, but PHS should take some advice from Matto High School. Those 2-hour pep rallies and shouting contests just don’t cut it). The first day was not at the school, but at the nearby Matto Cultural Hall, since they have an auditorium and the school doesn’t. There were several student presentations and performances, including brass band (I mentioned this earlier. It has won regional awards and is very impressive. They play music that sounds just like the original recordings. They did a specially arranged version of the alma mater as well as the Jurassic Park theme and a few other songs), choir (it is made up of only 7 members, but has beautiful harmonies and keeps in tune perfectly, while creating a huge amount of sound without microphones. They did a song from Sister Act and a few others), taiko (I performed in this one! We borrowed some drums from the Asano Taiko Company, the largest taiko company in the world. The owner and CEO is a member of my host Rotary Club and my school is the only one in the prefecture with a taiko club), and dance (it was very well rehearsed. There were only five members, but I think they created their own routine and it was fun to watch), as well as a short, corny play put on by the teachers in which one of the gym teachers, Mr. Higashi, had to go on a funny adventure to rescue Miss Matto High School 2019 from her kidnappers (either a gang or a group of devils, it was hard to tell without understanding the language) headed by the other gym teacher, Ms. Sawada (everyone loves Ms. Sawada and they were a little disappointed to see her defeated in the end). We returned to the school after the performances finished, then finished preparing and decorating for the next day (I say finished because we had been preparing for this after school for weeks, making paper chains, posters, placemats, paper flowers, etc.), before being dismissed. The next day was a Saturday, but the festivities continued. It was in the school, and was pretty much the “buy stuff” day. We had tickets that cost from ¥50-400 that payed for things ranging from waffles to games of bingo to weird, confined-space bowling to tea ceremony. It took up seven hours, in which I explored, ate lots of food, and went to various events including what they called a 4DX movie, which was essentially an English horror film translated into Japanese and played through tiny speakers while a few students made weird sound effects and threw things (e.g. whacking rulers on desks, throwing foam at backs, and spritzing water from spray cans) to make it “more realistic.” With all of the stuff going on and the voices, I really didn’t pay attention to the movie and instead collected as many of the little foam pieces as I could.

On the twentieth I had my favorite Japanese food for breakfast-hooray, inarizushi! I went to Kanazawa alone by train again and spent about 5 hours wandering about and seeing new things, but forgetting to eat lunch and getting kind of hungry. I returned home at around 4, and was almost immediately told that I was shortly going to a concert with a Rotarian, Ms. Ikemoto (I think she is going to be my third host mom too, but I am not sure). We went to an old, elaborate temple and watched an out-of-place-seeming amateur old folk and country music concert with a couple of English songs and one entirely about curry rice. The musicians were very talented. We went to an udon shop for dinner afterwards and stayed very late because Ms. Ikemoto didn’t want to leave until the match of the Rugby World Cup between Japan and South Africa had finished.

I had the 22nd off of school because of the enthronement of the new emperor of Japan. My host Rotary club counselor, Ms. Nagase, took me to Kanazawa (by train, because the roads were too crowded due to the holiday). She spent 3 years in England a while back, so she speaks fairly good English, which is good for smoothing out misunderstandings. She is a bit of an anglophile and is constantly asking me how to say things in British English. We briefly stopped in at the 21st Century Museum of Modern Art, but it was crowded as usual and we had to leave soon. There was a Moomin exhibition which I would love to have gone to, but the Japanese love Moomin and the entire floor it was on was packed (Moomin is 20th Century art, so how does that fit into the museum?). Next we went to the D.T. Suzuki Museum, which is a small, modern museum celebrating the famous Kanazawa-born philosopher that is its namesake. There were not many people and it was very peaceful. It was even free admission because of the Enthronement Day (upon seeing the sign, Ms. Nagase got very excited and took several pictures-apparently it is very rare at this museum). We went to a fancy sashimi restaurant near the train station for lunch-it was great food, and we got our own special compartment with sliding doors! After lunch, we went to a concert hall right next to Kanazawa Station for a piano concert. The Kanazawa orchestra has a weird mascot named Gargantua that is sort of like a caricature of a conductor. The orchestra was conducted by Keita Matsui, and the three piano concertos were Mozart’s Piano Concerto No. 23 in A Major, performed by Yukari Yamada, Chopin’s Piano Concerto No. 1 in E Minor, performed by Rikono Takeda, and Liszt’s Piano Concerto No. 1 in E-Flat Major, performed by Marie Kiyone. The performance was all very high-quality, and it was open-seating so we got second-row seats in the perfect spot to watch the pianists’ hands. At the end, all three pianists returned and played a piano trio all on the same piano, which must have been difficult. They were all wearing dresses that I would think would hinder playing (forgive me if I went a little overboard in description there, I am very interested in anything related to piano playing). Ms. Nagase and I returned to Hakusan City by train, then went to her house. Half of it is a 30-year-old addition to the other half, which is 200 years old and barely touched. She has a beautiful yard (a rarity in Japan) and back garden. She showed me around briefly, then we went to walk her dog. After we returned, her husband got home from work. Both of them are very friendly and kind. Ms. Oribe, another Rotarian, had been invited for dinner and arrived shortly, then we walked to a nearby restaurant and had tempura.

There was also no school the next day, to make up for the Saturday that we had come to school for the festival. I studied Japanese for a little while, then on a snap decision decided I wanted to go to Fukui, a city in the neighboring prefecture. I obtained permission, then left. It was only ¥1,100 for each way, and the train ride was an hour and ten minutes on the small trains that stop at every station. I arrived and got some maps at the tourist information center, then set out exploring the city. I walked past some animatronic dinosaurs (that seems to be Fukui’s big tourist attraction, as the prefecture is a paleontological hotspot) and the ruins of the castle (which is now the prefectural government office-what a great workplace! You get to drive across a moat every day). I eventually reached a beautiful mountain in the middle of the city that had been turned into a forested park. It was the closest I have gotten to nature since I have come to Japan. I stopped at a shrine and explored a little more before descending. I continued wandering some more in search of restaurants and candy stores, but the food map I had was either outdated or misleading, and I couldn’t find any of the shops I searched for. At about 4 PM, I settled for some rice balls and ice cream from a convenience store for lunch instead, then returned home. The sun sets so early here, it is difficult to stay much longer and still have a good time.

Yesterday was my school’s P.E. festival. I was told to study Japanese in the school library instead of participating, but all of the other students went to a big park and participated in races and other mandatory events for gym class. I had my Japanese lesson and watched a tea ceremony with a lady who was visiting from Germany who happened to be at the Cultural Hall at the same time before going to the Rotary meeting. This week, a delegation from Hakusan’s sister city, Columbia, Missouri was visiting, so they came to the Rotary meeting and presented in the first half before leaving for some other obligation.

Today has been a fairly normal day so far. I had an average school day followed by an average afternoon, as far as I am allowed to use the word average, being an exchange student to Japan. I have been studying my Kanji (Chinese characters used in Japanese) quite a bit lately and seem to be making some headway. I am looking forward to being literate! I feel like it’s about time, now that I have officially passed the two month mark. Thank you all for your patience in waiting for this long-delayed entry.

Oyama Jinja Shrine:

Kanazawa Station:

I would add more pictures, but it keeps telling me there is an upload error, so I will try again later.