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j-graysonlibrary · 1 year ago

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Fort Heaven Chapter 12

Title: Fort Heaven

Author: Jay Grayson

Word Count: 69K

Genres: Suspense, investigative, drama, LGBT+

Available on: Kobo and my website

Synopsis: Some call it a hoax. Others claim it’s a cult. But, to Evon and his friend Yasmine, two online journalists, Fort Heaven is the subject of their latest story. Along for the assignment is cameraman and not-so-secret crush of Evon’s: Russet. With a drunken, murky night in their recent history, things are especially tense between them but, of course, personal matters take a backseat when the interviews start. The trio speaks to ex-members of Fort Heaven and, while some of the accounts are shocking, the job remains just that: A job. That is until one of the women they interviewed, along with her daughter, goes missing. It soon becomes clear that not only is Fort Heaven a real threat but Evon and his friends are being watched. And what started as a simple cash-grab article is now a matter of life and death.

Full Chapter 12 under the cut

Chapter 12

Willow Vosch Renee was a lot less intense once she was inside their hotel room and watching the interviews that had been taped over the past few days. She spoke a little more quietly and seemed a little embarrassed about her earlier behavior.

“I do really like your blog, by the way,” she said as she looked to Evon and Yasmine.

“Oh?” Yasmine raised an eyebrow.

“It’s very popular…”

“You’ve probably never read any of our stuff though,” Evon retorted, “and even if you did we may not have been credited. We’ve done a lot of group projects and the more popular bloggers get to put their names on it.”

“That’s rude,” Willow grumbled. She kept her hands in front of her, often wringing them together. “I definitely would have read this one…”

“It was going to be our big break,” Yasmine said with a sigh. It was definitely more dramatic than necessary—they weren’t putting all that much faith in the project.

“More mine, really…” Russet mentioned in a low, disgruntled voice. By all accounts, his career was more closely linked to the story than Evon and Yasmine’s—they just needed it to succeed to work another day but for Russet it would change the direction of his life. Or that’s what he’d been clinging to anyway.

“You don’t work at Genuine Tales?” Willow asked.

He shook his head. “I’m just a camera guy that happens to know that one,” he said as he pointed at Evon.

“It’s not like you agreed to do it because of me. If anything I was a deterrent,” the younger man countered.

Russet chuckled dryly. “Maybe a little.”

“Stop flirting,” Yasmine scolded, “We still have to figure out what we’re going to do about the Oswell’s.”

It definitely broke the mood but it was necessary. Willow took a deep breath and ran through all of the footage she’d been shown. It was, unfortunately, not very helpful.

The stories had been telling in terms of how the cult conducted business but it wasn’t a definite signifier that Fort Heaven had taken them. It was a good guess but was only that—a guess.

“If we go to the police with this they’ll laugh at us,” Willow said with a low voice.

“I wish it were more convincing,” Russet added. “Though even if we got more testimonies it still wouldn’t be proof of anything.”

“Some more stories might reveal more about the locations of Fort Heaven,” Evon brought up.

“Are you suggesting you want to go investigate this ourselves?” Russet asked, sounding reasonably appalled.

“Well we already established that calling the police won’t do any good,” he argued.

“And getting us neck deep in cult territory is a good idea?”

“What else can we do?”

Russet threw his hands up. “I don’t know!”

Willow stepped forward and spoke up, “I’ll join Fort Heaven.”

The two men went silent and Yasmine’s jaw slightly dropped. Willow remained firm despite the boldness of the statement.

“Y-you can’t,” Russet finally responded.

“Why not?” she shrugged. “They don’t know me and I can see from the inside if they had anything to do with Nichole and her mom going missing.”

“It’ll be hard to find that out,” Evon mentioned with a soft tone.

“I’ll get it out of someone. I’ll even wear a hidden camera so I can get firsthand footage,” Willow offered, “It will be great for your story.”

“We can’t ask that of you!” Yasmine frowned.

“You didn’t. I volunteered.”

The three looked between each other—exchanging concerned glances.

“Will you do it whether we accept your offer or not?” Evon asked once they had all, silently, made up their minds.

Willow nodded stiffly.

“Then we’ll help however we can.”

***

The sun rose the next morning as the trio helped Willow with the small equipment she would need while she was on her own. It was all new to her so Russet broke everything down into the basics. Evon had some second thoughts but he couldn’t do anything to stop her and he knew that. If he was in her shoes, he’d be doing the same thing.

Yasmine was already on her phone, searching for more ex Fort Heaven members. Not many—if any—ex members were active in any community. If there were any forums online, they were completely anonymous and if Yasmine wanted to find those people she would either have to find a hacker or learn to hack overnight.

“These glasses are very important,” Russet spoke to Willow as he handed over his one and only pair of spy glasses. They were a recent gift and extremely expensive because of the quality. Unless someone had studied the brand and product for a long time, no one would be able to tell that the glasses had a camera in them.

“I’ll wear them all the time,” she said with a nod and took them. When she put them on, her brow rose. “Wow they’re lighter than I thought they’d be.”

“Someone paid a lot of money for that kind of quality.”

“I got it—I won’t break them.” Willow gave him a weak smile.

“Please.” Russet smiled back before he gave her some cords, chargers, and small microphones. It was, more or less, all of the covert equipment he had with him.

After bookmarking a few pages, Yasmine tucked her phone away and walked toward the other woman. She was just a few years younger than her but she appeared almost like a teenager to Yasmine—inexperienced yet gung-ho.

“Do you know where to go?”

Willow looked up at her with big eyes. “I think so.”

Yasmine sighed. “There’s a small recruitment center in the next town over. You’ll have to go there when they’re operational and be the perfect candidate for indoctrination.”

“Indoc…what?”

Russet silently laughed behind her but Yasmine shook her head. “Brain washing—basically. They will want to mold you to be exactly the way they want you to be and you have to come off as easily shaped if you want to go far.”

Willow took it all in before nodded. “I understand.”

“Do you need a ride?” Evon asked, feeling uneasy just letting her go like that.

“No,” she said, making his anxiety all the worse. “I can drive. Besides they may know about you already if they really did take Nichole and her mom because of this interview. It’s safest that I go alone.”

“She’s got a point there,” Russet said and reluctantly nodded.

“Alright…” Evon swallowed a lump that had manifested in his throat.

Willow smiled a little, looked between the three of them, and then turned to walk away before quickly turning back. “Thanks…for helping out and…giving me the equipment and all that.”

“Keep in contact with us. You don’t have to send whole messages but just an emoji text will do.” Russet spoke to her sternly—almost fatherly. It was hilarious to Evon but he wasn’t in the best mood to actually laugh about it.

“I will.”

Her hands shook but Willow centered herself. She walked away with confidence and, when she was out of sight, the weight of the past twenty four hours settled onto the shoulders of the remaining three.

“What the hell are we going to do…” Evon whispered as he placed a hand over his chest and rubbed against his skin. It did nothing for the heavy feeling but it was the only motion that distracted him.

“You got any leads?” Russet asked, turning to Yasmine.

“Hardly,” she answered honestly. “We’ll have to figure out how to track anonymous messages. I’m sure it’s possible but I’m not sure how to go about it…”

Surprisingly, Russet grinned. “I’ve got that covered.”

“You can hack into something anonymous?” Evon asked, impressed.

“Of course. Now, I can’t exactly tell you who sent it but I can figure out exactly where it was sent from.” He was prepared to get to work so he started up his laptop immediately.

Evon crouched on one side of Russet while Yasmine pulled up the pages on her phone to show to the man on the computer. Once he started typing, she leaned over with her hands on her knees—eager to see what the process would look like.

Together they read through a thread of unreal Fort Heaven stories from people who had, supposedly, run away. For some it was clear that the person behind the faceless icon was a troll—just trying to pick fights or delegitimize the real stories of victims.

Then there was a long, interesting message after a few pages.

“Fort Heaven killed me. I may as well be dead anyway. My family, my friends (what little I had) were all sacrificed to this beast. It devours everything—anything—until you’re nothing but bones. If anyone is thinking of joining—even for fun—do not do it. They will kill you.

My soul was crushed in that place. I can’t leave my house. I can’t sleep. I can’t even think without them being there. It’s been some time since they’ve come after me and it seems they no longer know my location.

I fear for my remaining life every second of every day. Each moment is agonizing but I can’t kill myself because I know they’ll get my body. They’ll take it back to that hellhole and degrade me one last time.”

They read the message in silent unison before Yasmine spoke up. “It’s not specific but I’d imagine this person knows a hell of a lot more than Cindy did.”

“I doubt someone this damaged would be willing to talk to us,” Russet said. He personally wanted the writing to be fake.

“We need this kind of inside information if we want to help anyone that’s stuck in there,” she responded passionately, “If we don’t know what these people are capable of then we’ll just be swept away.”

Russet turned in his chair, almost knocking Evon out (who moved just in time) to stare up at the woman. “When did this become a mission to rescue people?”

“Since we may have gotten people kidnapped!” she snapped.

“Stop!” Evon yelled and pulled himself up with the side of Russet’s chair. “It’s not a necessity, Yasmine.”

His friend looked at him with clear disappointment but before she could say anything to him, he continued.

“If Russet wants to go home then he can. We can’t force him to do this with us.”

Yasmine looked down and nodded—both relieved that Evon was in fact on her side and also embarrassed that she had roped Russet into something he was never supposed to be majorly involved in anyway.

“Sorry,” she said. “Russet, do what you want.”

The man looked between them and slowly looked more and more upset. “Well now I’d seem like a heartless dick if I left.”

“No,” Yasmine assured him, “There’s no reason for you--”

“I’m going with you,” Russet interrupted her. “I’ll find this IP address and come with you. I can’t leave the two of you to do this on your own.”

Evon smiled at him even if the man was paying no attention to him. He knew Russet didn’t care about his reputation so it wasn’t really about that. He was actually worried about them—he’d just never admit it.

“Thanks,” Evon said softly.

Russet turned his chair to face him and sighed. “Yeah, whatever. If I don’t stay then the two of you will end up doing something really stupid. I can feel it.”

“But now you’ll be here to stop us,” he responded, still grinning.

“I’ll keep everything from going to shit…I hope anyway.”

“It is appreciated,” Yasmine mumbled.

Russet said nothing back to her but she hadn’t been expecting anything. He simply went to typing and clicking on a variety of sub windows until a small box appeared on the screen with information about the anonymous message. It told them the exact time and date of the post, some other number that maybe Russet knew and the other two certainly didn’t, and then there was the IP.

“Got it,” Russet sighed in relief. He switched the window to look up the number and found a location.

Quickly, Yasmine wrote it down and then noticed the state listed. Her small burst of excitement was deflated. “This is going to take days to get to.”

They all looked between each other before Russet said, “Guess we’d better get going then.”

#fort heaven #my novel #writeblr #lgbt writers

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maooids · 2 years ago

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In addition to the whole mom thing I’m suspecting that the pharmacy is lying to me about their computers not working and they just are refusing to give me my estradiol

#i don’t have any proof of this but my mom’s friend recently started working at this pharmacy and I’m pretty sure she’s behind this #i really hope not tho #personal

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nugnthopkns · 3 years ago

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i wish i could disappear

word count: 3.6k

warnings: explicit!fem reader, cursing, feelings of anxiety due to social media harassment, invasion of privacy that border on stalking

recommended listening: brutal | olivia rodrigo

series masterpost: here

a/n: and we're off to the races!! i love this album and olivia so much. there's a shoutout to goon by tobias jesso jr. in here bc it's my favourite album to cry to lmao (highly recommend giving it a listen!). i'm on the fence about this one but am posting it anyways because i don't think i can make it any better

How the fuck do people find your social media?

All of your accounts are private and Kevin makes sure to never tag you on the rare occasion he posts a picture of the two of you together. The wives and girlfriends who have public accounts make sure to never post about you, and you’re careful not to comment on posts often. You’re a private person and though you understand that due to the nature of your relationship with Kevin you intrigue some fans, you don’t want to give them more than you have to.

Despite making no attempt to open up to the public or media, every day you wake up with hundreds of follow requests from complete strangers. At first it was a little exciting knowing that people were curious about your life but after years of the same routine it’s become draining. It takes you nearly twenty minutes each day to weed through them and accept only the people you know personally. Kevin doesn’t actually know how many people want to catch a glimpse of your daily life because you do your best to keep it from him. Knowing would only bring him stress, and you want him to be able to focus on winning games and loving you with his entire heart.

☼☼☼☼

The phone on your desk rings loudly, pulling your attention away from the computer screen that has way too many numbers on it for your liking. The finance department needed someone to proof their audit before sending it away and since you’re the only one in human relations that has a business degree the job landed on your shoulders. Eager to take a break, you pick it up and press the receiver against your ear.

“Hello?”

The voice on the other side laughs gently, but you immediately know it’s Kevin. “Hi sweetheart,” he says warmly, “How’s work?”

“Fine I guess. It’s work, Kev. Nothing terribly exciting happens here,” you explain but continue to fill him in on all the coffee pot gossip you got this morning. Kevin listens as you complain about forgetting your lunch on the counter and chuckles at how upset the situation makes you.

“What if I told you I’m outside your window with a burrito bowl?”

Excited at the possibility of seeing your boyfriend before dinnertime, you whip towards the window and spot Kevin on the sidewalk, waving like an idiot despite knowing your office is on the fifth floor. You hang up quickly after telling him you’ll be down in two minutes and let the receptionist know you’re stepping out for lunch. There’s a line for the elevator so you head to the stairwell, taking them two at a time in your haste. You’re crossing the street to the small park where Kevin has set up a picnic before your co-workers are even out the door.

You plop down on the blanket beside Kevin and lean into him. He presses a sweet kiss to your forehead before passing you the food he brought. You take a bite, sighing at the taste. Kevin knows you better than you know yourself and knew exactly what to get that would satisfy your mounting hunger.

“Thanks babe,” you smile, holding up your fork and offering him a bite. He takes it graciously but makes a face. “What’s the matter?” you laugh as you take the utensil back.

“I fucking hate avocado.”

The two of you eat in relative silence, speaking only when you remember a detail from your morning. Kevin tells you about the drills he’s going to lead at practice in the afternoon and what he plans on cooking for dinner since he’ll be home before you. You insist you can whip something up when you get home but Kevin shakes his head. He reminds you that relationships are give and take, and that you’ve made dinner the past three nights because he had a string of games. You manage to reach a compromise that has you doing the dishes before you have to return to work.

Kevin insists on walking you back to your office even though you protest vehemently. Your relationship is far from secret, and has been the topic of workplace gossip more times than you can count, but after five years you’ve learned to ignore most of it. However, you don’t want your co-workers to think you flaunt your NHL player boyfriend to prove you’re better than them. They all love Kevin, and a couple of them congratulate him on last night’s goal as he follows you down the hall. A few of the newer hires stare in awe and shake his hand, completely blown away that one of Philadelphia’s biggest stars is asking how they like their jobs.

“Pretty soon they’re going to approach you to do PR for us,” you chuckle as you flip the light on and close the door of your office.

His laughter echoes off the walls as a pair of strong arms find a home around your waist. “It would be kind of fun to hear myself crush those radio commercials.”

“Since when do you listen to the radio?”

“Checkmate,” Kevin sighs, pulling you closer. He kisses you quickly, not wanting to give a show to anyone who could be walking past, but it still sends you reeling. You don’t want him to pull away and kiss him again.

You get your way for a few more moments and then Kevin’s leaving with a promise to not burn the house down and wishes for a good rest of the day. Focussed on giving the audit its final once-over you don’t bother pulling your phone from the drawer you had placed it in when you got to work that morning. You turn up the small radio at the corner of your desk and get to work scanning the document for errors. There’s a mistake halfway through that skews the rest of the data and fixing it takes a bit of time, but it isn’t a huge deal. You have nothing else to do except answer a few emails and organize meetings for after the weekend.

An hour or so later you’ve completed all your tasks and debate what to do. It’s too early to leave for the day, so you decide to kill time by checking your phone. You’re expecting a few notifications, perhaps two or three memes in the group chat you share with your friends, but not the hundreds that greet you.

The majority of them are instagram notifications, and assuming they’re just more fans requesting a follow you ignore them, instead heading to your text messages. There’s a picture from Kevin of a dog he found walking home and another from your mom asking why you haven’t called home in a few weeks. However the one from Claude’s wife is the one that piques your curiosity.

Just a heads up that someone posted a pic of you and Kev to one of those stupid wag pages. I filed a request for Instagram to take it down but it’s gotten a lot of traction. Sorry :((

Your heartbeat increases rapidly and a million thoughts fly through your head at a rapid speed. Fingers shaking, you respond with a thanks and open up the dreaded app. You don’t see it immediately, your feed being full of photos belonging to friends and family, but it’s in your messages almost two hundred times. Many of them have text attached and you know there will be a comment about your relationship regardless of which one you open.

Tapping on the most recent message you brace yourself for the worst. The new window opens a photo someone took of you and Kevin while eating lunch in the park across from your office not even three hours prior. It’s grainy and the camera angle is strange, but you’re eating and Kevin is looking somewhere out of frame. The accompanying caption reads Kev and his girlfriend out for lunch today! Follow @philllywagupdates for more :).

You let out a sigh of relief – it could have been a lot worse. Personal pictures of yourself have made it onto pages like that before and most of them they’re paired with mean-spirited captions about your appearance or other trivial matters. Assuming you’re in the clear, you head back to the page of the original message to thank the person for bringing the post to your attention. However, the message accompanying the post is anything but positive.

He can’t even fucking look at you. It’s only a matter of time before he leaves you

The blood in your veins runs cold. You know it’s not true – Kevin’s made it clear you’re the one and truthfully you’re just waiting for a ring – but it doesn’t stop the sting you feel. What could possess someone to say such horrible things? You decide not to respond despite, possibly opening another can of worms with the seen function, and close the app. Leaning back in your office chair you focus on anything but your phone, looking out the window at passersby while regaining your breath. It works for a while, but eventually not knowing what others said eats away at you. You go through every single message to see hundreds of similar comments to the first, with only a few saying they’re glad you’re happy or how posting the picture is a violation of your privacy.

By the time you’re finished your spirit has been crushed. However, it’s also an acceptable time to start the weekend – at least no one in the office will have to see you cry. Things are hastily packed into your bag and you wave a few quick goodbyes before once again taking the stairs. You curse yourself for deciding to walk to work that morning and set off in the direction of home wiping away tears. The last thing you need right now is for someone to recognize you, but you have to get home. Tobias Jesso Jr plays at much too loud a volume through your headphones and Kevin will most certainly remind you it’s bad for your hearing, but the melancholy piano riffs of Goon overpower the thoughts swirling around your head.

Do people really feel that way about me?

Are my friends just too nice to stop inviting me places?

Does Kevin really feel trapped?

Hundreds of similar sentiments and situations cross your mind as you stumble through the streets of downtown Philadelphia, but you force them as far back as possible before opening the door to the apartment you share with Kevin. Hoping to slip inside undetected, you take your shoes off slowly and throw your jacket on the end table instead of hanging it in the closet. Your plan fails somehow and Kevin hears you, greeting you in a goofy apron covered in flour.

“Hey sweetheart,” he smiles, but it drops once your eyes meet and he sees the hurt on your face. “What’s the matter?”

“It’s nothing,” you insist, trying to step around him in pursuit of the bathroom.

Kevin doesn’t buy it and sees right through your feeble words. “It’s not nothing if you’re this upset. If you don’t want to talk now that’s fine, but I think you should get it off your chest.”

You know he’s right, but you also know you can’t tell him the true cause of your despair. “Just some work stuff,” you sigh. “The audit got all fucked up and I had to fix it even though it’s not my job.”

It’s not technically a lie, which makes you feel better, and Kevin buys it. He presses a sweet kiss to your lips in sympathy. “Go take a shower and the gnocchi should be ready by the time you’re done. We can spend the night cuddling on the couch.”

“And watching Selling Sunset?”

“We can watch whatever you want sweetheart,” he chuckles. You part from him with a final kiss and head to the bathroom. Hopefully the steam from the water will carry away the negativity brought on by that damn post.

☼☼☼☼

Time passes but the hateful comments on social media don’t stop. In fact, you’re pretty sure they get worse. It’s so bad that you’ve deleted every app except facebook because you need it for work. Kevin doesn’t notice your abstinence from social media, but he picks up on how you spend more time criticizing yourself or staring off into space. When he pushes you either brush him off or feed some bullshit excuse about how work is getting you down. You know he doesn’t believe you but trusts you enough to come to him when you’re ready to talk.

You aren’t sure if you’ll ever be able to tell Kevin what’s been going on. There’s been scrutiny from social media before, when you first started dating, but it quieted down after the initial media frenzy. He helped you through that but it’s different this time around. Never before have you had strangers tell you your life is worthless or that your boyfriend should end your relationship. Some of the other wags notice your absence on instagram but chalk it up to you just taking a break. They reach out via the group chat and send wishes to see you at the next home game. It’s nice to know they care, but the voice in your head that has grown much larger in recent weeks tells you they don’t truly mean it. This leads you to decline the invite as politely as possible, citing extended work hours for your absence. In reality you’re too anxious to be anywhere that isn’t home or work, petrified someone is going to post something that will add fuel to the flames of those who interrogate you.

It’s another Friday afternoon, and you’re leaving the office early once again. There’s a small craft exhibition taking place around the corner from work and today is the last day it’s open. You had been meaning to go all week, hoping to find something small to add to Kevin’s birthday gift. As you step out of the building there’s a small group of young women, who don’t look old enough to have graduated college, standing off to the side. It fills you with dread, worried that somehow someone found out where you work and the insults are going to start occurring verbally, but you force yourself to be rational. You work fairly close to one of the artsier districts in the city and it’s more than likely they just want to find a cute mural to take pictures in front of.

You pass by and swear you hear them snicker, but you remind yourself you’ve just been jumpy lately. When they peel from their place on the wall and follow behind at a distance you think the coincidences are running out. It seems a little too strange how their movements line up with yours, and you go down a few winding side streets in an attempt to lose them. Part of you feels ridiculous because what group of barely legal girls would track a full-blown adult around a city of nearly two million people, but your life is currently strange enough you can’t be sure. They don’t follow you, and by the time you reach the market your heart rate has returned to normal.

The first few stalls have little to catch your eye, but a few rows in you find a leatherworker who makes adorable wallets. Kevin’s is ridiculously old and falling apart at the seams – his mom bought it for him before the two of you got together. You think a new one will make a perfect addition to the concert tickets you already bought and browse the table for something simple and elegant. A deep brown one with tan braiding around the edges catches your eye and you know it’s the one for Kevin. Checking the price to make sure you have enough cash in your wallet, you approach the shop owner to purchase. The older man has a kind smile that reaches his eyes as he thanks you for purchasing from him.

“No, thank you for making something so beautiful!” you gush. “My boyfriend is going to love it.”

It’s then you hear it – snickering accompanied by the click of a camera. You look over your shoulder to see the same group of girls from before laughing as they huddle over a cell phone, no doubt already starting to broadcast the photo across the internet. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes but you refuse to let them fall. Those girls don’t deserve to see their mission accomplished, but the longer they laugh at you the harder it is to swallow your feelings.

Head held high, you thank the owner one more time before holding your head high and walking past the group. The only way out is past them so you hold your breath and pray they don’t notice you. Unfortunately you aren’t that lucky, and one of them looks up just as you come into earshot.

“If Kevin doesn’t leave you after that sorry excuse for a gift I don’t know what’s wrong with him,” she sneers.

Another one chimes in, “You’re honestly so pathetic.” They all cackle in amusement, and you speed up. The tears flow freely now, and you call an uber even though it will be a ridiculous amount of money. You just want to get home.

The uber driver doesn’t say anything when you get in, though you know it’s strange to be bawling your eyes out at four in the afternoon. You can’t help it – weeks of keeping all the hate to yourself finally got to you and being followed with the sole intent of ridicule is the final straw. At one red light he silently passes you a box of tissues, which you accept gratefully.

Luckily the lobby of your apartment complex is empty and you manage to get to your floor without encountering a familiar face. There’s a few hours until Kevin gets home from his final roadtrip of the season, and if you play your cards right you can get all the tears out and be as normal as possible before he comes through the door. You don’t even bother to put anything away, just head straight to the bathroom to slump against the tub. Sobs rack your body and you lose all sense of time. All you can feel is the hurt you’ve been holding in releasing itself and soaking the material of your blouse.

Kevin finds you laying in the position hours later. He tripped over your shoes coming in the door and immediately knew something was wrong – you always place them neatly on the rack in the closet upon arriving home. Peering through the quiet house for a hint at where you are, he sees the bathroom light on and makes a beeline for the room. It breaks his heart to see you like this, and even more so because he doesn’t know what spurred it on.

“Sweetheart, hey,” he coos, maneuvering his body to sit beside you and pull you into his lap. “What’s the matter?”

You bury your head in his shoulder and clutch the material of his dress shirt as you cry harder at the sound of his voice. Kevin takes your reaction in stride, rubbing circles on your back and working on evening out your breath. He doesn’t pressure you to speak and provides the stability you desperately crave as the world around you spins. An unknown amount of time passes before your tears run out, but spend it all on the bathroom floor curled into Kevin.

“I guess I should have told you sooner,” you mumble, “But I didn’t want to bother you.”

Concern laces Kevin’s features and his eyebrows knit together. “Tell me what?”

“I, uh, have been the subject of some internet hate for the past little bit,” you say sheepishly. It feels stupid to not have told him now, but you can’t change that. “But you were really busy with the season and I wanted to make sure your head was completely focused on the game so I just dealt with it myself. I deleted the apps and tried my best to go about my life. And then today after work I was followed by some people and they said some really hurtful stuff and shit became a little too real.”

“I’m so fucking sorry.”

It’s your turn to be confused. “Why are you sorry Kev? You're Not the one sending me death threats.”

He tucks a loose strand of hair back into your ponytail. “Maybe not, but I still made you feel like you couldn’t talk to me about what was going on. What kind of partner am I?”

“The best one,” you say confidently. “It’s okay, I’m okay. I just want to forget about it right now. Can we just disappear for a little bit?”

Kevin wraps his arms around you tighter, as if he can engulf you to protect from the cruel outside world. “We can do whatever you want. If you want to get out of the city for a bit if you want, or just spend the next few days here away from prying eyes.”

“I love you.”

You say it because you mean it, and if you could scream it from the rooftops you would. Kevin is incredibly easy to love, even when you make it difficult for him to love you back. You know another much longer conversation is coming about everything that has happened recently because communication is the only way to solve problems and Kevin deserves that, but you’re thankful he’s willing to put it to rest for a few more moments.

He cracks a smile for the first time since he’s been home and kisses the crown of your head. “I love you too sweetheart,” he whispers, “Always and forever.”

Things are far from over and though you still never want to show your face in public ever again, you know that Kevin is going to do whatever he can to make things better and that’s enough for you.

☼☼☼☼

taglist: @ricohenrique @tortito @boqvistsbabe @iwantahockeyhimbo @himbos-on-ice @2manytabsopen if you want to be added just shoot me an ask :)

#i don't love this but here it is!!!#one day i'll like the stories i write #kevin hayes imagine #kevin hayes x reader #kevin hayes fic #philadelphia flyers imagine #nhl imagine #nhl fic #hockey imagine #hockey fic #cwrites #sour

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miraculous-sunflower · 4 years ago

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science teachers ARE cool

Mrs. Mendeleiev’s POV

Beatrice Mendeleiev sighed. She did not like the fact that Marinette Dupain-Cheng was expelled without proof, and that Lila’s parents did not come when she was supposedly pushed down the stairs. She tried to get Mr. Damocles, another fool, to look at the security cameras during Miss Dupain-Cheng’s expulsion, but he denied, saying that if she wouldn’t stop badgering him, he would fire her. She reluctantly obliged, though secretly thinking that the school didn’t even have cameras, because of course the principal used the funds from the mayor to buy his foolish “hero costume”. Ms. Mendeleiev kinda liked Marinette Dupain-Cheng, even if she came into science class late every time. She was a good student, getting straight A’s, and her family made the best pastries in Paris, though she knew pastries weren’t even relevant in this incident. She knew she had to help out Miss Dupain-Cheng. Even if she got fired from her job, it was okay. She didn’t like her job very much, as everyone here was a fool, and she could find another job somewhere else, but it was her job, as a teacher, to protect her students. _______________________________________________________________________

Ms. Mendeleiev scoured the internet, trying to find the Italian Embassy’s number. She heard Lie-la -oops i mean Lila- talking about how her mother was a diplomat, so she had to get in contact with her to tell her all about her daughter’s antics - if she knew. She finally found the number, and dialed.

“Hello, what can I help you with?” the person on the other line asked. “Hello, I’m Beactrice Mendeleiev, and I’m trying to get in touch with Lucia Rossi?” Ms. Mendeleiev questioned.

“Actually, I’m Lucia Rossi. I’m the secretary of the Italian Embassy. What do you need?” Heh, another thing Lila was lying about. Her mother was the secretary. Still must be hard work.

“I’m actually your daughter Lila’s science teacher, and I was wondering about all of Lila’s absences and missing assignments. I questioned her about it, and she said she couldn’t do her assignments because of her arthritis and many other disabilities she has.” Ms. Mendeleiev stayed up all night, trying to come up with the perfect story to seem like she was calling for something besides exposing Lila.

“Arthritis? Disabilities? Lila doesn’t have any disabilities? And absences? Are you sure she said that?” Mrs. Rossi was very surprised. Perfect. Ms. Mendeleiev grinned.

Lucia Rossi’s POV

The other woman on the other line was too surprised. Disabilities? Lila didn't have any disabilities. She was a healthy little girl, her little bambina. Was her baby spouting lies? She doubted it. Perhaps this teacher didn’t properly hear her.

“Yes, I’m sure, and on top of all her disabilities, she said that she has a lying disease which causes her to lie, by accident. She said this one a fellow classmate of hers, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, apparently pushed her down the stairs. Marinette did no such thing, and the expulsion was reversed. If you don’t believe me, take a look on the LadyBlog. It was a blog dedicated to the Heroes of Paris, but now your daughter’s face is plastered on it. If I had a daughter, I’d never want her to be bragging about her accomplishments!”

Mrs. Rossi was shocked when she said lying disease. She looked at the “World’s Best Mom” cup on her desk. Lila gave it to her when the school apparently “shut down”. Was her little bambina lying this whole time? And blog?

“LYING DISEASE?!?! I have to call the school. What has this girl been doing? Also, I want to hear more about her absences.”

“I can help you set up an appointment with Mr. Damocles. As for her absences, Lila has been claiming that the Prince of Achu, Prince Ali, has invited you and Lila personally to visit the kingdom for 2 months. Were you not there?” Ms. Mendeleiev sounded confused. Oh dear, it sounded like she also fell for her daughter’s lies.

“ACHU? 2 MONTHS? Lila told me that the school was closed for 2 months because Ladybug and Chat Noir were too incompetent to defeat the akumas!” Mrs. Rossi exclaimed. Now here, she understood. Her daughter told her that the school was closed down, and her teachers that she was traveling, to get out of going to school! She could get in trouble for truancy for that!

“I assure you, Ladybug and Chat Noir are not incopetent. They usually take care of an akuma in less than 3 hours. “Oh, this is a lot to take in right now. I’m sorry, but Lila lied about everything. Thank you for calling me, I really appreciate it. I’ll come by the school this week.” Mrs. Rossi finally breathed out.

“I’m glad I did. Clearly, you were not informed of this, and Lila was lying about everything this whole time!” Mrs. Rossi showed a little smile, but it quickly went away. Before she hung up, she had to ask-

“Before I go, was there anything else Lila said?”

“She said that she saved Jagged Stone’s kitten off an airplane tarmac, and that she knows Clara Nightingale. She also said she’s best friends with Ladybug. Now that I think about it, she probably framed Marinette to get her expelled, now that I know she lied about having a lying disease.”

Saving kittens? Being best friends with pop stars? Best friends with a superhero? She could get sued for all the stories she’s spouted! And if these stories were heard at the embassy, she could get fired! Oh that girl...

“Oh my goodness, I will have to apologize to Miss Dupain-Cheng on behalf of my daughter. Thank you again, Ms. Mendeleiev.”

Sure enough, later that day, the mother searched up the LadyBlog, and of course, her daughter’s face was there, next to the headline, “I’m BFF’s with Ladybug’s BFF!”. She sighed. She was going to expose her daughter for the liar she is, because her daughter fooled the whole school, not to mention hurt one of her other classmates!

Mrs. Mendeleiev’s POV

After the call ended, Ms. Mendeleiev smirked. Lie-la will have no idea what’s coming to her now. __________________________________________________________________________________

Marinette’s POV

“Me and Clara Nightingale are sooo close, that we’re practically sisters! I helped her with most of her dance moves for her newest music video!” Lila bragged.

“OMG girl! That’s amazing!” Alya exclaimed.

“Wow, Lila, you have a heart of gold!” Rose and Mylene gushed.

“So awesome.” Juleka mumbled.

Marinette rolled her eyes. They were talking about Lila as if she was a saint, though they probably did. She was sketching out a new design, and it was Rena Rouge inspired. Alya, Marinette thought. Her and Alya were still friends, but they were a lot more distant. All of her friends were like that. She thought about Adrien for a second, and then quickly dismissed the thought. Adrien was irrelevant, at this point. He gave her that stupid piece of advice, take the high road, and basically got mad if she did anything to prove Lila wrote if the witch spouted another lie. Her crush on him was long gone, which gave her more time to focus on her guardian work.

Marinette continued sketching her design, but then suddenly, she heard a faint but sharp, “Miss Dupain-Cheng?” She looked over to where the voice came from. Ms. Mendeleiev was signaling her to come outside. This is it, she metally scolded herself. You came to class late too many times. She’s gonna call Maman and Papa, and tell them you’re late every day, and they will try to find out what’s up, and then they’ll figure out you're Ladybug, and then they’ll forbid you from fighting akumas, and then Hawkmoth will win, AND PARIS WILL BE DOOMED! She silently walked out of the classroom.

“Hello, Miss Dupain-Cheng. You’re probably wondering why I called you outside, but don’t worry, you are not in trouble. This is regarding Miss Lila Rossi.” Ms. Mendeleiev said.

Marinette was shocked at first, then nervous. “Ms. Mendeleiev, I can assure you, whatever Lila said isn’t true! She lies with-”

“Every breath she takes. I know.” The science teacher cut in. “I called her mother recently, and she too had no idea about Lila’s antics. She will be coming in today to discuss with Ms. Bustier and Mr. Damocles, and I can assure you, she will be exposed for who she truly is.”

Marinette was stunned. Her science teacher knew that Lila was lying? She was sure that she was in trouble. Marinette blinked, “Wow, that’s a lot to take in, but thank you. This means a lot to me, Ms. Mendeleiev.” She was grateful for her teacher.

Mrs. Mendeleiev smiled. “I truly do not like liars either, so it was very tempting. I see that none of your other classmates or teacher has figured out she was spinning a tale this whole time, have they?”

Marinette thought for a second, and said, “There is one who knows. It’s Adrien, Adrien Agreste. He knew, but he thinks avoiding conflict makes it go away. He told me to take the high road.”

“Really? That certainly wasn’t good advice. Avoiding conflict isn’t going to make it go away. It will only cause more chaos. Anyways, I have to go, Miss Dupain-Cheng. Have a good day.” Ms. Mendeleiev concluded.

“Have a good day as well!” Marinette said. “Wait,” she started. Ms. Mendeleiev turned around and looked at her. “Ms. Mendeleiev, is there any way I can be moved into your class?”

“I’m not sure, but after this, I’m hoping that the leadership and staff at this school will improve after this incident. Now, run along, or you will be late for class.” Ms. Mendeleiev waved.

Marinette walked back to Mrs. Bustier’s room, feeling much more optimistic than she had 10 minutes ago. _______________________________________________________________________

In Ms. Bustier’s classroom, they were learning about authors of the world, and were taking turns saying who their-

“LILA ALEXANDRIA ROSSI! WHAT ARE THESE STORIES YOU’VE BEEN SPOUTING?!” A woman who looked like a much older Lila burst into the room. Marinette straight out smirked.

“Mama! It’s not what you-” Lila started.

“Not what I think? You know what I think? I think you’ve been lying to me this entire time! You’ve misplaced my trust, taking me for a fool! Saying that the schools were closed because Ladybug and Chat Noir were too incompetent to take care of them! Saying that you took a 2 month vacation at the Kingdom of Achu! Saying that you know all these pop stars! You realise I can lose my job if your stories wound up at the embassy! Non cercare di scappare via.” Her mother yelled.

Alya became mad. “What do you mean, she said Ladybug and Chat Noir are incompetent? Ladybug is Lila’s best friend!”

Lila’s face was panicked. She knew that if she spun the right tale she could weasel out...

Lucia Rossi took a breath and said, “I’m afraid my daughter has been lying to you all. Everything she said was fake. I’m sorry on her behalf. Also, may I speak to Marinette Dupain-Cheng?” A girl with dark blue pigtails and bright bluebell eyes raised her hand. “I’m so sorry, Miss Dupain Cheng. I wasn’t aware that my daughter framed you to get you expelled. I hope you are doing well.”

Marinette looked at her kindly. “Thank you for the apology, Mrs. Rossi, but please don’t feel bad. You weren’t the cause of this, and you certainly didn’t know.” Lila’s look she aimed at Marinette was murderous.

“Thank you, Miss Dupain-Cheng. Lila, come on. You should be happy you aren’t sued for slander and use of name.” The mother barked out at Lila.

“No, mama! They are under a spell! They are lying! DOn’t listen to them! I never said anything about traveling to Achu, or being best friends with Ladybug!” Lila knew she could get out, of course she could.

“NO LILA! YOU ARE LYING. YOUR SCIENCE TEACHER SHOWED ME THIS BLOG, AND IT HAS ALL OF YOUR FALSE CLAIMS ON IT! DON’T EVEN TRY TO WIGGLE OUT IF THIS MESS YOU CAUSED!’ An akuma showed up, and was heading toward Mrs. Rossi.

“CoMe HeRe, little akuma!” Lila sung. She deliberately tried to grab for the akuma, only to be stopped by a particular bluenette. Marinette pushed Lila over and trapped the akuma in a jar, and placed it on a desk.

“Why am I not surprised? Of course you are working with a well-known terrorist. LILA! HOW STUPID ARE YOU?!” Her mother screamed at her.

Lila was so mad, and wanted to rip that goody-two shoes apart.”YOU!” she began at the bluenette, “You ruined everything! Everything was going so well, all these sheep believed me, and Adrien was so close to being mine! You went and ruined it!” She stomped over to Marinette, and was about to slap her, until…

Alya’s hand gripped Lila’s arm so tight, there were marks. “Because of you, my blog is ruined. What’s even worse, is that you ruined my friendship with my best friend.”

“Well, it’s not my fault you didn’t fact check. You ARE a terrible reporter.” Lila smirked, but was pulled by the arm of her mother.

They left, and Marinette’s classmates immediately surrounded her, begging her, yelling out apologies, and saying how sorry they were for not believing her. “While none of you directly hurt me, it really did hurt that none of my friends had my back,” she looked at Adrien, who looked guilty, “or even believed me! You believed a girl with crazy stories over me, your friend. It’s going to take time for me to trust you all again, but I’d like to build up our friendship again.” She finished.

“We understand, Marinette. We are so sorry!” Rose cried. “Not cool what she did…” Juleka mumbled. “Girl, I’m so sorry. I should’ve researched her claims, I’m a horrible friend and reporter,” Alya concluded sadly.

“While you didn’t research her claims, the snake is very convincing,” Marinette said. “Just remember in the future, take the word of the friend you trust the most.”

Ms. Mendeleiev smiled at the scene. She was secretly watching after she came from the principal’s office. Mr. Damocles and Ms. Bustier were fired by the school board because of their incapability to control a lying student. Mr. Damocles was also charged with a fine for using school funds for personal gain, and Ms. Bustier was lectured because of her insisting that “bullies will become better people if you let them get away with everything”. Ms. Mendeleiev was now Principal Mendeleiev, as she was promoted.

Beatrice Mendeleiev chuckled to herself. “Well, Lie-la Rossi. You didn’t get away with your tricks. No matter what, I will always protect my students. And possibly get promoted while at it.”

#lila exposed #lila salt #ms. mendeleiev #class salt #adrien salt #but very little

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cocobear137 · 3 years ago

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⇽⋯⋆ Powerful Separation ⋆⋯⇾

Bakugou Katsuki x reader one-shot

"Find me if you can!" yelled a young Bakugou.

"Easy as whipped cream on pumpkin pie," Y/N smirked with pure confidence in her voice.

The five-year-old young ash-blond child ran into the woods looking for a place to hide from his equally clever friend. Even as a kid, the kids were sharp-minded but still acted like brats. Bakugou ran into a large tree by a flowing stream with its roots arching well arching out of the ground. Previously, the boy has used sticks, fallen leaves, and grass to make a make-shift shelter. He found it a perfect place to hide while his friend ran around the woods in an attempt to catch him.

"Hehe," Bakugou giggled, hearing Y/N's footsteps run past him.

"Found you!" Bakugou jumped as Y/N poked her head in his nature-made fort. "You're so easy to find."

"Not fair! You probably used your quirk!" Bakugou said while crawling

"You don't know that! I'm just better than you."

"No! I'm the #1. So, I'm better!"

"Ha! Says the one who can't find me in under ten minutes."

"Why you!"

The children started fighting. Bakugou set off small explosions causing smoke to surround little Y/N. The girl just stood there with a smirk accepting her friend's blows. Just discovering her quirk days ago, Y/N didn't yet know how powerful she is. Without thinking, Y/N attempted to clear the smoke. But with the smoke gone, so was some plant life, leaving a dirt clearing and her friend missing.

"Ah! Bakugou where did you go!" Y/N frantically searched for her friend.

"Ugh..." The boy groaned. His body was thrown straight into the tree where he now laid.

"Bakugou!" The girl ran to aid him. The boy raised his arm and reached behind to touch the back of his head. And when his hand came back to his line of sight, blood was there. Bright and warm. Before he could even speak, his senses faded as he passed out.

Y/N, in her state of panic, ran with Bakugou on her back, back to his house. His mom called an ambulance. Bakugou got treated and checked, but his parents weren't happy. Y/N didn't mean for Bakugou to get hurt, but his parents didn't want her near their child. Reason being; her quirk. It was far too dangerous, and Y/N couldn't control it. Bakugou's parents informed Y/N parents of the incident. To say they were upset was an understatement.

"Y/N, what were you thinking?!?" Her mother screamed. Y/N just sat at the dinner table, hanging her head low. Her father wasn't home from work yet. But when he does get back, Y/N will receive more than just a lecture.

"I-I didn't m-mean it," Y/N said.

"You hurt somebody. You're lucky it was just a simple blow to the head that didn't cause any permanent head trauma." Y/N's mother signed, rubbing her temples. "Wait until your father gets home-."

"I'm home. What happened now?" Speak of the devil. Y/N's father entered the room tired and frustrated with the call he got earlier that day. Ever since his daughter got her powerful quirk, his task is to train her. The problem is, he never had enough energy at the end of the day.

"Your daughter caused some trouble." the girl's mother spoke.

"What kind of trouble?" the man in the doorway questioned with a quirked eyebrow.

"She injured a boy while out playing with him."

"Really, now." Y/N's father stepped closer to the girl. His tall and intimidating figure made the girl stink in her seat.

"She is getting too powerful and is harming others."

"Guess we have to send her away, (Mother's name)."

"I'm afraid so."

◃⋯⋯⋯▹

After all these years, I still remember the day my life fell apart. People know that each generation is stronger than the last. I was proof of that. Because of the accident, my parents sent me away to a facility for kids like me. They lied when they said, "We will treat her well." At only the age of five, I was abandoned by my parents just because of my quirk. Quirks. The main problem in this society.

Now, the present-day, I sit on a high rooftop watching my childhood friend arrest a measly criminal that just robbed a convenience store. Bakugou certainly has grown to be a fine-looking man. Too bad, I would've loved to talk to him again. But a hero and a villain in the same room don't happen outside of a police station or prison.

Ever since I escaped from the facility, I became a villain and just eliminated people for fun or when I was paid. Watching Bakugou was entertaining, but recently he was trying to catch me. Before he couldn't find me in ten minutes, wonder how long it will take him this time?

"Damn it!" I hear Bakugou yell. He and another hero sat on the roof below me.

"Don't sweat it, bro. You've got weeks to catch that villain." Red Riot said.

"I know."

"So then, what's bothering you?"

"Nothing."

"You can talk to me. what's going on in that head of yours."

"This villain is the most difficult one I've come across in my years out in the field. I have no clues or any leads on her. What's worse is that the only photo of her reminds me of my childhood friend."

"The one that disappeared?"

"Yeah, that one."

"The last time I saw her was when she accidentally used her quirk and hurt me."

"Sounds like you cared for a girl."

"Ugh! Of course, I cared for a girl like her!"

"Did you like her~?"

"..."

"You liked her didn't you!"

"I was young!"

"I'm joking. Anyway, I got to get back to patrol. Have a good night Bakubro."

"What did I say about calling me that!"

With that, Red Riot left and Bakugou was left alone on the roof with his thoughts. My mind was running as well. Bakugou, the tough kid known with a powerful quirk, liked me. How? We were only kids. And it's been years since we were kids. Years since I last talked to him.

"Hey... Bakugou."

"Y/N?"

➜✉ This is one of my longer writing but I hope you still enjoyed this one-shot. Thank you so much for reading!

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entertainment · 4 years ago

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Entertainment Spotlight: Cree Cicchino

This summer, actress Cree Cicchino will star in Netflix feature The Sleepover, which follows two siblings who discover the secret past life of their seemingly normal mom. She also returns to her role in Netflix’s Mr. Iglesias, namely that of the smart student Marisol Fuentes who works three jobs alongside her school work. Born in New York and raised in Queens, Cree landed her first role at just 13 with Babe Carano in Nickelodeon’s hit live-action gaming sitcom Game Shakers. Cree took the time to chat with us about acting, activism, and more. Check it out:

In Mr. Iglesias, you returned to the role of Marisol Fuentes. What do you enjoy about returning to a role you’ve played before?

Doing series work is always comforting for that reason exactly; getting to return to a character you’ve played before. Being a bit more comfortable and confident in your character and the project and how the two mesh together, there’s more freedom I think to play and try different things.

Similar to Marisol, you have also juggled work with school, having landed your first role at 13—what advice would you give to Marisol, or indeed kids who want to start out?

I have no place giving any advice to Marisol (that girl is a superhero!) But for kids who want to start out in the industry, and will have to balance work and school, I’d say appreciate getting to be a student. The industry can exciting and hectic, and sometimes unkind. Funnily enough, your time doing schoolwork can be the most peaceful bit of normality. It might seem like an extra workload now, (and it is) but I promise you’ll be sad when it’s ending. I just graduated high school and I’m very mushy about the whole thing. Try to appreciate it while you’ve got it!

You're involved with the Black Lives Matter movement. What advice would you give to someone who wants to get involved with advocacy but doesn't know where to start?

If you want to get involved with advocacy and the Black Lives Matter/Anti-Racism movement, all I can really suggest is to seek out and listen to Black advocates, activists, and educators. As white and non-Black people who want to get involved, we must follow the guidance of the Black leaders of this movement.

Can you tell us about a time when you changed your opinion about something when you learned new information?

I think there are too many to count. I’m grateful to be in a generation built on growth, learning and an explosion of conversation and education. My ideas and opinions, whether political, social, or economic, are always growing as I learn. And they should be! It’s a gift to be corrected. It’s a gift to find you’re wrong. Changed opinions and new ideas mean we’re moving forward; that’s the only way to go.

The Sleepover is about a parent who has had a previous life as a thief and is now living in witness protection. What would you do if you found out your parents had been keeping a similar secret from you?

It would take a ridiculous amount of time and proof to convince me that my mom had a secret past life as a professional thief. I wouldn’t be mad or confused; I would just literally never believe her. That movie would be far less interesting than this one.

Can you tell us a bit about your character Mim in The Sleepover?

Mim is one of the four kids trying to solve the mystery of Clancy’s mom and her secret past. On this adventure, she is one of the only people appropriately terrified of everything going on.

Malin Akerman and Ken Marino also star in The Sleepover, what was it like to work with them? Are there any fun anecdotes or things you learned from them?

Working with Ken and Malin was a dream. I was a huge fan of the both of them before shooting began, so it was a crazy surprise to see they had been cast. They are two of the sweetest and funniest people I’ve had the pleasure of working with. Watching them every day was just soaking in so much talent. The entire cast spent like two days, towards the beginning of the shoot, in front of a green screen doing the wildest stuff. It was quite the bonding experience; definitely a memorable anecdote from taping.

How do you practice being an ally, and how do you take action?

I’ve learned recently that “ally” can be a harmful word, as it implies ally-ship is a noun; a title that’s earnable and reachable. When really, practicing anti-racism should be (and is) a life-long, ever-evolving practice. I’ve really just started learning about the work, and aside from educating myself and taking personal action steps (petition signing, emailing, making calls etc.…) I’m trying to use my online platform to spread awareness and amplify the voices of black speakers and educators who must be heard right now.

What are you currently playing on repeat?

Lizzo. Morning, noon, and night.

Mr. Iglesias is a fun teacher with a lot of humor. Did you have a favorite teacher in school?

Yes! Ms. Salamone in Queens, NY. I’ll never forget. She taught me how to love learning. She was the first teacher to make me feel smart and capable. I’ve got a lot of love for her.

How do you approach tough conversations with friends and family, and why is it important to have conversations that make us uncomfortable?

Of course, I can only speak to non-Black and white people wanting to do the work. So in that regard, it is our responsibility to be a part of this fight. This is truly our mess to clean, and a big part of this work is having tough conversations with people in our own circles. That can seem scary, and it’s incredibly uncomfortable, but when you really let the truth of our responsibility in this movement sink in, conversations of this sort become less daunting, and their necessity is clear.

Staying as calm as possible and being firm is the most efficient approach, I think. And when we have these conversations (and this is something I recently learned and must apply going forward), we need to try and point out the toxicity of our privilege, and the racism we’ve internalized that’s allowed us to sit and debate something that should never be debatable.

If you went back to school as a teacher, what kind of teacher would you want to be ?

Definitely some kind of English or Lit teacher. It was always my favorite class as a student.

What have your singing and dancing experiences taught you that it has come in useful for your work as an actor?

Having dance in my back pocket has been incredibly useful in my acting work thus far. Almost every project I’ve done has had me dance in one way or another. It’s really fun to be able to apply it when asked to.

If you could have any other job, what would it be and why?

I’ve always loved writing! If I had never begun acting, I definitely would have been trying to write professionally by now in some way.

What gives you hope?

To hype up my generation one more time, I think we’re a really energized and educated bunch. We’re having necessary conversations; we’re politically involved and socially aware. We’ve such a long way to go. But I don’t think my generation is one to shy away from the work. There are so many incredible leaders my age; all of whom I look up to immensely. I have real faith in us young people. That gives me hope.

Thanks for taking the time, Cree! Mr. Iglesias is now streaming on Netflix, and The Sleepover premieres later this summer.

Photo: JSquared Photography

#entertainment spotlight #cree cicchino #the sleepover

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onceuponaloonatic · 3 years ago

Note

How did 3na rekindle their relationship? Thank you in advance and have an amazing day/night!

sorry this took a while !! i'm the only person with a car in my friend group so i play chauffeur a lot so i've been exhausted from helping other people move but i finally got this done !! i hope you guys enjoy !!

“Miss Minatozaki!” Sana couldn’t fight a smile as she heard Saki’s voice. It was nearing the end of the school year, and she had found herself sad at the thought of never being able to see Saki again. She had started crashing all the time they had together, knowing it was going to come to an end soon.

“Hi Saki. What are you doing here so late after school?” Sana asked. School had let out hours ago, and Sana was just waiting for Jihyo to come by with Nico so they could take their daughter to a doctor’s appointment. “I had science club!” Saki explained excitedly. Sana nodded, vaguely remembering Saki saying she was in the school’s science club. It made sense for her, Saki had always enjoyed doing science in school. “How was it?” “It was so fun! We built bridges out of sticks!” Saki explained. “Sounds like a lot of fun. Do you know if your mom is almost here to pick you up?” “She should be. Club let out at 5. But on Tuesdays mama has to get Sai from softball too so she’s usually late picking me up from science.” Saki explained. “Do you have Nico?” “No, but she’s coming with her mama to pick me up from work.” Sana answered. She understood why Saki would ask that, the rare times she did see Sana after school, Sana was usually leaving and since Momo always brought Nico when she picked her up Saki usually saw her with Nico. “Nico’s mama?” Saki asked. “Your wife?” “Uh yeah, that's right.” Sana nodded, shuffling around awkwardly.

“But you don’t wear a ring like my moms’ do.” Saki pointed out. “Mama told me she never takes her ring off cause it’s proof she’s married to ka-san.” “Not everyone can wear their ring all the time, Saki. Some people can’t wear them because of their jobs.” Sana attempted to justify.

“But Mrs.Kim and Mrs.Song wear theirs every single day.” Sana really wished Saki was less perceptive. She knew her student was extremely perceptive, and quite smart, and while normally Sana was proud of her, she could see why this was a bit of an issue. The girl was too smart for her own good. “Mm… Well Nico’s mama and I we uh- we don’t need rings.” “Is it because you're not married?” Saki asked.

“No, no- we just uh don’t like jewelry all that much. But that’s okay, cause we love each other.” Sana explained. “Saki! There you are! You know what we said about running off…” Nayeon paused when she saw Sana. “Hi mama.” Saki smiled at Nayeon. “Oh hi Nay- Miss Im-Myoui. Saki and I here were just discussing things from class-”

“No we weren’t. We were talking about your wife.” Saki nodded. At the mention of it, Nayeon couldn’t help but think about the pictures she came across on Jihyo’s instagram of her with another woman. There were barely any pictures of Sana on there at all actually. No wedding photos, no vacation photos. Just a couple of pictures from when they had Nico. “Oh uh… Okay? Saki come on, your sister is waiting for us.” Nayeon looked at Sana one more time, painfully noticing Sana’s lack of a scent marking. “But I wanted to see Nico.” Saki whined. “Miss Minatozaki said her mama was bringing her.” “Saki I’m sure that would be troubling for Miss Minatozaki, let’s just get home and start on dinner-” Nayeon trailed off when she noticed someone else coming towards them. When they reached them, Saki took off in a dash and Sana wasn’t far behind. “Nico!” Saki giggled. “You're so much bigger!” Jihyo smiled at Saki’s praise, holding one hand around Nico’s stomach while the baby giggled at all the attention. It didn’t take long for her to notice Nayeon though, and she couldn’t help but notice the death glare Nayeon was giving her. “Yup, she’s been growing a lot lately.” Sana smiled, taking one of Nico’s hands. “She even has started doing more stuff too like laughing and eating real food.” Sana was so focused on Nico and by extension Saki, she didn’t notice the staring match Nayeon and Jihyo were engaged in. “Hey Sana, can you take Nico for a second?” Jihyo asked, beginning to unstrap her daughter.

“Oh sure. Why though?”

“Mrs.Im and I are going to have a little chat. Her company recently hired my firm, so I’m sure you can imagine there’s a lot needed to discuss.” Jihyo explained. Sana looked at her suspiciously, but didn’t question. She took Nico into her arms and Saki seemed fascinated by Nico as Sana explained what she was learning. Jihyo motioned for Nayeon to follow her, and the older woman followed her into the hallway. “So you're a lawyer?” Nayeon asked, feeling a bit of intrigue. She had never actually talked to Jihyo, despite knowing her for almost seven years now. She was just someone Sana was friends with. Even if Nayeon had felt a lot of jealousy towards her when Sana was pregnant, she had never actually spoken to Jihyo. “Civil prosecutor, but yes anyway...” Jihyo nodded. “Why the hell are you staring at me like that?”

“You're cheating on Sana.” Jihyo couldn’t stifle her laughter. “Don’t laugh this is super serious stuff- I can’t believe you would cheat on your wife and then post about it on instagram and even laugh about it-”

“My wife?” Jihyo giggled. “Sana would never marry me. That would be like marrying my sister, weird on so many levels. Sure we have Nico so I completely understand the misunderstanding, but we are not married. How can I cheat on someone I’m not even with in the first place?”

“But-but Sana said you two were married-” It was then that everything clicked in Jihyo’s head. Sana had said that. She had told Jihyo about it and everything. She had just completely forgotten. And now she felt so stupid. “Oh yeah, yeah. We um, we are taking a break?” Jihyo attempted to justify. “We never got married officially, so I got a little confused.” “A break?” “Yeah uh, we decided being just friends is better for now.” Jihyo explained. “But Nico is still- she’s very little still. So we are still seeing each other as friends.” “Oh… I see.” Nayeon nodded. “Were you cheating on her before or after you split up?” “I- I never cheated on Sana.” Jihyo nodded. “I would never. Believe it or not I actually love her. Unlike you and your wife.” “Hey you don’t have a right to say anything about that. You don’t know anything-”

“I know you hurt her. You have no right to lecture me, you completely broke Sana. In a way Momo and I have tried to fix. We’ve tried so hard to fix her. But the two of you-you completely broke Sana. Was it worth it? Was making the media happy worth losing Sana?” Jihyo couldn’t stop herself from letting it spill out. Her feelings towards Nayeon and Mina had been building for so long, and now she couldn’t help them from spilling over.

“You don’t know anything-”

“I know my best friend got hurt.” Jihyo interjected. “She’s still being hurt by your choices, and to me that’s all matters.” Nayeon fell silent after that, taking a while to think out what to say.

“We messed up, Mina and I both know that. And I’m sorry Sana had to get hurt in the process, but we can’t take it back. We didn’t want them to meet at all, but Sana said it was okay and Saki wanted it so- it’s almost over.” “So what, your just going to go back to your fantasy land with your perfect family?” Jihyo asked. “This year isn’t something Sana is just going to forget. She loves Saki. She loves all the other girls. I know if you guys cut all contact with her again and go back to your perfect little life, Sana is going to be crushed all over again. I love Sana, not romantically, but more than you ever will. And because of that, I can’t just let her get hurt again.” “You know nothing about how I feel about Sana.” Nayeon growled. “Oh yeah? You chose your image over her. That doesn’t seem like love to me.” Jihyo rolled her eyes. “Sana always talked about you two like you were so perfect. Even after you guys screwed her over she never said a single bad thing about you two. She’s so good, but look at what you two did to her. You hurt the human sunshine and you have the audacity to stand here and claim you care about her after fucking her over for six years.” “I’m not claiming anything- I care about Sana. I do-I do, and Mina does too. It hasn’t been easy for us either. Every night I can barely sleep because I think about her. Every night Mina has nightmares about Sana. But-but we made a decision and we have to live with it. Even if I want more than anything to take it back, we can’t just change our minds now. We already messed everything up, it can’t go back to how it’s supposed to be.” “So your saying that people can’t change their minds? Your saying that because you made a mistake once you can’t change it?” Jihyo rolled her eyes. “You, Im Nayeon, are the biggest idoit on the plant.” “Even if we tried, it would just hurt Sana more. She’s-she’s better off like this. Trust me.” Nayeon nodded. “Your saying she’s better off in an almost unbearable pain than forgiving you. You have no idea how hurt she has been. We aren’t omegas, but both of us are sires. Imagine if someone took your kids away from you, and said you could never see them again because of a mistake they made. Wouldn’t that drive you crazy? I know if someone took Nico from me like that- I would go crazy. Try seeing this from Sana’s perspective.” “But-but she wouldn’t forgive us. Not after what we have done-”

“That doesn’t matter. If you just- give her the chance she’s wanted for six years. To form a meaningful connection with her kids. It doesn’t matter what she thinks of you or what you think of her, being a parent should come first.” Jihyo nodded. “I’m not saying you should try to get her back or anything like that. You absolutely should not do that. But- at least give her the opportunity to meet her kids properly.” “I-I’ll think about it.” “Good.” Jihyo sighed. “Now let’s get back, Nico does have somewhere she needs to be.” When they returned, Sana and Saki were wering matching smiles as Saki waved a baby toy in front of Nico. Nayeon couldn’t stop her heart from aching when she remembered how similar Sana and Saki’s smiles were.

That night, Sana received a text to meet Mina and Nayeon at a coffee shop not too far from the school she taught it. Needless to say, she was terrified.

“Bye baby girl.” Sana sighed, kissing Nico’s cheek.”Behave for Auntie Momo.” “She always does.” Momo laughed, scoping Nico up into her arms. “Come here sweetie, let’s do all the things your mom says you can’t.”

“I’ll be back in a bit.” Sana breathed out a sigh of nerves. “You got this Sana. You never know, it could go well.” Momo offered. “Or I could lose them forever.” Sana sighed.

“Don’t think about it that way. Anyway, remember to use protection and call me if you can’t walk home.” “Don’t make it sound like I’m going to sleep with them!” Sana protested. “That’s not what this is-”

“Bye Sana.” Momo ignored her and pushed her out of their house. Sana sighed and clutched her purse tightly, taking another deep breath before starting on her walk. She couldn’t stop her mind from wandering the whole way there. It seemed so out of the blue. It stressed her out.

Mina and Nayeon are waiting there for her. They both are dressed in casual clothing, and Sana had forgotton how adorable Mina’s oversized sweaters were and how hot Nayeon looked in sweatpants.

“Hello.” Sana sighed when she sat at the table they were at. Mina and Nayeon were both sitting opposite of her, which was more than a little intimidating. “Hey.” Nayeon greeted. Mina stayed quiet, swirling her coffee around in her cup. “Did you order something yet? It’s on us.” “No it’s okay- I already had plenty of coffee this morning. My five month old is in a growth spurt so she isn’t sleeping much so my roommate and I have both consumed like three cups of coffee in the past few hours.” Sana explained.

“Okay then.” Nayeon nodded, Mina staying quiet and drinking her coffee. Sana couldn’t help but notice her fist were curled in, a habit Mina had when she was nervous. “Um… Where to start?” “About Saki.” Mina reminded, taking another sip of her drink. “Oh yeah- about Saki.” Sana couldn’t help herself from tensing up. “She um- she has really liked you being her teacher. I don’t think she’s really figured anything out yet, but her and the others ids have been asking about thier birth mom a lot lately. We have been avoiding their questions, but maybe-maybe that’s bad for them.” “We just- it might be a good idea to introduce you into their lives. We’ve talked about it, and we’re worried that girls might come to hate us if we keep you from them their entire lives. I know we messed up, and that you probably want nothing to do with us. But maybe it shouldn’t be about us anymore.” Mina added. Sana couldn’t stop herself from smiling. “I- what? What changed now?” “Nothing really changed, we just. We messed up. We’re admitting it, and we’re hoping to correct ourselves. If you will let us. You don’t have to forgive us, but maybe consider meeting them? Not as a teacher, as their birth mother.” Nayeon answered. “We have hated this too, and we realized keeping you away from them is just making this worse for everyone. The least we can do is let you meet your daughters as their birth mom. If you want.” “Mina, I would love that.” Tears came to Sana’s eyes. “Yeah?” “Yes.” Sana nodded, wiping her tears with one hand. “Sorry, I cry so easily now. Guess that’s what happens when you have five kids. But uh yes, yes I would love to meet them as their birth mom. On one condition, they are allowed to meet Nico too. If I get to know them, their half-sister does too.” “Yeah, that’s-that makes sense.” Nayeon nodded. “We are sorry for how everything turned out. We will do our best to make this all right if you would let us.” “I would love that.” Sana smiled. “Thank you so much.” “No-thank you. I can only say I’m so sorry for all we’ve put you through.” “It’s okay.” Sana took one of Mina’s tense fists and unfurled it. “Let’s make this better, together.”

“I would like that.”

#twice #surrogate au #3na #minatozaki sana #myoui mina #im nayeon #saki #park jihyo #nico

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beauvibaby · 4 years ago

Text

I still love you – j.benn

a/n: Uh I totally didn’t proof read this sorry

• what happens when you find out your pregnant with Jamie’s baby after you’ve already broken up •

word count: 7.4K

You stared down at the test, feeling the nausea rise up your throat once again, your mind jumping back to a little over a month ago.

“We can’t do this, Jamie.” You sighed, staring at him from your spot on the opposite end of his living room, it was a mutual decision, it wasn’t going to be made with hard feelings, maybe had you both been less worried about what could happen, you would’ve been able to put in the effort–it’s not to say that you didn’t like him. You really truly did, a lot too. But it just wasn’t possible, both of you agreed. “I know.” He shrugged, both of you hiding the pain of this decision. “Doesn’t mean we can’t have one last good night.” He smirked at you, deflecting his emotions. And he was right, you did have one last good night.

Maybe too good.

In the heat of the moment, you’re guessing you both forgot about the condom, or you didn’t and there was a hole in it. No matter what happened, this was the result and you were having a hard time trying to figure out what to do. The positive results staring back at you, a feeling of happiness came over you–but at the same time, it made you terrified, this isn’t how you imagined you’d find out you were pregnant. Alone, in your apartment, at two am after you realized why you’d been sick for over a week. You sucked in a sharp breath, letting it out slowly, easing your churning stomach, a hand resting on it, subconsciously rubbing it. The thought of a false positive popped into your head, and you were shocked by how saddened you were at the thought, pushing those thoughts aside you forced yourself to go back to bed, mind racing a million miles a minute. Knowing first thing in the morning you’d be calling to schedule a doctors appointment.

The months flew, you didn’t know how to reach Jamie, you’d long ago deleted his number, in a drunken pity party two nights after you broke up, and social media was the only way you thought to try and reach him, but he never even read the message. It was a simple one, you didn’t disclose any information. “Can we talk?” Never seen, never responded too. Nothing. You’d watched the games, it gave you a feeling of closeness, why you longed for it, that you weren’t sure of. You blamed the hormones, wanting to not admit that you were missing Jamie, and maybe that on some level you wanted to be with him all this time, and to share this experience with him.

***

12 weeks.

You shakily held your phone out in front of you, waiting for your parents to answer the FaceTime call, you’d made the decision to keep the baby, even if it meant you were all alone, and it was finally time to tell your parents, a nervous smile on your face when they popped up on your screen. “Hi honey!” Your mom grinned, your dad smiling right beside her, “hi.” You spoke softly, “I have to tell you guys something.” Clearing your throat you sat up a little straighter, your dad eyed you suspiciously, “everything ok?” He questioned, his fatherly intuition tingling as his one and only daughter looked at him nervously. “Well, it depends on how you look at it, but I think it’s pretty good.” You laughed nervously, closing your eyes for a second before blurting out. “I’m pregnant.” Everyone fell silent, you peeked an eye open, seeing your parents staring at you, so still that you began to wonder if they froze on your screen. “Mom, dad?” You cringed, they came to their senses, “a grand baby!” Your mom shrieked, your dad slowly beginning to smile, before the question you were waiting for happened. “Who’s the dad?” Your father asked.

Your face fell for a moment, “Jamie.” You whispered, they knew who he was, they knew you dated, but they also knew you had broken up a while back. They put two and two together and assumed that you’d kept this information private for a while. “Oh, honey, does he know?” Your mom asked, shuffling in her seat, your dad looking blankly at you, unsure of how to be reacting, he was happy of course, a grandchild is something he’s always dreamed of, but he was angry at Jamie already, without even knowing why he wasn’t there. “I haven’t told him.” You admitted sheepishly, listening to them both go into a rant.

***

20 weeks.

You laid on the table, a gasp falling from your lips as you felt the baby kick against your stomach, the ultrasound tech looking at you with a smile, “you felt that?” She was in the middle of an ultrasound, she could see the baby moving, but you’d never felt them before. “Yes, oh my god.” You whispered, a grin coming over your face, she laughed softly, continuing the scan, “do you want to know the gender?” She asked, having her own grin on her face, you looked over at her, you had your friends around here with you, but you didn’t want to do a whole gender reveal party. So you nodded, “yes please.” You held your breath as she clicked a few times before turning the screen towards you, “it’s a girl.” She whispered, watching as you let out a gasp, this whole time you’d thought it was a boy. A feeling you had, but you were wrong apparently. “A girl.” You smiled, the rest of your appointment going smoothly, your baby girl having no health issues so far.

***

You were now 32 weeks pregnant, exactly two months away from having your baby girl. To say you were nervous was an understatement, you’d been working extra to save up, the nursery almost being finished, something you were immensely proud of yourself for tackling the project on your own.

The local shopping center has been a recent stop of yours, always thinking of something else you needed to pick up for the baby, who’s name you still hadn’t been able to decide. You tried to contact Jamie again, and again, but you became discouraged after four failed attempts, and the next thing you knew, you were nearly through your whole pregnancy, and the hockey season was over, Jamie would be going back to Canada to be with his family, at least, that’s what you thought. You huffed as you tried to get the baby sized tub into your already full trunk, not noticing the cart was rolling away until you turned to grab the next item– the last item, only a package of crib sheets, and the cart was already easily ten feet away from you. A small shriek fell from your lips as you started speed walking for it, seeing the way it was heading straight for an over price convertible, something you couldn’t pay to fix. “Oh, no, no!” You spoke to yourself, unable to run with your ever growing bump. “I’ll get it!” A guy went jogging passed you, grabbing it just before it could hit the car, you stopped in your spot, even from the back you could recognize him. Your jaw fell, you looked to the ground as he turned, pushing the cart back towards you. “Thank you.” You whispered, awkwardly looking up, Jamie was already staring at you. He went stiff, eyes stuck on yours, like always you could read them so well, he was shocked, maybe even a bit happy before he did a double take over your body.

“Y/N.” His eyes jumped between yours and the bump you were fully showing off in the snug fit maternity dress. “Jamie.” You whispered, taking a step towards the cart, seeing his knuckles turn white from his grip on the handle. “You’re–is it mine?” He asked bluntly, taking a step away from you, watching as you pushed the cart into the grass, taking the crib sheets and hugging them to your body. “First of all, you should know, I tried to contact you through social media, I didn’t have your number anymore.” You rushed, the guilt eating you alive. “Online?” He scoffed, “you tried to tell me you’re pregnant through Instagram?” His words were harsh, but his eyes blank. “Jamie, I’m sorry, I swear I wanted to tell you. I deleted your number after we broke up, I was upset, and I didn’t know what else to do.” You pleaded, staring him down, he looked to the sheets in your arms, studying them, it was easy to tell it was a girl, the pack being full of pink and floral fabric. He bit his lip, looking passed you, you glanced back, turning your body slightly, face falling when you saw Tyler, who you could tell instantly recognized you.

His eyes darted to your stomach, his eyes going as wide as they could as he turned back around and walked away to give you two space. “A girl?” Jamie finally spoke, stepping closer to you, a sniffled yes fell from your lips as you looked away. “I’m so sorry, I promise I wanted you to know. I didn’t want to take this or her away from you.” You explained to him, surprised when he reached out to wipe a tear from your cheek before retracting his hand. “I know, you wouldn’t do that.” He still sounded angry, which you couldn’t blame him for, but you were grateful he wasn’t completely losing it. This is an odd situation, there isn’t a guide book to how to handle this kind of information. “I have so many questions.” He mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, a smile graced your face. “Well, if you want to give me your number again, we can catch up sometime.” You joked, hoping it wasn’t too soon, your feelings for Jamie rushing right back, like you hadn’t just been apart for seven months. “Are you free now?” He blurted, turning pink afterwards. “I was just going to go home and put my swollen ankles up on the couch, you’re more than welcome to come.” You spoke sheepishly, biting the corner of your lip. “I-Uh-are you sure? I don’t want to impose.” He stuttered over his words, you couldn’t help but let out a giggle, which turned into a string of laughter as Jamie stared at you curiously, “Jamie, you could never impose on me. You deserve all the time you want, it’s my fault you missed so much of this already.” You spoke through laughter that you were fighting to not turn into tears. “Let’s not blame anyone, ok?” He spoke softly, shoving his hands into his pockets, “um, I just have to drop Tyler off at his place, and then I can come by?” He raised an eyebrow, rocking on his feet as you let a tear slip. “Yeah,” you cleared your throat, “yeah that works.” You turned walking straight for your car, you were climbing into the drivers seat when Jamie jogged over to you, “gate code still the same?” He asked looking down at you.

Your breathing hitched the memory coming back instantly.

“A one month anniversary gift?” Jamie teased, shaking the small box you gave him, the only thing being inside was a note with the code to your apartment complex gate on it. You were tired of having to buzz him in all the time, and you trusted him more than you normally would trust a guy. He was different, he was kind, he cared. “Shut up and open it.” You rolled your eyes, going back into the kitchen suddenly embarrassed as he opened the box, he looked back up with a grin only to find you gone, he jumped to his feet and wandered into the kitchen, arms wrapping around your waist from behind. “That was cute, babe, and I’ll definitely use it.” He kissed your cheek, feeling you smile under his lips, “good.”

“Yeah, still the same.” With that you parted ways, you nervously driving home to clean whatever mess you left in the apartment, and little did you know Jamie was sitting in Tyler’s driveway, trying to process this information, while Tyler was insisting this was fate.

“It’s not fate!” Jamie snapped, glaring at his friend who sat in the passenger seat with a smug smile on his face, “ok, so what do you call seeing your ex who’s been trying to get a hold of you for months because she’s pregnant with your child? In a target parking lot no less!” Tyler rambled, giving Jamie a stern look, “exactly, it’s fate. Case closed. I know it’s a lot to handle, but there was always something special between you two.” He added, waiting for Jamie to speak. “We dated for barely two months, Ty.” Jamie grumbled, leaning back in his seat, rubbing a hand over his face. “So? That’s plenty of time to know if you’re in love!” Tyler defended, laughing when Jamie went pink. “You are a terrible liar.” He snickered, calming himself down as Jamie looked over at him with wide, emotion filled eyes. “It’s a girl.” Jamie whispered, scratching at his beard, Tyler went silent, a happy smile pulling across his face. “Shit, man, you better hope she looks like Y/N.” Tyler teased, using it to hide his own emotions as well, “get out.” Jamie laughed, wiping at his eyes. “I gotta go over there before she thinks I’m bailing, I have so much to learn.” He mumbled, Tyler giving him a quick pat on the shoulder, “you got this, it’ll be fine.”

You paced in your living room, swollen feet and all, suddenly terrified that Jamie wasn’t going to show, how could you even think he would have? For all you know he could be thinking it isn’t even his, that you said it was for money. You rubbed your hands over your bump, your daughter extra active as your anxiety picked up, you took a deep breath, jumping when the door was knocked on. You gave the room one last look over before going to let him in, “hey.” You smiled softly, the familiarity of opening your door to see him staring back at you came rushing back and you had to ignore the ache in your chest from it. “Hey.” He repeated, looking beyond you and into the cozy apartment of yours that always loved to be in. “Oh, come in, sorry.” You awkwardly shuffled, shutting the door once he walked in, he didn’t know where to go so he kind of just stood in limbo, you rushed over to the fridge, pulling the last sonogram photo off of it, which was already aged so well, considering you don’t have anymore ultrasounds scheduled and you couldn’t spare the cash to go to a 3D place. “Here.” You handed it to him, watching as he grabbed it delicately, looking at the black and white photo in awe. He glanced up at you, his eyes scanning around the room, he could see little touches here and there for the baby, the most noticeable one being the car seat and stroller you had in boxes by the kitchen table. It hurt him to see all the things you had to do by yourself, all the things he should be here for, his mind wandered, suddenly wondering if you had a nursery set up for her, deep down he knew you did, because you were you and you were a planner.

“I’m sorry, Jamie. I really am, I feel terrible, please don’t hate me for not telling you.” You rushed your words, his immediate reaction was to step closer to you, “I don’t think I could ever hate you, Y/N. I’ll get over it, I just don’t want to miss anymore.” He assured you, resisting the urge to hug you, not wanting to push your boundaries. You nodded tearfully, “give me your hand.” You whispered, feeling her moving around, he didn’t hesitate to listen, watching as you placed it to the upper left side of your stomach, he furrowed his brows before he felt the kick. You watched the smile pull across his face, “oh my god.” He whispered, scrambling to set the sonogram photo down, placing his other hand there as well. He felt overcome by emotion, he couldn’t explain it, but he had zero doubts of this being his baby, he felt as if he had a bond with her already despite her not even being born yet. You watched him with tears in your eyes, finally getting to see a genuine reaction from him about this, he was happy, it was plain as day across his face. No doubts, nothing but pure happiness and excitement. “Tell me everything. I don’t care how long it takes, please, just make me feel like I’ve been here for all of this.” He sniffled, keeping his eyes on your stomach, where his hands still laid gently, worried if he put anymore pressure he’d hurt you. “We better sit down then.” You joked, finally getting his attention, he mirrored your expression, relief and happiness, with watery eyes. “We better.” He agreed, following you to the couch, where you spent the next two hours exchanging stories, although he didn’t speak much, a combination of processing the information and simply wanting to hear you speak for as long as possible.

After some time, the sun had started to set, Jamie caught you glancing out the window repeatedly, “I can leave now.” He assured you, but made no effort to move, if he was being honest he really didn’t want to leave, he wanted to be here even if there was nothing he could do to help you. “No, it’s fine.” You brushed him off, an idea popping into your head, “did you want to see her room?” You raised an eyebrow at him, he nodded eagerly rushing to his feet, extending his hands to help you off the couch. You gave him a grateful smile once you were up on your feet, “come on.” You led him down the short hallway to what was once your guest bedroom, you stepped aside and let him push the door open, “it’s not completely finished yet, I want to put her name up above the crib, but I haven’t decided on one yet.” You explained, leaning against the wall as he stood in the middle of the room, looking around at all the furniture, and the bags of baby clothes you've yet to wash. “You haven’t picked a name?” He looked kind of hopeful, “no, but I figured now you could help me? If you’re going to be involved.” You trailed off, needing the confirmation from him. “Of course I’m going to be involved, Y/N. That’s my daughter.” He pointed to your stomach, earning a soft chuckle from you. Jamie saw the tears pooling in your eyes, so he lightened the subject slightly, “you put all of this together by yourself?” He questioned, running his hands over the white crib railing, looking down at the small mattress, imaging what it will look like once the baby is here. “Well, my brother came down a couple weeks ago to help me put it all together, my bump got in the way too much.” You giggled, thinking back to the way you and your brother were so frustrated with each other while trying to put the furniture together.

“Oh–your family, they probably hate me.” He whispered, more for himself than you, you couldn’t help yourself, you took large steps over to him, standing toe to toe with him, chuckling as your bump grazed his own stomach. “They don’t hate you, actually, they’re more mad at me for not finding a way to tell you.” You whispered, Jamie nodded, still feeling guilty for causing any disturbance in your family–wait, family. He still has to tell his family. “I have to tell my family, my parents, oh my god.” He suddenly sat down in the glider in the corner, head in his hands, you frowned at the sight, your reserves breaking, when you broke up with Jamie you loved him, you’d never told him, not wanting to make it harder for him. But now, looking at him like this, and thinking of how in two short months your daughter would be here, and seeing him with her, it all came rushing back. “Jamie.” You whispered, making his head snap up, “it’s going to be ok.” You assured him, he could see you wanted to say more, “and?” He prompted, remembering how you’d fiddle with your fingers when you were nervous, just like you were doing right now. You shook your head, letting the tears fall, Jamie was up in an instant, standing right in front of you again, but this time he did hug you. He pulled you as snug against his chest as he could, ducking his head down to inhale the scent of your shampoo, “you can tell me anything, you know.” He reminded you, shocked with how easy it felt to be back with you. He loved you then and he was certain he did now, things would have to go slowly though, it was difficult to jump right back into how things were after all this time.

“I loved you, Jamie, I still love you. If you feel the same, that’s great, and if you don’t, just tell me now so I can deal with it before the baby comes.” You rambled into his chest, but he caught all he needed to hear, “I still love you too.” He whispered, laughing when you shot back, looking at him skeptically. “I mean, things would have to go slow, right? But I want to be here, whether that’s as your boyfriend too, or just as a co-parent, I’m going to be here.” He assured you, a confident smile on his face, you put your arms up around his neck, taking in the expression on his face–the emotions in his eyes. “Kinda slow.” You shrugged, eyes flickering down to his lips, “kinda slow.” He smirked, mimicking your actions. “You know, I’m a really hormonal pregnant woman, so you should just kiss me already.” You whispered, admiring the way his eyes crinkled shut in laughter, his lips met yours, and it felt like you never stopped kissing him, like the last seven months apart didn’t happen. You felt safe and loved, and you could only pray that things continued this easily.

When you finally separated you both stared at each other, “hi.” He mumbled, tracing your cheekbones with his thumbs, a blissful smile on his face. You started to laugh, uncontrollably, and he couldn’t help but join in. Not even sure why he was laughing but, you were contagious. “This is insane, Jamie.” You finally spoke, breathing hard from laughing, “are we really doing this? Us?” You questioned, suddenly very serious. “I’m all in, Y/N.” He assured you, “when’s your next appointment?” He questioned, tucking the hair behind your ears. “Tomorrow actually.” You grinned, “Wanna come?” You teased, already knowing his answer. “Can I?” He murmured, he hated that he felt like he was overstepping, even though you just offered it to him. “Of course, I want you to come, to all of them.” You spoke calmly, the easiness of being with him helped you ease your nerves, it just felt right.

***

“Bed rest?!” You and Jamie exclaimed at the same time, you had zero complications during your pregnancy so far, and now suddenly your blood pressure is up, and your doctor is worried about you going into early labor. She nodded, “yes, I think that’s the best option, for now you can monitor it at home, but if anything changes I recommend you come back in so we can reevaluate.” Your mind was going a thousand miles a minute, how could you do bed rest on your own, you lived in an apartment with an elevator that didn’t always work. Jamie could tell he was thinking the same thing as you, worry etched into his features. “Is this serious?” He asked the doctor, “it could be, but if it’s managed well, she can go full term.” She assured him, “I’ll give you two a moment, whenever you’re ready you can head to the front and check out.” She smiled, disappearing just like that. You covered your face with your hands, shaking with soft cries. “Jamie, what am I supposed to do?” You groaned into your hands, he stood in front of you and gently pulled them away from your face. “What are we supposed to do.” He corrected you softly, wiping under your eyes, “I have an idea. A crazy one, but an idea nonetheless.” He spoke, staring right into your eyes, “go on.” You encouraged, mind still reeling, unable to think properly.

“Come stay with me.” He deadpanned, you went blank, “like, move in?” You trailed off, looking away before you could see the smile on his face. “Yeah.” He nodded, “you can stay in a different room, whatever makes you comfortable, but I wouldn’t feel good leaving you in your apartment all day by yourself. Besides, when the baby comes it would just be easier, everything would be in one place. We wouldn’t have to worry about going back and forth between houses, it just makes sense.” He rambled, watching you hesitantly, unsure of how you were reacting as your face stayed blank. “I’m scared, Jamie, I’m really fucking scared, about something happening to her, or to us.” You whimpered, hiding your face in his chest, he shushed you and ran his hands up and down your back. He had all those same fears, but he wouldn’t tell you that, you needed encouragement, and he was here to give it. “It’s going to be ok, she's going to be a healthy happy baby, and we’re going to be ok. I promise, I want nothing more than to make this work.” He cupped your cheeks as he spoke, making sure you absorbed every word, he placed a kiss to your forehead before pecking your lips shortly. “Now, we’re still standing in the doctors office and I don’t think that’s very productive of me when I need to be bringing you to your new home.” He joked, finally getting a smile out of you. There was a lot to figure out, a lot to do, but you pushed the worries aside for now and just allowed Jamie to take you to his house–your now shared home.

***

You were now only a month away from having your baby, things with Jamie had been good, not great, but you attributed that to your own self worries. He had been nothing but loving and attentive, but you couldn’t help but worry that once the baby came, he wouldn’t really care about you anymore. It sounded terrible, but you couldn’t help how you felt. Your blood pressure had gone back to normal, and your doctor told you that you didn’t have to stay on full bed rest, but she definitely wanted you to take it easy. Which is why you were sitting in the glider in what was becoming the baby’s nursery, watching Tyler and Jamie snap at each other while trying to figure out how to put the crib back together. You decided not to renew your apartment, it was something you and Jamie spoke long and hard about, but it felt like the right decision, why spend all that money on rent when you wouldn’t even be going there. So now, you’d sold whatever furniture you didn’t need, and brought all of the baby stuff here, just in time for her arrival coming up. You looked around the room, Jamie had asked you what you pictured for the walls, knowing in the apartment you couldn’t paint, so you told him, not thinking much of it, you didn’t think was going to spend the whole weekend painting the room and putting up the floral wallpaper. But he did, because he loves you and wanted you to have the nursery you dreamed of for your daughter. He couldn’t lie and say that he didn’t love it, because he did. The light colors, and the furniture together, it felt cozy but beautiful at the same time. It was more than he could have dreamed of for his baby. Tyler was thrilled to have you back in the group, he tended to you just as much as Jamie did, insisting he could do things, or help out. It was sweet really, and you were thankful that everyone important in Jamie’s life was so accepting of you. His family included, his mom was thrilled and couldn’t wait to come visit once the baby was born, who’s name still hadn’t been decided on, but that was your next mission.

“We need to pick a name, Jam.” You reminded him, as he huffed, finally getting the crib out together properly, he looked over at you with a smile, “this should be interesting.” Tyler laughed, sitting back against the wall, watching the two of you go back and forth over names, both of you spitting them out left and right only to be shot down by the other.

“Grace?” Jamie spoke, eyebrow raised, “as a middle name.” You countered, he nodded, “I can agree to that.” He leaned back on his arms, waiting for you to give out a first name option. You ran your hands over your even larger bump, “Presley?” You grinned, he cocked his head to the side, chewing on his lip. “Presley Grace Benn.” He spoke, glancing over at Tyler who had a wide grin on his face. You started crying which made the two guys laugh, Jamie slid over to be sitting in front of you, pressing a kiss to your stomach, something he's started doing a lot now. Especially when you started sneaking into his bed in the middle of the night, until you finally agreed to stay in the same room as him, you didn’t like being alone when you knew he was right down the hall. “Presley.” He mumbled, pushing himself up to give you a quick kiss. “Well, come on now, let’s finish Presley’s room, Tyler.” He demanded, laughing at the way his friend shot up, “don’t have to tell me twice.”

***

You tossed and turned, between your mind racing, Presley’s kicking and Jamie’s absence, you couldn’t will yourself to get some rest. You groaned, sitting up in the edge of the bed, trying to find the willpower to go apologize to Jamie, he was sleeping in the guest room, you two having a huge argument just a few hours before. He didn’t want to leave, but you didn’t seem to want to be next to him, and he surely wasn’t going to make you sleep in a different room.

Jamie stared at you across the dining room table, trying to figure out why you were so moody tonight, yes, yes, of course he knows about pregnancy hormones. But this was different, you were quiet, and he could see the worry dancing in your eyes, and that bothered him, he tried to get it out of subtly, but you didn’t budge, you stood your ground, not wanting to admit how you felt aloud. “Baby, what’s wrong?” He finally broke and asked you bluntly, resting his elbows on the table, chin in his hand as he looked at you. He sighed when you shrugged, “nothing.” You lied. “Is everything ok?” He asked, referring to the baby, “does anything hurt?” He questioned, and that broke you. “Oh my god, Jamie! Is it always about the pregnancy? I feel like that's all I am to you now! When she’s born, am I just going to become this woman that lives in your house to take care of your daughter?” You snapped, sliding your chair back aggressively, huffing with your arms crossed over your chest, he stared at you, jaw falling slack as he tried to process what you accused him of out of nowhere. “Y/N–“ “What? Are you going to say that’s not true? It doesn’t feel like it.” You cut him off, standing up from the table, “I love you.” He called as you walked off, which his motive wasn’t to make you feel guilty, but it did. “I love you too!” You shouted, but still slamming the door shut to your master bedroom. Jamie flinching as he cleaned the table off from dinner. He gave you space, coming to check on you an hour or so later, you were in the shower, back towards him so you didn’t see him stand there for a moment, deciding what his next move should be. But when he heard you angrily close the cap to your shampoo, he decided he would give you some more time.

You pushed yourself up off the bed, sniffling as you hobbled down the hall. You were walking passed Presley’s now finished room, glancing at the go bags you had packed and ready for her arrival any day now. 38 weeks, she could come at any time now and you were as ready as ready could be. You were about to continue down the hall when you heard a soft snore come from inside the room, you furrowed your brows and tiptoed into the room, feeling immensely guilty when you saw Jamie asleep in the glider with a parenting book spread open on his chest. You carefully slipped the book from his grasp, setting it on the changing table beside him, he finally looked at ease, you were going to just leave him there to rest, but as you went to walk out of the room, Presley gave a hard kick, as if she was scolding you. “Fine, I’ll get daddy.” You spoke softly down to your bump, something you and Jamie had both begun doing constantly. It dawned on you then, as you turned to look at him, that he hadn’t done anything wrong, he was being nothing but loving towards you and the baby. Yes, he was putting an emphasis on the pregnancy, who wouldn’t? You loved when he would lay his head on your lap watching tv, and talk to your stomach, or how his hands were always rubbing on it, and the way he would always press a kiss to where she was kicking before he would go to sleep.

He was madly in love with you, and you were too in your head to notice.

You pushed his messy hair off his forehead, “Jamie?” You whispered, he nudged further into your hand, still fast asleep, “Jamie.” You spoke again, resting your other hand on his chest, lightly shaking him. He sucked in a breath through his nose as he fluttered his eyes open, “Y/N?” He whispered, blinking to adjust to the light in the room, his voice raspy. “Honey, why don’t you come to bed.” You murmured, placing your hand over his bearded jaw, he met your gaze. “Are you still mad at me?” He quipped, eyes softening as he saw the way yours were bloodshot. “No, I was being an idiot, I shouldn’t have said any of that, it’s not true.” You whispered, he nodded, not moving his head from your hand, “I’m sorry, Jamie.” You leaned down to give him a kiss that he gladly accepted, “I know, baby, don’t cry.” He smiled up at you, “I’m not crying.” You rolled your eyes sheepishly, feeling the few tears fall down your cheeks. “Come on, you’re exhausted.” He stood up with a yawn, hands on your hips as he guided you back to bed. He flicked the lights off in the nursery as he walked, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “You know, if something’s ever bothering you, you can always tell me, and we can figure it out together.” He reminded you softly, smiling when you turned to hug him tightly. “I know, my emotions have been all over the place, I never know what’s actually bothering me or what I think it’s bothering me.” You mumbled into his chest, feeling the laughter run through him at your muffled statement. “It’s ok, sweetheart, let’s just go to bed.” He nudged you gently towards the bed, smiling when you laid facing him, you sighed in content, your belly resting comfortably on your body pillow, your eyes shutting instantly as you felt Jamie playing with your hair. “Goodnight, baby.” He mumbled, kissing your forehead before settling into his side of the bed, staying up until you were fast asleep, just admiring you, and in awe of how soon it wouldn’t just be the two of you. He was terrified and excited all at the same time.

You woke up what felt like minutes later but was actually hours, to a shooting pain in your back. You groaned, hand shooting to rub the spot, the pain easing a few moments later. You brushed it off as sleeping in an odd position, you flipped to your other side, letting your eyes shut again, but after a few minutes the pain started easing back before it had you nearly in tears. You scrambled to grab your phone, checking the time and sighing when it read two am. “Now, Presley?” You rubbed your stomach, nervously biting your lip. You decided to time the next one and see if it truly was contractions or just an odd coincidence. Jamie was still out beside you, laying flat on his stomach with half his face hidden in the pillow. You sat up against the headboard, rubbing your hands over your face as you watched the time tick away, five minutes passed and just as you thought maybe you were losing your mind, the pain came back, moving more towards your stomach. “Jamie!” You whacked his back with a pillow, sending him flying up, “what? What’s wrong?” He turned the lamp on, eyes wide as he looked at you. You didn’t speak as you had your eyes squeezed shut, a death grip on the sheets below you as the pain pushed through you. “Fuck.” You whimpered, slowly releasing the sheets as it passed. “Are you having contractions? Is it baby time?” He panicked, jumping off the bed, already throwing his pajama pants off and replacing them with real clothes. “Yeah.” You whispered, slowly sliding off the bed, you stood on your two feet shakily, Jamie coming over to grab your hands. “My water hasn’t broken, why hasn’t it broken?” You rushed, suddenly panicking over everything. Jamie shushed you, allowing you to have a death grip on his hands as he slowly walked towards the door with you. “Well, I think it just did.” He informed you as you froze, feeling the wetness go through your pants. You sighed in relief but then it set in that this was really happening, “I need to change my pants, and we need to go.” You were counting down the minutes, wanting to get changed into new pants before another contraction started. Jamie quickly helped you step out of the ones you’d been wearing before grabbing a pair of his sweatpants and shimmying them up your legs. He ran and grabbed the bags and you two were on your way.

The drive to the hospital was made in record speed, Jamie carefully but quickly getting you there, worrying every time you had a contraction and they were quickly getting closer together.

“Seven?!” You shrieked when the doctor popped up from checking how dilated you were, “you’re just speeding right along sweetie! She’ll be here before you know it!” She smiled up at your panicked face, you’d already gotten an epidural, which was thankfully helping tremendously with the pain. “Be back in an hour to check you.” She clapped her hands and was on her way, you and Jamie sitting in the hospital room, the light pouring in from outside, you’d been four centimeters when you got here, and that was only a few hours ago, the sun starting to shine as the early morning came. “She’s already impatient like me.” You sighed, leaning back against your pillows, Jamie chuckled from the seat beside you, “you say that as if you’re not ready to meet her.” He teased you, lacing your fingers together, anxiously bouncing his leg. “You’re making me nervous.” You spoke bluntly, he stopped moving his leg, “sorry.” He mumbled, knowing you weren’t meaning to be so quick with him. “I love you.” You reminded him, he chuckled, “I know, babe, I love you too.” He pressed a quick kiss to your pouted lips before urging you to get some type of rest now that the pain wasn’t so bad.

“You did this to me!” You snapped at Jamie after you gave your fifth excruciating push, suddenly now your daughter decided to be stubborn. “I know.” Is all he could say, pushing your sweaty hair back, one hand under your knee to help hold your leg back. “You’re doing so good, baby.” He encouraged you, smiling when you looked at him with worried eyes between pushes. “I can see her head, Y/N! Just a few more big pushes!” Your doctor encouraged, you let out a strangled cry before nodding, knowing you had no choice but to do it. Jamie cringed every time you pushed and your face started turning bright red, “come on! One more big push!” She encouraged you again, Jamie allowing you to grip his arm tightly as you crunched forward, giving all your strength for this last push. “Shoulders, arms and here we go, a baby girl.” Your doctor spoke, holding her up to put her on your chest as the nurse threw a towel down, using it to wipe her off as she began to cry. “Oh my god.” You cried, unable to pull your eyes off of her, Jamie was staring in awe at her, and you too. “Dad, want to cut the cord?” The doctor shook you both from your thoughts, he nodded hesitantly, she directed to him where to cut it, and he cringed as he did so, but happy that he did it. In a heartbeat he was back up by your head, watching as they took Presley off to be weighed and given a quick check up. “You did it, you did amazing.” He whispered against your forehead, not caring that you were covered in a layer of sweat. “She’s so beautiful, Jamie.” You looked up at him, feeling your heart swell with pride, “that’s all you mama.” He grinned, ducking down to kiss your lips. “All you.” He sighed, “so proud of you.”

***

Waking up to Jamie speaking to Presley was a normal occurrence, and you never got tired of it, you smiled from your place on your pillow as he held the two week old to his chest, she was looking up at him with wide eyes, Jamie had his eyes focused on her as he mumbled sweet words. Telling her how much he loved her and how beautiful she was. “Good morning.” You whispered, watching his eyes look over to you. “Morning.” He smiled, watching you sit up and scoot closer to him. “How long have you been up with her?” You ran your thumb over her chubby little cheek, smiling as she tried to look back at you. He handed her over to you, “not long, ten minutes maybe.” He shrugged, smiling as she instantly gripped your finger. “Hi baby girl.” You cooed, nuzzling your nose against hers, loving the way she would scrunch her face up when you did that. “Hey.” Jamie nudged you lightly, reaching up to grab your chin, turning you to face him, “get out of your head, yeah?” He hummed, kissing you softly, “I still love you.” He reminded you with a smile, just like you two had said only three short months ago, but it felt like forever. “I still love you too.” You responded, melting into his side as he put an arm around your shoulders, you both relishing in the quiet room before Presley would start to get fussy. That’s how most mornings went over the summer, when the season started it was hard, but you both figured it out, and you could only wish you had done that the year before, you wouldn’t have missed out on so much time with him.

But he was here now, all three of you were happy and healthy, living your lives as a family, and that’s all that really matters.

taglist: @vinceduhn @kempe @jackiesquinn @josty @kiedhara @literarycharleton

#jamie benn #Jamie benn fic #Jamie benn imagine #Jamie benn imagines #dallas stars #imagine #imagines

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give-seconds · 3 years ago

Text

Back to You

Summary: You and Mark are all each other have, he’s easily the most important person to you. But something happens and you both are slowly separated, so you work your hardest to be accepted into a college in Korea so you can find your way back to a home with him again.

Masterlist | Main Masterlist

---Part 13

One month later

Donghyuck hoped that by the time the holidays came around, he would have gotten over this crush. He didn’t want these feelings to ruin the holidays for you. He is already dragging you to this strange place to be surrounded by his parents and younger siblings. The last thing you need is for him to start acting strange.

Jeno still wouldn’t punch him, even after he showed up the night before you were supposed to go to Jeju and begged him. Jaemin agreed, and for a second, he feared for his life. Jaemin’s punch, however, was just a pinch on the cheek. Needless to say, he was both relieved and disappointed.

So now, here he is, standing outside your dorm building and trying not to let his nervousness take over. He knows he’s being dramatic, but he really is worried about messing up your first holiday in Korea. That, and he doesn’t want to scare you away.

“Hey, you ready?”

Donghyuck jumps slightly, smiling as you laugh softly. “Yeah, yeah, I’m ready.”

“So I did some research on Jeju,” you start as he leads you down the road towards the bus station.

“Oh yeah? What did you find?”

“I heard that the accent is hard to understand. You can help me, right?”

“I think you’ll be okay,” he answers, laughing softly. “The people there speak standard Korean. The only people you might have trouble with are the older people. But I think you’ll be okay.”

“Good to know, good to know. And you said your sister’s names are Daeun and Jimin?”

He nods his head. “They’re very excited to meet you. My mom and dad too.”

You laugh, playfully glaring at him. “Don’t say that! I’m not that exciting.”

“Okay, one, you are exciting. And two, they’re excited because except for my dad—and that’s because he’s the most introverted of us all— they’re all very excited to meet new people. Especially if those people are a friend.”

You nod your head. “And you haven’t told them about me?”

“Other than you’re a nice person, no, I haven’t mentioned anything about you.”

You let out a breath of relief. “Good, that makes me less nervous.”

“You’ve got nothing to be nervous about,” he responds. “My mom and I are almost the same person. If you get along with me, then you will definitely get along with her.”

“I know I’m probably worried about nothing, but that’s just me. Once I meet them, I’m sure I’ll be fine. Plus, it’s not like I’ll be alone. I have you, and then in a few days, Mark will join us.”

Donghyuck silently nods his head as you both take a seat on the bench, bringing his suitcase to stop in front of him. He’s both excited and unexcited for Mark to join you. On one hand, he’s excited to get to know you better without Jaemin or Mark. Donghyuck wouldn’t say he's jealous of Mark, but there’s just something in the way you look at him that is more than a friend. He’s been meaning to talk to his Hyung about his relationship with you, but every time the thought crosses his mind, it’s followed by thoughts of how weird he must sound and what Mark might say about him having a slight crush on someone he hadn’t known that long.

On the other hand, that slight crush is the reason he wants Mark there. If Mark is there, then the majority of your attention will be on him, and any weird thing he does around you might not be as noticeable. Not to mention, he just likes being around the older—he’s his best friend.

The bus pulling to a stop in front of you draws his attention away from his thoughts, and he wordlessly stands up. “You ready for the adventure of your life?”

You nod your head in confirmation, standing up next to him with a wide smile. He smiles back, letting himself get lost in your eyes for a few seconds. He knows he’s falling too fast; begging Jeno to punch him is proof of that. He can’t say what it is about you exactly that has made him fall. He just knows that every day, he finds more and more to admire about you.

“Okay! Then off we go.”

----

“Hyuckie!”

You smile, watching as his mom pulls him into a hug as soon as she opens the door.

He laughs, letting go of the suitcase handle to hug his mom back. “Hi, mom.”

“Okay,” she says, a smile spread across her face as she lets go and opens the door a little wider. “Okay, come on in. The girls are at the Ju’s house, so they’ll be back later. I think Haknyeon is dropping them off, so you’ll get to see him.”

You silently follow Donghyuck into the house, smiling softly at his mom as you pass her.

“That’s one of my best friends,” he says, turning to you as his mom closes the door behind you. You let out a quiet ah, not sure how else to respond.

“Mom, this is y/n,” He introduces, turning to face his mom. “Y/n, this is my mom.”

“Nice to meet you,” you greet, bowing.

“It’s nice to meet you too, y/n. Come, let me show you to your room.”

You and Donghyuck follow his mom as she leads you around the house. “Jimin and Daeun agreed to share a room. But when your other friend gets here, I don’t know where he’ll stay. Maybe with you, Hyuckie?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“And if you don’t want to, he can stay with me,” you offer quietly.

“No, we can’t have that,” his mom answers, pushing open the door to a room. “You’re our guest, and I want your stay at the Lee household to be as pleasant as possible.”

“I really don’t mind. He and I are like siblings.” You walk past his mom, looking around the room.

“Oh really? Donghyuck told me you came to Korea from Canada. Have you been here before?”

You shake your head. “Mark and I met in Canada; he was actually born there. His family moved here around my second year of high school. But before he moved, we pretty much grew up in the same household.”

Donghyuck nods his head silently, not hearing the rest of the conversation. He knew from you that Mark and you grew up together, but he can’t remember a time when Mark had mentioned you to him. Granted, he didn’t have a perfect memory, but he’s sure he would remember his friend saying something about a best friend he had to leave in Canada.

Sure, he’s only known him for about two years. Despite the short time, he feels like they’ve been able to create a special bond between them. He’s told Mark things Haknyeon doesn’t know, and he’s known Haknyeon twice as long—if not longer. The point is, he knows that the bond he feels between him and Mark isn’t one way. So why hadn’t he mentioned you?

“Hyuckie, why don’t you show y/n around the house? And then after that, maybe take her around the city if you’re up for it. If not, of course, you’re welcome to stay at the house,” his mother says, bringing her hand to rest on his shoulder.

He blinks a few times before simply nodding his head. “Yeah, of course.”

She smiles at him, sending you a smile as well before she squeezes past him and walks back down the hall.

“Well, ready for the tour?”

You nod your head, pushing your suitcase to rest at the foot of the bed. “Yeah. And then do you think we could go out? I want to buy your sister something for letting me use her room.”

“Oh, you don’t need to do that. I’m sure she doesn’t mind. I mean, she’s been telling me I need to ‘be around girls who aren’t my sisters’ since I was in my sophomore year of high school, so I think she’ll be fine with it,” he answers, closing the door behind you as you follow him out.

He still can’t get the thought out of his mind. He didn’t want to go so far as to say you were lying about your relationship—he had seen first hand how much Mark liked you. But he felt it was weird how openly you talked about your relationship versus how his Hyung talked about it. Which, until recently, was not at all.

“So, this is your room?”

He nods his head, watching as you walk past him and into the center of the room to look around.

“It suits you,” you say, turning around to smile at him.

He smiles back, a weird type of anxiety washing over him. He didn’t like doubting you. Worst of all, he didn’t like how nosy he is being. He wants to know why you and his Hyung talk differently about your relationship, but he also knows he shouldn’t care at all; it’s none of his business.

“Hey y/n? Can I ask you a kind of personal question that I have no reason to ask, and you can totally say no?”

“Sure,” you chuckle.

“You said Hyung’s family doesn’t like you. Why?”

“Not his whole family,” you mutter, breaking eye contact with him. He finds it difficult himself to look at you, instead, bringing his eyes to wander around his room “His brother and I are on good terms now, and I think his father is too scared to stand up to his mother and say he doesn’t have a problem with me.” You’re silent for a minute, and when he looks over at you, he can see you’re struggling to answer. “And as for his mother, it’s a long story. One I’m not sure how to explain right now, nor do I want to. But what I can say is that my father and Mark had a relationship she was ... jealous of. She had no reason to be jealous, but my father definitely went too far when it came to Mark. She hates my father—something I don’t blame her for—and I think I remind her too much of him.”

“That must be hard. Can I ask one more question?”

“Sure, I don’t care.”

“Were you and Hyung really that close? I don’t doubt that you two are close; it’s just that before you came, he never really talked about you.”

You smile softly, a faraway look in your eyes. “That is also because of his mom. We went through something big together, which means we’ll be together forever. But like I said, his mom hates me. I don’t know for sure, but I think that if he talked about me, his mom would be upset. I’m sure that’s why you’ve never heard of me. He was probably too scared to talk about me.”

Donghyuck nods his head. He wants to know more, but he knows that would be pushing things; he is lucky enough you told him this much. Maybe he’ll talk to Mark about it later, see if there’s anything he’s willing to talk more about.

“Okay, sorry for bringing that up out of nowhere. Ready to see a little of the town?”

---

At the end of the day, he’s glad Jeno hadn’t punched him. His time with you had been nice, and the dinner with his family hadn’t been as awkward as he expected it to be. Haknyeon had even joined them for dinner, adding a warm feeling to the atmosphere. He had almost forgotten how bright Haknyeon was.

Jimin had loved the gift you got her (which he had picked out) and told you that she would give you her room any time if it meant you could come over again. In short, his family enjoyed having you around.

Now, everybody had said their goodnights, and Donghyuck could hear his sisters talking in the room next to his. It’s good to be home; he missed his family. Laying in his bed, he stares up at the ceiling. He used to have stars on his ceiling, and he scrunches his nose at the memory. He can’t remember when he took those down or why.

Sighing, his thoughts from earlier come rushing back. He doesn’t know why it bothers him so much. It was before he met you. At the same time, he’s known Mark since he moved to Seoul; they’ve been each other’s best friends for a few years. So why were you never mentioned?

“Hey Hyung, how was the first day of the holidays?”

“It was good,” Mark answers into the phone. “Johnny Hyung was able to come back for dinner, which is always a treat. How about you? How’s y/n?”

“It’s been good! I got to see Haknyeon Hyung, so that was fun. I forgot how much I missed him. Y/n is also doing well. We got to see a little of the town today, but we’re going out again once you get here so we can really see the town.”

“Oh, that sounds fun! I’m excited to spend the holidays with friends. I’ve never done that before.”

Donghyuck nods his head, hesitating before asking. “Hey, can I ask you something about y/n?”

“Sure.”

“Um, so she told me a little about your relationship and why your mom doesn’t like her. But I was wondering, if it’s okay with you, could you tell me what happened between your family and hers?”

“What brought this up?” Donghyuck doesn’t miss the hesitation in his hyung’s voice.

“Y/n was talking to my mom about how you and her were like siblings when you were younger, and I thought about how I don’t think you’ve ever mentioned her before. I asked her why she thought that was, and she said it was because your mom doesn’t like her. I don’t know how to put this without sounding like I’m accusing her of being a liar, but are you two really as close as siblings?”

Mark sighs. “Yeah, it’s a long story that I don’t know how much she’s okay with sharing. But her and I, we have a bond. I can’t explain it, but I can tell you I don’t plan to lose her again. My family moved back here because my mom couldn’t stand y/n being around, so it’s not an understatement to say my mother has some strong, negative feelings towards y/n. So you can imagine how me talking about her went down in the house. As I got older, I realized it was easier to not talk about her at all. I wasn’t trying to hide it from you, Hyuck. I was worried you’d mention it in passing to my mom or dad. I’m sorry if you thought I was hiding it from you.”

Donghyuck knows it isn’t his place, but he feels like you and Mark aren’t telling him the whole truth. Of course, you and Mark are entitled to your privacy, but there’s an ugly feeling of being left out that he just can’t ignore.

“Yeah, no, it’s okay. I’m sorry about that; it sounds like it was hard.”

“Yeah,” Mark sighs. “It was. But now she’s here, and my mom can’t do anything about it. We’re making do. I mean, if Hyung can forgive her—and he used to feel just as strongly as my mom—then maybe my mom can get to a place of being okay with her.”

Donghyuck nods his head. “Yeah, I hope so too. Thanks for telling me.”

“Yeah, no problem. Hey, it’s getting kind of late, and I think my mom has something planned for tomorrow. But I’ll see you guys in two days, okay?”

“Yeah, see you then, Hyung. Good night.”

“Night, Donghyuck.”

---

I’m back! I’m sorry it took so long to get this out (but are we surprised?)—my life got busy all of a sudden (and I’ve been having some writer's block, but let's not mention it). But I hope you all have a fantastic day/night! I truly appreciate you all

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#NCT #nct mark #nct haechan #lee donghyuck #mark lee #haechan x reader #nct dream x reader #nct 127 x reader #nct scenarios #nct imagines #kpop #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios

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mostlycompetentwriter · 4 years ago

Text

Start Line (Part One of Two)

M/F Pairing: Fem!Reader x Bang Chan (SKZ)

Warnings: Language

Word Count: 7.2K

Genre: Boys over Flowers AU! Strangers to enemies to potential lovers!

Summary: Starting a new school is never easy, but the four rich and popular boys who pretend like they’re above the rest of the student population? Well, that makes everything even worse.

A/N: You don’t need to watch the show to understand, but it might be fun! AKA this is a Kdrama recommendation.

Also, I’m super sorry to the anonymous user who asked for this and probably impatiently waited for me to get a grip!!!

Tagging @skzwriternet

For my entire life, I’ve had to work harder than everyone else to secure the things that I wanted the most.

Which is why nothing could enrage me more than the sight of the four boys sitting on the bleachers together in my new school’s gymnasium.

I had just recently transferred into the school on a swimming scholarship, and a young student assistant offered to give me a tour of the facilities before my first day of scheduled classes. Her name was Suzy, and she had enough intel on the school’s population that even the CIA would be jealous.

I wasn’t normally one for drama, but Suzy’s warning about the school’s infamously named “F4″ was enough to leave me feeling cautious: “You see those guys over there?” she had asked when we sat down together on the bleachers. “It’s fair to say that they run the school, so most people try to avoid pissing them off.”

The boys in question were all starters for the school’s accolade-heavy basketball team. Apparently, that meant a lot in this affluent and well-endowed community, and I could tell that they considered themselves with the highest regard. Especially the oldest, a handsome blonde whose killer accent was surely the ruin of any one of those poor girls who flocked around them like they were desperate for attention.

“Bang Chan,” Suzy informed me. “He’s the leader, and his family owns an entire line of luxury hotel chains.”

“I guess that means something special?” I remarked, and Suzy gave me a curious look.

“His family owns the school, but if we’re talking worth, then his parents pretty much own this whole town.”

“So, he takes advantage of that,” I noted, and Suzy nodded her head before indicating to the other three boys.

“They’ve all been friends since they were kids, but everyone knows that Chan and Changbin are super close.”

“Changbin?” I questioned, and Suzy pointed to the introspective and sullen-looking student who was ignoring all of the other girls with narrowed dark eyes.

“His parents died when he was young,” she explained. “He lives with his grandfather.”

“Oh?” I wondered, and I looked at Changbin again with a fresh perspective - as someone who had experienced trauma that would follow him for the rest of his life.

“Felix and Minho are the real fuckboys,” Suzy continued. “They’re notorious for the weekend rule.”

“The weekend rule?”

“Find a college party, hook-up with a nameless girl, and then leave her before she’s too attached.”

“Fuck boys,” I grumbled in agreement, and Suzy sighed as if she had personal experience...but I seriously doubted that someone of her caliber would stoop so low knowing full well what kind of reputation she was dealing with.

“The entire school is at their beck and call,” she said. “They do whatever they want, and nobody ever questions them.”

“Well, I’m here to graduate and find a good college for swimming,” I said, meeting Chan’s gaze from a distance. “I don’t have time for games.”

The ominous faction leader smirked as he held my stare, eyeing me up and down with a flicker of interest that I chose to ignore when Suzy asked if I wanted to finish the rest of our tour.

Day One

On my first day of classes, Suzy was kind enough to stick close to my side, although I was beginning to see that she wasn’t very popular, and we were mostly ignored by the rest of the populace. Which was just fine with me.

“Check it out!” she exclaimed. “Our schedules are almost identical.”

“I’m glad,” I said, ducking my head to avoid a couple of rough-housing football players who were “playfully” knocking each other into the lockers. “I’m pretty sure you could get lost in here.”

“Well, ideally, most students start here in Elementary school, and they stay all the way through High School,” Suzy said.

“A pretentious education at its finest,” I remarked, wondering how much money was literally walking by me with every Luis Vuitton bag and Gucci-made uniform that passed in opposing directions.

“Do you start swimming after school?” Suzy asked, making easy conversation as we entered our first classroom - advanced biology.

“Yeah,” I said, following Suzy to the back of the room. “There’s a tournament this weekend.”

“Already?” Suzy gasped, and she plopped down into one of the desks next to me. “Will you have enough time to practice?”

“I’ll be fine,” I reassured her, reaching for a spare notebook as the teacher walked in to begin one of the most intense lectures that I had ever attended.

But the school’s Academic reputation was no joke, and I imagined that they hired the finest teachers that the school’s infinite endowment could afford - a budget that would eclipse the remainder of the public schools in the district. Yet, no one seemed to blink an eye at how obviously unfair that was, as if these well-off students deserved a high-class education simply because their parents made more money than they could spend.

My new socio-economic environment was becoming more and more apparent, and I was suddenly feeling every part of the outcast who wandered into the wrong part of town with good intentions. But a moralistic attitude would get you nowhere in life if everyone else refused to acknowledge the fact.

I learned quickly that the students at this school were only looking after themselves, but the lesson was hard to accept. Which might explain my uncharacteristic heroism when it came to defending Suzy later on that afternoon when she agreed to give me a ride home after swim practice.

I was outside, sending a message to my mom, when I noticed a black SUV careening backwards at a speed that was far too fast. Meanwhile, Suzy had settled down inside the car to start the ignition, messing with the dials on the radio, when a powerful jolt sent her jerking forward. “What the hell?” Suzy shrieked, turning around in her seat only to startle with that “deer in the headlights” look of absolute horror.

“Shit!!” she cursed, and I watched her get out of the car before taking a deep breath and joining her on the opposite side of her smashed trunk where a huge crowd of students had started to gather around us.

They were talking rapidly amongst themselves, and I figured out why they were so interested the minute Bang Chan and one of his friend - Felix, perhaps? - walked up to Suzy with a bored expression. “You do this often?” were the first words I ever heard from Chan. “I can’t believe you got in my way.”

Suzy immediately bowed her head - submitting to the older Senior. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, but I couldn’t stand to watch her expose her most vulnerable position.

“Hey!” I shouted, walking around Suzy’s crumbled form to stand toe-to-toe with the infamous Bang Chan.

“You must be the new girl,” Chan remarked, eyeing me up and down with vague interest. “I kinda expected something more when I saw you the other day...”

I seethed when his gaze fell lower, as if pointing out something that only hormonal teenage boys would care about. “I’m not here to impress you,” I replied, and he arched one brow.

“I don’t need to be impressed,” Chan said. “But your little friend disrespected me, and I think she should apologize.”

“You’re the one who wasn’t looking!” I snapped. “Anyone with eyes could see that you were too busy on your phone to pay attention!”

There was a collective conversation from the crowd, and Chan studied the growing conglomeration of students surrounding our confrontation. “Do you have proof of that? Or, is it your word against mine?”

“Someone with any sense of dignity wouldn’t act this way,” I countered, and Chan immediately started laughing.

“Oh? Isn’t that cute,” he said, eyes crinkling at the corners. “You have a lot to learn around here.”

“The only thing I’ve learned is to stay away from you,” I said, and Chan rolled his eyes like it was the dumbest thing he had ever heard.

And the torment only continued.

“Hey!” I snapped when he knocked his shoulder against mine, coming to stand in front of Suzy again with disdain.

“Pay for the damages,” he ordered. “And then apologize to me.”

“Chan-” Suzy started, but I grabbed his shoulder and forced him to turn around.

“I wasn’t finished,” I said, and our noses almost brushed from the minimal distance I allowed between us.

“I don’t want to hear anything else about your idea of honor or whatever,” Chan sneered, but he paused when I held up my phone, pressing the play button on the video which provided convincing evidence of the incident.

“What about this?” I asked him, and I could practically see him come undone.

“Give that to me!” he demanded, but I took several steps away from him, returning my cellphone to my pocket.

“But I’m sure the police would be interested in seeing it.”

Chan’s eyes perceptibly widened, and I felt a surge of triumph in knowing that I had the upper hand. “You wouldn’t.”

“Try me,” I taunted him, briefly glancing over my shoulder at his friend who had started snickering - like he was enjoying our fight.

“Fine,” Chan huffed. “What do you want?”

“You’ll pay for the damages to my friend’s car,” I said. “And...”

“And?” Chan snapped, clearly impatient.

“You can apologize to her instead,” I finished, and there were several consecutive gasps from the student population.

“Is he gonna do it?”

“There’s no way Chan will give in!!”

“Someone film this!”

My smile continued to widen at the jeers of my classmates, and Chan was finally at his wits end, spinning around on his heels to growl an imperceptible attempt at an apology to Suzy who could only look at him in awe. “We’re done here,” Chan said, and I shrugged nonchalantly, watching him storm away with his friend in tow behind him.

I sighed once they were both gone, feeling a sense of profound justice after proving that even the great Bang Chan could be defeated, but then Suzy appeared in front of me with a grave look in her eyes that told me this whole ordeal was far from over. “Y/N,” she whispered. “What have you done?”

Day Three

The next morning, I walked to my locker feeling every gaze turned in my direction. I frowned at each of them, wondering if this was the aftermath from the incident with Chan and his stupid friends. Yet, when I finally paused in front of my locker, an uncomfortable sensation of dread sent me into a cold sweat when I saw what was taped to the front of the door.

It was a red card with a black skull at the top and the infamous “F4″ written across the bottom.

“She got the card!” someone announced from off to the side, and it didn’t take long for other students to rush in my direction.

“The card?” I whispered to myself, remembering Suzy’s previous warnings concerning the exploits of the F4 boys. It wasn’t an accident that I had received this ominous warning, and I knew that I was in trouble.

Quickly, I darted through one of the exits leading outside, placing me somewhere on a small veranda where I leaned against the bannister overlooking the school’s athletic fields. “What the hell is wrong with this place!” I screeched, projecting my voice across the fields, and I didn’t expect anyone to hear me...

“Why the hell are you screaming?”

I paused at the sudden question, widening my eyes when I realized it was closer than I expected. “You come up here often?”

I staggered backward at the interjection, spinning around to locate the voice that had uttered the simple question. “Hello?”

There was a sigh, and then a familiar sweep of brown hair appeared from around the corner. “This is my spot, you know?”

“No,” I said, cringing at my tone. “I’m sorry, I had no idea.”

The recipient in question was none other than Changbin, one of the four members of the school’s notorious F4. His dark black hair was wind-swept across his forehead, falling in thin strands over attentive brown eyes while he leaned against the wall of the small patio sectioned off from the rest of the veranda. “Lesson learned,” Changbin continued, swaggering up the stairs to stand next to me, looking out over the playing fields. “I guess I can’t come here anymore.”

“What do you mean?” I found myself asking without really thinking about what it might look like to show that I was concerned. After all, he was a member of the same F4 that had just terrorized me with their stupid calling card.

“You’re here,” Changbin replied as if the answer might suffice. “I have a feeling this place will be too loud.”

He sighed then before starting for the exit. “W-wait!” I stuttered, unable to put together a logical sentence before Changbin was already walking back inside.

But Changbin’s unexpected appearance proved to be the least of my problems.

For the remainder of the afternoon, I faced an onslaught of humiliation courtesy of my classmates. Everything from jeers between classes, to more insulting pranks like decorating the desk on my homeroom classroom with vulgar language and pictures.

Yet, worst of all was coming face to face with Bang Chan himself who smiled some kind of sickening smirk at me before quietly asking if I had had enough of the torment. “This is nothing,” I growled at him.

“Oh? Well, it’s only gonna get worse,” Chan promised, and he left without another word, leaving me to stew over a powerful combination of anxiety and frustration.

However, Chan’s idea of worse was, indeed, inexcusable. And I nearly screamed when I went to swim that afternoon, only to discover the pool littered with trash. But there was nobody around to help, and I spent the entirety of my scheduled practice time cleaning up with water, wrinkling my nose at a few questionable banana peels.

“I guess he went through with it,” a familiar voice interrupted my trash session, beaming through the haze of disgust lingering with every brush of my fingers across sodden newspaper or moldy plates.

“What are you doing here?” I demanded of Felix and Minho - the infamous duo who were practically glued to Chan’s side.

“We just wanted to meet you,” Felix said, and I watched through narrowed eyes as they brought over chairs from the side to sit down at the poolside.

I frowned. Couldn’t they help? “Why are you interested?” I asked instead, bringing another load of trash to the edge.

“Well, it’s been awhile since anyone stood up to Chan,” Minho explained, and there was a playfulness in his gaze that left me feeling uneasy in concern to their real intentions.

“Doing what’s right shouldn’t make me a martyr,” I said.

“But it does,” Felix replied with a cheeky smile. “He’s gonna keep up the torture, you know,” he continued, waving his hand around to indicate the trash still floating on top of the chlorine-caked water.

“Forever?” I grimaced, hating that the word had slipped free without really thinking about what it would mean to admit such things to Chan’s friends.

Minho smiled, looking up at something over my shoulder. “I’m surprised to see you here, Changbin?”

I turned around as if it was instinctual, watching the same person from earlier on the veranda walk inside from the locker room. He seemed even more out of place than Minho and Felix, studying the pollution of trash swimming with me. “She’s interesting,” Changbin said, and I was surprised when my stomach did a few somersaults at his confession.

“I agree,” Felix inserted, leaning back against his elbows with his shirt sleeves rucked up high on his forearms. “It’s been a while since Chan has been this invested in something.”

“It would be nice if he could stop,” I grumbled, and I met Changbin’s sincere gaze as he knelt down next to the poolside.

“He’ll give up when he thinks you won’t back down,” Changbin finally decided, and I watched as he started gathering the trash floating in his direction.

Day Seven

In hindsight, my imagination ran wild with scenarios that were more insane with each progressive image that crossed through my head.

But what could you expect from someone who had just figured out that she was being followed by three burly men wearing suits like they were the Men in Black.

Each time I started to walk faster, they would also do the same. Until it got to the point where I was zigzagging around corners, doing my best to dodge out of their sight, only to find myself once again confronted with the strange men who had no intentions of leaving me alone.

Eventually, I paused on the sidewalk outside of the school’s entrance. I was running late that morning, which meant nobody else was around to witness this madness. But I was a strong, independent woman with a a no-nonsense attitude that compelled me to project my voice across the well-polished front lawn. “Excuse me, gentlemen,” I began, holding up my hands when they grew closer. “What seems to be the problem?”

“We have orders to bring you to our boss,” they said, which only confused me even more.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I don’t know who you’re talking about?”

“Our apologies, miss,” the first man continued. “We were informed that you might try to resist.”

“Like I’m just gonna skip school and leave with a couple of strangers who have no conception of personal space,’ I glowered, but when I tried to spin around on my heel, I found myself colliding with an enormous chest, and I sighed, realizing that they had clearly been distracting me long enough for the third guard to sneak up behind me. “Fine,” I muttered, rolling my eyes when he grabbed my arm, leading me to the sleek black car running at the front of the school.

From there, my day only continued to grow even weirder, especially when I found myself walking up the steps of a gigantic mansion that looked like it could grace the cover of Vanity Fair magazine.

“Where am I?” I tried to ask, but the guards ignored my question, bringing me inside the house where I felt a twinge of misplaced guilt for treading my dirty sneakers across the pristine marble floors that practically shined with my reflection looking back at me.

“Greetings, miss,” a friendly tone greeted me, and I studied the older gentleman who dismissed the guards with a wave of his wrinkled hand. He was dressed impeccably in a suit with a long coat-tail, balding gray hair styled atop his head in a delicate swoop.

“What’s going on?” I demanded, but the butler was silent as he indicated for me to follow him. Down the crowded corridors, decorated with large, extravagant paintings, and down the granite staircase descending to the floor in a circular pattern.

Down a stretch of never-ending hallway that led to a bedroom at the end where two younger women - identically matched in uniform - greeted me by name before ushering me inside.

“Can you at least tell me where I am?” I asked the butler who followed us inside, giving out instructions as I was forced onto a stool in front of a vanity mirror, wincing when the woman immediately started to yank a brush through my long hair.

“This might take a while,” she said, and I frowned at her tone, coughing when a fresh puff of powder was streaked across my face - compliments of another girl who had a palate of make-up balanced on her hand like it was a paint tray and my skin was her canvas.

“I’d like to know something,” I insisted, but I was met with silence, crossing my arms across my chest as I resigned myself to the unexpected makeover since it was a thousand times better than my earlier scenarios where I envisioned myself dying from a James Bond-esque death.

It was only a half-hour later when the women declared themselves finished, standing back to admire their work while I had a staring contest with the girl looking back at me in the mirror. Because it was hard to believe that it was me with neat ringlets decorating my scalp, and sticky globs of mascara and foundation hiding the blemishes on my face.

I looked amazing, but it wasn’t really me. Still, I wasn’t given much time to study my new appearance, and I hesitated when the butler extended a black dress in my direction. “Our boss wants you to wear this,” he informed me, and I hesitantly accepted the expensive fabric.

“Who’s your boss?” I tried once more, but the butler simply smiled at me before waiting outside for me to get dressed, and I squeezed myself into the exquisite gown that swept the floor at my feet, hugging my curves and accentuating my figure in ways that my sweatpants and t-shirts couldn't.

When I finally walked back out, the butler smiled at me in approval before waving his hand in a grand fashion. “He’s waiting in the living room.”

I swallowed hard, following him once again through the maze of the house while wondering who I might be meeting. A rich donor? A potential Sugar Daddy?

They were all grand ideas that proved to be far better than the truth, and I could only gape in surprise when I was led into the living room, only to meet Chan’s eager gaze from across the expanse of white, designer-brand carpet.

“You!” I hissed in an accusing tone, watching the butler leave from the corner of my eye.

“Were you expecting someone else?” Chan asked, eliminating the distance between us with a few calculating steps. “They were right about the dress. You actually clean-up nice, Y/N.”

I scoffed at the backwards compliment. “Are you serious?” I nearly growled. “You kidnapped me for this?!”

Chan looked at me in disbelief, and I wondered if it was the first time that he had ever been rendered silent. “Do I not get a thank you?”

“A thank you?” I repeated. Incredulous.

“I brought you here,” Chan said, but he was clearly hesitating. “I thought you might like the attention? The clothes aren’t to your taste?”

“Shit, you’re dense,” I muttered. “Why the hell would you think that?”

“It’s obvious,” Chan said. “Talking down to me the other day, pretending like you aren’t affected by the F4 card...you just wanted my attention. And guess what, Y/N? I’m willing to give it to you.”

I blinked once, trying to understand his ridiculous train of bullshit. “What?!”

“You can be my girlfriend,” Chan said, shrugging one shoulder. “It’s a pretty big deal, but I’m sure you know that. I’ll even let you hold my hand between classes, and maybe come to your swim meets or whatever.”

“Chan...” I started, but then I broke off with a sigh because nothing I could think of seemed like an appropriate response. “I don’t think there’s even a remote chance that I would want to be your girlfriend.” I shivered, releasing a groan just saying the title. “Whatever you think is happening…it’s totally warped inside that screwed up head of yours.”

“Y/N-”

“Please,” I interrupted him, holding up one hand. “I’ve had enough, okay? I just want to go home.”

“But...” Chan tried to protested, stuttering around his words when I yanked off the expensive heels, chucking them off to the side. “How could you not want this?” he asked. “The outfit itself cost over $1,000 dollars.”

“$1,000 dollars?” I repeated, widening my eyes when I thought about how many hours my parents would need to put in at our local laundromat business to even make close to the amount he just threw away like it was nothing. “Chan, I might not live in the same world as you, but where I come from? You don’t make friends with money...you make them from the heart.”

“Impossible!” Chan protested, even as I turned my back to him. “Money can buy anything!”

“Is that why I’m leaving?” I returned, reaching down to hold my dress in place while feeling a small sense of satisfaction at having left Chan completely speechless.

Of course, in hindsight, I probably shouldn’t have tossed the shoes because the cement was hot against the soles of my feet, and I had attracted more than one curious look as I stormed down the street in search of the main road to take me back home.

“Stupid moron,” I huffed, practically jogging down the road with bare feet and my dress hiked up my legs to prevent me from tripping over the train. It was probably a sight for sore eyes when it came to the rich socialites who populated the neighborhood.

But like the sun’s rays penetrating the clouds on a rainy afternoon, I heard the sound of a motorcycle growing closer from behind me. Until the bike was right next to me, and the driver removed his helmet to expose a familiar bush of brown locks.

“Do you need a ride home?” Changbin asked, and I swallowed hard as I met his steady gaze. It was a simple question, but the fact that he didn’t even question me about why I was here? Nor could I detect any judgement in those impenetrable brown eyes that held all the allure, sending my heart knocking against my breastbone once again.

“Yeah,” I agreed, taking the extra helmet from him. “It’s been a shitty day.”

“I know how that feels,” Changbin said, and I was surprised by his easy conversation, planting myself on the seat behind him.

“Thank you for this,” I said, wrapping my arms around his waist and shivering at the thick smell of his cologne.

“It seems like you might be worth the effort,” Changbin remarked before kicking his bike into gear, and my heart did something strange that might be considered very dangerous when it involved the F4.

But I couldn’t help it, and I had never been more at ease this close to someone else.

Day Ten

Despite my adamant protests, the school insisted that I needed to take a physical education course, which meant that I was forced to pretend to enjoy dodgeball with the rest of my classmates. Hiding out at the back while most of the other girls did all the hard work. But I was only meant for one sport, and dodgeball was as far from swimming as one could get.

It helped that Suzy had gym at the same time, and we talked between games, with Suzy leading most of the conversation.as she offered introductions for most of our other classmates. “Mandy,” Suzy grumbled at one point, indicating to a tall blonde with long legs and a permanent sneer. “She thinks that she somehow has a chance to be with Chan, even though he’s kinda made it obvious that he doesn’t think anyone here is good enough.”

“Really?” I snorted, seeking Chan out from the corner of my eye, playing basketball on the courts with the rest of the F4.

“It’s a running thing here,” Suzy continued. “But most people don’t even try since they don’t want to get on Mandy’s bad side.”

“Whatever,” I replied, averting my gaze when Chan’s eyes met mine. “He’s not even worth it.”

“Most of our classmates would disagree,” Suzy said with a shrug, nudging her shoulder against mine when one of the instructors ordered us to begin the second round.

As usual, I lingered at the the sidelines away from my team, making a half-hearted attempt to play along, especially since I seemed to be a recurring target, using other bodies to protect myself from stray plastic dodgeballs. “What the hell,” I grumbled, wondering if that stupid F4 card was to blame for my classmate’s sudden desire to single me out from everyone else.

I crossed my arms at the thought, finding myself once again looking back over at Chan...Did he think it was funny to make me a target of ridicule? Well, at least Changbin was being surprisingly nice, and just the mere mention of the older boy was enough to do crazy things to my poor heart.

But lost in my daydreams, I failed to notice that Mandy and one of her friends had stalked to the edge of the court, rearing back to throw their dodgeballs at me while I was distracted. “Y/N!” I heard Suzy’s voice scream from across the field, and I looked away from Chan only to find myself frozen in place while a dodgeball flew in my direction.

The sickening CRACK! of the stupid thing hitting my nose was audible, and I immediately tasted blood on my upper lip. “Go clean yourself up, Miss Y/L/N,” one of the instructors said, but I was furious that she was treating the situation so nonchalantly.

It was all Chan’s fault. Even if he hadn't thrown the ball, he empowered his classmates to belittle me at every opportunity, and I was tired of being the school’s metaphorical punching bag. And I hated the tears threatening to fall, refusing to show any signs of weakness as I stormed past Suzy for the girl’s bathroom.

“Fuck,” I cursed as I leaned over the sink, splashing some cold water on my face as I looked at my bloody and mangled reflection in the mirror.

This was the worst incident so far, and I hated that the situation had escalated to something physical, gripping the edge of the sink tightly as I closed my eyes to regain control over my breathing.

“Here,” a voice whispered from behind me, and I turned around with a glare already contorting my expression when I was forced to face Bang Chan once again.

“It’s your fault,” I replied, snatching the paper towel from him as I dabbed at my nose. “What the hell are you doing in the girl’s bathroom?”

“I’m sorry,” Chan said, but I refused to believe it was sincere, turning back around to check the damage of my nose in the mirror. “You didn’t deserve that.”

“You can’t be sorry after the fact,” I snapped. “You had every chance to make things right and leave me the hell alone.”

“Well, I can’t do that now...” Chan trailed off, and it was surprising to see him suddenly look so unsure of himself. “I'm just trying to help...”

“And who asked you to do that?” I returned, looking at him from the corner of my eye. “Even if you were the last person on Earth, I would never ask for your help!”

My exclamation was punctuated by a rather harsh sound after I shoved the paper towels into the trashcan, preparing to leave the bathroom before Chan grabbed my arm to turn me back around. “What do you dislike so much?” Chan whined. “I don’t understand...I’m rich, handsome, smart...”

“All of it!” I interrupted with a harsh tone, and Chan immediately stumbled back against the sink. “You must not realize, but do you think those things matter to me? Because I can’t even consider them when your entire personality is unattractive! Your arrogant attitude, your stupid face, and that ridiculous curly hair!!”

“Are you insane?” Chan asked, and his bewildered expression would be funny under any other circumstances.

“I’m not done yet,” I sharply interjected. “It annoys me that you guys are allowed to do whatever you want at this school, and the whole red card deal? Where you give everyone a free pass to bully other students? Like it’s nothing? That’s the absolute worst thing about you!!”

“Y/N...”

“Do I need to repeat it?” I interrupted once more. “I hate everything about you!”

The harsh exclamation was met by silence as Chan continued to stare at me, and I decided to leave him alone in silence to think about everything I had said, rejoining my classmates with a sense of relief at having stood up to someone who considered himself as better than everyone else.

Day Fourteen

“You should come with me,” Suzy remarked one afternoon, sitting next to the poolside with me as I swam my regular laps.

“I’d rather not,” I said, pausing at the edge of the pool to consider her request - a night under the stars, as the school’s dance team had proclaimed it, and it was one of the biggest school events of the year.

“Why?” Suzy whined. “The F4 revoked your red card, and you can meet some more people...maybe even score some connections.”

“Right,” I scoffed, thinking the idea absurd, but I guess it wouldn’t seem so outrageous to the ones who had been dealing with these politics for their entire lives. “I’m not really that outgoing.”

“It’s okay,” Suzy reassured me, and I could tell that she really wanted me to come with her, which is probably why I felt compelled to agree. But her smile and cheering was worth it, especially considering just how good of a friend Suzy had proven to be during the past two weeks.

And that’s how I found myself walking up to the school’s gymnasium that weekend, wearing an uncomfortable black dress that Suzy had agreed to lend me for the occasion. “You look hot, Y/N,” Suzy said, and I didn’t have the heart to tell her that my reflection reminded me too much of the time when Chan had brought me to his house to play dress-up.

“I can hear the music all the way out here,” I said, following Suzy up the gym steps.

“Yeah, this event isn’t regulated by the teachers, so it’s basically a free-for-all,” Suzy explained, and I desperately wished that I could find the appeal in that statement, especially once we entered the building, washing us in neon colors of purple and pink. “Let’s dance!” Suzy immediately cried, pulling me to the dance floor despite my protests.

Thankfully, I only had to awkwardly navigate the party scene for one song before Suzy became preoccupied with a very cute Senior boy from our homeroom. I was able to sneak away to the punch bowl, ladling some of the red liquid into my cup before bringing it to my lips. “Hmm,” I wondered, eyeing the drink because it tasted so familiar...”Oh well,” I said, shrugging as I proceeded to drain several more cups before sinking down against the wall, never noticing that a pair of eyes had been watching my every movement until a pair of Versace-toed boots stopped in front of me.

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” Chan remarked, and I was shocked that he had the guts to talk to me after honoring my request to be ignored for the past several days.

“What do you want?” I grumbled, reluctantly taking his outstretched hand to help me stand again because my vision was unusually blurry and my stomach was churning.

“The punch was spiked,” Chan said, chucking at my disheveled state.

“Spiked?” I repeated, finding myself totally incoherent as I leaned most of my weight against him. “When did that happen?”

“The Seniors do it as a prank,” Chan said, and his gaze seemed to soften as he held me close. “Do you want to sit down?”

“That would be nice,” I slurred, allowing him to guide me over to the bleachers where I dropped down with a thud!

“Damn, you’re pretty wasted,” Chan said, looking me over with an uncharacteristic amount of concern.

“I didn’t know...” I trailed off, pointing back at the punch bowl. “It tasted so good.”

“I bet it did,” Chan said, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he cleared his throat. “I saw that you came with your friend, but maybe you might want some company?”

“Sure!” I said, patting the space next to me. “You’ve caught me in a good mood.”

Chan grinned - a genuine smile that I could hardly recognize - as he sat down with a sigh. “This doesn’t really seem like your type of scene.”

“Not really,” I agreed, narrowing my eyes when the room started swaying. “But you’re not my usual type of person.”

“Right,” Chan agreed, chuckling awkwardly as he messed up his hair - straightened instead of curly. “Maybe we could go somewhere else?”

I frowned because, even though I might’ve been a little more than tipsy, I still remembered that I didn’t like Chan, and there was no reason for me to go anywhere with him. “Are you intentionally ignoring everything I said from the other day?”

“No,” Chan murmured. “But I was hoping that I could give you space...and maybe a chance to prove myself?”

“Really?” I snorted. “How much have you changed since the last time we talked?”

“Probably not much,” Chan acknowledged, much to my surprise. “But after everything you said, maybe I’d like to? And I feel like you’re the only person who can be honest enough to help me.”

“Oh,” I replied, slightly disconcerted by Chan’s abrupt change in attitude. “Still, after everything you did...”

“I know I don’t deserve it,” Chan quickly agreed. “But I think you’re one of the rare kinds of people who believes in second chances.”

I exhaled loudly at his words, and in part to keep myself from throwing up after all the alcohol I ingested. “Where would we go?”

“What about a date at the diner downtown?” Chan asked, swallowing hard. “With me?”

“Let’s not call it a date,” I grimaced, and Chan agreed, even though it seemed to be a reluctant remission on his part. “But, yeah, that actually might be nice.”

“Perfect!” Chan said, and he was already on his feet with an energy that was impossible to ignore. “I’ll have Changbin tell your friend. Wait right here, and I’ll come back.”

“Okay,” I muttered, clutching my stomach as I watched Chan run off into the crowd. “Jeez, Y/N,” I groaned. “What are you doing with this guy?”

It might be one of the worst decisions of my life, but something he said struck a nerve deep inside of me. He might be unbearable, but he was right about one thing: people could always change, and I was the type of person who allowed second chances...just as long as someone was willing to earn it and prove themselves.

“Are we taking your car?” I asked, staggering against Chan’s hold as he brought us outside the gym.

“Yeah,” he said. “We can take my car, and you can sober up on the way.”

“Good idea,” I agreed, regretting the decision to drink so much of that stupid punch with every swaying step towards Chan’s expensive sports car.

He had the decency to open the door for me, and I fell inside with a grunt, waiting for him to turn over the ignition before he started fussing over me. “Do you need anything? Something to drink? Are you hot or cold? Should I turn on the music?”

“Don’t ask questions,” I gritted out - a response to everything while I leaned my head against the window.

“Got it,” Chan said, and he dutifully followed through on his promise, never speaking again until we pulled into the parking lot of the diner he had advertised earlier. “Do you feel any better?”

I nodded, an honest response. Because the drive had taken close to twenty minutes, and I had found a water bottle in the floor, downing the contents to settle my stomach and the wave of nausea that only alcohol could bring. “We can go inside,” I said, rolling my eyes when he made a show of coming around to help me out of the car, grabbing my arm despite my protests. “What is this place?” I asked when we walked inside, choosing an empty table near the back.

“My friends come here a lot,” Chan replied. “It’s quiet.”

“Quiet?” I laughed. “There’s no way it’s quiet if the whole school comes here.”

“They don’t,” Chan said, surprising me yet again. “Nobody knows we come here.”

He gave me a meaningful look, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out that he was risking a lot by entrusting me with their secret. “Got it,” I said, miming myself closing a zipper across my lips (perhaps that was the drunkenness affecting my judgement).

But Chan still laughed, and then he went to the counter to order, leaving me to contemplate what the actual hell I was doing with the school’s literal celebrity who treated most people like shit, including me for a short while at the very beginning.

At this point, I really couldn’t blame the alcohol. So, what was wrong with me? Why was I doing this?

“Here,” Chan said, dropping a mug of something sweet down in front of me, effectively interrupting my internal conflict.

“Hot chocolate?” I asked, and I was definitely caught off-guard as Chan shrugged and sat down in front of me.

“I thought you might prefer this,” he admitted.

“Oh...” I started, searching for a good response. “Thanks?”

“You’re welcome,” Chan said, and he smiled as he watched me taste the foam resting on top. “Is it good?”

“It’s nice,” I admitted, and Chan had the appearance of someone who had just landed an acceptance to their dream college.

“You’re different from the others,” Chan said, switching the topic. “I like that about you, and it makes me regret everything I’ve done even more.”

“Yeah,” I huffed. “That red card shit needs to stop.”

“I agree,” Chan said, bringing his mug even closer. “My friends have wanted to stop for a while...”

“They’re way smarter than you,” I said, tilting my head to the side as if it might give me a different vantage point of the confusing boy sitting in front of me. “Did you really want to come here with me?”

Chan nodded, eyes gleaming. “You’re interesting,” he decided, mirroring the exact same thing that Changbin had said to me a while back. “I think I like you a lot, which is why what you said to me at my house and in the bathroom really made me reconsider a lot of things.”

“Oh?” I questioned him, amused by his reasoning, and possibly even endeared by his regretful expression. “I might learn to like you...” I trailed off, laughing at his puppy-dog eyes as he looked at me with obvious desperation. “If you learn to behave.”

“Is that so?” Chan remarked, and his smile was perfectly sincere. “Well, I think you’re the best person to teach me.”

And despite our complicated history together - unwinding after such a brief amount of time in one another’s company - I was more than willing to try for the very strange boy who was starting to show me the intricate layers underneath all the wealth and arrogance - a mere façade for something better, the potential for good if a brave enough person was careful enough to find it.

End of Part One

#bang chan fanfic #stayverse #skzwriternet #stayracha #chan fanfic #stray kids chan #stray kids chan fanfic #bang chan imagines #stray kids imagines #bang chan scenarios #stray kids scenarios #bang chan oneshot #stray kids oneshot #boys over flowers au #skz au #skz x y/n #chan x y/n #mostlycompetent #requested

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amberwild420 · 4 years ago

Text

one step back, two steps forward (pt. 6)

masterlist

Heroes are human under the mask

Walking to the class, Marinette felt light. She knew it won’t be the same once they get to the class. She sighed, a headache already forming about the excuse and accusation Lila will bring.

You know, you should come visit my place if you have time.

Kaylan told her breaking the uneasy silence. Marinette thanked her in her mind. She definitely ground her when she needed.

Is there something you need help with?

Not at all. My mom wants to meet you.

Your mom!

Marinette felt bewildered. This the first time Kaylan talked about her mom. She hadn’t asked about her parents. Everyone has the right to keep secrets. She can’t just pester someone for their secrets.

Not like Alya.

Yup! Mom wants to meet the girl who is sweet and kind and apparently became my friend rather fast.

I would love to. When are you free?

You can come after school if you want. I can text my mom the plan.

Sure I’ll ask my parents at lunch. Beside I’m meeting Luka and Kagami today at lunch. I can introduce you to them. They will love to have you there. Oh! I brought you some macrons. I wanted to bring them to you on second day but I was having bad day and then there was an akuma and I forgot about them. I’m so sorry!

Marinette! It’s ok! You are a human and mistakes happen. Don’t worry about it.

The said girl looked at her in gratitude. Never once has anyone allowed her to make a mistake. If it was as ladybug, mistakes mean death or her miraculous in wrong hands. And as Marinette, it means lectures to become a bigger person, good example or responsible person or worse the whole class ganging up on her.

Kaylan took the box and stashed it in her bag muttering about her mom being a ‘glutton’.

It felt nice, for someone to tell her that she can make mistakes. She might talk to Tikki about giving her a miraculous. For God sake, she needs a proper team with chat, Hawkmoth and Lila.

The sobbing from the class made them halt. They loud sobbing and people consoling her is definitely their classmates. Marinette felt dread in her stomach.

She knew what was about to go down. She had been through this too many times. As they entered the class, the familiar scene made her scared. Lila sat on the floor with all the girls (minus Chloe who just rolled her eyes) were comforting the sobbing girl. All the boys glared at Marinette.

Marinette! How could you?! You beat Lila just to get her for being close to Adrien. Your jealousy is going too far!

Alya the most loyal yelled. And like the domino effect, everyone started yelling.

You are so cruel!

You hurt poor Lila!

You deserve the worst!

One after another they threw insults. Marinette felt hurt. Weren’t they supposed to know her longer? Has years of friendship means they learnt nothing about her?

That’s funny.

Those two words made the whole crowd silent. They noticed the girl next to Marinette, who stared at Lila with a pout before turning towards Marinette. Lila gave a smirk. She didn’t knew it was this easy to turn the new girl against Maritrash. If she knew she had done it sooner. But her smug grin fell when the next words came out of her mouth.

Marinette you never tell me you can be in two places at the same time! You have to tell me about your ability to clone yourself!

W-wha-What are talking about?

Sabrina yelled at her like she was making some mumbo-jumbo nonsense.

Exactly what I’m saying. I mean Marinette and I were together all the time. I don’t remember her leaving me. So that means she must have cloned herself. The original Marinette was with me and the cloned one must have hurt Lila. It’s so fascinating.

Her fake awe towards Marinette made her and Chloe nearly burst out laughing. She was not rejecting Lila’s sentence and for the fools it was like she was sweetly blaming Marinette but smart people knew that she was calling out the liar.

How can we believe you that you two were together? Do you have a proof?

Alya the ever the poetic justice giver was now glaring at the new girl. (Kaylan: author stop calling me the new girl. I’m here for last 5 chapters.) Kaylan smirked. While it was a migraine to argue this class but to make them speechless is one thing that Kaylan love to do. More speechless they are, more peace she can enjoy.

Do you have a proof?

Huh?

Proof! Like you said that you can’t believe that Marinette was with me the whole day because I don’t have a proof. So do you have a proof that Lila was actually hurt by Marinette, like did you see it or did anyone you know saw Marinette hurting Lila? Anything will be fine.

The silence was deafening. No one spoke. Some opened their mouth to speak only to shut them when they realized that none of them actually saw Marinette doing such a thing. They didn’t saw Kaylan either. So there was no doubt that they can be actually be telling the truth.

But does that mean Lila was lying?

No.

Why should I believe a girl who arrived just recently over Lila who I have known for a long time…?

And yet you believed Lila over Marinette when some of you have known her since childhood if not the most of you.

The silence spread once again. Lila sat on the floor gritting her teeth. Her hard earned followers would just leave. She thought of a new strategy and a new wave of (quite fake that no one saw) tears came through.

What if you were there too?

She sobbed out and her sheep now glared at her. And yelling begin.

You would have been there!

You are just like Marinette!

You’re so cruel!

No wonder you became friends with Marinette, you both are so cruel!

Marinette looked in awe as the akuma class kept throwing insult after insult but the girl In front of her just stood smiling like some sly cat. It was like she like to rile them up. Marinette herself was strong but the way her friends had turned against her had broken her from the inside.

Maybe Kaylan wasn’t like her. She didn’t faced any betrayal. She might be an outside perspective.

“Mom wants to meet the girl who is sweet and kind and apparently became my friend rather fast.”

Her words echoed in her head. It was like there were some other meaning. Marinette shook her head and looked at the girl in front of her who was the center of attention of her class’ glares. But she kept her smug smile.

Her smug smile made the class angrier and the liar was gritting her teeth (not that anyone saw). But the slight satisfaction that came to her mind to see the liar agitated was pushed to the back of her mind rather quickly. (Tikki approved her chosen’s new friend and decided to give her lots and lots of blessing. Not that anyone knows.).

Chloe Bourgeois!

She called out loudly not turning to look at the said girl who perked up when her name was called. The whole class was confused and angry at the sudden turn of the conversation. Or rather the argument. (Even argument was a small word. More like accusation.).

I believe you carry make up wipes!

The very statement sent a shiver to a certain liar’s spine. She can’t be captured just like that. She put so much effort in this to make Marinette look bad. But the way that new brat looking at her she felt dread settling in her stomach. She was looking rather smug. She knew!

Chloe brought the wipes to the waiting girl who took one before slowly walking towards the girl who cowered in genuine fear. Lila felt like a prey. And she didn’t like it.

Ivan and Kim stood in front of her to stop her from approaching Lila or rather intimidate her. But Kaylan just smirked and swiftly pushed them down before snatching Lila’s hand and pulling to her. They all yelled at her trying to pull them apart. Because they thought that she was going to hurt their precious Lila but she has done her work when Lila was taken away from her.

The black eye that Lila had was now smudged and was spreading to the chin. She looked like a two face cheap knock-off. Everyone stilled. The make-up was running wild (at least the one used for the black eye).

Would you look at that...?

Kaylan turned the used wipe towards the class, showing them wiped “black eye”.

The oh-so hurting black eye that Marinette gave her is nothing but a load of black cosmetic.

Everyone looked at Kaylan before looking at Lila. The hesitation started to show.

Marinette could feel her cheek hurting with how big her smile was. She admired the new girl. She was smug because she knew that if she went with the flow she will still come out of it unscathed. Lila was the master of this game but Kaylan just threw her off her throne and took her place.

She could feel Tikki giggling silently and nudging her from the purse. Marinette step forward and took her arm before gesturing her towards their seat.

Next time you try to accuse Marinette or anyone for that matter make sure your lie is actually believable. Not all people are brain dead. I have seen my neighborhood gossip aunts lie far better than you.

Kaylan threw the wipe towards the tabloid reporter and took Marinette’s hand pulled her towards the back of the class. Kaylan didn’t missed the look of disappointment that Agreste threw towards the baker girl. But blocking his line of sight, Kaylan didn’t let them meet their eyes even once.

Chloe smirked and nodded at them, rather pleased at the drama that played out against the liar and her sheep. She gave a smug smirk whoever made an eye contact with her.

Now that’s a show!

Marinette took a double take towards the blond.

Glad to know that you find it entertaining, Bourgeois.

Kaylan smirked and winked at the blonde purposely ignoring the raised eyebrow the girl next to her gave her. Taking a seat, they looked at the class who hesitantly glared at them. It wasn’t as heated as before. Lila was gone. Where? Maybe to wash off the humiliation she faced.

But the seed of doubt was already sown in their hearts.

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A/n: ah! yes, the humiliation in front of the class is rather amusing but the class was still glaring at them. I wonder what I’ll write in the next part?

taglist:

@celestialmage23

@captainmac6

@skydisneylover

@miraculousvoltron

@just-a-bottle-of-chaos

@whiterosequeen23

@vinces-cove

@our-preciousss

@irontimetravelflower

@northernbluetongue

@constant-pain

@acelynlilsworld

@rainbowunicornspluscake

@namelesssky

#miraculous ladybug #one step back #two steps forward #original character #ml salt #class salt #Marinette needs a hug #someone give Marinette a hug #marinette deserves better #marinette protection squad

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meruz · 4 years ago

Text

Aforementioned long ask post please excuse me while i try to figure out tumblr's new text editor. I’ll get into the art meme questions first and then the rest at the end.

Ok first of all thank you all for sending in questions! Giving me an excuse to talk hehe. I’ll address these in number order. Here’s a link to the ask meme for reference but also I’ll restate the question for ease of reading.

1. When did you get into art?

Super cliche answer but I don’t remember a time where I WASN’T the weird art kid! I started keeping a dedicated sketchbook when I was about 12? But here’s a page from my kindergarten journal about what I want to be when I grow up.

2. What art-related sites have you ever signed up for?

LOL this is a weird question. Not sure why so many people want to know. Anyways I definitely had a dA. more than one dA account. I used to browse oekakis when I was a kid but I think I was only signed up to some small ones that internet friends owned. What else...? Mangabullet,Tegakie, Paintberri, iscribble back when that was a thing, instagram if that COUNTs, I used to post art on livejournal and dreamwidth too. Patreon, I guess. Gumroad, inprnt, bigcartel, storenvy all for selling stuff.

In terms of resources.. I have a schoolism account that I’m sharing with friends. Used to take classes on coursera for free. I signed up to textures.com for work recently haha. I can’t remember if I ever had an account on posemaniacs. Did they have accounts...? I definitely used to visit all the time.

3. Show us your oldest piece of art you have on hand.

Alright here’s me actually logging into my old deviantart account. These are from September 2008 So I was 13 years old. I don’t have a deviantart account from before then because 13 was the required age for having an account and I didn’t want to lie about my age because I wanted people to be impressed by how young yet clearly incredible at art I was LOL.

4. What defines your artistic style?

You guys are probably more equipped to answer this than me but uh... I wanna say... Focus on colors. And... a slightly heavy hand? Like confident... not always well-considered mark making HAH...

Also I think I have a pretty healthy mix of american comics/manga influences. I feel like people who are into american comics always think my art is too manga and people who are into anime/manga always think my art is too american. And I’m taking that as a good sign.

5. Do you practice other styles/have you tried other styles in the past?

I like to think I switch it up a bunch! I mean, these are pretty different, right?

I think I’ve mentioned this before but one thing I really took away from art school is that, for an illustrator at least, art style shouldn’t be consistent. Your greatest weapon is changing the aspects of your style based on the task, the emotions and message you want to illustrate etc. So depending on the project I’m working on, the fandom I’m drawing for, whether I want something to be funny or serious or dramatic, I’ll change things about my style all the time.

One thing I don’t rly post on here is really tight polished work and that’s because I do that for my day job haha. If you’re not paying me... I’m probably not gonna color in the lines.

6. What levels of artistic education have you had?

I have a whole ass diploma LOL. Bachelor of Fine Arts in Illustration. from the Rhode Island School of Design. And I had a great college experience tbh. Besides the student loans. If any of you guys are thinking about art school feel free to e-mail or message me questions or concerns, I’ll be happy to help. Be as honest as I can be.

7. Show us at least one picture you drew or sketched recently that you did not put on a public site.

heres the wandavision kids. Uhh what else do I have...I feel like I’m rummaging for loose change here...

assorted valentines prep doodles

8. What is your favourite piece that you have done?

Well, obviously this is gonna change all the time and generally it’s gonna be my most recent piece LOL. So yeah, why the hell not. I’ll say it’s this one. I have a pretty short memory which I count as a blessing for an artist. I don’t dwell that long on older work and it keeps me moving forward.

10. What do you like most about your art?

I like that it’s something that only I would make! I had this thought fairly recently and I wrote it down in my sketchbook, it’s pretty cheesy and rambling but it felt revolutionary at the time:

So yeah. I like my art best when it’s the most me and for me. And I like it least when it feels like I’m just making something for social media or for other people’s expectations or whatever.

14. What do you like drawing the most?

Kids in baggy clothing are like my go-to LOL idk if that’s obvious. but also I like being challenged so lately I’ve really loved drawing multi-character compositions, environments, weird angles, etc.

oh i LOVE drawing the underside of shoes lol. And bandages. People that are kinda beat up.. I think it comes from getting a bunch of cuts all the time. I’m always patching myself up and I want to patch characters up too.

15. What do you like drawing the least?

mmm I try to find something to like in every drawing but lets see... I don’t like doing commissions of people’s dogs. Just because it’s normally like... a family friend and my mom volunteered me without my consent and I don’t even really know what they’re expecting me to draw and I don’t even get to meet the dog. Also I’m not that great at dog anatomy. Trying to learn though.

18. What is your purpose for drawing?

This could have a million answers! Uhhh to GIT GOOD??? But also to express myself... and also to make money... I mean it depends on what the drawing IS. I draw fanart mostly to connect to people in the fandom so if you ever see me drawing fanart please take it as like an open invitation to talk to me about the character haha.

20. How would you rank your art? (poor, mediocre, good, etc.)

Good!!! I have a lot of self-confidence primarily born out of ignorance and a short attention span. If I don’t think too hard about how many other artists are mindblowingly unfathombly good... its easy to think I’m good too! LOL

In all seriousness though, I think the opinion a person has of their art is like a crazy balancing act, right? Like you have to think you suck enough to want to get better but also you have to think you’re good enough to not want to give up. I think we’re all walking that line, I know I am! But also I’m a glass half-full type of person so. Most of the time I feel good about it.

22. List at least one of your “artspirations.”

This is a good question because I’ve been trying and failing to put together one of those “influence map” memes for like a full month now. What’s giving me a hard time is I feel like none of these are actually really obvious “““influences”““ in my art? Like it’s hard to see a lot of them in the work I make...? But idk maybe you guys’ll see what I can’t.

And these are just a couple! God there’s so many more. I could talk about other artists for ages, from all different genres of art. Daumier, Rockwell like every illustrator out there, Dana Gibson, Alex Toth, Hiroshi Yoshida, a lot of the Brandywine School. Lots of current working artists too, Karl Kerschl, frikkin Masashi Kishimoto lol, Jake Wyatt, Richie Pope, Edouard Caplain, Matt Cook, Sachin Teng, - lots of big internet artists, Sophie Li, Freddy Carrasco, Milliofish, Angela Sung... like all my friends from art school too. I could just keep going but I’ll stop for now lol.

24. Do you have a shameful art past? (recolour sprite comics, tracing art, etc.)

I mean if that’s how we’re defining shameful?? sure LOL. It’s not sprite comics but I used to do pokemon sprite recolors all the time. And I used to trace manga panels and color them... Granted this was all when I was like under 12 yrs old so it’s not even embarrassing. Can you really call it shameful when a 7 year old wets the bed or whatever? Not really. In fact some of these are cool as fuck. Look

25. Draw a picture!

Man I’m so tired now but here.

I used to get a lot of compliments for drawing people smiling lol but I don’t think I’ve drawn a lot of smiling lately.. here’s proof I’ve still got it.

OK MEME DONE. onto the rest.

I read this ask first thing when i opened my computer in the morning and it made me really emotional.. I’m so glad my sketches could help you!!

I think a lot of artists on social media talk about the struggle of making art but imo not enough people talk about the joy! Like I know it’s corny but. I really meant what I said at the beginning of that sketchbook about re-contextualizing art around process and progress > product and perfection. I think its super important..! The strength of messy, unfinished, and energetic art! For the feeling of it, for the love it!

That's crazy!!! I hope you like 'em. The whole line of x-books is really good rn imo.

Hi! I totally have the answer for digital stuff on my faq lol. But in terms of drawing on paper.. it varies! I tend to use sketchbooking and any on-paper doodling I do as a way to loosen up/warm-up or experiment. But right now my go-to aresenal is:

from top > bottom

- kuretake no.55 doublesided brush pen

- tombow fudenosuke

- muji 0.38 ballpoint

- medium size poscas

- grey tombow double brush pens

- good ol bic mechanical pencil

not EXACTly sure which inking you referring to from my sketchbook but if I had to take a guess it'd probably be the kuretake no55. That's been my main inker, lately. Great for sketching with the thin end too.

You can print out and eat my art if you like. Just please don't mass produce or re-sell. <3

Thanks! I've come to accept that my art is always gonna be sort of gestural and painty naturally. It's getting it to tighten up enough to be legible that's hard lol...

uh yeah lol I agree actually. I think yolei is great.

I assume these asks are related? LOL

1) Yeah totally true. I love David.

2) I don’t take requests, sorry! But if you want to commission me to draw Legion i would be MORE than happy to. Just e-mail me at [email protected].

<33333333333333333333333333

#ask #anonymous

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readyplayerhobi · 4 years ago

Text

Flower | 35

; Hoseok x Reader

; Genre: Fluff

; Word Count: 3.7k

; Synopsis: You finally decide to take a dip into the world of online dating and find the Flower dating app. One of the top matches for you proves to be a guy who looks to be your complete opposite; tattooed, pierced, a metalhead and oh…incredibly handsome. What happens when you throw caution to the wind and reach out to him?

; A/N: Just a soft, fluffy chapter for you all after the angst and smut of the last two haha. Please leave comments and reblog it for me so others can read! Send me asks and so forth, we’re getting close to the endgame here so...I really hope you can spur me on.

; Flower Masterpost

“Ahhhh, I’m so excited!” Hoseok is practically vibrating in the passenger seat as you drive carefully, eyes firmly on the road and watching the car ahead of you. There’s nothing ahead of them but they’re still doing about ten miles less than the speed limit, frustrating you.

You don’t complain though, instead just sigh deeply while rolling your eyes at the slow person. It was hard to truly feel too annoyed though because Hoseok’s enthusiasm was so infectious. Which was why you’d been sporting a smile for most of the morning, thoroughly bemused by his excitement.

The reason for his bubbly demeanour today was because you were officially going to pick up your new puppy. You’d known for a long time that Hoseok wanted a dog; he’d loved them a lot and had always wanted one. But he just hadn’t had the time or space to get one, particularly given his old apartment not being pet friendly.

It had taken some convincing for you to say yes to a dog, mainly because you’d worried how Kasumi might be around another pet and also because you weren’t a huge dog fan. You liked them obviously, but they required so much more work than a cat. As much as Hoseok loved Kasumi though, you knew what he wanted.

The convincing had mainly been that he wouldn’t leave all the taking care of the dog to you. You didn’t want to end up being the only one cleaning up the mess in the yard or walking them, etc. He’d promised that he would care for the dog just as much as you did, maybe even a little more.

It wasn’t like he didn’t help out in the house anyway, he did because you wouldn’t let him not help, but you just didn’t want to get stuck doing all the dog duties when he was the one who wanted it the most. You doubted he would do that as he was pretty good with looking after Kasumi, even though she wasn’t even his. Given this was something he wanted, you had faith that he’d be a good doggy daddy.

The two of you had poured over websites that advertise puppies for sale alongside looking over rescue centres to try and find the best dog for you both. It had been hard to narrow down your requirements as there were some breeds that you just didn’t want to have and Hoseok had his own opinion on some as well. Other important things were that they needed to be okay with cats and being left alone during the day while you were both working.

But you also wanted something energetic when necessary and enjoyed walks. Part of the reason that you’d said yes was that you hoped it would get both of you to start going out on walks to just enjoy nature a little more instead of staying cooped up in the house. You always enjoyed when you’d gone out but it was hard to break your habits.

Your problems had been resolved happily when you’d been told by Hoseok’s parents that his aunt had a dog who had had a litter of puppies recently. They’d bought a female puppy and before they’d been able to get her spayed, she’d, unfortunately, got the attention of the neighbour’s dog. Which meant she’d been way too young to breed and they’d ended up with surprise puppies.

The mom was a working Cocker Spaniel breed with the prettiest colouring; a soft lemon tan and white with the most adorable eyes. The dad was a Bichon, a breed you weren’t too familiar with but who looked pretty cute too. What resulted was called a Cock-a-Chon, the most adorable bundle of fluff you’d ever seen.

Each puppy had the cutest curly fur and was the perfect mix of both their parent’s beautiful faces. They wouldn’t be too large when grown which was good for you both, as neither of you wanted a really big dog or anything. The puppy you’d both chosen was a creamy golden colour and you’d both fallen in love with her as soon as she’d fallen over her feet when running over to you.

Well...you say that you’d chosen her. It was more like she’d chosen Hoseok because he’d immediately ended up with a tiny puppy crawling all over his legs while her tail wagged at such speed you were worried she might hurt it. Needless to say, Hoseok had been completely lost to those sweet black eyes.

It had taken one look at you with equally big and cute eyes that had been earnestly begging to get your agreement. And that had been it. You’d officially known you were going to be collecting her a few weeks after that point and you’d let Hoseok name her, choosing Ciri from the Witcher series.

The time spent in-between that visit and going to bring her home had been spent making sure that the house was puppy-proof. You hadn’t known how to do that but the two of you had done a lot of research, hoping that if she was kept entertained enough then you wouldn’t have to worry about chewing or anything.

Given that Hoseok had been the one to want a dog in the first place, you’d let him run wild with all the stuff he wanted to get for her. There wasn’t any room for argument considering the number of things you’d bought Kasumi over the years and it had been heart-warming to watch Hoseok get so excited over a patterned collar and a personalised name tag on it.

So she had a ridiculous amount of dog toys already, alongside what you were convinced was a mountain of puppy food and treats, those mats to help house train her, two dog beds, a collar, a cage and lots of blankets to go inside it to train her for when neither of you was home. You hadn’t particularly liked the idea of caging her but you’d resolved to make it her safe space where she could go when she was feeling tired or just didn’t want to be bothered instead of punishment or anything.

Honestly, you’d warned Hoseok many times to make sure he didn’t go too overboard and spoil a dog neither of you even had yet.

Quite clearly, it hadn’t worked given how much he’d bought the little puppy. But again, you were loath to put a leash on his enthusiasm for it all. Pun not intended.

He never asked for a whole lot from you, even now with your three-year-anniversary approaching in just a few months. It always felt like you were taking a lot from him and not giving much back, so if he wanted to go wild and buy a lot of stuff for the new puppy then you weren’t going to complain too much.

There was a lot worse to spend his money on. Not to mention the fact that you weren’t even paying for Ciri. His aunt didn’t want to be paid for the puppy given she was going to a family member and she hadn’t even been expecting them at all. From what you knew, the other puppies had been sold for only a hundred dollars each. Just to cover their medical expenses up to that point.

It was a fantastic deal really, but you were mostly just pleased that Hoseok was finally going to get the dog he’d always wanted. He spoiled you often enough so you were revelling in the fact that you got to spoil him in turn.

That thought made you snort with laughter, the very idea of you two fighting not because you were angry but because you were trying to one-up each other with affection and love. You don’t get to see the curious look Hoseok gives you, slight confusion on his face before he shrugs to himself.

“I hope Kasumi will be okay with this.” Whispering the words, you frown slightly as you watch the road ahead. There’s only maybe another five minutes before you’ll both be there, reading to pick up Ciri and take her home but you’re a little worried about your other pet.

Ciri would probably be fine with her, being so young that she’d grow up with the cat as her big sister. But Kasumi had spent a long time with it being just her getting all the attention from you, and Hoseok when he’d entered her life. Not to mention the fact that she could hurt Ciri if they didn’t get on, those sharp claws easily causing harm to the tiny puppy.

“We’ll take it slow. The good thing about cats is that they can take themselves away if they’re not happy. She’s used to Ciri’s scent and we’ve got plenty of treats and toys for her too so she doesn’t feel so left out. We just have to make sure that we don’t let Ciri overwhelm her. She’ll be okay Meeps.” Hoseok reaches out and takes your hand, rubbing at your knuckles in reassurance.

His aunt had sent over some blankets and toys that she’d rubbed all over Ciri, soaking them in the puppy’s scent so that you could introduce it to Kasumi. Hopefully, it would mean that while your beloved cat probably wouldn’t appreciate the exuberance of her new sister but she would at least recognise the smell.

“Is it silly that I’m worrying about stuff like that? I mean...your friends are getting married and having babies but I’m here just concerned that my cat might not like our puppy.” That makes Hoseok snort in amusement, slipping his hand beneath yours to link your fingers together before squeezing.

“Hey...that’s their choice. We’ve chosen to have furbabies instead, nothing wrong with that.” Wrinkling your nose, you indicate to turn right and drive slowly down the street his aunt lives on. It’s a nice area with large houses set back from the road, each one having an equally big drive leading to two-car garages. Tall trees, probably decades old at this point, line along the street with luscious green grass between each one and the dips allowing cars to park.

Much like the rest of Hoseok’s family, his aunt is pretty wealthy. She never had any kids though, living in her beautiful house with her wife and a menagerie of animals. Alongside the cocker spaniel that had gotten pregnant; she also had a chocolate labrador, a black cocker spaniel, a parakeet and three cats. It was your idea of a dream in terms of all the animals but the clean up must be terrible.

Pulling into her driveway, you take in the sight of her house once more in awe. You doubt anyone in your family could ever afford something like this and it still leaves you with a sense of imposter syndrome when you realise just how rich Hoseok’s whole family is.

Thankfully though, he’d never made it an issue.

“Oh my god! Come on! Let’s go.” Hoseok practically squeals, his excitement making him look so young and completely at odds with his metalhead appearance. Snorting, you can’t help but smirk as you turn off the engine as he’s already out of the car. Sighing affectionately, you follow him at a much slower pace.

He’s already vanished into the house by the time you get to the door, his aunt, Miyeon, standing with the door held open and an exasperated look on her face. Smiling at her, you take your shoes off and hand her the bag that you’d prepared earlier with an apologetic look on your face.

“Hi, Auntie! How are you? Oh, I’m good thanks Hoseok, and you?” She says sarcastically, rolling her eyes at you. There’s more than a little fondness in her face and voice though so you’re not too worried that she’s genuinely annoyed at him, smiling a little brighter as you greet her.

“Sorry. He’s excited. It’s been like having a toddler in the car rather than an almost 31-year-old man. Thank you so much though, I know you didn’t want anything for her but I couldn’t just..give you nothing. Hoseok said that you collect wine and I don’t know anything about wine because I don’t drink but-” She interrupts you with a hand on your arm, a smile on her face.

“You didn’t have to. But thank you, I appreciate it. Don’t worry, wine is wine. I’ll enjoy drinking it no matter what, I guarantee you that. Anyway, come on. I’ve baked some cookies for you both. Hobi always used to adore eating them when he was younger; peanut butter, hazelnut and chocolate chips.” Leading you through her home, you can already hear the barking of puppies alongside Hoseok’s joyful laughter.

You don’t even realise you’re smiling until you see yourself in a mirror, your expression light and happy. Who’d have thought that just the sound of someone’s laugh could be such a fulfilling experience?

“Ahhh, so that’s why he likes them. He always asks me to bake those if I’m in that kind of mood. Always thought it was a bit odd as he doesn’t eat anything else with peanut butter, just those. Seemed a strange combination for him to love.” Her kitchen is just as big as the rest of the house, tastefully decorated with all the latest appliances.

You were a little envious of her fridge. It was one of those super fancy Samsung ones where you could see inside without even opening the door thanks to a panel on the front alongside what you could only describe as a tablet embedded into the door. Who needed to watch Netflix on their fridge?

But all you can truly focus on is the delicious scent of freshly baked cookies. Inhaling deeply, you hum and can’t help but wiggle in delight. His aunt laughs, handing one to you and you eat it quickly. They’re not your favourite flavour but you’d never turn down a homemade cookie.

Especially when it was still warm and slightly gooey.

“Go on, go take one to Hoseok. If he’s not gone into a puppy coma or something. Bora is working late tonight so she won’t be home,” She mentions her wife, letting you know that you won’t be seeing her today. “And I’ve got some paperwork to catch up on. Just let me know when you’re ready to go.”

“Are you sure? Do you need any help?” Shaking her head, Miyeon smiles softly at you before suddenly cupping your cheek. Her hands are soft, likely through years of a careful skincare regime, and warm but there’s nothing strange about it. More like she’s just observing you.

“He’s lucked out with you, does he know that?” Snorting, you grin as you move away towards the sound of happy chaos. Looking back at her, you hold the cookie up with pride.

“I try to make sure he realises that at least once a day. Keep him on his toes, you know?” Her laughter follows you out of the kitchen and you marvel at yourself for how bold you’d just been. Your past self would be shocked to see you now, probably confused as to how you feel confident enough to say something so bold.

“Hey, butthead. You didn’t say hello to your aunt. That was rude,” You say to Hoseok, your tone only slightly playful. “Go say hi. Look, she even made you cookies.”

Handing one to him, you note how he’s laid on the floor and is surrounded by all the puppies in the litter. Ciri was going to be the first one to go so her four brothers and sisters were all still here. Small tails were wagging furiously at your arrival and you couldn’t help but giggle as they ran over to you, jumping and standing on Hoseok’s exposed stomach from where his shirt had twisted up and causing him to groan.

“Hello, puppies! Oh, aren’t you so cute!” Cooing to them, you hand the cookie to Hoseok as he sits up with a slight wince. For a minute or so, he just eats and watches you with the little ones as you play with them all, unable to stop smiling as they practically throw their small, furry bodies against you in an attempt for your attention.

“Go say hi!” Hissing slightly, your eyes narrow at Hoseok until he holds his hands up and gets up, heading out of the room to go properly greet his aunt. Once he’s gone, you look at all the puppies with a gleeful expression and sit cross-legged.

“Good, he’s gone. Let’s play!” The last word is loud and sharp while you reach forward, tickling one of them until they fall onto their back, showing their tummy for scratches and yelping enthusiastically. His siblings are barking too, tails hitting you almost painfully from how hard they’re going.

Glancing over at their mom, who’s currently laid in her dog bed with tired eyes, you smile affectionately before crawling over to her and giving her a loving stroke too. She seems to almost let out a deep sigh and you can’t help but laugh, running your fingers through her soft fur.

“Is it tiring, mama? All these babies wanting your attention all the time. I bet you can’t wait for some alone time. You’ve done well though, look how cute they are!” It must be a law somewhere that everyone should take to animals as if they’re human, especially in that voice that’s reserved for cute things.

But her big eyes are full of warmth and her tail wags lazily against the bed at your words, causing a few pups to try and attack it. You can’t help but marvel at how she just doesn’t seem to notice them, letting them do what they want.

“Not long now, they’ll all be going to their new homes soon. I bet you’ll miss them. We’ll bring Ciri by sometimes so you can see her!” The other dogs in the house had been socialised with the puppies for the last few weeks and Choco, the labrador was currently laid out against the couch. He was watching you carefully but for the most part, didn’t seem to be too bothered by all the noise.

You presumed that Bella, the other spaniel, was with Miyeon in her office.

“Okay, I said hello. And apologised,” Hoseok said, sitting down next to you and immediately welcoming two puppies onto his lap. “Sorry, I was rude, you’re right. They’re even cuter than last time.”

Grabbing one of the toys they had, he played with one of them enthusiastically until the puppy seemed to exhaust itself. There was a brief moment where it tried hard to keep up but then the next thing you knew, it was fast asleep on the floor. Laughing, you pointed at it before grinning at Hoseok.

“Oh my god, it’s you when you’re drunk.”

That gets a playful scowl but he just shrugs, reaching over to rub Choco’s ears to make sure he didn’t feel left out by it all. The labrador’s long tail beats against the floor tiredly, almost like he can’t be bothered to do it and you smirk at the sight. No doubt all the animals in the house are feeling a little tired and overwhelmed with all the excitement that’s been happening.

Finally, though, the puppies all seem to lose their energy and start to fall asleep wherever they are. Soon enough, you’re surrounded by bundles of fluff that are all twitching in their sleep, the silence pleasant after all their noise.

Hoseok carefully, and slowly, lifts Ciri into his lap. Her colouring was more cream than the rest of them, the others skewing more towards an almost golden tan. It had been part of the reason he’d named her Ciri. Her character in the show, video game and book series was infamous for her ash-blonde hair.

She doesn’t wake up, even as he takes off the coloured collar that had indicated whose puppy she was and replaces it with the one you’d both bought. The tag clunks loudly against the metal ring, causing you both to pause in fear that you’ve woken the others up but none of them stirs.

Finally, he shuffles back until he’s resting against the couch next to you, Ciri sleeping soundly in his arms and looks at you with a bright grin. The sheer amount of affection and happiness in that expression makes your heart physically ache, causing you to press a hand to it without realising.

“Ahh, we have a dog!” He whispers, eyes dancing as he tilts until he’s leaning heavily against you. His head rests on your shoulder and you smile, kissing his hair and just inhaling deeply. The smell of him always makes you feel content and relaxed, but even more so right now after all the chaos of the puppies for the last fifteen minutes.

“We do. Happy?” Nodding, he looks up at you before carefully reaching and cupping your cheek. His hands are rougher than his aunts, but you lean into the touch happily. There’s a brief pause before he kisses you, the movement soft and gentle with no real pressure. It’s more of an ‘I’m-happy’ kiss than anything else and you reciprocate it with ease.

The two of you stay in comfortable silence after that, just stroking and admiring Ciri for a while with no inclination to move just yet. You didn’t want to take her from her family so soon, even if you were her new family now. She should get to play with them all one last time before she goes.

“God, if you told college Hoseok that in a decade he’d been in a long-term relationship with a job, a house, a car, a dog and a cat...well let’s just say that laughing would have been the politest thing he could have done.”

“You know, I was thinking something like that earlier. I don’t think my old me would even recognise me now. But I think that’s for the better. I like who I am now, where I am now.” Stroking Ciri’s velvet-soft ears, you don’t see the fond smile on Hoseok’s face.

“I love you.” Smiling shyly, you take the chance to lean against him now and rest your head. Gently, you poke at his arm in your silent language, letting him know that you reciprocate before sighing contentedly.

For once, you finally felt completely at ease.

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elizabethemerald · 3 years ago

Text

Jim is Honest; Chap 7

Barbara watched Jim anxiously pace around the kitchen, putting the last of the dishes away. The meal he had just made her was beyond anything she’s had recently. Jim had really pulled out all of the stops. Now she was watching him fiddle in the kitchen.

“Hey mom I wanted you to have this.” He said. She arched an eyebrow, then her heart dropped as she saw the sealed letter in his hand.

The grandiose meal. A letter addressed with just her name. Jim’s anxiety throughout the night. This was someone preparing to say goodbye. If she didn’t know better she would say the letter could contain a sucide note.

“Jim what is this about?” Barbara forced herself not to snap at him. She ignored the letter as her own fear drowned anything else. When he didn’t respond right away she tried again. “Jim, please, talk to me. Remember? We can talk about anything together?”

Jim sighed and put the letter down on the counter. She could see his grief echoing in every line of his being.

“I have to fight Draal tonight. I think he is going to kill me.”

Barbara grabbed her son’s shoulders pulling him into a tight hug. Her boy. Her boy was on the edge of a break down. She held him as tightly as she could, squeezing him against her, surprised that she could still rest her chin on the top of his head. He still had so much growing left to do. So much of his life left to live. She stepped back to look at him, he had no tears in his eyes, but she could see his grief nonetheless.

“Let’s run, Jim. I can quit my job and we can leave Arcadia tonight. You won’t have to fight this Draal. The trolls wouldn’t be able to find us. If you pack you bags quickly we can be across state lines in only a few hours.”

“I can’t leave mom!” Jim’s voice cracked as he said it. “I’m the Trollhunter. I have to fight.”

“I don’t care about that stupid amulet!” Barbara’s voice rose. “You are fifteen years old! I will not sit by and have you get beaten to death! We will leave! Tonight!”

“What about everyone else?” His words made her pause long enough for him to gather his thoughts. “What about Toby? Or Claire? What about their families? What about everyone at school?”

Barbara felt frozen. The grief-stricken boy who had tried to hand her a letter was gone. Before her stood the Trollhunter. A fighter and a warrior.

“We saw Ms. Nomura working on the Killahead Bridge. If they open that… Gunmar will kill everyone in Arcadia. If we run… if I don’t fight Draal and win then who will keep them from opening the bridge? We have to stop them. I have to stop them.”

She hated it. She hated every word. And she hated the most that she couldn’t think of an argument. She had only believed in the trolls because of the trust she had in her son, the only proof she needed was the injuries he sustained from fighting them. No other human would believe they even existed, much less work to stop the release of a tyrant.

And the trolls were even worse. If what Jim had told her was true, the only trolls who even knew about the bridge were Blinky and Aaarrrgghh, neither of whom were particularly popular down in Trollmarket. And if Jim ran there was no way Draal would actually take the time to look for the bridge, instead she bet he would spend all his time trying to hunt down her son. All that without the complexity of the changelings and where their loyalties lay.

Jim stood staring at her. She realized she had been silent for too long. She took a deep breath, straightening her hair and Jim’s clothing. Then she nodded.

“Very well. If you have to fight him, then fight him. I’ll be here waiting for you when you’ve beat him.”

She wanted to say more. She wanted to shout and scream and argue. He was her son, he shouldn’t have to fight some troll to the death. All she could do was wait.

He gave her another tight hug, then left, running to Toby’s house across the street. Barbara felt sick to her stomach as he ran. She stood there in the living room watching the far house until she saw the two boys leave for Trollmarket.

Barbara waited a few minutes before sending a text to Toby.

[Toby, I need you to call me as soon as the fight’s over.]

[Whatever the result. I need you to call me.]

His response took some time. She felt like he was trying to come up with some lighthearted joke to make but like herself was struggling to come up with any light in their current tunnel. In the end his response was a single word.

[Understood]

As soon as she received his text Barbara got to work. Whatever happened she wanted to be ready. She cleared the dining room table and put a clean sheet on top of it. She carefully arranged her medical supplies on the counter, including all the tools and meds she had stolen from work for the past week. She set up her living room as a field hospital. Whatever shape Jim returned in, she would be ready to try and save his life.

When she was done with that she opened and read the letter he had left. It wasn’t as vague as it might have been had she not known about trolls. It was filled end to end with Jim’s love, about how he didn’t want to leave her. She set it next to her tools and ran her fingers across the paper every time she triple checked that everything was set up accurately.

She was almost at the point of tearing her hair out when her phone started ringing. She practically dove for it, her fingers shaking so badly she could barely answer Toby’s call. When she could finally get her fumbling fingers to hit the green phone she was so scared she almost didn’t put the phone to her ear.

“He did it! He did it!” Toby cheered, his voice still heavy with anxiety and now excitement. “Jim won. He didn’t even have to kill Draal to win. Now we’re going to go get tacos!”

Barbara only barely caught the last part of his statement, as her own relief swamped her senses.

“Tobias Domzalski! You will not go and get tacos. You will bring my son home to me so I can make sure he does not have any internal bleeding or a concussion, and then I will order tacos to be delivered.” She tried to keep the harsh tones out of her voice, but right now she needed to see her son, to see with her own eyes that he was safe and ok.

“Of course Dr. L!” She could practically hear his salute.

She made one last catalogue of her hastily assembled clinic. There were some improvements she could make. She made note of each thing she could think of. Now that she wasn’t terrified that her son would die and she would never see him again, she spent some time making sure that she would have a perfect area for him to recover at.

A few minutes later Toby helped Jim limp into the living room. He raised his eyebrows at the changes she had made, but it seemed his energy to question it was gone. She helped him lay down on the kitchen table and set to work. She gave Toby her credit card to order tacos delivered.

Jim may have won, but she could tell it had gotten much closer than either of the boys were currently saying. She guessed that Jim was still in shock from the beating and Toby was trying to recover from almost being forced to watch his best friend die. Still he was alive. And she was going to make sure he stayed that way.

There was little enough she could do for the significant amount of bruising on his face and chest other than ice it, but she could clean and bandage the numerous cuts from his rough treatment in the arena. He also had a bad sprain that seemed to be the cause of his earlier limping, that she carefully wrapped.

By the time she was done, tacos had arrived and Toby was already eating. She helped Jim to the couch so he could eat as well. While the two boys talked and laughed, the high of victory now crashing Barbara cleaned up her field hospital. She kept her tools and supplies near to hand and threw the sheet into the wash immediately. She was going to keep her house ready to go at a moment’s notice to keep Jim in the fight.

When she finally had the dining room reset to her liking she collapsed on the couch next to the boys and grabbed a taco herself. Toby was already fast asleep on the other couch. Jim looked like he was fading fast, the exhaustion from the fight dragging him to sleep. Before he fell completely asleep Barbara had something important to tell him.

“Jim. I love you. I need you to know, I love you so much.”

“I love you too mom. I’m glad I’m able to tell you that again.”

“Me too, kiddo. Me too.”

#jim lake junior #Barbara Lake #jim is honest #tales of arcadia #writing emerald

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