#i hope you’ll end up enjoying it once i’m finished!!! :33 though it might take me a while…

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

TIME LOOP OMG OMG I hope all the creative writing juices stay fresh for the entire writing process (lol). Time loop stories where a character tries so so desperately to change destiny and save their loved one always hit me so hard :( I’m so excited to see how you’ll write about suguru and reader in the story 🫂 good luck and take care !!

AAAAA THANK YOU ANON 🥺🥺🥺 i appreciate the encouragement soso much <333 TIME LOOP STORIES ALWAYS HIT ME SO HARD TOOOO…….. this one will probably be angsty and prose-heavy but i do want it to feel . Hopeful. in the sense that reader will never give up on him!!!! they’ll keep trying again and again and again….. and again………………….

i’m still not super sure how i’m going to format it, so!!! here’s a little (… pretty long) sneak peek of an interaction between sugu and reader that i’m not sure if i’ll end up including or not :’3 depends on what fits!!! but it’s one i picture them having, either way!!!!!

[shingia]

i’m not sure if you’ve gotten this request before (feel free to ignore if u have loll) but could i request how hq boys would help u when ur hungover.... cause i am big time rn LMAO please and thanks <33

✗ HQ BOYS WHEN YOU’RE HUNGOVER ✗

the way i ran to my drafts to start writing this omg 🏃🏻‍♀️ ngl it almost made me miss being hungover <\33 anyways- hope you’ll feel better v soon and are taking care of your poor hungover self 😽

-> timeskip! kita, kuroo, tsukishima, suna, oikawa

-> warnings : mentions of alcohol (for obvious reasons), mentions of throwing up and mentions of food

— KITA

• this man knows how to handle a hangover better than anyone

• he’s a moderate drinker, but his grandmother’s books contain the cure to everything and he’s more than willing to make you benefit from his knowledge

• he will make you drink these three bottles of water, that bowl of tomato soup and that banana milkshake with a tablespoon of honey. dehydration ? he doesn’t know her

• but kita also knows how important it is to not stay in bed all day, so he’ll insist on having you spend at least thirty minutes outside in the fresh air, most probably in your backyard

• you can refuse, of course. but he’ll take away your cuddle privilege immediately, so~ your choice

• also expect a lot a few disapproving looks,,, because as much as he loves to pamper you, he can’t help but remember the dozens of times he told you you’d had enough to drink last night. obviously you didn’t listen

• i think would disapprovingly care : like- lecturing you under his breath as he sprays essential oils on your bedsheets or tests the temperature of the bath water before letting you in

• remember the cuddle privilege i talked about? yeah, that’s going to be your reward at the end of the day for not being stubborn and docilely following his instructions

• with freshly perfumed bedsheets and his natural body warmth, you’re likely to fall asleep in five second tops. but that doesn’t mean he’s going to leave you, quite the contrary. no, this man will continue to take care of you in your sleep

• and by that i mean belly rubs to make sure your nausea is gone when you wake up, or gentle head massages to make your migraine go away. he might even brush your hair so that you won’t wake up with knots

• he doesn’t even expect you to thank him, because « isn’t that what all husbands are supposed to do ? »

— KUROO

• he’s probably hungover too because he had to finish half of your drinks,,, yet it still wasn’t enough to prevent you from waking up with the biggest headache

• in other words : dimmed lights all day. he might not even open the blinds. and to be honest he likes these kind of vibes

• sure, it feels like your brains are about to explode, and every single part of your body is aching (eyelashes included), but it’s cozy and your minds are too fogged to worry about anything other than getting better- so it’s self care and self care only today

• it’s likely that none of you will feel like eating something, but kuroo’s an athlete : he knows better than to skip a meal, especially when you both feel so weak

• so he’ll sacrifice himself and make the grueling effort of leaving the bed to cook you a little something, nothing extravagant but still enough to reinvigorate the two of you

• and since you don’t have anything better to do, you guys decide to watch the videos you took during the party,,, and slowly come to the realization that you have very few memories of what happened

• « is that you dancing on that table ? » you ask him, pointing at the man who is just a second away from tripping on a napkin

• lifting his shorts, kuroo glances at the bruise on the upper part of his thigh : « ohh- well that explains a lot »

• chances are that, because of his built, kuroo will feel better before you. so the true pampering will come later in the evening

• he’s got vitamins, ibuprofens, blankets, and his arms ready for you. you’re in for the deepest sleep of your life

— TSUKISHIMA

• « i told you��so »™️

• you would wake up feeling like absolute crap and he would be eyeing you, standing next to the bed with his arms crossed and eyebrows raised : « how are we feeling ? », even though the answer is pretty obvious

• but he knows that sarcasm won’t get him anywhere so he tries to tone it down (try to)

• you might think he’s not going to do much, but as soon as you step out of the shower he forced you to take (even though you were exhausted), you realize that he did do much

• the clothes you wore last night are already in the washing machine, your new ones (most probably his) are neatly folded on your bed, waiting for you, and he’s cooking an anti-hungover meal that he looked up on the internet

• if he has to study while you’re getting some rest in the bedroom he will put reminders on his phone every 15mn to come and check on you

• and he never leaves the room without lifting the covers up to your shoulders to make sure you won’t get cold

• he also wets a towel and gives it to you to place over your eyes if they’re sore

• but as soon as he’s done studying, he joins you in bed with greatest pleasure. and it’s a good thing that tsukki loves comfortable silences, because neither of you feel like saying anything

• you’re just laying there, letting him keep track of time since you’re too busy enjoying being pampered that much

— SUNA

• blackmail material for YEARS (in addition to the videos and pictures he took of you during the party)

• he turns this into a vlog, you could be half-asleep on the couch and hear him talk to the camera from the kitchen like « so here i am making pasta for this lightweight who threw up all night... i’m still waiting for my boyfriend of the year’s award... »

• but really, he’s just being dramatic. deep down he loves to take care of you when you’re hungover because you get much clingier,,, so he allows himself to be clingier too

• as much as he loves to lay down on top of you, the roles are reversed this time. because being crushed by a 6’3 tall man while you’re hungover is probably not a very good idea

• but before these lazy cuddles, he wants to make sure you’re comfortable : so he’ll remove your makeup (if you wore any) and give you his clothes because he knows you like how oversize they are

• so yes, naps and water are definitely the keywords of the day, but tell him once that you crave one specific food and he’ll immediately go get it for you

• he’s also surprisingly careful with any possible headache, so he’ll keep his earphones on while scrolling on his phone to make sure you can rest in complete silence

• however, at some point he will hand you his phone and have you record a video for your future self. something along the lines of : « hi y/n, this is you from the past. i feel like absolute shit right now so please be more reasonable next time... and don’t let rin get more embarrassing pictures of us »

• and you can be sure that he’ll use this video as a threat next time you’re partying. he would just have to point at his phone from the other side of the room and you would understand what he means

— OIKAWA

• he’s not the person to call if you want to be talked out of partying ever again

• because not only does he spend the entire day praising you highly for the way you looked yesterday, but you also realize that he loves your drunk self (as long as he’s here to watch over you)

• he doesn’t mind you complaining because he’s had a few hangovers of his own,, so feel free to whine about your stomachache/headache all you want

• and if you throw up ? it’s ok, he’s got you. and he’s not leaving your side unless you ask him to

• literally, he spends the entire day babying you. you’re feeling too tired to brush your teeth ? no problem, he’ll have you sit on the edge of the bathtub and do it for you

• same goes for washing your hair or getting dressed : there’s nothing he’ll refuse

• if your head doesn’t hurt too much, he’ll offer to watch a stupid tv show in front of which you can fall asleep without missing anything important

• and he’ll make sure to get the right cuddle position right away because he knows you’ll probably fall asleep very quickly and he doesn’t want to wake you up by fidgeting under you

• also: expect many many scalp massages. and his hands are the softest so they feel absolutely divine

• i think oikawa knows a lot about hydration so he’ll probably make you drink something like sugary water to give you a little boost. and if you don’t trust this drink, he’ll try again with another one until you’re completely hydrated

• and as i said, he’s very supportive,, almost too much : « you finished your glass ! i’m proud of you baby! »

taglist : @toworuu @catwithangerissues @miyumiya @livy384 @k0u-minamo2 @fullsundear @hsjvwq @kelsuuki @hiraeth-z @velvetvirgos @kirishimas-manly-eyeliner @47meow @japanesevenom @geektastic84 @noir-blanches-blog @idontlikeyourjob @seiri-ami @atiny-grl-with-luv @admiringlove @nachotrash @kellesvt @aintyourholy @Moonlaeli @catchmewiddershins @duhsies @devilgirlcrybabiey @crystal-lilac @ijustwantfreenetflix @mimaki @maitenight

[kumkaniudaku]

Understanding

1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17

Recommended Listening: Understanding x Xscape, Purple Emoji (ft. J. Cole) x Ty Dolla $ign, My World x Asian

Word Count: 2,137 

If you were going to win an award that afternoon, it’d be for attire, not confidence. Your expertly crafted golf outfit was the only thing willing your feet forward once you parked your car in front of Senior’s golf course.

Black women and men dressed like modern Jet magazine ads waltzed in and out of the clubhouse while you scanned the area for your party. You’d been to your fair share of golf courses, but none as exquisite as The National. Marble accents complemented modern brass finishes and unbeatable views of the city. The desire to take photos for your father was almost too much to shake, but you managed to play it cool. Acting out of place was surely some type of faux pas for the wealthy.

Across the way, Senior sat at the bar sipping a glass of water while thumbing through a newspaper. His furrowed brow was identical to Yahya’s whenever he was knee-deep in work or a good book. The mental comparison made you smile before ushering in a tinge of sadness. For two people so undeniably similar, they were miles apart physically and mentally.

You navigated through groups of young and old alike on the way to the bar.

“You made it on time,” Senior spoke without looking up from a story on education budget cuts.

“I made it with time to spare.”

“You don’t get praise for doing what’s right.”

“Think of how much better things would be if we did.”

Senior paused his reading to take a deep breath and shake his head. You mentally berated yourself for overstepping so soon. Not even five minutes into the outing and you had already committed an avoidable infraction

Yahya I prolonged the unbearable silence as he continued to read through another article, reading each line painstakingly slow while you watched in agony.

“I apologize. That was unnecessary.”

“I’ll ask you again,” he spoke, finally looking away from the newspaper to study your face. “Let’s leave the character right here. We’re here for a purpose, so grab your clubs and follow me to the first hole. I hope your game is as good as you are at running your mouth.” Taking his retort in stride, you quickly grabbed your set of clubs and followed with no objections. “After you.”

Senior found himself immediately impressed though he wouldn’t verbalize his feelings. He watched you breeze through each hole with near expert precision, opening a series of questions at hole 5 during casual small talk.

“Where’d you say you were from again?”

“A tiny town in South Carolina that you probably wouldn’t know.”

“Try me,” he answered while taking stock of his position on the fairway.

“Anderson, South Carolina. Home of Larry Nance and the great Chadwick Boseman.”

“Can’t forget James Kennedy, Young Lady.”

You cocked your head back in surprise. “What you know about Radio? I mean outside of what the movie says?”

Senior remained quiet long enough to take a hard swing. The loud “whiff” of his driver slicing through crisp, clean air didn’t match the stroke’s output. Both of you watch the golf ball sail high into the air before making a landing well short of the intended destination. Senior shook his head at the miscalculation before turning to answer your question.

“Black folks from all over are connected, even without all that Snapgram and Facebook foolishness.”

“I could argue it’s helped, right? How else would you be able to share your granddaughter’s first steps with the whole family?”

“In photo albums. You might not remember those, but they did us just fine.”

“Yeah, but it’s instantaneous conversation and information. Who wouldn’t want that?”

“Maybe instantaneous conversation is the problem. We aren’t making enough time to stop and really think about what we’re saying to each other.”

“Mm.” You let the conversation naturally taper before following Senior to his golf cart. The rolling hills provided enough scenery to keep you interested while you sorted the words in your head.

“I think we may have started off on the wrong foot.” You spoke once the cart came to a full stop. Senior trailed behind in silence, gathering a new club while watching you examine the other golfers in the area.

“You’re rather observant.”

You chuckled and plucked a club from your bag. “I’ve been told. Yahya calls me Eagle Eye when I catch something he’s already talked about ten minutes ago.”

“It’s what his Big Mama used to call his Pop-Pop for the same thing. That man was notoriously late to the punchline.” The nostalgia in Yahya I’s voice caught you off guard though he didn’t see your minor fumble. Something in his retelling appealed to your sense of compassion in a way that you considered long gone when it came to him.

“Let’s not beat around the bush. You have an issue with my presence that we should discuss. Because I can assure you, I’m not going anywhere.”

“Bold,” Senior responded with a sarcastic laugh. He gestured to nothing in particular as you squared up to take a swing and nodded. “And direct. Continue.”

You took a moment to hit a line drive toward the green in the distance, using the movement as an outlet for the unexpected nerves churning your stomach. Both of you quietly watch the golf ball for its final resting place before you turned to speak.

“You are extremely hard to please, and it is literally ruining your family. Yahya does everything in his power, and, excuse my French, you don’t seem to give a fuck. Why is that?”

“What makes you think that my love isn’t what makes me push him to be the best that he can? It may not be the fluff and frills you’re used to in your home, but it’s what he needs to get him to his potential.”

“Did it help you?”

Senior mistakenly allowed a quick moment of confusion to take over his features. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

“You tell me. When’s the last time you enjoyed a laugh with your family or felt like you could just...be? You’re carrying a weight that is crushing the people around you, and you don’t even see it.”

“You don’t…” Senior caught his words and bottled them behind his lips. He took a deep breath as he approached his golf ball and took a half-hearted swing. Noticing his misstep, he shook his head. “I’m from Baton Rouge, Louisiana. My father, Yahya’s Pop-Pop, moved my mother and me to a shotgun shack to find work when things weren’t quite shaking out back home. He was in and out of trouble and such. Couldn’t get right, but he had a natural knack for building and design.”

A nearby group of golfers erupted into laughter, helping to break up some tension.

“So architecture’s been in the family for a while,” you asked. Yahya I curled the corner of his lips into a far-off smile.

“A long, long time. It got us out of that shack when my siblings came along and into a house with our own rooms and a backyard. But, my father was a hard man. Hard to please, you know,” he laughed, making a reference to your earlier words. “He wanted the best from me, and he made damn sure he got it. I needed that to get my head out of the clouds.”

“You also needed some reassurance.”

“Perhaps. But, what’s done is done. I look at what I’ve built with no complaints, especially when it comes to my boys. I couldn’t be more proud of the men they’ve become.”

Senior’s proud smile almost looked foreign on his face. You’d never seen more than an indifferent expression or the slight twinge of anger smoldering behind his eyes.

Leaning on your club, you kept your eyes forward to gaze out over the course.

“Yahya would love to hear that. I don’t know if you know this, but he is desperately searching for your approval. There is not enough praise from me or anyone else that could replace knowing that you’re proud of him. Yet, as much as he would like to tell you these things himself, he’s afraid that you’ll think less of him for being vulnerable.”

“I could never think less of the boy. Tough love is still love.”

“Maybe for you,” you added, shrugging. “But, what good is continuing this cycle if it’s hurting the children you claim to love and the grandchildren after them?”

Senior dropped his head in thought before looking up with an unreadable expression. “Deuce will be fine. He’s all the best parts of his mother. I...I’m confident he’ll figure out fatherhood on his own despite my shortcomings. We raised him well.”

“Forgive me if I’m overstepping -”

“That has never stopped you before, young lady.” His light-hearted chuckle invited you to follow suit.

“Fair point,” you laughed. “So, let me cut to the chase. Allowing Yahya to just ‘figure things out’ is a passive existence. Yahya says you’re constantly reminding him to take things into his own hands. Sounds like you should take your own advice. Be the parts of your father that you needed at 33.”

Instead of acknowledging your advice, Senior twirled his club in his hand on the way to the golf cart. He maintained an impenetrable poker face that even the most skilled readers couldn’t interpret. You silently hoped that at least some of your words had made it through his thick skull, but you chose to let the discussion meet a natural end.

As he started the cart, Senior turned to you and smiled. “How the hell you learn to swing like that? I know it wasn’t in Anderson.”

“Hey, we play a little golf here and there!”

“Where? Out in the woods?”

“No, out in the Bayou like you did.”

A small smirk crept across your face as Yahya I chuckled at your joke. He sounded identical to Yahya, full of mirth and beautiful melodies.

“The ole Bayou,” he repeated in a thick accent. “You ain’t seen a place more beautiful in your life.”

“Maybe Yahya and I could visit one day.”

He quickly looked over and shrugged. “Maybe. For now, you focus on defending this lead. I think I’m getting back into my rhythm.”

Senior couldn’t make a convincing comeback, but he did show glimpses of a softer, more personable disposition. He cracked jokes on occasion and asked questions that turned the conversation from a therapy session to banter between associates. Your mind traveled to the possibility of civil family dinners or vacations during the ride home. Though it seemed silly to create imaginary scenarios after one conversation, you couldn’t help the urge to see a better future.

Your happiness helped you float into your shared apartment, making Yahya smile when he caught a glimpse of your wide grin and short skirt.

“Damn, girl,” he hollered from the couch with Leche cradled in his arms. “If Tiger was out there cheeked up like that, I might’ve paid a little more attention to the golf network.”

“Oh, really?”

Your raised eyebrow made Yahya kiss his teeth once he caught on to the joke. “You know what I meant. Where you been anyway?”

“Oh, I was just out doing a little golfing...with your dad.”

“Right. That was today, huh?”

Even Yahya’s best attempt at feigning interest, his question came out in a flat drone typically used on annoying coworkers. You dropped your purse and keys against a nearby barstool on the way to his spot on the couch.

“It was today. I think we had a good time,” you answered as you slid your arms around his neck from behind, placing a gentle kiss behind his ear. “He didn’t yell at me.”

“You must’ve kissed his ass the entire time.”

“No. We talked about how great I am at golf. I mean, I kicked his ass.”

“Good on you, baby girl. Bring honor to our house.” In a surprise maneuver, Yahya pulled you over the couch and into the space beside him. “Is that all?”

Silence blanketed the room, allowing the college basketball game in the background to have center stage. You considered your options carefully, weighing the pros of a potential argument against a peaceful Saturday indoors. Yahya turned his attention back to the television as he waited for a response.

“Did you hear me, baby? He didn’t say anything rude to you, did he?”

“No!” You blurted. Taking a deep breath, you slowly slid the remote off the coffee table and pressed the power button. Yahya blinked twice at his reflection on the black television screen before turning to you for answers. Your fingers danced across his thighs to interlock with his long digits.

“I think...I think we need to have a real talk about your dad.”

----

A/N: I hope this is better late than never. Only two more chapters left! Really striving to have those to y’all by the end of the month.

Let me know if you want to be tagged or untagged!

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[blinder-secrets]

White Lies, Twice Over - Tommy

#33 - ‘Please come get me.’

tommyxfem!reader, 3.5k words

prompt list

You’ve had your fair share of bad dates. Boring dates, awkward dates, dates with people you felt sorry for. It’s just never been enough to put you off. This was the first time, though, that a date has felt wrong. Dangerous. Your gut had told you the moment you sat down, but you’d ignored it. And when his foot slid up the side of your shin, you’d ignored that too. But the longer you sit with it, the feeling, the more nervous you get.

He’s being nice enough. Asking questions, smiling. He ordered a starter for you, then a main, now wine between to rest your palette. It all worked. It was all delicious. Every action has been smooth, charming. Flattering without being condescending. You want to enjoy it, but there is just something off about it all. Beneath the jokes, and the compliments, there’s something about him that bothers you. An edge to his questions. A game to the touches he’s placed.

Everything he’s done has felt rehearsed, practiced. So far nothing has happened without a motive behind it; he seems to know the cause and effect of every move that would be made, yours included.

He’s looking for a waiter, to pour you another glass, when you decide to do something about it.

‘I should call Ada,’ you say, hoping to sound convincingly innocent. ‘Do you think they have a phone here?'

His hand drops back to his lap, his eyebrows scrunch. ‘Ada? Who’s that?’

‘We live together.’ You try to smile as you answer. ‘She said she’d wait up for me.’

‘And?’

‘And,’ you drawl, buying time, ‘if we’re staying longer, I should tell her not to. She may as well go to bed.’

‘I see.’ He likes your reasoning. His foot finds your calf under the table.

He must have been successful in catching the waiter’s eye, because now there’s a man stood beside you, smiling and unknowingly offering you an escape route.

‘Do you have a telephone?’ you ask, praying that the answer is yes, and that it’s free to use. And that it’s far, far away from the man that you should’ve never said yes to.

‘By the bar, ma’am.’

‘Thank-you.’ You stand, too quick to be graceful, and bring the purse up from your lap. ‘I won’t be long.’

His lip pulls sideways into a smirk. ‘I hope not.��

You turn and walk toward the bar, hoping your gait is easy, relaxed. Hoping your shoulders haven’t pulled up the way they do when you’re anxious. It’s not that he’s done anything wrong, just that he might, and that the more you sit with the thought, the more positive you are about it. There are always feelings you should ignore, but never the ones that bite hard enough to linger. If it was first-date nerves they’d have passed by now.

The phone is free, hanging on the wall by the bar as he said. You don’t want to look back at the table but you do. It’s more natural. A quick smile over your shoulder to satisfy him, convince him you’re keen still, to make him think his games are working. He nods back at you; he’s been watching the whole time.

You pick up the receiver with a sigh and put in the numbers you need, tracing the vines on the wall-trim in front of you while you wait. They curl up and along, over each other and away.

The line connects. Your finger stills on the wall as it rings.

After what feels like an unusually long time, someone picks up, but they say nothing. ‘Hello?’ you chance, ‘Ada?’

‘So, there you are.’

It’s not Ada, but Tommy. The absolute last person you wanted to speak to. He leaves his statement alone to rot in your ear-drum. He knows it’s you that has to explain yourself, you that needs to fill the silence with answers to questions he shouldn’t have to ask.

‘Tommy…’ You start your plea, but the words sink back under your tongue.

You’d told him you were busy tonight, with Ada, that you couldn’t be free to do what he asked. The truth, of course, was that you had nothing planned. Not until your date had offered his company for the evening. Before that, you had just lied. Plain and simple. He’d asked if you were free to help him, and you’d said no. You hadn’t wanted to. You couldn’t be another peace offering to a scorned business partner, you wouldn’t be the distraction. If he wanted a woman he’d have to find another one.

Stupidly, it hadn’t crossed your mind that he might go to Ada’s. That he’d check what you’d said was true, that he’d keep order of the things that weren’t his. It had seemed like an easy lie when you’d told it.

‘I can explain, Tommy,’ you say, ‘but not now. Let me talk to Ada.’

‘Where are you?’ he asks, his voice so bare of emotion it makes you shrink inwards, against the wall you’re facing. ‘I came here to find you.’

‘Out,’ you answer. ‘Busy, like I said.’

‘But not with Ada.’

‘No, not with Ada.’ You’re holding onto the receiver with both hands. You don’t want to look back again. ‘Please pass her the phone,’ you add quietly. ‘It’s important.’

‘What is it, Tom?’ you hear Ada ask, though the question falls flat on him.

He interrupts you both before you can even get the word out. ‘Tell me what is is,’ he says. ‘If something’s happened, I need to know.’

You’re impatient enough to allow him that one. Ada or Tommy, the result is the same. It doesn’t matter who comes, just that they do, and quickly. ‘I’m at Vitelli’s, the one in Camden. I need you to come get me and give me a reason to leave.’

‘Camden?’

‘I know, I’m sorry, I know.’ You lower your voice again, though with the noise of the restaurant it’s hardly likely your date can hear. ‘I shouldn’t have come.’

‘Who is he?’ There’s a pinch in his tone, like he’s finding amusement in your disaster. ‘Must be some man, eh, to have you ringin’ for help.’

‘Does it matter who he is?’ you snap. Tommy doesn’t know him, and he won’t. You won’t let him. ‘I don’t like him,’ you say, adding, ‘I don’t trust him,’ after a pause. It’s that part that makes Tommy stop. When he replies, the humour has gone.  

‘What’s happened?’ his voice is low, serious. ‘Did he touch you?’

The question sinks in your stomach. ‘No.’

‘Will he?’

You hesitate. The blankness of his tone hinders you; whether he’s asking if the man has ulterior motives, or if you were planning to take things further yourself, you can’t tell. He leaves the question open on purpose. ‘I don’t want to be here, Tom,’ you say. ‘Please come get me.’

‘Alright.’

You hadn’t expected him to agree so quickly.

‘I’ll be there soon,’ he continues, his voice steady, calm. ‘If you feel scared, wait in the bathroom. I’ll find you.’

You nod, promising it to yourself. ‘Okay.’

He clears his throat on the other end, the sound acting as static on the line. ‘Now,’ he says, ‘smile. Make him think Ada wished you well.’

‘Okay, I will,’ you answer, louder than before. You smile and the action carries into your voice. ‘Thank-you, I’ll see you later.’

When you hang up, you turn to find your date has left the table and is now a few steps away from you. From the smug-laced smile he’s wearing, your final act was a convincing one. The line had landed as instructed.

‘You’re in the clear then?’ he asks, with his hand falling all too easily onto your side.

‘Yes.’ You force another smile. ‘She said I should take as long as I like.’

‘Well, aren’t you lucky.’

You step away from his hold, putting your hand to his wrist for a moment to soften the blow, to make him think you’re still sweet. ‘I’d like dessert, shall we go back?’

His head shakes once. ‘I’ve already paid the bill.’

‘Oh,’ you swallow the bile in your throat, ‘you have?’

He’s back close again; his hand wants your hip but you twist and force him to settle for your waist instead. ‘Why don’t we have dessert somewhere else?’ he says. ‘Somewhere quieter.’

‘I like it here.’ You won’t leave with him. You’d thought it after the starter, but now you knew it for sure. He’d have to drag you out the restaurant, kicking and screaming, if he wanted you to join him. ‘Can’t we at least look at the menu?’

He laughs in response. It’s a sour noise, one that makes your whole body tense.

‘I know you aren’t thick, but you’re acting like you are.’ He lifts his hand, pushes the shawl from your shoulder to leave your collarbone bare. His gaze falls onto the exposed skin. ’We’ll have something sweet,’ he says. ‘Promise.’

‘At your place,’ you finish, as blankly as you can. It isn’t a question so you don’t pose it as one. Everything in his voice, his posture, the way he’s trying to claim you, tells you that it’s already decided. You’d be going where he wanted you to go, regardless of your feelings toward it.

‘I suppose I should be flattered?’ you ask, faking another smile and ignoring the itch to cover your shoulder again. ‘You must like me a lot.’

‘That’s right.’ He’s said it sincerely but you’d put money on it being false; he’ll take any girl he can home. From the way he’s been watching you all night, you know that liking them isn’t a factor, liking their body is. His routine has worked a thousand times over, you’re sure.

‘Okay, but I need to visit the bathroom first,’ you lie. ‘To freshen up. You can wait outside, if you like.’

‘I’ll wait here,’ he replies, too quickly to be pleasant.

Your smile tightens into a straight line, or a grimace — you turn before he can decide which it is.

Without looking back, you walk towards the bathroom. If he’s watching you go, you don’t want to see it, you’d rather pretend he’s lounging against the wall and thinking about things that’ll never happen. It’s better that he feels like he’s won, that you’ll be out and in his hold again without complaint. It’ll only make things difficult if he suspects the opposite.

Once you’re in the toilets, your shoulders relax. The tension clatters off them and onto the tiles. You pick the cubicle furthest from the door and lock yourself into it; the more layers between you and him, the better. All you can do now is wait, and hope that Tommy finds you like he said he would. It shouldn’t be too hard, if he doesn’t see you in the restaurant, he’ll know to look in here. Your date won’t think anything of it, he doesn’t know Tommy. Or that you know Tommy. It’ll just look like some man, any man, has come looking for his wife. Or his girlfriend. There’s no reason to be nervous about it. For once, Tommy will slip by, unseen, and then the two of you…

You put the toilet seat down and sit on the lid. That part you can’t think about.

The idea of walking back out again, with Tommy in tow, is enough to kick your heart-rate up. He could get in unseen, but getting past your date unnoticed will be impossible. And, knowing Tommy, it wouldn’t be without conflict either. He’s used to that but you aren’t. Aggravating your date could lead to any number of things, scenarios that you’re already beginning to concoct, of course. Even with the tinge of wine in your system, your mind proves to be the biggest enemy. The possibilities it’s coming up with are starting to worry you more than the man waiting outside.

But, you won’t think about that. You won’t. You’ll just sit and wait for Tommy, and what happens after can be dealt with when it has to be dealt with.

Sighing, you sink your face into your hands. The door to the bathroom swings open, but from the giggles, and the chittering of heels on porcelain, you know it’s no-one for you. The girls fill the room comfortably. One takes the cubicle next to yours, the other waits by the sinks. You watch her ankles under the door.

‘I think I’m drunk,’ says the woman to your right.  

Her friend laughs. ‘It’s cause you’re sitting down. It’s always worse on your own.’

You want them to stay. You want them to crack open your door and sit, and talk, and make you forget about men with questionable intentions. If you were anyone but yourself, you’d ask them to. Instead, they talk, and you listen.

‘Come on, Daisy, they’ll get bored without us.’

They leave after that. The door echoes when it closes.

You haven’t got a watch but from the ache of your thighs, punctured by your leaning elbows, you know it’s been long enough to seem strange. If he hadn’t already, your date would soon wonder what you were doing. You watch the lock on your door like it’s going to betray you.

After a long stretch of quiet, you hear footsteps in the corridor. They’re too blunt to be heels so you stand quickly, wishing, wishing and then hoping and then the door opens.

‘[Y/n]?’

You don’t need to hear it again to know who it is. ‘I’m here,’ you say quickly, like he’d leave if you take too long. ‘I’m here, Tommy.’ The lock rattles beneath your fingers, before slipping back to release you.

He’s across the room in two strides, his hands taking your forearms like you might fall. ‘You alright?’

His lips part as he waits for an answer, his breath quiet but faster than resting. He’s been worrying, you realise, like you had. Imagining things that might have happened.

‘I’m fine,’ you say.

He lowers his head to keep your gaze. ‘You sure?’

You nod, the gesture small but enough to reassure him.

‘Good.’ He lets your arms go. The motion causes your shawl to slip, but he catches it before it can fall, and pulls it back onto your shoulders. ‘Can you wait here a bit longer?’ he asks.

Your face folds into a frown. ‘Why?’

Tommy sets his jaw. He doesn’t answer, you get there before he can.

‘No,’ you say, in a voice close to disgust, ‘no, don’t go cut him.’

He sighs, and for a second you remember that he’s annoyed at you. Or that he should be. It flashes onto his features, sneaking between one expression and the next, like he’d forgotten to stop it. ‘Did I say anything about cutting?’

As if every cut he’s made has come with a warning. As if it has to be said, to know that it’ll fall.

‘Tommy, I’m serious,’ you start, ‘I don’t want you—‘

‘You think I would?’ Now his voice is the one teetering on disgust. ‘In a restaurant?’

‘I don’t want you talking to him,’ you finish. ‘Please, I just want to leave.’

You watch a breath fall from his chest, and then another. It’s new to him, to enter a situation and then leave it again, without changing a thing. You can see in his eyes that he doesn’t know how. He wants to help, take control. He wants to fix it for you but some problems just aren’t his to solve.

‘Please,’ you say again. ‘I don’t want anything to happen.’

‘You won’t have to see it.’

‘Tommy.’

He nods. It costs him to agree to it. ‘Alright. I won’t.’

The relief covers you, drips from your head to your shoulders, along your arms to your fingertips. He listened, for once he listened. You’d thank him but he’d take it as an insult.

‘You shouldn’t have lied,’ he says. It drones out of him, turns from his lips like an ache. ‘Someone should know where you are.’

‘Ada knew,’ you offer.

‘Yeah. Ada knew,’ he scoffs, ‘Ada knew and she wouldn’t tell me cause she does what she does, and trusts you before her own brother.’

You sigh and close your eyes just long enough to take a breath. ‘I asked her not to, Tommy.’

His hand flies upwards, gesturing to you as he shakes his head. ‘And look where that got you.’

‘Can we save this for later?’ You don’t have it in you to fight him. ‘I made a bad call, alright? I just wanted  something nice. ’

Your tone catches him, pierces his frustration. Pulls him back to you like water to the moon. ‘You’re sure he didn’t touch you?’ he asks. ‘You’d tell me, ey? If he did.’

He’s serious enough that you resist the urge to roll your eyes. You just nod, and wait for him to relax again. Once he has, your eyes flick to the door, your urgency to leave returning as quickly as it had earlier.

‘Is he still outside?’ you ask, ignoring the small spike in your heartbeat.

Tommy shrugs. ‘There’s no-one outside.’

‘Blonde, tall,’ you list, ‘he’s by the phone.’

Something shifts in the look he’s giving you, recognition maybe. His chin juts down once. If Tommy’s seen him, he doesn’t say. If he’s still out there, you don’t know. It might be the only time you’ve appreciated Tommy’s aversion for words; you thought you’d wanted him to tell you where he was, but you realise now that silence is better. If he isn’t spoken into the room, he doesn’t exist. Tommy knows that. All he does, is ask, ‘Have you got a coat?’

You shake your head quickly. 'Leave it, I don’t care.’ The coat is old and menial enough to be sacrificed. It’d be stupid to risk a trip through the tables for that. ‘I’ve got what matters.’

He nods, reaching for you. ‘Come on.’ He guides you to walk in front of him, his hand gracing the lowest point of your back. ‘You first, I’m right behind. We’ll go out the back, alright?’

Somehow his calm starts to itch at you. You weren’t nervous until he started talking so simply, so ordered. It didn’t feel dangerous until he set a plan in motion. He’s doing it to reassure you, you know that, but the effort is setting you on edge.

You push open the door, meeting the restaurant noise with reluctance. Tommy extends an arm to hold it open and, conveniently, prevents you from looking left, down the corridor to the bar and the phone and—

‘That way, it’s just ahead,’ he explains. ‘S’alright.’

‘I’m okay, Tommy,’ you say. It isn’t loud, you don’t even convince yourself, but he hears and pretends to believe it all the same.

‘I know,’ he answers. ‘Watch your step here.’

It’s easier to let him walk you through it. To let him help you, even if it makes you worry. You hope that it stills the need, keeps that voice in his head quiet, the one that tells him to take control of things. The one that wants to end the date on your behalf.

You feel his fingers pull away from your back. It’s slow, like he hasn’t realised it’s happening, but enough of a loss to make you hesitate. When you turn to search for him, he’s already in the process of turning back to you.

‘I’m here,’ he says, before you can ask. ‘Just checking, that’s all.’

Over his shoulder you think you see the familiar curve of a flat-cap. The peaked-tell of his foot soldiers.

‘Don’t,’ his voice is hush, his face softened in a plea. ‘You don’t want the answer.’

‘But you said—’

He sighs, putting his hand to your back again, though this time his palm’s flat against your spine. ‘Let’s just go, ey? They’re bringing the car round for us.’

You nod. You don’t know why, but you do. If he’s done what you think he has, then he lied to you, he stood and told you he wouldn’t get involved, knowing he was going to anyway. It wasn’t him, but the order was. That should bother you. Instead, when he pushes you toward the exit, you let him. And when he says, ‘We both lied, [y/n],’ you sigh, and tell him, ‘I know. Take me home, Tom.’

The car’s waiting outside, like he said it would be. His hand doesn’t come away from you until you’re in the passenger seat with your bag on your lap.

‘Tommy,’ you say, catching him before he can shut the door. He looks at you, face tilted up slightly. It’s dark; you search for his expression in-between the shadows. ‘Would you always come?’ you ask. ‘If I needed you?’

He holds your gaze for a moment, and then nods — but it’s so slight you might’ve imagined it. His hand slips from the edge of the door to squeeze your knee. You wait for him to say something, but he doesn’t, he just pulls away again and shuts you in.

Perhaps he can’t promise it. Perhaps he’s spent enough time reassuring you, and making sure you’re alright, that he’s hit his limit. If he can’t lie to you twice, he won’t say anything at all.

[readyplayerhobi]

Flower | 33

; Hoseok x Reader

; Genre: Fluff, angst

; Word Count: 6.1k

; Warnings: Discussion of car accident, brief sexual content mention, depiction of a PTSD/panic attack

; 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: This is a bit earlier than usual but I want to get it out while it was done and I was feeling okay about it...work and job rejections have been hitting ol’ self-confidence hard so writing is a bit tougher than normal. I’ve gone through this for grammar but I haven’t properly proof read. I hope you all enjoy this though and please send me comments and feedback so I know what you think! I love to read them and it helps to boost me :)

; Flower Masterpost

-

Straightening up, you winced before rubbing at the small of your back before stretching. It was summer, which meant the sun was shining strongly. As much as you like the sun, you weren’t so much of a fan when you knelt in the grass for hours on end. The sunhat on your head helped a little, as did the sunglasses but your skin was shiny with the veneer of sweat.

You were hot, and with a deep sigh, you wiped across your forehead with your arm. The thick gardening gloves on your hands were covered in dirt and compost, keeping your hands clean but also making them incredibly warm. As much as you enjoyed gardening, it felt like a chore in the heat of a summer’s day.

But at least you had some company for your misery today. Your mom was knelt next to you, leaning forward and diligently weeding her beloved flowers. Hoseok and you had come over for the day, intending to feast yourselves on your dad’s famous pot roast before heading home with a bag full of leftovers that would be eaten at work.

Watching your mom closely for a moment, you felt a surge of warmth and love for her. You never really noticed how much older she looked now; the lines on her face that were deepening and the greys in her hair that were multiplying more than you liked. It was easy to miss the passage of time on your parents when you weren’t paying attention too closely, but now that you stopped and looked at her closely you could see it.

You hoped she was happy with how her life had turned out. Even if it wasn’t the best, that’s all you wanted for your parents. To be happy and proud of you.

“So, what’s your plan for your yard? Are you going to get that porch built that you wanted? I wouldn’t bother trying to do any of your gardens and flowers at the moment. Unless you’re planning on planting flowers that will bloom in autumn and winter. Though there are some pretty ones. I’ll have a look online for you and find the best ones if you want? Maybe we can get your garden looking all nice together, a little mother-daughter bonding time.” Smiling at her, you nod your head slowly.

“Sounds good. Though we haven’t bought it yet. Officially. I mean, they’ve accepted our offer but now it’s all that legal stuff, you know? So I don’t feel too comfortable changing anything just yet, just in case anything goes wrong.” There’s a slight hesitance to your tone. So small that you don’t even realise it’s there, but your mom recognises it.

Sitting up, she stretches as well before shifting until she’s sitting cross-legged and facing you. There’s a wince on her face from overused joints that are ageing but she doesn’t complain, instead just looking at you intently.

“What’s wrong? I can tell there’s something. Is there something wrong with the house or anything like that?” It’s amazing how easily she picks up on things like but she did raise you. Cleaned you up when you were younger and you fell over, taught you everything you know and helped to make sure you grew to be the best version of yourself.

“No. No, there’s nothing wrong with the house. Or with Hoseok, before you ask. It’s just...I feel a little stressed. Or worried rather worried that’s better. More accurate. It’s just...a house, you know? It’s a big purchase, really expensive and it’s permanent. If anything happens with Hoseok and me then we have to go through the whole process of selling it and splitting the proceeds. And then we have to move out and I wouldn’t have a home anymore and-” The gentle pressure of your mom’s hand on your arm causes you to pause.

She has a gentle smile on her face and an understanding expression which soothes whatever frayed nerves you have. This is probably one of the few times you wouldn’t feel comfortable talking about this issue with Hoseok, being too worried he might take offence or something. But your mom understood.

“Sometimes...I think you get way too caught up in your thoughts. I want you to consider something, okay? Yes, it might all fall apart and it might not work out. But what if it does work out? What if everything is perfect and you get a nice house? And then Hoseok proposes and you get married. Then in fifty years, you can be telling your grandchildren all about meeting their grandad and falling in love in your lovely home.” Snorting slightly, you can’t help but roll your eyes slightly as your lips quirk.

“We’re not having kids, remember?” She makes an expression indicating she’s remembering what you’d told her. Your parents hadn’t been surprised to find out Hoseok didn’t want kids either. If anything, they’d been pleased because they knew how much you wanted to remain childfree.

“Yes, yes, but you know what I mean. Sometimes you just have to go with it. Enjoy your life in the moment sweetheart, you’ve spent far too long focusing on the negative aspects of life in my opinion. Just...take the time to enjoy the fact that you’re able to buy a house with the man you love and who loves you back. I can’t predict the future or anything but...I think you’re both going to be happy. So just focus on that, okay? You’ve got a nice little house to work on together, two cars, a cute cat, a good job and a great relationship. Focus on the positives.” Letting go of your arm, she took your hand before squeezing in reassurance.

Taking a deep breath, you let it out slowly before shifting and reaching out to carry on gardening. You know that your mom is right, but it’s still a worry that buzzes in your stomach continuously. That something will go wrong and you’ll have no home along with no Hoseok.

The very thought of not having Hoseok in your life anymore makes your breath stutter, lungs freezing until you’re pressing a hand against your chest to try and coax them back to life. One of the reasons you’d been so nervous about getting into a serious relationship had been because you were terrified of falling in love only to have it all stolen from you.

It still scared you, the idea that one day you might wake up alone and that you’d never see or talk to him again. But that was just because you loved him so much that the very idea of not being with him anymore hurt. You wondered if Hoseok felt the same, deep emotions that you did.

“I know...I know. I can’t help it, you know? I’m trying, I promise. Hoseok’s finally convinced me to give therapy a try. The antidepressants are working well but I still have moments, you know? I don’t feel entirely settled and this whole house thing is getting me a little stressed. Not because of the house itself but...just everything it symbolises. So I’ve got an appointment for one next month, the earliest I could get.” Shrugging, you smile at her before digging back into the soil to make a hole for the flowers your mom had bought.

“Good, I’m glad. I hope it works. My advice to you is to just take everything a day at a time, okay? It’ll all work out for you.” There’s a quiet reassurance in her words and you can’t help but relax, knowing that for now at least you can just enjoy yourself without any negative thoughts.

A loud groan leaves her as she stretches once more, a loud crack emanating from her back as her bones move and you wince slightly. Reaching over, you rub at her back soothingly and laugh as she lets out a deep sigh before thanking you.

“Okay, finish that flower off and then we’ll head inside. My back is killing me and I just want to sit down for a bit.” Nodding at her, you let her go before finishing off the flowerbed and packing up all the gardening stuff into the small shed your dad had built last year. 

Hands grasping at your waist cause you to shriek in surprise, spinning around and getting ready to push at the intruder. The sight of your boyfriend, his expression full of mischief, causes you to relax to the point your eyes are rolling.

“Hoseok! God, I thought you were some rando.” Hissing, you push lightly at his stomach and pout. A tiny bit of an over-reaction but if you couldn’t be dramatic with Hoseok then who could you be? He knew you weren’t truly bothered by his playfulness, especially when you leaned into his body a little.

“Bit weird for a rando to be in your parent’s backyard,” His arms slide around you, hugging you tightly and practically moulding your back to his front. “But no, it’s just your loveable weirdo.”

Snorting, you continue to carefully put away everything into their specified areas. Your mom liked things to look neat and tidy at all times now, which meant you were having to find where everything belonged. Otherwise, you’d get a phone call that would result in you being berated for leaving the shed messy.

“Is the door finished then?” Hoseok had volunteered to help your dad repaint the front door and start varnishing the porch steps. That had been around three hours ago, so you could only assume that not only were they finished but that he was probably famished. You’d discovered he seemed to have that stereotypical guy’s stomach in that it was a black hole which would eat anything and everything.

Burrowing his face into your neck, he hums in acknowledgement. Closing the drawer, you twist around until you can slip your arms around him in turn. Unlike the normal smell you’d come to adore, today he smelled of the overwhelmingly strong chemicals in the polish he’d used. It didn’t smell great and you wrinkled your nose, unhappy at the fact it wasn’t what you were used to but unwilling to move away from him.

“Thank you, for helping him. He’s been wanting that porch done for years now but his knees are so bad.” None of that is new information to Hoseok and you suspected that was why he’d volunteered to do it. To the point that he’d even headed out with your dad to the local DIY store to grab everything that they would need.

The look of happiness on your dad’s face when he’d realised that he was finally going to get one of his jobs finished had made you almost want to cry with emotion. You hadn’t though, but you were giving Hoseok a tight hug to convey your gratitude to him for being a good person. The quick kiss was just an afterthought, but he’d earned that too.

Wandering hands tell you that he’s more frisky than you’d thought he would be after the work he’d been doing, and it’s only when he squeezes a good handful of your ass that you pull away with laughter. While you still weren’t a big fan of your ass, it was still a little too big for your insecurities, Hoseok was very much a fan.

What some people call ‘an ass man’.

“Hoseok, come on. We have to go in and I am not doing anything with you in my parent’s shed. Plus, you got a blowjob this morning! I need to go help sort the vegetables out for dinner an-” Warm lips pressed against your own interrupt you, their softness making you give in almost instantly as you just enjoyed him.

Little butterflies were fluttering in your stomach as he just lazily kissed you, no urgency to his movements despite what you’d just said. Still, you didn’t push him away. He still remembered, even after over two years, that you enjoyed just kissing. Catching up on all the times you’d missed out on as a teenager and the intermittent years.

So you were loath to pull away from him; especially when he was doing what you imagined a loved-up teenage couple would do when out of sight of their parents. It was fun. Plus, Hoseok was a great kisser.

Finally, though, he stops and leans back to grin at you. It’s a testament to how much you are attracted to and love him with how strong the urge to drop to your knees for him right then and there. Maybe he could have two blowjobs in one day.

“Okay, we can go in now. Do you need help with the vegetables?” The way he changes the mood so quickly has you almost experiencing whiplash, eyes widening as you watch him turn around and walk out. Bringing a hand palm up, you squint at his back and mouth out ‘what the fuck?’ before following him.

By the time you manage to catch up to him, giving him a slightly sullen look even if you’d been the one to deny anything was going to happen, he’s already entering the house. The air is rich with the scent of slow-cooking pot roast and you sigh in contentment, heading into the kitchen.

“You can help if you want. Hey mom, it’s okay. We’ll do that for you.” Gently, you push her away from the counter and take the peeler from her hand. She looks between you both with a quizzical look, her lips quirked up into a half-smile when Hoseok just starts to wash his hands with no complaints before taking control of the carrots.

Thankfully, she doesn’t say anything except for thanks as she leaves you both to it. You get the strong feeling that she’s bemused he’s helping you without complaint or further prodding. As much as your dad likes to cook on occasion, he usually takes a little bit of convincing to get him to help out.

“Oh hey, there’s stuff to make my mom’s roast potatoes...do you want me to make them?” You don’t see the curious expression on your mom’s face as she tilts her head, watching as Hoseok lifts a bottle of soy sauce and the grinder full of black pepper. Instead, you’re too busy making an excited face at him as you nod eagerly.

“Oh my god, yes! My parents have never had them before. I think it’ll go well too as my dad always likes to put everything in the cupboard in his pot roast…”

-

“You know...you weren’t kidding when you said that there was a high chance that I could end up getting the shits from your dad’s pot roast. That was a spicy ass meal. God, it tasted so damn good though. I’m glad he made so much for us to take back.” Hoseok was sat, or rather slouched, in the passenger seat of your car.

A hand was resting on his stomach, which looked to be holding a significant food baby. Snorting with laughter, you nodded in agreement before grinning as he let his head loll on the backseat. You’d been telling him about your dad’s infamous pot roast for a long time now and he’d finally gotten to experience it. 

On top of that, your parents had been wowed by the roast potatoes Hoseok had made using his mom’s recipe. To the point that your mom had begged him to tell her how to make them, at which he’d made a big show about having to ask his mom for permission.

Somehow, that had all led to her calling his mom to formally ask for it. Even though Hoseok had been joking about it and fully intended to let her know how to make it. An hour after that, when you’d finally left after bidding your dad goodnight and with a bag full of leftover roast in Tupperware, your mom’s were still chattering away to each other.

You didn’t have too much experience with how parents were supposed to interact with each other but you were pretty sure becoming close friends wasn’t too normal. But again, you didn’t have any relevant experience here so maybe it was.

“Have you ever seen Step Brothers?” The question comes out of nowhere but Hoseok’s used to it by now. He doesn’t even look over at you in confusion or amusement, just answers you like you’d asked him what his favourite colour is.

“Yeah, why?”

“I think our moms just did that whole ‘did we become best friends?!’ thing.” Now he’s the one letting out a snort, his smile big enough that you can spot it out of the corner of your eye. He knows exactly what you mean, nodding even though you can’t see him properly.

“I think they did. You know, I’m not sure if this is a good or a bad thing. We’ll never be left alone now, you know that right?” Shrugging, you flex your fingers on the steering wheel and enjoy the texture of the leather beneath your hands. You were already approaching home, the roads quiet in the warm evening sun as everyone probably spent time in their yards.

“I like your mom. And I like my mom...sooo, I don’t see any problem with that.” Given you’re focusing on the road, you don’t notice the droll stare he gives you. Which is probably a good thing, because you’d just poke him if you had seen it.

“Are you kidding? Okay, maybe it’s just me that won’t be left alone then. I’ll never be able to do anything wrong. Whether it’s trivial or something serious.” There’s a serious whine to his voice and a glance over shows you that he’s pouting almost comically, causing you to giggle at his protruding lower lip. He may be a little dirty and sweaty from his day’s work, covered in tattoos and piercings but he just looked adorable.

“Well...I guess you’ll have to be on your best behaviour then, won’t you?”

“Very funny. I tell you, I’m going to hear about everything tiny thi-” He’s cut off by your loud cursing, the words coarse and filled with vitriol as you glare at the asshole who almost hit you. Slamming on the brake, you jerk forward hard as the car stops far quicker than you expected and the seat belt feels almost like it’s choking.

“Fucking hell, these brakes are sharper than I expected.” You exclaim, resting your hands in the perfect driving position on the wheel while letting out a deep breath to calm yourself. Glaring down the road, you note that the other car isn’t even there anymore and you can’t help yourself from flipping the bird in the air.

You were at the last intersection before your street, the opening just ahead of the traffic lights that had been green for you. Which meant that they had been red for whoever that ass was. It hadn’t stopped them from speeding as they ran their red, coming within inches of hitting your side of the car if you hadn’t braked so suddenly.

Shuddering, you crack your neck and wince as you rub at it, hoping you hadn’t caused yourself whiplash. Setting off again, you scowl before realising you were hearing a weird noise. Frowning deeply, you look over the display to see if any warning lights have come on before realising it’s coming from your side.

It takes one look to realise Hoseok is very much not okay. 

He’s paler than you’ve ever seen and that immediately startles you, but what’s even more worrying is the way he’s got a death grip on the door handle and his seat cushion. You have to look away from him sooner than you would have liked given you were still driving, turning into the street with the house in sight now but you could hear him.

And you weren’t sure that you’d ever heard something so...haunting.

It was like he couldn’t breathe properly; his chest constricted or something while pained noises were being dragged out of his throat. You don’t even realise that you’ve sped up, subconsciously trying to get home and park so that you can help your boyfriend with whatever’s going on.

He’s still making those horrible sounds and breathing like he’s run a marathon when you pull into the drive, putting the parking brake on and turning the engine off before turning to him. Reaching out a hand slowly, it’s only when you can feel his bicep that you realise he’s trembling. No, not trembling. He’s shaking almost violently despite his death grip on the car.

“Hobi...Hoseok. Baby, what’s wrong? What’s wrong?” You didn’t know what to do, and you didn’t understand what was happening. Why was he acting like this? Like he’d just seen a ghost or something.

And then it clicks in your head. The intersection, the idiot who almost hit you, the way you’d slammed on the brakes and cursed a storm. For you, it had just been an annoyance and a near miss. But Hoseok had been in a situation like that when he was a child, and it hadn’t been a near miss.

“Oh, shit. Shit. Fuck,” Muttering, you look around the car as you wonder how to break him out of whatever attack he’s suffering. “It’s okay, Hoseok. It’s okay, I’m here. You’re safe, you’re okay. I promise.” 

As you try to find something to jar him out of his memories, you talk to him constantly. It’s utter nonsense what you’re saying but you want to make sure he can hear someone he loves, reassures him that he’s not alone. Glancing over to him, you swallow thickly at how panicked and frightened he looks.

Pulling out the tube of hard peppermints that had been living in your bag for probably two years at this point, you thrust them into his nose. It’s probably a dumb thing to do but something you’d learnt since your panic attack had been that a good way to get people out of the looping fear was something unexpected.

The strong scent of the hard-pressed mints was probably hard to miss given you jammed it against his nose a little too hard. There was white powder left, which wouldn’t look too great if anyone happened to see him, but you didn’t care. It worked.

Yanking his head back suddenly, Hoseok took a deep breath that sounded more painful than you like before looking at you with wide eyes. Letting the mints drop to the floor, you shift until you can reach and cup his face in your hands.

He feels cold yet the apples of his cheeks are so hot, his breath still faster than you liked but there’s coherence in his gaze. The Hoseok you know and love is back, no longer trapped in the memory of an eight-year-old. Guilt overwhelms you as you realise that you’d probably caused this.

“Hobi…” Is all you manage to get out before you’re stopped once more. Only this time, it’s by the way his face crumples and his eyes glisten as tears bank in them. It makes your chest tighten painfully to see him hurting; especially given how he so clearly tries not to let himself fall over the edge.

It’s only when your thumbs gently stroke at the skin of his cheeks, soft yet ever so slightly prickly from his evening shadow that was beginning to make itself known, that he cracks. The tears slowly slide down his face, each one shining in the evening light while his lips wobble as he tries to keep them pressed together.

“Baby, it’s okay. You’re okay, we’re okay.” You’re pretty positive that you’ve never seen anything more heartbreaking than watching Hoseok slowly break down. The rock in your turbulent emotions and mind, eroding as the dark currents of his mind hit at his weak points.

He just stares at you for a moment before he’s grasping at the door handle, breathing heavily before almost throwing himself out of the car. For a moment, you just stared out of the open door, watching as Hoseok practically scrambles for the porch of your house. It takes a few seconds for your brain to finally catch up, propelling you out of the car to follow him.

Crouching down, you reach out slowly to see if he’d be okay with you touching him. He’s sat down, the faded white paint on the old porch looking chipped and dirty as he rests a hand on it. When he doesn’t push you away, you carefully sit down next to him and rub his back in slow, soothing movements.

You can feel the muscles there shaking, his limbs still trembling slightly from the traumatic memory he’d probably had. Not a word has passed from his lips, only heavy breathing that he’s slowly managing to regulate once more and worry fills you.

“Hoseok...it’s okay. You’re okay,” Shuffling a little closer, you move your hand up to stroke the short hair at the nape of his neck. “I’m okay, you’re okay. We’re home. Nothing bad happened. I’m sorry for triggering bad memories.”

Hoseok shakes his head suddenly, the movement fierce and firm. Eyes widening, you let out a small ‘eep’ as he wraps his arms around you and hugs you tightly. This gesture is much different from his earlier embrace in your parent’s shed. There’s a little more urgency to this, the way his hands run along you isn’t sensual but more like he’s reassuring himself that you’re real.

That you are okay.

“You’re not hurt, you’re okay. Right? No pain, n-no injuries? You’re okay?” His voice quivers, breaking halfway through his words and your heart contracts at the sight of the fear in his eyes. The tears are still falling down his face, almost like he doesn’t realise and you gently cup his cheeks once more, wiping away at them.

This time, he seems to recognise your touch fully and leans into it, pressing his forehead against yours as a choked sob sounds from his throat. Cooing to him, you rearrange him until his head is buried in the space between your neck and shoulder, his larger frame seeming so small as you wrap your arms around him protectively.

“Hey, hey. It’s okay, I swear. Nothing happened. That asshole ran the red light but I braked quick enough. I was just angry at him, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to...to do this. I’m so sorry.” Now it’s your turn for your voice to crack, emotions tumbling together at seeing him so afraid and upset.

“S’not you. It wasn’t you,” He mumbles against your hoodie, squeezing you a little tighter. “It was...it was just the sound and the feeling. The brakes screeching, the cursing, being thrown forward. It was...I was back there. Then, back then. It was just so similar. The intersection and it all just...I guess my mind just got lost in it. It was like I was reliving that moment in my head; both here and back then. I could hear you but I could hear my parents, my sister. I couldn’t figure out what was real.”

You didn’t have any experience with this, with any of it and you didn’t know what to do. From your limited experience of watching shows and movies, you guessed he’d had some kind of flashback to his childhood accident. The sounds and movements of the incident throwing him back decades into that traumatic moment. You felt stupid that you’d never even considered he could still have some form of PTSD it.

At least, you assumed that’s what it was. 

“You’re here. Here with me and we’re okay. I don’t...I gotta be honest baby, I don’t want to say. Or do. What do you need from me?” You hated having to ask that, putting the onus on him to figure out what you should be doing to help him. But you had no idea, you’d never dealt with this. You couldn’t even manage your panic attacks, nevermind one caused by a flashback.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. Don’t stress about it. You got me out of my head, that was good. Quick thinking,” Pulling away from you, he laces his fingers together before lowering his head till it’s between his knees and just breathes slowly. “Fuck, I’ve not had one of those in a long time.”

“You’ve had them before?”

There’s silence for a few minutes as he just breathes slowly, his eyes closed as he forces himself to relax. Twisting his lips, he rolls his head and the crack of his neck is loud in the quietness of the street. You don’t push him, letting him take his time to get to terms with what had just happened.

It was a good thing because you weren’t entirely sure what you were meant to do.

“Yeah. I used to get them when I was a kid. It took months for my parents to convince me to get in a car after it happened. Certain things would just...trigger a panic attack or a flashback like then. I can’t listen to the song that was on the radio at the time and...well as you’ve just seen, a sequence of events like that sets me off. A lot of my behaviour when I was younger, was a result of the PTSD from the accident. I thought I’d pretty much got past having these incidents as it’s been forever since I’ve had one.” Wiping at his face, he looks away from you and down towards the end of the road.

Wiggling over to him, you lean against him supportively before carefully taking his hand and linking your fingers. He lets you, his hand mostly limp except the slightest tremble of his fingers. Running the fingers of your free hand along the back of his, you rest your head on his shoulder.

“Don’t be angry or upset or anything, you can’t help it. I know very well that we can’t control what our brains do. It probably thinks it’s trying to protect you somehow but...you got through it pretty quickly. You’re okay and you’re here, talking to me rationally pretty quickly. Maybe you had this because you weren’t driving, right? So you weren’t able to do anything about it. When you’re driving, your mind is usually focused on something else.” Part of you recognises that you’re just rambling crap to him but you want to keep him listening. Make sure that he doesn’t fall back into his mind.

Turning to look at you, Hoseok gives you a weak smile and you feel pain in your chest at how tired and sad he looks suddenly. All signs of your happy and boisterous boyfriend have vanished for the moment. You’ve never felt more useless.

“Yeah, probably. You’re probably right. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin-” Cutting him off with a sharp gesture, you gently poke at his arm before smiling.

“Don’t apologise. Please don’t apologise for something you can’t control. You tell me this all the time, so now I get to tell you. It’s okay to not be okay, remember? All I care about is that you’re okay, that you’re not hurting or scared. That’s it. I don’t care that it happened, I only care about you.” His eyes look a little watery again at that, his smile weak yet a little happier than before.

“I know it’s early but...can we just go to bed? Just nap or something? I’m so tired. From working on the porch earlier and from this, I just want to cuddle you and sleep.” Tilting your head, you scan over him slowly and sigh softly.

Hoseok looks tired, his shoulders slumping and back slouching from the weight of everything. It’s the least you can do for him, especially if that’s all he wants. So you nod, smiling at him before squeezing his hand.

“Sure. You go head in, I’ll grab the stuff and put it away then come up.” Standing, you head over to the car to grab everything your parents had given you to bring home. The sound of Hoseok’s keys jangling together as he opens the door is familiar, as is the door closing to prevent Kasumi from getting out. A glance back tells you that he’s inside and you let your head drop, hands resting on the cushion of the backseat as you take a deep breath.

Taking the time to just inhale and exhale slowly, you tell yourself to relax as well. Just as you’d told him that he was okay and safe, you had to acknowledge the same for you now as well. Seeing Hoseok like that was scary and you would be happy if you never saw anything like that again. It hurt to see him afraid, to see him cry and struggle with himself. Was this what it was like for him when you were experiencing a bad mental health day?

Shaking your head, you blow the air out of your cheeks before looking up at the sky. The colours are starting to become more extravagant and vibrant, the blue deepening into purples, pinks and oranges as the sun sets. It’s still warm out but there’s a pleasant breeze that cools you, blowing gently through the grass and the branches of the trees that line the road.

It all looks so peaceful and calm, so unlike what you’d been experiencing not even ten minutes ago. Swallowing, you grabbed the bags and pulled them out, closing the door and locking the car before heading inside.

His shoes are alongside the others but there’s no sign of him downstairs. No noise coming from the bedroom either and you look up the stairs with a concerned expression. You didn’t know what to do, what was right to do. So all you could do was what he asked.

Quickly putting away the leftover food and baked goods your mom had given you, you head upstairs to the bedroom. The curtains are already closed, leaving the room darker than in the hallway and a glance at the clothes hamper lets you guess he’s probably gotten into some comfy pyjamas.

The shape underneath the covers doesn’t move, but you smile at seeing Kasumi laid alongside him with wide and unblinking eyes. Quickly pulling your clothes off, you get into a fresh pair of pyjamas as well before heading over to the bed, placing your phone on the bedside table.

“Hey, pretty girl. Are you looking after daddy?” Whispering, you slide into bed and stroke at her soft fur. Hoseok’s eyes shine slightly in the dim light, the covers pulled up to his chin in an almost protective way as he watches you shower love onto Kasumi.

Turning your attention to him, you take him in for a moment with a soft smile. Gravity makes his cheeks softer and rounder while lying down, his lips pouting a little more than normal while his hair half flops onto the pillow. He looks adorable, yet there’s still that vulnerability in his eyes.

“Do you want to be the little spoon?” You ask, grinning when he nods quietly. It takes no time for you to shuffle forward, meeting him in the middle of the bed and wrapping your arms around him. He nuzzles his head into the space below your chin, his arms trapped between both your bodies while you throw your leg over him as well.

Grinning to yourself despite the serious situation earlier, you can’t help but find some peace and happiness at this moment. To know that he loved you enough to feel safe in your embrace like this, to feel protected and not silly. You were smaller than him, yet you knew that you would keep him as safe as you possibly could.

Reaching up, you alternate between running the strands of his hair through your fingers and massaging his scalp in the way he likes. A quiet rumble of appreciation leaves him at the feeling, his body relaxing in your arms. It would never fail to amuse you how easily you could get him to sleep just by playing with his hair. And you wanted him to sleep right now, to have good and pleasant dreams to rid himself of the anxiety and panic from earlier.

Pressing your lips to his head, you sigh quietly and tell him something that you rarely vocalise. Normally it’s hard to get the words out, but today they flow easily and you can practically feel the way he relaxes even further. 

“I love you.”

[midnightsnyx]

Consequences - Matthew Tkachuk: part 7

summary: you absolutely hate Matthew Tkachuk so it’s just your luck when you wind up pregnant with his child.

a/n: we’re near the end! i hope you guys enjoy this part and thank you for reading <3

word count: 2.1k

warnings: none but FLUFF

Part 7

32 weeks

Ignoring tradition, you and Matt decided to have a single baby shower with everyone invited instead of a separate shower and a pamper party. It was more convenient for everyone and one party was less clean up, so bonus. What you weren’t expecting was for so many people to show up. You knew Matt had a big family but you didn’t think so many of them were invited. But, you did give Chantal and Taryn free reign to plan it so really, you shouldn’t be that surprised.

Most of his family was great and you get along with them wonderfully, especially some of his cousins who are around your age. But then there are the older women who are supposed to be mature, yet are giving you dirty looks and whispering things to each other.

It makes you self conscious because you know exactly the kind of things they are thinking and saying. It’s the exact same thing you’ve seen from some of Matt’s “fans”. Comments about how you got pregnant on purpose, and how it’s a shame now that Matt is stuck with you. You knew the comments were just people who were trying to get under your skin but knowing that some of his family and friends might be thinking the same was hurtful.  

You do your best to ignore it though and focus on the people who are actually nice to you, answering all the questions they have about potential baby names, what brands you’re using for the baby, and other purposeless things. But the feeling is always in the back of your mind so at one point, you slip into Matt’s bedroom so you can just breathe for a moment.

This, of course, just gives you more time to worry about what people are thinking about you and how they’re judging you and before you know it, you feel like you might cry.

Stupid hormones.

A knock on the door breaks you from your thoughts and you look up to see Matt standing there.

“Hey,” he says quietly, shutting the door behind him and walking over to sit next to you. “you disappeared.”

“Just needed a minute.” You tell him, hoping he doesn’t notice the way your voice cracks but the looks he gives you says you should know better by now.

“What’s going on inside your head?”

You shrug, not knowing how to explain without insulting his family. You don’t want him to think that you don’t like them, but you know he won’t leave you alone until you tell him why you’re upset.

So you try an approach you think he might understand.

“Do you ever feel like you’re being judged?” You ask quietly.

“All the time.” He answers easily. “Comes with the job description.”

“So you understand how it feels.” You say and he raises an eyebrow at you.

“Is that what this is about?” He nudges you. “You can’t possibly think they’re judging you, Y/N.”

“But they are! I see the looks some of your family and friends give me. It’s like they think I got knocked up on purpose.”

He shakes his head. “Who cares what they think?”

“You should care about what they think.” You say slowly, raising an eyebrow at his dismissal. “They’re your family.”

He shrugs. “You’re my family too.”

He says it so casually, so effortlessly and it’s like something just clicks in your brain and suddenly you have this overwhelming want, no need, to kiss him.

And that’s exactly what you do.

He doesn’t move at first when you press your lips to his, almost like he’s unsure about what to do and for a moment, you’re worried that you’ve ruined everything but then his hand comes up and cups your cheek and he kisses you back. You feel like you might melt straight through the bed and floor when he smiles against your lips and it’s absolutely perfect until Brady barges in the room.

“Where’d you guys- oh.” Brady freezes, eyes widening before he smirks. “Oh. I see what’s happening here. I’ll give you two a minute.”

“Brady.” Matt whines, dropping his head on your shoulder. “You’re ruining the moment.”

“Sorry! People were asking where you went!” He starts backing up and winks. “I’ll come up with a cover story. Have fun kids.”

“Brady.”

“Leaving! I’m going now!” He says, darting out the door and shutting it behind him.

Matt lifts his head, resting his chin on your shoulder instead of moving away. His eyes study your face as if he’s searching for any sign of regret but you smile to ease his worries.

“That was nice.”  

He raises an eyebrow. “Just nice? I think I can do better than that.”

“Okay, it was better than nice.” You giggle, feeling giddy. It’s a bit of a foreign feeling.

“Kind of overdue, huh?”

You raise an eyebrow. “You been wanting to kiss me, Tkachuk?”

“Oh, just since we met. Y’know, not that long.”

“Matthew.”

“What? I’m serious.” He says and then sighs. “I know I kind of fucked up when we first met. I was a bit of an ass-”

“A bit?” You tease and he gives you a dry look but you know he’s not actually mad.

“Hey, I’m trying.”

“Sorry.” You say solemnly. “Go on.”

He presses his lips together to hold back a smile. “You were funny and witty and kind from what Johnny had told me so I asked him to introduce me. Probably wasn’t the best idea to do it when I was drunk but he’s always had bad timing.” He shrugs. “He’d mentioned that you were fresh out of a tough relationship and I just… I don’t know, I just said the first thing that came to my mind and drunk me thought it was funny. Which obviously, it wasn’t.”

“I know we’ve already kissed-” he points to your stomach. “clearly, but I’d like to think of this as our first kiss.”

You grimace. “That works for me because honestly, I don’t remember much of that night.”

“I must have been doing something wrong, then.” He jokes.

“Guess you’ll have to show me again.”

He grins. “Deal. But first, I’m taking you on a date.

. . .

“I knew he’d come around.” Taryn grins, finishing the last of your makeup. When she heard that Matt was taking you on a date, she begged you to let her help you get ready. You were going to ask her anyway because you wanted to spend as much time with her and Chantal as you could before they went home. It was unlikely you would be able to see them again until after the baby is born and that thought freaks you out because you’re nearly 33 weeks and your doctor told you that you can deliver as early as 37 weeks.

So you only have about a month left to prepare yourself for childbirth. Luckily, Chantal has been so helpful, answering any questions you have and you feel so blessed that you have her to help you through this.

“I knew it was coming too.” Chantal says from her spot on the bed. You’re half certain you saw tears in her eyes when you told her that Matt had asked you on a date but you cried too so you can’t make fun.

“You guys have been hoping for this, haven’t you?”

Chantal shrugs and hides a smile. “Maybe.”

Taryn nods. “The way you two look at each other totally gives away your feelings. It’s weird seeing Matt like that.”

“Like what?”

“Nice. Honestly, a little unsettling.”

“Taryn.” Chantal scolds and the youngest Tkachuk raises her hands.

“I’m joking.” She mutters. “Kind of.”

Chantal just sighs but smiles when she looks at you.

“You look beautiful, sweetheart.”

Your face turns pink from her compliment but it does mean a lot knowing that Matt’s mom approves of you despite the unusual circumstances. You know that some parents might have had reservations about the situation you and Matt are in but Chantal and Keith treated you with nothing but respect and kindness since the start of this and you will forever be grateful.

“Well, you’re all done.” Taryn says, stepping back to admire her work. “You’re going to knock his socks off.”

“Even being 8 months pregnant?” You ask hesitantly.

“Especially being 8 months pregnant.” Chantal assures you.

Her assurance makes you feel a little better but when there is a knock on the door, you’re suddenly extremely nervous.

“Come in!” Taryn yells and Matt pokes his head in with a grin on his face. When he looks at you, his eyes go wide and mouth drops a little.

He stutters over his words which makes you feel better.

“Cat got your tongue, Tkachuk?” You ask, trying to hide the pleased look on your face.

He shakes his head and grins, walking over and taking your hands in his. “Just admiring how beautiful my girl is.”

“Your girl? Awfully presumptuous.” You joke but your heart warms at his words. You can hear Chantal literally awe.

Matt just grins and leads you out of the apartment and to his car. He even opens the door for you and you raise an eyebrow but don’t comment.

“Do I get to know where we’re going?” You ask when he slides in the drivers seat.

“Nope.” He says, sending you a sly grin.

You know it’s pointless arguing with him so you just smile back and rest your head on the seat, watching out the window until you reach your destination.

. . .

Matt knows you better than you thought because instead of bringing you to a fancy, high end restaurant, he brings you to a small but cute diner the two of you frequently go to. He knows it’s your favourite and it make you happy knowing that he notices small things like this.

“This okay?” He asks once the two of you are seated. He looks a little nervous and you want to get rid of any worries that he has.

“It’s perfect,” you assure him. “I love it.”

And you, you nearly say and you almost fall out of your seat at the realization.

Do you love Matt? You care for him deeply, that’s not a question and you know your feelings for him have been shifting lately. The kiss proved that, but were you confusing love, with infatuation? Or were you starting to actually have those feelings for him?

The better question is whether it’s a good idea to let yourself have these feelings right now because while this is nice, the two of you are about to be parents and any strong feelings like that can make things messy, especially if Matt doesn’t feel the same way.

You know you’ll have to acknowledge and deal with these feelings soon but for now, you let yourself enjoy the night, stealing fries off Matt’s plate while he pretends not to notice and arguing playfully about baby names.

It’s a problem for another night.

......

a/n: i wanna be like OH WE GOT THE FIRST KISS but technically this isn’t the first kiss because, well, you know 

[abrakophile]

I was looking through a bunch of junk and found some letters from my dad when he was in the army. I’m afraid I'll accidently toss them, so maybe I’ll put them here?

OPs Name JUNE 02 03

I LOVE YOU

THIS IS MY NAME IN KURDISH

*my dad wrote his first and last name, and under it, in Kurdish*

ILL TRY AND FIND OUT HOW TO WRITE YOUR NAME AND MOMS TOO.

ITS STILL HOT. I WORK AND READ BOOKS TO PASS THE TIME AWAY.

HOW ARE YOU DOING? GOOD I HOPE. WHAT DO YOU DO FOR FUN? DO YOU EVER HANG OUT WITH YOUR FRIENDS? TELL THEM I SAID “WASSUP?” NAH, DONT TELL THEM. TELL ME WHAT YOUR THINKING. I’M TRYING TO SEND YOU SOME MORE OF MY DRAWINGS. WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DRAW YOU? DID YOU LIKE THE DRAWING I SENT YOU OF YOU NAME? ITS ALRIGHT IF YOU DIDNY. JUST TELL ME WHAT YOU DO WANT ME TO DRAW YOU.

(Flip Page)

THIS IS WEIRD! (The page does not have lines on the left side of it) i WONDER WHAT HAPPENED TO THIS PIECE OF PAPER. HaHa

I MISS YOU ALOT. PLEASE SOND ME SOME MORE OF YOUR DRAWINGS, YOU CAN DRAW ME ANYTHING YOU WANT TO.

ARE YOU BEING GOOD FOR YOUR MOM? ITS NICE IF YOU HELP HER OUT WHILE I’M AWAY.

HAVE YOU BEEN ANYPLACE NEW? HOW IS SCHOOL GOING FOR YOU? IS MOMMY GOING TO SCHOOL? I KNOW I WANT TO GO TO SCHOOL WHEN I GET BACK. HOPEFULLY I GET THE CHANCE TO LEARN EVERYTHING THAT THERE IS TO KNOW. THAT WOULD BE GREAT.

ALSO, ID LIKE TO DO SOME FISHING? HOW ABOUT YOU? I GUESS ILL END HERE. BE GOOD AND STAY IN SCHOOL. AND JUST SAY NO TO DRUGS.

THEYRE BAD.

I LIVE YOU OP

*hearts and x’s* DADDY

---

(I don’t know if all these pages are in order or if it’s missing any, but this was the letter in the same stack as the last but this one was for my mom. In some places his indents indicate passage of time.)

I HAVENT HAD ANY TIME TO WRITE SINCE WEVE BEEN ON THE ROAD, NOT TO MENTION THAT WE CAN’T SEND MAIL WHEN WE’RE MOVING ALL THE TIME.

WEVE BEEN ON THE ROAD FOR ABOUT FIVE OR SIX DAYS, I HAVENT REALLY BEEN COUNTING. I KNOW I TOLD YOU THAT WE’D BE IN KUWAIT FOR A WHILE, BUT THAT WAS SO YOU WOULDNT BE WORRIED. I’M GOING TO KEEP THIS LETTER THOUGH, TILL I GET HOME.

ABOUT TWO NIGHTS AGO, WE DROVE THROUGH BAGDHAD, SOMEBODY SAID THAT THERE WERE PILED BODIES, I DONT KNOW IF IT WAS TRUE.

AND I GUESS YESTERDAY, A COUPLE OF PEOPLE SAID THEY SAW A MISSILE OR SOEMTHING SHOT AT US. I WAS TRYING TO FIX A TRUCK SO I DIDNT SEE IT.

ITS NOT AS DUSTY HERE IN IRAQ. IT REMINDS ME OF THE CONVOYS IN KOREA.

MOST OF THE PEOPLE WILL WAVE “HI”. SOME OTHERS DONT.

I SAW A KID OPEN HIS HAND ONCE WHILE MOVING, AND IT SAID “BUSH” THAT WAS KIND OF COOL.

OH YEAH. HERES A STORY. WHILE OUT DOING A MISSION, ONE OF OUR “BRADLEY” TANKS FIRED ON AN ENEMY AMMO TRUCK AND CLIPPED A KID. THE ROUNDS BLEW ONE OF HIS LEGS OFF AND SOME OF THE OTHER, FROM THE KNEE DOWN. SO THE MEDICS PICKED HIM UP AND BROUGHT HIM TO OUR RECONCOLIDATING POINT FOR MEDICAL TREATMENT. I GUESS HE EVENTUALLY DIED FROM LOSS OF BLOOD THE NEXT NIGHT AND YESTERDAY THEY TOOK HIM OUT AND BURIED HIM.

ALSO WE PICKED UP ABOUT 25-30 P.O.W.s AND SENT THEM SOUTH.

IT GETS PRETTY COLD AT NIGHT. AND THE DAY’S ARE VERY HOT.

SINCE WE LEFT KUWAIT ITS BEEN ME AND MENDOZA IN THE FIVE TON WRECKER AND I HAVE TO ADMIT THAT ITS BEEN EXCITING. WE KEPT GETTING SEPERATED FROM THE CONVOY AND BREAKING DOWN. BUT I THINK THAT WERE BETTER NOW. HOPEFULLY.

IM STILL WAITING TO BE AMBUSHED TO MAKE ALL THIS SEEM REAL TO ME. A PART OF ME WANTS IT AND ANOTHER DOESNT.

AND IT SEEMS LIKE ONLY OUR UNIT HAS TO STAY IN UNIFORM, EVERYONE ELSE WEARS T-SHIRTS AND BANDENA’S AND RAGS ON THEIR HEAD

WERE STILL GOING NORTH. NOBODY KNOWS HOW LONG WE’LL STAY. ITS NOT THAT BAD HERE. MEANING, IT COULD BE WORSE. 

I USED A “SHIT-CHAIR”. ITS JUST A METAL CHAIR WITH A HOLE CUT IN THE MIDDLE AND THE SEAT FROM A TOILET BOLTED TO IT, GROSS.

HELICOPTERS CAN BE HEARD ALL DAY AND NIGHT. I GOT TO SEE THEM DROP BOMBS ALL DAY ABOUT 3 DAYS AGO, FROM A DISTANCE OF COURSE.

ILL BE DRIVING AGAIN, IN A MINUTE. PROBABLY RE-FUEL AND BACK ON THE ROAD AGAIN. IM ENJOYING IT.

I HAVE 8 MAGAZINES FULL OF ROUNDS. NO GRENADES, BUT I LIKE IT LIKE THAT.

SOMETIMES IT SMELLS LIKE SHIT.

I GUESS ILL END IT HERE FOR NOW

I LOVE YOU AND MISS YOU TWO TWICE IF NOT THRICE AS MUCH AS YOU MIGHT MISS ME TOO.

HELLO AGAIN. WERE SOMEWHERE NEAR TIKRI + MOSUL. YESTERDAY, ME + MENDOZA WENT LOOKING FOR MOMENTO’S. WE BROKE A LOCK TO A NEAR BY BUNKER AND FOUND 6 A.K.47s! BUT ON OUR WAY BACK TO TURN THEM IN, MAJOR TATU GOT THEM FROM US. I WAS SO PISSED. BUT I GOT A GAS MASK w/ FILTER, A FULL MAGAZINE CLIP FROM ONE OF THE A.K.s AND A BERET WITH IRAQ 1 RANK ON IT.

I MADE A STENCIL FOR THE TRUCK WERE RIDING IN. ITS CALLED THE “GAMBLER.” YESTERDAY MENDOZA DROVE, SO TODAY ILL BE DRIVING.

IM NOT POSITIVE, BUT, I THINK WERE GOING TO TURKEY. NIETO SAYS THAT HE OVERHEARD SOMEBODY FROM S1 (or SI, I’m not sure) SAYING WE MIGHT GET PAID EXTRA FOR GOING THROUGH BAGHDAD.

I THINK NIETO’S MAD AT ME. CANT EXPLAIN WHY. MAYBE ITS BECAUSE IM RIDING WITH MENDOZA AND HE DOESNT LIKE MENDOZA TOO MUCH. OH WELL, WHATEVER REASON, HOPE THINGS GET NORMAL AGAIN. HAVE TO GO,

*hearts and xs*

TODAY IS THE 25th OF APRIL, I RECEIVED FIVE OR SIX (OR SEVEN) LETTERS YESTERDAY. THE LATEST WAS DATED 07 OF APRIL. THAT TELLS ME THAT ITS GOING TO TAKE A WHILE TO COMMUNICATE.

WE HAVENT RECEIVED MAIL BECAUSE WEVE BEEN MOVING NEVER STAYING IN ONE PLACE MORE THAN A DAY, OR TWO, UNTIL NOW. WE’VE BEEN IN THIS SPOT GOING ON FOUR DAYS TOMORROW?!

GIVE ME A MINUTE...

FOR THE LAST COUPLE OF DAYS IVE BEEN HELPING MENDOZA PULL THE ENGINE OUT OF A 5 TON TRUCK AND SWITCH IT w/ ANOTHER ONE. IT WOULD HAVE BEEN EASY BUT THE FLY WHEEL SEIZED UP INSIDE THE BELL HOUSING. ITS FINISHED NOW AND THE RUMOR IS WE’RE LEAVING  (OR MOVING) AGAIN TOMORROW.

ITS 10:33 THURSDAY MORNING. YOUR TIME IS 12:32 JUST TURNING THURSDAY.

I ALMOST CRYED WHEN I SAW ELIS PICTURE. I REALLY MISS BOTH OF YOU. LET ME BACK TO BEFORE I GOT DISTRACTED. I HAVENT BEEN ABLE TO SEND MAIL BECAUSE WE’VE BEEN MOVING. BUT I GUESS THAT WHATEVER THREAT THERE WAS (IF ANY), ISNT SO THREATFUL ANYMORE, WE CAN START RECEIVING AND SENDING MAIL. NO PHONE TO CALL FROM, AND NO INTERNET TO E-MAIL FROM.

THE WHOLE UNIT IS SCATTERED, SO EVEN IF I GET WHAT YOU NEED IT’LL TAKE FOREVER TO GET IT TO YOU. LET ME PULL THOSE LETTERS BACK OUT. OH WAIT. I DID LAUNDRY AND SOME UNDERWEAR THATS DRY, FELT HARD, OH WELL, WAIT A SECOND, K

I HAD TO FOLD SOME T-SHIRTS. ALL MY SOCKS ARE STILL DAMP. 

YOU CAN USE MY CONTRACT TO SHOW THAT I ENLISTED IN TEXAS AND HOWS THIS

*On a separate sheet my dad wrote a detailed note for my mom to give to someone to confirm that he did want to buy a house. He writes “I AM ALIVE AND WELL.” and “PLEASE ACCEPT THIS PAPER”, then he signed it with his scribble signature, and underneath it wrote his name in print and added “1st SQUADRON 10th CAVALRY HEADQUARTERS TROOP (I have no clue what this means)*

HOW’S THAT? HOPE I SPELLED EVERYTHING CORRECTLY. IM ALMOST READY WITH A DESIGN TO COVER THE OTHER TATTOOS ON MY LEFT FOREARM.

I JUST FINISHED LOOKING OVER ALL THOSE LETTERS YOU SENT FOR ME

IM BACK! I GOT SLEEPY SO I TRYED TO LAY DOWN FOR A LITTLE BIT. NO SLEEP. I DONT THINK. I DIDNT HAVE ENOUGH WATER TO WASH MY DCV’S AND A PAIR OF BDV’S. BESIDES FOR DRINKING WATER, BUT WE HAVE TO CONSERVE IT.

LET ME TELL YOU ABOUT THE RUMORS. TOMORROW WE’LL BE LEAVING FOR THE IRAN/IRAQ BORDER TO DO “PEACE KEEPING” FOR 3 TO 6 mths. OTHERS SAY THAT THE 4ID (i think is what this says) GENERAL WANTS TO KEEP US HERE TILL NOV., THATS WHEN 1 CAV WILL COME TO REPLACE US. WHILE OTHERS SAY WE MIGHT LEAVE BY JUNE. NOTHINGS FOR SURE.

SMALLER RUMORS FLOATING AROUND THE SITE ARE; RAMSEY AND SFC BACON ARE SLEEPING TOGETHER. SGT SIREK HAS PLANS TO TAKE NIETO AS HIS APPRENTICE AND PADIWAN LEARNER OF THE DARK SIDE. LITTLE BLACK ARNOLD IS MILITARY INTELLIGENCE FOR SPECIAL FORCES OPERATING UNDER COVER A SURVEILLENCE AS PART OF

*the rest of the page is blank*

IM BACK. TODAY IS THE 27th. I GOT BACK TO THE LITTLE CAMP AREA ABOUT AN HOUR AND A HALF AGO. I LEFT YESTERDAY MORNING TO, WELL, AS PART OF DE-CON (DE-CONTAMINATION) MISSION. HERES THE INFORMATION THAT I GATHERED.

A SITE HAD BEEN FOUND THAT WAS THOUGHT TO HAVE CHEMICAL WEAPONS AND 1-10 WAS APPOINTED TO GO TO THE SITE AND DE-CON THE CIVILIANS THAT WERE GOING TO OPEN THEM. AS IT TURNS OUT THE CIVILIANS HAVE BEEN DE-LAYED AND WOULD BE SET BACK 1 DAY.

THE NBC TEAM THAT I WAS WITH WERENT PREPARED TO STAY OVER NIGHT AND AS FORCASTED BY SSG MINOR WE MIGHT HAVE HAD TO STAY 3 TO 4 DAYS. EVERYBODY WAS PISSED.

LATELY ITS BEEN GETTING REALLY COLD AT NIGHT AND WE JUST HAPPENED TO BE NEAR A RUNNING RIVER. SO THE, ITS ABOUT 9 O’CLOCK AND IM BEAT, NO SLEEPING BAG OR ANYTHING TO COVER UP WITH AND I DECIDE TO TRY AND SLEEP. I GET AS COMFORTABLE AS POSSIBLE AND I GET ATTACKED BY MOSQUITOS. NOW IM PISSED SO I DECIDED TO JUST TO STAY UP ALL NIGHT. ABOUT 10PM ONE OF THE HEMTT (this might just say “hemi”, I don’t know) FUELERS SHOWS UP AND SGT TORRES SAYS HE HAS EVERYBODYS SLEEPING BAG! THE SITES ABOUT 45 MINS AWAY AND THEY LEFT SOMETIME MID AFTERNOON TO GET OUR SHIT, I HATE THESE PEOPLE.

RIGHT NOW ITS 9:01 PM AND ITS 11:02 AM YOUR TIME. I MISS YOU.

RIGHT NOW IM GOING TO ADDRESS AN ENVELOPE AND HAVE IT READY TO SEND TOMMOROW THE 28th. IM SORRY IF IT SEEMS THAT IM NOT WRITING VERY OFTEN. FOR A WHILE WE COULDN’T. AND NOW THAT IT SEEMS WE MIGHT BE HERE A LITTLE WHILE, THEYVE KEPT ME REALLY BUSY. LET ME ADDRESS THE ENVELOPES (he drew a star here)

ALL DONE. I THOUGHT ABOUT THE HOUSE A LOT TODAY AND YESTERDAY. IM SURE BY THE TIME THIS LETTER REACHES YOU, YOU’LL HAVE EITHER GOTTEN IT OR GAVE IT UP. IM O.K. WITH EITHER DECISION YOUVE MADE.

YOUVE KEPT THIS FAMILY TOGETHER, AND THAT MAKES ME PROUD. YOUR SMART, ATTRACTIVE AND FUNNY. AND YOU DONT TAKE ANY SHIT FROM ANYBODY. I LOVE YOU.

I HOPE THAT OUR DAUGHTER TURNS OUT TO BE LIKE YOU.

I GUESS ILL MAIL THIS TOMORROW, FIRST THING, SO

EVER YOURS

EVER MINE

*my dad signed it with his scribble, and wrote his name under it. under that are hearts and x’s with my mom’s name and then my name under hers.*

[justjeonday]

Solace | kim namjoon

Solace; comfort or consolation in a time of great distress or sadness.

- pairing: kim namjoon x reader

- genre: angst, fluff

- word count: 4,400

- warnings: reader fears what the future holds, very brief mentions of anxiety, includes descriptions of feelings/behaviour that might be associated with mild depression (the reader is only stuck in a rut in this fic and it’s nowhere near as critical as depression, but I still wanna be safe and warn about this in case it might be triggering for someone!)

- rating: PG

- notes: I’m excited to finally post on here again! I’ve had this idea for a while, but I haven’t had the time to work on it until now. I think I like how it turned out??  I’m not sure yet lol. I’ve been working on a few fics over the past few weeks, but I keep getting stuck and this is the only thing I’ve managed to finish since I last posted. Since I have a little more free time, due to the quarantine, I’ll hopefully be able to post some more soon! But for now, I hope you’ll enjoy reading this - thank you for all your support! <33 (this is still not completely edited btw so I apologize for any mistakes you might find)

- inspired by: this vlive.

- song: Solace by mell-ø & Ambulo

You stare blankly at the screen in front of you, eyes heavy and mind dull as the seconds count down for the next episode to start playing. This is all you’ve done since waking up, binge-watching some random kdrama you found online. It’s not great, and you’re not focused - but you figure it’s enough to keep you occupied for at least a few more hours. Enough to push most of your gloomy thoughts to the back of your mind.

You feel exhausted, the past four days mostly consisting of work and very few hours of sleep - plus added pressure and stress of having to keep up with studying during it all. Your arms ache from serving and cleaning up tables until late after midnight. After finishing up and closing the place, you’d go straight home to sleep - not having the energy to care for yourself. Then you’d wake up at noon, and have some breakfast before yet again making your way to work. Many people this time of year, during spring break, take vacations with their families so your boss needed you to put in more effort than usual to keep it all running smoothly. You’re grateful for the opportunity to make some extra money, but at this point it feels like you’re doing too much and your body isn’t willing to keep up anymore.

You feel overwhelmed - lost. Are your efforts even worth it when they’re not going towards something you want in the future? Thoughts like these have been weighing you down ever since you woke up, and you had decided it’d be best for you to call in sick and just be sad today. You had moved from the bed to your sofa, and here you’ve been laying ever since then. All the blinds in your apartment are down, no hint of sunlight peeking through - no trace of hope seeping in, no light capable of bringing color to your sombre day. 

You sigh as another episode starts playing, mind brought to the small recap that’s starts playing across the display. You try your best to pay attention to it in hopes of you actually starting to like it so that watching it won’t be so boring. You pull your covers up to your chin, basking in the scent of your boyfriend’s cologne stuck to his shirt you’re snuggled up in. It brings you comfort, soothes you and calms you - it makes you feel secure where you are.

You breathe it in, the longing feeling to hold your boyfriend intensifying as you do.

A sudden chime makes you jump slightly, eyes landing on the door as you sit up  - heart beating quickly in response to the unforeseen ringing disturbing the calm atmosphere in your apartment. You dread leaving the comfort you’re sofa is bringing you, but you feel impolite leaving whoever it is waiting. So you get up and mope over to the door, your body feeling heavier than usual, as if a force is pulling you to the ground.

With lethargy still clinging to you, you don’t bother looking through the peephole before unlocking and pulling the door open - wanting to get it over with and get back to hiding under your covers. Your eyes squint slightly at the sudden light leaking in from the hallway, but you instantly recognize the tall figure stood in front of you.

“Joon?” You gasp quietly, heart skipping a beat in surprise. 

His lips stretch into a smile, arms reaching out and inviting you into his embrace. Immediately you walk towards him, wrapping your own arms around his neck as his end up around your waist to pull you against him. You smile, face laying in the crook of his neck.

“Hi, baby,” He mumbles, a smile evident in his voice as he presses kisses against the exposed skin on your shoulder that’s peeking out through the collar of Namjoon’s oversized shirt you’re clad in.

“I missed you so much,” You say against his skin, voice strained from not uttering a word all day. You enjoy the presence of your boyfriend for a few more seconds before pulling away to look at him, “I thought you’d be gone until next week?” You utter, confused.

“Plans got cancelled,” He whispers, leaning forward to plant a kiss onto your nose - causing you to scrunch it as he does.

You smile in content as you look at him, eyes scanning over his face before unavoidably landing on the pink of his lips. You reach up and press your own lips against the corner of his mouth, before you change target and kiss him - your eyes fluttering close as you cherish the feeling of them against yours again. He kisses you back and you taste the rose lip balm coating his lips, the one he always has with him in his pocket. It makes you smile into the kiss and pull away, suddenly turning shy as you feel blood rush to your cheeks. You hide by his neck again, lips brushing over the mole just under his jaw.

You feel his chest vibrate against yours lightly as he chuckles at you, arms squeezing tighter around your waist. Your fingers start playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. He’s been growing it out for a few months now and the mullet is now very apparent - even more so than when he left. He dyed his hair a beautiful lilac shade not too long ago, and you love the way it looks on him. Nothing beats his natural dark brown hair, but somehow he manages to make every hair color look just as good and at this point you just can’t decide which one’s your favorite. He’s making it very difficult for you.

You walk backwards, making Namjoon follow you as you’re still secure in his arms. Once back in the darkness of your apartment you kick the door shut. You give your boyfriend a peck on the cheek before you pull away from him, letting him get comfortable and take off his shoes as you return to your sofa.

Namjoon, now that he’s able to focus on his surroundings, takes instant notice to the darkness that suffocates your apartment - and the messy sofa. If anyone knows you well, it’s him. After knowing each other for almost two years, he can read you like an open book without problem. One of the many things he’s come to learn is how much you hate wasting the light of day, and especially so during this time of year. You love spring, it’s your favorite time of the year and you always long for it whenever it isn’t current. He also knows that, if you’re not up and getting ready by 9 AM, you’ll most likely beat yourself up for it. However, on rare occasions, you’ll let yourself lay under the covers for another hour or so - but that's only if he’s there, laying next to you

Cuddling is something you simply can’t say no to.

Automatically, taking all these things into consideration, Namjoon starts to worry.

He kicks his sneakers off as his gaze follows you, watching as you fall down on the couch of which looks like it has been occupied all day. Your figure disappears under the cover, and he makes his way over to you. “Is everything alright?” He asks, a crease forming between his eyebrows.

You register his question but you don’t answer it, instead you reach your arms out and gesture for him to join you on the couch. His features soften and he manages to squeeze down next to you, despite the small space left to be occupied. Your leg comes out from under the covers to lay over his hip, holding him close to prevent him from falling to the floor.

You let your eyes shamelessly admire his face even though he’s aware, your fingers once again coming up to brush through his hair - strands of lavender running softly in between them as you do.

He lets his own gaze roam across your features, searching for any sign of anxiety or sorrow. “Hey,” he says, bringing your attention back to his previously asked question.

“Everything’s fine now that you’re here, don’t worry Joon,” you mumble, your focus still on his hair.

Namjoon doesn’t fall for your excuse. Grabbing your wrist softly, he removes your hand out of his hair and lays it over his chest, making you look at him. “Please talk to me.”

You sigh, avoiding his gaze as you attempt to sugarcoat what’s really going on. “Work’s just been really tough, it’s not that serious.”

You always feel bad complaining about work, or sharing the weight of your problems with Namjoon. You know how tough his job is compared to yours, and his schedule is never really empty. You know he loves what he does more than everything, but you’ve seen how hard it can get as well. So compared to your job, you realize the hours you put in are minimal next to the amount of time he dedicates to his job. Complaining just doesn’t feel right.

“You really underestimate me,” He sighs, eyebrows raised at you. “I can tell it’s not just work, it’s almost five in the afternoon and you’re still laying on the couch with my shirt on - you only do that when you’re feeling really low.”

You give up, accepting the fact he can see right through you no matter how hard you resist to let it show. “My head just feels kind of crowded,” you start. “I feel like there’s so many thoughts in my head, and I can’t organize or figure any of them out. I feel lost, I have no idea what the future holds and that’s fine - but I don’t even have a vision of what I want it to hold. I’m just not sure I’m walking down the right path.”

With Namjoon being back next to you, you certainly feel better - but still, it doesn’t remove any of your worries. You wait for a response, but a few seconds go by and there's still just silence. You look up to meet your boyfriend’s gaze, his eyes showing empathy as he looks back at you.

Without a word, he slips out of your embrace before he gets up and walks over to your windows. Before you know it, he pulls one of your blinds up. The sun shines straight in your face, making you quickly seek cover under the pillow next to you. As you hide, you hear Namjoon proceed to pull every blind up, the room becoming even brighter as he does. After he’s done you hear his footsteps close in on you, and suddenly he rids you of your shield - leaving you exposed to the blinding rays of light that are now touching every possible surface in your living room. Your hands come up to cover your eyes, groaning. 

He gathers all your blankets and pillows you’ve taken from your bedroom before disappearing to put them back where they belong. Even with the low state you're in, you feel appreciation and adoration causing tickles in your belly. He always does this, always makes it his priority to bring you up when you're down. You find it endearing, how dedicated he gets - and lucky to say the least.

“What are you doing?” You ask out into the open, Namjoon still fixing your bed in the other room.

“I’m taking you somewhere,” says your boyfriend, walking into the room again.

You furrow your eyebrows, eyes finally adjusting to the light as you stretch - limbs splayed across the couch. “And where may that be, Mr. I’m On A Mission?” 

He snickers at the name, reaching his hand out for you to take. “You’ll find out once we get there.” He pulls you up from the sofa, making you stand before him. “Go put something warm on, the sun’s really nice but it’s still quite chilly,” he says.

Your heart flutters at his sweet gestures. Having been with Namjoon for such a long time, you’d expect the flutters to fade and his gestures losing impact along with them. But it’s all still there, just like when you first fell for him. Your heart still flutters at the dimples in which appear when he smiles, and at how his eyes turn into crescent moons as he laughs - how he shows affection but then becomes shy after. You’ve realized it’s those small things you usually wouldn’t think to pay attention to, but to you they all still cause butterflies to swarm in the pit of your stomach, and you swear you fall in love with him over and over again every time.

You still feel a force pulling you to the ground as you make your way to your closet, but not as intense as it was before Namjoon showed up at your doorstep. You’re still having to push thoughts back, still have to prevent them from getting the best of you. Knowing you have Namjoon with you, and knowing he’ll listen if you’ll talk about it, does bring you comfort. You’re well aware he isn’t capable of helping rid of these thoughts in your head, as he can’t assure you what the future holds or what path you should go down so it all works out - no one can. But still, you’re more than grateful because you’re certain he’ll be the one to at least make you feel better about things, and keep you from giving up.

You grab a lounge set from your drawer and slip onto it, the soft fabric fitting loosely over your body just like how you want it - only really seeking for comfort. Taking Namjoon’s words into consideration, you also make sure to grab a warm coat from your closet before heading back to the living room.

You find your boyfriend sitting on the edge of the couch with rays of light reaching him, a golden aura forming around his figure, making him look like a fallen angel from heaven. And thinking about it, you’re convinced he is one. Where would you be without him? 

You take a moment to enjoy the magical sight, your fingertips starting to tingle as you get an urge to skim them over his beautiful golden skin. Namjoon looks up, catching you as you eye him with a small smile on your lips.

He chuckles. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you mumble, walking up to him.

He stands up, arms capturing you in a hug once again. Your cheek ends up pressed against the soft fabric of his sweater, the scent of his favorite cologne stuck to it, making you breathe it in and relax against him.  

“You look cozy,” he comments, pulling away to look you up and down.

You mumble a quiet thank you, your hands finding his and intertwining your fingers.

“Ready?” He asks.

Your nod doesn’t come off too assuring, making him laugh as the both of you slip your shoes on. Namjoon grabs his coat and with that you make your way out of your apartment, your hands interlocking again as you do. You exit your apartment complex and brisk air surrounds you, causing you to shudder and walk closer to Namjoon as you search for any source of warmth. The two of you stop at the side of the curb as your eyes search for your cab that has yet to arrive, the sun now hitting you and warming you up slightly.

As you wait you turn to eye your boyfriend, love swelling in your chest.

“You look really handsome today,” You say through a smile, eyes meeting his.

You hadn’t seen him in this particular outfit before, but he pulls it off really well. He’s clad in a denim on denim outfit, with a jean coat that reaches all the way to his calves. You’re not surprised it looks amazing on him, everything does.

“Thank you,” he says, cheeks rubescent as his eyes scan over his own body before looking at you and squeezing your hand in his.

You lean into him, nose scrunching at his adorable shy behaviour. Getting the sudden urge to peck him, you get up on your toes and press your lips to the dimple that dents his cheek. He pulls you into his side, hand laying on your hip. As you pull away your attention turns to the black car pulling up in front of you. Namjoon steps forward and opens the door and beckons for you to get in before him, being the gentleman that he is. You climb into the car, moving over so your boyfriend can get in next to you. He sits down and closes the door before reaching into his pocket and grabbing his phone, leaning over to show the driver where he wants to go. Gazing over, you try to catch a glimpse of anything that might reveal what location you’re going to but you manage to get nothing.

“No peeking, baby,” He teases as he puts his phone back in his pocket.

You pout, giving him pleading eyes.

He laughs, his hand coming to lay just above your knee before squeezing lightly. “Be patient.”

You let out a chuckle at your own childish behaviour, laying your hands on top of his before turning to look out at the surroundings as they flash by in a blur. As the driver takes you through Seoul, you find your mind wandering again as thoughts start filling your head. To distract yourself you turn to your boyfriend and ask him about his recent work trip.

Before you know it, the car comes to a stop and with cheeks still aching from a joke Namjoon whispered to you just seconds ago you watch him get out of the car. He holds the door open for you, a grin still on his face as you get out - the adorable indents in his cheeks once again appearing. You always get an urge to kiss them, but if you’d act on it every time that’s all you’d do.

Once you’re out of the car, you glance at the scenery of which you’re very familiar with, and which you’ve come to love and appreciate since being with Namjoon. One thing you learned very early on about him is how much he loves and treasures nature. You didn’t really see the point before, especially since you live in such a big city you don’t really think of it that much. On your own, before meeting him, you’d never think to go to a park just to relax. But now you’ve really learned to appreciate it and the healing powers it holds, something Namjoon also taught you.

“You took me to Hangang Park?” You say, a tinge of excitement in your voice as your eyes take in the beautiful view of the setting sun reflecting in the river.

Namjoon looks at you lovingly as you view the location. Hangang park isn’t away from any civilization, there’s still skyscrapers in view and it’s crowded. It’s not what you consider a traditional park, there’s not grass everywhere you look or trees surrounding you. There are platforms in stone and bigger patches of grass scattered around evenly. Even though it might not be the most green park, something about it brings you more comfort than others do. You think it might be the combination of city and nature, since you’ve lived in Seoul your whole life you’re used to tall buildings and city lights - all that comes with it. And with what Namjoon has taught you about nature, and how you’ve become someone who appreciates that setting as well, you really feel at home when you’re at Hangang Park. 

You said this to your boyfriend when you came here with him for the first time, and that’s probably his reason for choosing this specific location. It makes you feel warm inside, happy he takes all these things and uses them to make you feel relaxed and calm when you need it.

Namjoon comes up behind you and lays a hand over the small of your back, the two of you starting to walk slowly closer to the river. The sunset induces beautiful hues of orange and pink to paint over the blue sky, making the world around you breathtakingly beautiful. You feel some of the weight slowly ease off of your shoulders, and you feel as if you’re finally able to inhale and exhale deeply with ease. The both of you walk over to one of the grass-patches by the river, sitting down on it with shoulders touching and fingers intertwined.

You sit like that in silence for a few minutes, and you sense Namjoon knows you need to just be for a while. You enjoy the feeling of him next to you, his presence as the both of you watch the sky and its reflection in the body of water before you. Surrounding you, there are groups of friends, couples, families, also enjoying the wonderful time of day. The atmosphere around you is happy and tranquil, in contrast to your dark apartment you’d locked yourself in earlier.

“It’s beautiful,” you mumble, laying your head on Namjoon’s shoulder as you watch the hues of the horizon fade into the light blue above you.

A few more minutes of comfortable silence pass by, before he brings his attention to you.

He brings your interlocked hands up to plant a kiss on your knuckles. “Let it out.”

You look up at him, your response lazy, “Hmm?”

“Whatever you’re holding in, whatever’s bothering you. It won’t do any good for you to keep it in.”

You exhale, resting your head against his shoulder again as your eyes return to the skyline. “I’m feeling overwhelmed, and every thought that has entered my mind I’ve been overthinking for no reason. I feel like I’ve gone down this path that I’m now stuck on and I can’t see any lanes or exits for me to lead me in another direction. There’s so many outcomes that could occur if, when the opportunity comes, I choose to walk another way - so many things that could go wrong.” You stop, fingers of your free hand coming to fiddle with the cool metal of his rings as you think of what to say next. “I feel like I’m putting in a lot of effort to do good at work and with studying, but it doesn’t feel worth it when I’m not sure the hard work I’m putting in is doing anything for my future.” You look down at your hands as you feel the familiar lump of anxiety form in the back of your throat.

“It’s normal to have thoughts, and to overthink them. I’ve been where you are right now, and I get you. It’s normal to worry about the future, everyone does - because it’s full of uncertainty and you can never really know what to expect or what it’ll turn into as time passes.” He pauses, and his words bring you comfort - knowing you’re not completely alone in feeling like this. “Someone told me once to think of my mind as a tree, and of my thoughts as branches. For these branches to grow, you’ll have to experience a lot of different things - hurtful things, things that’ll anger and confuse you along with happy and hopeful things. Your mind consists of so many of these branches, there’s happiness, pain, hope, desperation, devastation - everything.” He speaks, hand coming up from time to time in front of him to gesticulate.

You listen carefully to his words as your eyes follow pastel clouds that float across the sky. You’ve always loved how self-aware Namjoon is, you’ve come to think of it as one of his most beautiful traits - one that you really adore. He’s always stayed true to himself, no matter what. He recognizes his mistakes and faults so that he can better them and become someone who’s greater than the person he was the day before. You wish you can be that one day, as good of a person as he is. He always tries to be the best version of himself.

“You’ll need to prune and cut them to take care of the tree, to care for your mind and for it to keep growing beautifully. The hurt will be unavoidable, but you’ll have to make these choices so you can continue to grow and blossom. These thoughts and feelings you’re currently feeling, try to think of them as branches of your young days, as branches of a young tree. When you’ve experienced all of the hurt, the grief, the happiness, the love - you’ll be a beautiful tree, the most beautiful tree.” He says. “I know you’ll be,” He turns to search for your gaze, wanting you to see and notice the sincerity of his words.

Your eyes meet his, inside of which sunsets of their own exist as the sky reflects in them. You feel the force that’s been pulling you down fade, and you feel yourself tearing up as you look at the man in front of you, whom you cherish most out of anything. You realize how blessed you are to have met someone like him, someone with a precious soul like his own.

“Thank you,” you whisper, feeling yourself starting to tear up.

Slightly embarrassed, you look away but you feel Namjoon’s finger nudge lightly at the underside of your chin - making your eyes meet his again. “No need to thank me baby,” He says softly, wiping your a few tears that escaped with the pads of his thumbs “I just want you to be okay, that’s all that matters.”

The love you feel for him spreads like a wildfire through your body. “I love you so much,” you say, eyes still looking into his.

A smile grows on his lips as he looks at you. “Come here,” he mumbles, hand reaching to the backside of your thigh.

He pulls your leg over both of his, so that you end up straddling his thighs before his arms snake around your waist to pull you into him. You embrace him by putting your arms around his neck and pressing your cheek against his. With your body now filled with relief and comfort, you find yourself wishing you could stay like this forever - keep him this close forever.

“I love you too,” He whispers in your ear.

The future remains a mystery, something you’ll never be sure of.

But in this moment, what you’re completely certain of, is your everlasting love for the man in your arms.

He’s your everything.

He’s your start and your end.

He’s your Solace.

[bobasheebaby]

100 Buffy Prompts

I had a lot of fun compiling this list. I was cracking up more than once and now I want to binge Buffy. If there is a show you want let me know because these seriously help me shut of my brain during this covid hell.

1 “NAME, your mouth is open, sound is coming from it. This is never good.” – Buffy Summers

2 “I just want to be alone and quite in a room with a chair and a fireplace and a tea cozy. I don’t even know what a tea cozy is, but I want one.” – Buffy Summers

3 "They were supposed to be my light at the end of the tunnel. I guess they were a train.” – Buffy Summers

4 “I don’t know what’s coming next. But I do know it’s gonna be just like this – hard, painful. But in the end, it’s gonna be us. If we all do our parts, believe it, we’ll be the one’s left standing.” – Buffy Summers

5 “I don’t handle rejection well. Funny, considering all the practice I’ve had, huh?” – Xander Harris

6 "Just because you’re better than us doesn’t mean you can be all superior.” – Xander Harris

7 “I’m leaning towards blind panic myself.” – Rupert Giles

8 “Since the picture you just painted means that I will never touch food of any kind again, you’ll just have to pick it up yourself.” – Rupert Giles

9 "With all the rubbish people keep sticking in my head, it's a wonder that there's room for my brain." – Spike

10 "Oh, I don't know. Looking in the mirror every day and seeing nothing there...it's an overrated pleasure.” – Angel

11 "Passion. It lies in all of us. Sleeping, waiting, and though unwanted, unbidden, it will stir. Open it's jaws, and howl. It speaks to us, guides us. Passion rules us all, and we obey. What other choice do we have?" – Angel

12 "Anyway, for real now, I'm gonna ask you something, and you gotta promise you'll be honest and not spare my feelings just 'cause I could kill you. You promise?" Faith

13 "You gotta give me something to do. There's no way I'm sleeping. Don't you need anyone dead? Or maimed? I can settle for maimed.” – Faith

14 "You know, I honestly don't think there's a human word fabulous enough for me.”- Glorificus

15 “I’m cookie dough. I’m not done baking. I’m not finished becoming whoever the hell it is I’m gonna turn out to be. I make it through this, and the next thing, and the next thing, and maybe one day, I turn around and realize I’m ready. I’m cookies. And then, you know, if I want someone to eat m — or enjoy warm, delicious, cookie me, then that’s fine. That’ll be then. When I’m done.” — Buffy Summers

16 “Seize the moment, ’cause tomorrow you might be dead.” — Buffy Summers

17 “The hardest thing in this world is to live in it. Be brave. Live.” — Buffy Summers

18 “No weapons. No friends. No hope. Take all that away and what’s left?” “Me.” — Angelus & Buffy Summers

19 “Don’t you have an elsewhere to be?” – Cordelia Chase

20 “God! What is your childhood trauma?!” – Cordelia Chase

21 “Gee, can you vague that up for me?” – Buffy Summers

22 “I laugh in the face of danger. Then I hide until it goes away.” – Xander Harris

23 “I don’t know what your problem is, what your issues are. But as of this moment I officially don’t care.” – Xander Harris

24 “You’re really campaigning for bitch of the year, aren’t you?” – Cordelia Chase

25 “I mock you with my monkey pants!” – Oz

26 “Funny how preparing looks an awful lot like sitting on your ass.” – Spike

27 “That’s fairly freaksome.” – Oz

28 “Do you have any tact at all?” – Giles

29 “I’ve known you for two minutes and I can’t stand you.” – Spike

30 “Great. Now I’m gonna be stuck with serious thoughts all day.” – Cordelia Chase

31 “You didn’t happen to take a lot of drugs, did you?” – Willow

32 “I’ve seen honest faces…they usually come attached to liars.” – Willow

33 “Can I be blind, too?” – Xander

34 “Gee, I hope I’m not interrupting anything really depressing.” – Riley

35 “And you just accepted that? I only said that because I thought that’s what you wanted to hear.” – Anya

36 “This is the crack team that foils my every plan? I am deeply shamed.” – Spike

37 “We’ve got to face it, we’ve changed. Well, not you—you’re still sadistic and self-centered.” – Giles

38 “Sometimes the most adult thing you can do is ask for help when you need it.” – Giles

39 “Did everybody have their Crazy Flakes today?” – Xander

40 “Do you love me?” “What?” “Do you?” “I love you. I don't know if I trust you.” “Maybe you shouldn't do either.” “Maybe I'm the one who should decide!” — Angel & Buffy

41 “Six a.m.!" NAME cried. "I know that's a number on my clock, but I've never actually been awake to personally witness it!” — Xander

42 “Bored now.” — Vampire Willow

43 “We’ll go be heroes.” — Spike

44 “You have a plan?” “I am the plan.” — Giles & Buffy

45 "Strong is fighting. It's hard and it's painful, and it's every day. It's what we have to do. And we can do it together." — Buffy

46 "I make it through this and the next thing and the next thing, and maybe one day I turn around and realize I'm ready." — Buffy

47 "You have to take care of each other. You have to be strong. NAME, the hardest thing in this world is to live in it. Be brave. Live, for me." — Buffy

48 "Make your choices. Are you ready to be strong?" — Buffy

49 “Weird love’s better than no love.” — Buffy

50 “The who having wha with huh?” — Buffy

51 “Whatever you choose, you’ve got my support. Just think of me as… as your… You know, I’m searching for supportive things and I’m coming up all bras. So, something slightly more manly, think of me as that.” – Xander

52 "A lot of things that seem strong and good and powerful, they can be painful." Angel

53 "To forgive is an act of compassion, NAME. It's-it's... it's not done because people deserve it. It's done because they need it." — Giles

54 "In the end, we all are who we are, no matter how much we may appear to have changed." — Giles

55 "I don't have time for vendettas. The mission is what matters." — Buffy

56 "I don't want to protect you from the world. I want to show it to you." — Buffy

57 "Make your choice. Are you ready to be strong?" — Buffy

58 "Recognizing power in another does not diminish your own." — Joss Whedon

59 “Out. For. A. Walk… Bitch.” — Spike

60 “You can’t see the stars, love. That’s the ceiling. Also, it’s day.” — Spike

61 “Is everyone here very stoned?” — Spike

62 “I feel safe with you.” [Chokes] “TAKE THAT BACK!” — Dawn & Spike

63 “I love you.” “Oh, my god.” “Hey, no. Look at me. I... love you. You're all I bloody think about... dream about. You're in my gut... my throat... I'm drowning in you, NAME. I'm drowning in you.” — Spike & Buffy

64 “Just... give me something. A crumb, the barest smidgen. Tell me maybe, someday there's a chance” “NAME ... the only chance you had with me was when I was unconscious.” “Oh, wha-“ [screams, then shouts]  “What the bleeding hell is wrong with you bloody men/women? What the hell does it take? Why do you bitches torture me?” “Which question do you want me to answer first?” — Spike & Buffy

65 “You can't deny it. There's something between us.” “Loathing. Disgust.” — Spike & Buffy

66 “Could do without the laugh track, NAME.” “But it's so funny. I knew... before you did. I knew you loved the NAME. The pixies in my head whispered it to me.” — Spike & Drusilla

67 “Damn right I’m impure! I’m as impure as the driven yellow snow.” — Spike

68 “I love you.” “No, you don’t. But thanks for saying it.” — Spike & Buffy

69 “This with you, it’s wrong. I know it. I’m not a complete idiot.” — Spike

70 “You always hurt the ones you love, pet.” — Spike

71 "When I say ‘I love you,’ it’s not because I want you or because I can’t have you. It has nothing to do with me. I love what you are, what you do, how you try. I’ve seen your kindness and your strength. I’ve seen the best and worst of you. And I understand with perfect clarity exactly what you are." — Buffy

72 "I’m just gonna go home, lie down, and listen to country music. The music of pain." — Buffy

73 "I have feelings for you. I do. But it's not love. I could never trust you enough for it to be love." — Buffy

74 "Weird love's better than no love." — Buffy

75 “People don’t fall in love with what’s right in front of them. People want the dream — what they can’t have. The more unattainable, the more attractive.” — Buffy

76 "Trust is for old marrieds, NAME. Great love is wild and passionate and dangerous. It burns and consumes." “Until there's nothing left. Love like that doesn't last." — Spike & Buffy

77 "This isn't some fairy tale. When I kiss you...you don't wake up from a deep sleep and live happily ever after" — Angel

78 "I love you. I try not to, but I can't stop" — Angel

79 "If I may suggest, ‘This time it's personal.’ I mean, there's a reason why it's a classic." —Oz

80 "Well, to the casual observer, it would appear that you're trying to make your friend NAME jealous, or even the score, or something. And...that's on the empty side. See, in my fantasy, when I'm kissing you, you're kissing me. It's okay, I can wait." — Oz

81 "NAME’s our friend...except I don't like him/her.” — Xander

82 "What am I gonna do? I think about sex all the time! Sex ... Help! Four times five is thirty ... five times six is thirty-two ... Naked girls. Naked women ... Naked NAME ... Oh, stop me!" — Xander

83 "Man, NAME! My whole life just flashed before my eyes. I gotta' get me a life!" — Xander

84 “NAME. You're really campaigning for bitch-of-the-year, aren't you?” “As defending champion, you nervous?” — Cordelia & Buffy

85 "Tact is just not saying true stuff. I'll pass." — Cordelia

86 “Oh please. Like shame is something to be proud of.” — Cordelia

87 “I’m going to give you some advice: get over it.” — Cordelia

88 “Oh, and you’re welcome.” — Cordelia

89 “I’m not a sniveling little cry-NAME. I’m the nastiest guy/girl in PLACE history. I take crap from no one.” — Cordelia

90 “I think it. I say it. It’s my way.” — Cordelia

91 "I don't like spiders, okay? Their furry bodies, and their sticky webs, and what do they need all those legs for anyway? I'll tell you - for crawling across your face in the middle of the night." — Willow

92 "I don't want danger. Big 'no’ to danger.” — Willow

93 "Let's get this straight. I don't understand it. I don't wanna' understand it. You have gross emotional problems. And things are not okay between us." — Willow

94 "NAME, I got so lost." "I found you. I will always find you." — Tara & Willow

95 "But you like him/her, and when you think about him/her, you get that good down-low tickle, right?" — Faith

96 "You hurt me, I hurt you. I'm just a little more efficient." — Faith

97 "Just relax ... and take off your pants." — Faith

98 "I am, you know." “What?" “Yours." — Tara & Willow

99 "I don't have time for bondage fun." - Buffy

100 “It's fine, I don't need to be snuggled.” — Willow

[chaniters]

Reaper and the Fiend- Epilogue.

Epilogue for @kruk-art‘s Awan Cormac’s second series.

As usual, looking back id the realization that the more characters and elements you add up, the harder it gets for the plot to keep cohesion. Many times I almost call it quits, but somehow I pulled trough to the end. 

Hope you enjoy it!

Awan and “The Question”, the precognitive surviving member of the Phoenix Rangers, reflect on the aftermath of it all before Ortega joins them. 

Spoilers inside too, for Rebirth.

_______________________________________________________

The first rays of sunlight touch your Sidestep mask, as the cloud begins to recede. Ashfall and Sentinel have been working together to try and ground the toxins into a nearby landfill for hours now.

“It’s amazing, isn’t it?” The Question comments. 

“I think it’s working,” 

“Me too” He says while checking the air analyzer’s readings. “This is the real miracle”

“You still believe in miracles?”

“Magical miracles? No. But miracles made true by people with flesh, blood, and bone? Of course.”

“Interesting way to put it”

“When you’re like me, it’s the only way to put it”

“Right, I forget you’re supposed to know the future or something?” You didn’t forget. His mind is a maze that rivals yours, but he’s got a truly calm attitude about it that’s making you envious. 

“It depends. Do you believe in fate?”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you believe our lives have been predetermined from before we were made? That, someone, decided who you’re supposed to be for the rest of your existence and that’s that?”

That’s a very specific question to ask to you… 

“No. I don’t believe in fate”

“Good. Me neither.”

“But you see it. The future, I mean.”

“I like to believe we are masters of our own destiny”

“That doesn’t really answer anything.”

“Well there’s a reason I didn’t call myself ‘The Answer’, you know?”

“Shut the fuck up” you laugh, unwrapping a candy bar. “I just came here to lie down, not to have a philosophical debate”. 

“You really aren’t going to ask me about your future? Everyone does.” Is he baiting you? You get the impression he knows a lot more about you just by looking. He knows too much about... everyone. You are just another speck of dust in a sea of information. 

“No. I won’t ask” you say pulling your mask above your mouth and taking a bite of candy. 

“Huh. That’s probably wise”

“Is it?”

“Yeah. Once I tell someone how their future will look like, then it’s set in stone for them and not even I can change it. I really don’t like doing it”

“But you would have.”

“Oh, I would. I do it, more than I probably should, you know for people who need it” 

“Do I look like I need it?”

He gives you a long look.

“No. I think you’ll be just fine without it. I mean, you won’t of course, but you will.”

“That’s both ambiguous and terrifying. How do you know the future’s not set in stone even before you look?”

“I really try not to think too hard about that. I think you didn’t want a debate?”

“Fine. I just want to relax” you say retreating and straightening an overturned sunbathing chair. “It’s been a shitty day”

The door to the staircase leading to the top opens, and Ortega comes in, in full suit. 

“Sidestep. I see you’ve made yourself comfortable up here. You know, Steel could have really used your help with all the angry civs though.” 

“Funny way of showing it. He said I wasn’t part of the team when you asked me to stay.”

“Yes but… well, you know he didn’t think you would actually walk away… he thought you wouldn’t listen and help anyways like you always do.”

“Well I guess we all learned something new from that experience, didn’t we?” 

“You just wanted to piss him off that badly?”

“Ugh… no… well, maybe I did, but you know I don’t do well with crowds with strong emotions, and I had more than my fair share today. I need some peace” 

“Fine. I understand… But just so you know, you did a darn good job in there��

“... a lot of the people who got killed might disagree” you point out.

“And a lot of people who lived will be thanking you. We saved them. You saved them. No one could have predicted how this would go”

“I could. I did” the Question states while looking at the analyzer he’s been fiddling with.

“What? You did? The only thing you did was call us! Why didn’t you say shit? A lot of executives died” Ortega points out.

“If I had told you, you would have saved them, and those are the ones who would have voted not to open the Archology to the civs, and we would be having a civil war right now. Thank me later”

“You let them die!”

“I didn’t do anything. You’re the ones with fighting powers, It was you who couldn’t rescue them, remember?”

“Wow. you really are full of shit” You interject.

“Look I lost my team to that monster ok? Could’ve lost the entire city too. I don’t like it but it’s how my stupid powers work, I’m not a fighter like you two, so give me a fucking break.”

“... fine” you say, too tired to argue with this jerk. 

“Good. Ashfall’s plan is working, pollution levels are coming down… I’ll go coordinate some stuff, If you’re staying here seek me out once it goes below 33% alright?”

“We don’t work for you!” you complain. 

“We’ll do it” Ortega interrupts you.

“Ugh. Whatever”

The Question nods and leaves, letting you two alone up here at the zenith of the Arcology. The monotonous beeps of the analyzer repeat intermittently over the strong winds.

“Funny guy” you comment

“Don’t get me started on that asshole.”

“I was just finished with him anyways.”

“So it’s working?” he says changing the subject and looking down at Sentinel and Ashfall working in the distance. 

“Seems like it” you answer.

“Nice to have some good news, finally,” he says approaching the edge. 

“Join me. Nothing compares to sunbathing under a toxic cloud with your suit on.” you offer.  

“Receding, toxic cloud you mean” he clarifies taking the chair next to you and laying over it. 

“Right. Receding” you snort. 

“Not going to lie. This is the biggest fucking mess I’ve ever been into since I got into the capes business”

“Same here” you agree. Nothing you did for the farm compares to this clusterfuck.

The aftermath wasn’t pretty. Not by a longshot.

Letting Catastrofiend into the core worked, as the beast consumed enough of the gas to allow the scientists to stabilize it somewhat, and turn the lights back on essential systems through the facility. The computers were toast, however, as Charon wiped all data and OS before erasing himself, commiting digital suicide upon it’s master’s death. Everything’s working on manual overrides right now. 

There was a big scare when the Fiend came out of the core’s container, glowing like it had the power of an evil purple sun ready to burn you all, but to everyone’s surprise, it didn’t survive long after saving performing its single heroic feat. The glow became blinding, and then it disappeared, only the echoes of its roars remaining as a reminder of its presence along with a pair of purple footprints. 

You caught a glimpse of your least favorite asshole, The Void, holding some sort of gun and hiding back into it’s cloaking device, walking away. Whatever it is he wanted, you’re sure he got it, and if your scans were to be trusted, he left the arcology immediately after that. 

Your work to convince the remaining executives to let the people in was much easier now that all the surviving scientists were focused on having the building not explode. They couldn’t afford combat on the outside when their tech was unreliable, and Reaper managed to remind them of their own mortality by dusting a couple of them. All it took was a small nudge on the mind of the deciding vote and the gates were reopened. 

“We lost Psychopathor” Ortega says laying down on a chair next to yours. “A lot of the crowd still backs him and he just got lost among them.” 

“We’ll get him next time” you reassure him. “We couldn’t fight him in the middle of this civilian mess anyways or it’ would be Halloween with Catastrofiend all over again”

“... Too soon man. Too soon” he says bending his arms and putting his hands behind his head, relaxing.

“Sorry.”

“You’re right. Not a damn thing we could do about old shitface, so It’s time to lie down and wait”

He stretches, crossing his legs as he looks up, just as you were doing earlier.

“They’re doing a fantastic job” you comment.

“Sentinel I had no doubts about, but Ashfall? He really came through working with those creepy scientists about the sand-whirlpool shenanigan”

“It was a good idea” you say peeking down. As the polluted air comes down into the landfill, it goes trough a series of sand walls of that Ashfall keeps raising, coming clean on the other side. Several trucks come in with sand refills while others take the polluted compounds away. 

“Good for him. His publicity wasn’t very good before this” 

“What about your publicity?” his mask looking your way

“My last publicity stunt with you guys was with Reaper and he turned to be a homicidal maniac so I’m thinking I’ll give that a pass from now on. Please don’t get me into that shit again?” 

“That’s fair” he concedes. 

 “... anyways… they stole a bunch of tec shit from the lower levels and left. Some sort of targeting device and many plasma weapon prototypes”

“We’ll get him” you repeat. 

A news helicopter flies by, taking pictures. It turns to take one of you two. Fuck. That’s tomorrow’s cover right there... 

“I know what you’re thinking… but we’re not going to be the top news tomorrow.” 

“No? Who is?” 

“I talked to my agents… Reaper, and The Fiend it is. Geni-Tech’s minimizing  company’s responsibility for the toxins and making them the focus.”

“They  kind of had a lot to do with it anyways”

“True…”

“That’s not what’s bothering you tough?”

“How do you know?” he asks turning towards you.

“It’s pretty obvious. What happened with Elyise?”

“... mierda. You’re good. You sure you can’t read my mind?”

“I can read Idiot easy enough. It’s my favorite language”

“... she left. I can’t find her. Didn’t want to talk to me”

“Understandable. Her mother just died for real this time”

“I just… I didn’t see another way... “

“That’s because there wasn’t.” 

“And now she’s going to hate me forever for it”

“Yup, pretty much” you add looking into the distance.

“Would you had done the same?”

“You’re asking me of all people?”

“Yeah. I want to know”

“Would I sacrifice a lab monster to save countless human lives…” Shit. That should be the farm’s motto. Would you sacrifice yourself to save lives? That’d be a better question.  “Yeah. I guess I would… Look, just because you do the right thing doesn’t mean people can’t hate you for it”

“Ha. The right thing…. What even is that”

“Good question,” you say closing your eyes. “So fucking tired”

“Me too. You should get those cuts checked...”

“Later. It’s just a scratch really. And you know I don’t like”

“Hospitals, yeah I know” 

“Good”

He doesn’t reply, and you both stay silent for the longest while, just listening to the wind as Sentinel keeps the small inverted tornado pulling the cloud into the landfill with Ashfall grounding the chemicals in it.

When you finally open your eyes again, the sky has shifted and there are large patches of open sky in the cloud. Checking your watch, you realize it’s been almost an hour since you sat down here. 

Ortega’s still next to you, so it was both of you who fell asleep. 

Since when are you so careless? Lowering your guard so much next to the Marshall’s a recipe for disaster. Standing up, you take a final look at the Sentinel’s work, and the deserted streets of the city below. 

“We should get back down” you add tapping Ortega’s shoulder.

“Eh… what’s the rush?” he asks looking up. 

“Air toxicity’s down 30%,” you say pointing at the analyzer the scientists gave you, your main reason for staying up here. “I’d bet GeniTech’s going to kick everyone out in minutes”

“Yeah… at gunpoint probably.”

You open the door, letting him in first and follow up to the elevator. He makes a call with his intercom to let The Question know. 

The floors of the Arcology are packed with people from Phoenix taking refuge from the cloud. Just as you see them, they can see you too inside the glass elevator. Without warning, they explode in a thunderous roar of...cheers?

There are some boos in it as well, possibly Psychopathor’s fans, but overall it’s just deafening hero worship. 

The kind Reaper talked about. The kind that makes more people take hero drugs. Focused on you and Ortega. You’re not sure how to feel about it anymore. 

The next few hours go really quickly, and you barely manage to say goodbye to the Rangers before leaving back for Los Diablos on the first bus you can get.  You need to get back to your place and rest for a couple of days while you heal up. You definitely lied to Ortega, Catastrofiend left a bit more than just a scratch and the wound is itching all over even after you disinfected it.

Being a hero is exhausting and you’re taking a brief small vacation while you consider what to do with the mess that your life’s become since you decided to mingle with the Rangers. 

__________ Somewhere, in a parking lot in Phoenix____________

“I’m sorry Dr. I couldn’t recover your disintegration gun” The Void states while studying the small weapon in his hand. “It wasn’t in their labs by the time I got there, and with all the city going upside down it was just impossible”

“Disappointing, but not unexpected. I thank you four your services anyways and…” 

“Dr. I’ll return my initial fee to you.”

“That’s not really necessary”

“I care about my reputation. I won’t  take  payment on something I failed to deliver.” 

“That is surprisingly refreshing to hear in this line of business. Very well Void.”

“Of course. Once again, I’m sorry”

He hung up, setting the gun back inside the briefcase, before calling another number, with the San Francisco area code upfront.

“Who are you? Who gave you this number?” a female voice asked. 

“They call me, The Void. And I know all the numbers” 

“That’s very unlikely. So you say your name is Void?”

“No, I’m not just ‘Void’.  There’s a THE before it. The. It’s ‘The’ Void, you hear me?!”

“Alright, alright, calm down you freak, I got it the first time.”

“And don’t you forget it”

“Whatever. What do you want THE VOID?” she made a point to pronounce it in a very passive-aggressive way.

“I need to arrange a meeting with Big Fire about a business proposal. I think I have something he could definitely find a use for” Void added looking at the shining red dot on the disintegration gun. 

“Big fire has a use for lots of things, but no time for everything. What am I supposed to say you’re offering that’ll make him call you back?”

“Oh he’ll call me back, you can bet on it.”

“I don’t like betting honey. Now speak or fuck off” 

“Well, you’re no fun. Ok, tell him I have… a fiend in a bottle,”

“A fiend in a … wait what does that mea-… “

Void hung up without answering, a smile on his lips as he closed the briefcase.

____________________________________________________

My Fanfics: https://chaniters.tumblr.com/post/181692759294/my-fanfiction-for-fallen-hero

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fan fiction using characters and the setting of the Fallen Hero: Rebirth and upcoming Fallen Hero: Retribution games written by Malin Riden. I do not claim ownership of any characters from the Fallen Hero wold. These stories are a work of my imagination, and I do not ascribe them to the official story canon. These works are intended for entertainment outside the official storyline owned by the author. I am not profiting financially from the creation of these stories, and thank the author for her wonderful game/s, without which these works would not exist.

[pug-bitch]

That’s not why I’m going (33)

Humidity’s rising

Book: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Drake Walker x Amara Suarez

Rating: some foul language, some extremely suggestive, and a VERY steamy scene. This is absolutely NOT appropriate for people under 18. 

Word count: around 4,500 (let me know if the ‘keep reading’ cutoff isn’t working well!)

Notes: This picks up pretty much where we left off, as the gang is ready to go to karaoke, starting with Drake’s POV. This chapter is mostly fluffy stuff, because we need it :D

*****

Drake steps into the Uber, closely following Amara, who’s now sitting between him and Maxwell. He squeezes her hand once they’re all buckled in.

‘Are you sure you’re ok, baby?’

She nods enthusiastically. ‘Yes, please don’t worry. I had an episode, it’s gone now, I want tonight to be fun!’

He nods and kisses her hand. Maxwell rubs Amara’s other arm. ‘You’re right, let’s have a fun time! So happy to be all together! But where are we going exactly?’

Amara chuckles. ‘We’re going to the bar where Drake and I went for karaoke once. It’s a cop bar, it’s quiet, we just have to look out for Bastien or even Ilya, but if they’re both not there we’re in the clear.’

Max cheers. ‘Woo! A bar full of hunky cops, I love it!’

Drake laughs heartily. ‘Max, most of them are not hot. I just wanna manage your expectations!’

‘Who knows! Look, Amara was a cop, and she’s hot as hell! Why wouldn’t these cops be sexy?’

Amara gloats, ‘Oh, well he’s not wrong, Walker. Some cops are very hot indeed. Ever seen Broadchurch? David Tennant can get it.’

Max gasps, ‘YES, he can. Every time he yells ‘Millah!’ I feel a tingle inside of me.’

Drake rubs the bridge of his nose. ‘That’s all great, guys. I really needed to know what makes Maxwell tingle.’

The Uber driver lets out a throaty laugh, and then realizes that he did that out loud. They all pause for a second, and resume laughing together.

*****

‘Finally! What took you bitches so long?’ Liv complains as Drake, Amara and Max get out of their Uber. 

‘Relax, Liv, we’ve been here for two minutes!’ Hana chimes in.

Amara rolls her eyes, ‘Oh, two minutes? Poor Duchess Olivia, your time is sooo precious. Alright, let’s get in, and let’s have fun. Bertrand, I wanna hear your beautiful voice, ok?’

Bertrand blushes but smiles brightly. Amara can’t help but think they may have failed to include him enough in the past, but she’s determined to make it up to him. 

They walk into the bar, and Amara scans the room for any known faces, which she notices Drake is doing too. But they looked everywhere, and there’s no sign of Bastien, Ilya, or any other members of the Royal Guard. Just regular uniformed cops at the end of their workday, relaxing with their buddies or spouses. Amara notices there’s a lot more women in here than there were last time, which is great for them. They will stick out less.

‘This is everything!’ Maxwell yelps. ‘How come I’ve never been here? It’s so cute! Those peanut bowls are so retro, I’m into it.’

Amara and Drake look at each other and laugh. Oh, Maxwell. What a treasure. 

The six of them get a booth and Drake goes to the bar to order the first round. He knows Bruno at the bar, Amara remembers from last time, and Bruno makes strong drinks. 

‘Maybe I should tell Drake to just get me a tea,’ Bertrand says nervously. 

‘Bertrand! If you’re gonna sing, you need liquid courage!’ Hana says.

Bertrand shrugs and smiles. ‘Well, I suppose that’s true. I’m already two drinks in, though, maybe it’s too much.’

‘Live a little, babe,’ Liv says as she takes a flask out of her bra, handing it to a blushing Bertrand. ‘Have a sip. It won’t bite, it was just on my boob, not up my ass.’

Amara and Hana bite their lips in order not to laugh, as Bertrand reluctantly takes a swig from Liv’s boob flask.

‘I’m gonna go help Drake carry the drinks,’ Amara says.

She walks up to the bar, where Drake is chatting with Bruno while he’s making the drinks. ‘Hey ma’am,’ Bruno says. ‘I remember you. You sang Queen beautifully last time you were here with Drake.’

‘Oh hi Bruno! Nice to see you. It’s very nice of you to say, I was a little hammered, so I don’t remember much of that...performance.’

Bruno laughs, and serves Amara an extra shot of bourbon. ‘Bourbon, right? You’ll need it if you want to give another stellar performance. Lower your inhibitions.’

Amara laughs and downs the shot. ‘Thanks, Bruno. I’ll start a tab.’

He waves her off. ‘This one’s on the house. A friend of the Walkers’ is a friend of mine. And Drake already put his card down.’

‘Aw, thanks, Drake!’

They walk back to the table with drinks for everyone, a round a double shots of bourbon.

‘Ohh, guys, I’m tipsy just looking at these,’ Hana laughs.

‘Lee, stop it, or I’ll make you drink from my flask too,’ Liv threatens. Hana throws her hands up in defeat, and grabs a glass.

*****

A couple of rounds later, Maxwell gets up and goes up to the stage, under the cheers of a room full of cops. He does a little breakdance as he arrives on stage, provoking more excitement from the crowd. Amara gasps, nervous that he might fall on his face again. ‘Jeez, this man will break his neck just by being himself one day.’

Drake laughs, his hand around Amara’s shoulders. He’s feeling good. At home, even. He wishes his dad were here to see them all having fun together. He’d say, ‘See, Drake? You complain about the nobles, but you had to give some of them a chance. They’re not so bad.’

He looks at Amara. She’s smiling broadly, visibly happy to be here. Surprising in a way, since her past is still so painful. He was afraid, when they came here tonight, that the abundance of cops would trigger her anxiety again, but it seems like it’s doing just the opposite. Maybe she’s just enjoying the proximity to good memories, both from her past, and from one of their first dates. He enjoys seeing her like this. 

Suddenly, Maxwell clears his throat in the microphone.

‘Hello, you gorgeous bunch of cops!’ The crowd cheers. ‘I’m Max and tonight, I’m gonna sing an amazing, deep song that means a lot to me. Hit it!’

He gestures to Louis, who is manning the karaoke machine. Louis shrugs, and presses a button. Maxwell closes his eyes and clutches the microphone dramatically. As soon as the opening notes start to play, Drake rolls his eyes. No he didn’t.

I threw a wish in the well,

Don’t ask me I’ll never tell,

I look to you as it fell,

And now you’re in my way!

The gang cannot stop laughing at Maxwell’s dramatic rendering of Call Me Maybe. Amara actually has tears in her eyes. Before the chorus, Maxwell shouts, ‘Little Blossom, come join me!’ 

Amara, without missing a beat, plants a kiss on Drake’s cheek, and runs to the stage to join Max. He wraps his arm around her and they both sing in unison.

Hey, I just met you

And this is crazy!

But here’s my number

So call me maybe

Drake can’t wipe the smile from his face. Here she is, his beautiful girlfriend --he’s never said this word to her before, but tonight, when they can be normal and hang out with their friends in public, it feels right-- singing with their best friend and having the time of her life. She points at Drake as she sings the next words:

Before you came into my life 

I missed you so bad

I missed you so bad

I missed you so, so bad

Yeah, it’s a cheesy song, and the lyrics are so bad that they’re good, but he feels those lyrics on a deep level, which he would probably never confess to anyone unless he had a gun to his head. He definitely cannot remember one single good thing in his life before she showed up.

*****

Amara and Max get back to the booth, both out of breath and very smiley. Amara kisses Drake on the lips and asks, ‘Did you like it?’

He chuckles. ‘Yeah. You were amazing.’

Amara turns to Hana, ‘Babe, sing one! Come on, Max and I can even join you if you’d like!’ 

Hana giggles, visibly inebriated enough to say yes. ‘Alright, I suppose I can give it a try…’

She gets up and consults the list of songs that Louis is handing to her. Max turns to Drake and Bertrand, a self-satisfied look on his face. He says, ‘Gentlemen, I had an idea for a male-only number, are you with me, or are you not?’

Drake sighs, looks at Amara who is nodding furiously, and says to Maxwell, ‘Fine, I’m in.’

Bertrand, visibly altered by the contents of the boob flask, nods as well. ‘Sure, Maxxie, let’s do it. As long as I know the song.’

Max bites his lip. ‘Oh, you know the song.’

‘Shh, guys, Hana is on stage!’ Amara says excitedly.

Hana giggles into the microphone. ‘Hi all, I’m Hana. I’m not a good singer, so, I apologize in advance.’

Remember those walls I built

Well, baby, they're tumbling down

And they didn't even put up a fight

They didn't even make a sound

I found a way to let you win

But I never really had a doubt

Standing in the light of your halo

I got my angel now

Amara’s jaw drops. She knew that Hana was underselling herself by apologizing for her voice --after all, Hana is good at absolutely everything-- but she didn’t expect her to have the vocal range of Mariah Carey.  

‘Fuck, guys, I have chills,’ Max says, his mouth wide open as well.

Liv exhales loudly, ‘Holy shit, Lee’s got pipes.’

Everywhere I'm looking now

I'm surrounded by your embrace

Baby, I can see your halo

You know you're my saving grace

You're everything I need and more

It's written all over your face

Baby, I can feel your halo

Pray it won't fade away

For the rest of the song, the whole room is silent, taking it all in and enjoying the melodious sound of Hana’s voice. When she finishes the last note, there’s a pause, and a massive round of applause. The gang cheers and screams her name.

She comes back to her booth, blushing. ‘Thanks, guys, I hope I was ok…’

‘OK??? Are you kidding me, Lee?’ Amara says excitedly. ‘You were Beyoncé level! That was glorious!’

Hana blushes some more, as Bruno makes his way to the table, holding a round of martinis. ‘Guys, this is on the house. Miss Hana, you were incredible. I’m speechless.’

‘Oh please,’ Hana says shyly, ‘it was just a little song.’

*****

Drake goes up to the stage reluctantly, following Max closely, not knowing what’s awaiting him. At least, Bertrand is on the same boat as him. 

Maxwell whispers something in Louis’s ear, and the man immediately grins widely, which suggests to Drake that this is gonna be something else.

He recognizes the song immediately, and curses Maxwell under his breath. ‘Oh please, you love it,’ Max replies.

Drake looks to Amara, who’s looking more excited than she’s ever been, obviously recognizing the song as well. Maxwell gestures for Drake to open the song. He rolls his eyes.

You are my fire

The one desire

Believe when I say

I want it that way

He can’t believe he’s singing this in public, but judging from the look on Amara’s face, she’s thoroughly enjoying the moment, so to hell with this. He’s gonna have fun.

Then, the chorus comes, and all three of them sing in unison:

Tell me why

Ain't nothin' but a heartache

Tell me why

Ain't nothin' but a mistake

Tell me why

I never want to hear you say

I want it that way

Drake grabs the drink that Bruno is handing him, silently thanks his savior, and downs it in one go. He’s gonna need this liquid courage to finish the song.

*****

Amara can’t believe her eyes, or her ears, for that matter. Her Drake, willingly singing a Backstreet Boys song. If they weren’t in public, she’d jump his bones right now. But also, the very fact that he went with Maxwell’s wild suggestion without questioning it shows a lot of growth on Drake’s part. The Drake who came to NYC would NOT have gone for a boy band karaoke song. 

She gets up and greets the three guys as they get off the stage. Drake opens his arms to her, and she wraps him in a warm hug. ‘That was hot,’ she whispers in his ear.

‘Oh, was it?’ he chuckles. 

She nods. Now, a very tall and very muscular uniformed cop is starting to sing Rihanna’s We Found Love, and people are beginning to dance. Amara takes Drake’s hand and guides him to the makeshift dancefloor, where they grind on each other for a while, completely forgetting about the crowd around them. They don’t even notice that the music has changed, now a female cop has started to sing a Kings of Leon song. They keep dancing closer and closer to each other, Amara’s body pressed against Drake, and his hands on her hips, drawing her closer. Their foreheads rest against each other, as they try not to kiss, but the intimate position they are in leaves very little to the imagination.  

He whispers, ‘You’re so fucking sexy.’ 

She runs her hands on his chest, then down on his stomach, almost reaching below his belt. She smirks.

‘Don’t tempt me, Suarez,’ he chuckles.

She’s aching to kiss him. No one is watching them, everyone is dancing to the music, and looking at the successive performers. ‘I want you,’ she whispers in his ear. ‘I don’t know that I can wait until we’re back at Ramsford.’

He bites his lip, his breath ragged. She knows he wants her too. ‘Fuck, Suarez, you make me so hard.’

She takes his hand and leads him to the corner where the bathrooms are. 

‘Are you nuts?’ he laughs. ‘That’s a public restroom. Not a palace bathroom…’

She laughs and whispers, ‘We just won’t touch anything. Meet me in a minute.’

She gets in, her heart racing. She looks at her reflection in the mirror, notices that her eye makeup is smudged, in a way that makes it look like a smokey eye. Drake gets in, and locks the door behind them. Without a word, he places himself behind Amara, both of them facing the mirror. He throws his arms around her waist, and one of his hands reaches under her dress, and in her panties. He quickly finds her clit, and draws circles around it with his thumb. She gasps, her breath now uneven. She turns her head just enough to capture Drake’s lips in hers, kissing him more and more deeply as his fingers explore her soaking wet folds. 

With her right hand, she reaches behind her, to undo his belt, and she sets his throbbing cock free. She wipes off his precum with her finger and rubs his length up and down, making him moan. He slides one more finger inside her, and she can’t wait any longer, she needs him inside her again. She shimmies out of her panties, and he lifts up her dress. She bends over a bit more, enough for Drake to find her entrance. He teases it with his cock, but her low groans don’t leave any doubt: she can’t wait. He needs to fuck her now. He enters her completely, making her gasp for air. She whispers, ‘Fuck me hard.’ He obliges. His thumb still on her clit, stroking it, caressing it, he fucks her harder and harder, deeper and deeper. Her walls contract around his cock, they pulsate, she can’t handle it anymore, she’s going to come. She hopes she can stay silent enough. His fingers are driving her crazy, her clit is throbbing under Drake’s hand. She feels his dick getting harder and harder inside her, and his breath is getting quicker against her neck. He kisses her ear a bit more urgently. She needs to try to hold on, she wants to come with him. She hopes he comes soon, she’s about to burst. 

‘Amara…’ he whispers, his voice raspy. It sends her over the edge. Her body gives in, her knees buckle, she comes for him so hard, she knows he can feel it, her walls contracting all around him. He moans long and hard, and she feels him fill her with his cum. They both catch their breath. 

‘Oh my God…’ she whispers. ‘That was… I’m still dizzy.’

‘I can’t breathe,’ he chuckles. ‘Wow. I should sing to you more often…’

*****

When they come back to the table, no one is paying attention to them, Hana, Bertrand and Maxwell being deep in a very giggly conversation. Only LIv is looking at them with a smirk on her face. ‘Did you horndogs just fuck in the bathroom?’ she asks. 

Amara rolls her eyes. ‘Ew, Liv, who do you take us for? A bathroom in a cop bar? That’s insane.’

‘Yeah, Nevrakis,’ Drake chimes in, ‘we may be commoners, but we’re not peasants.’

Liv snorts. ‘You’re not actors either. You’re both very bad liars. I hope you washed your hands. Suarez, I have a mission for you.’

‘Oh?’ Amara says.

‘I’ve been told by Little Beaumont that if I don’t sing a song, I will be, and I quote, ‘a stupid ass loser’. As much as I don’t care what he thinks, I think it could be fun. Do you want to--’ she wrings her hands together, visibly in the position of asking for a favor for the first time of her life, ‘do you want to sing one with me?’

Amara squeals, ‘Yes! Yes, Liv, I’ll sing with you!’

‘Alright, calm your tits,’ Olivia says with a dismissive hand gesture, ‘I’m not asking you to have a quickie in the bathroom, it’s just one song.’

‘Charming,’ Amara replies. ‘Got a suggestion for the title?’

‘Yeah. I already talked to Louis over there. Let’s go!’

They hop on stage, Olivia looking fierce in her tight black pants, high heels and bright red blouse. Amara can’t help but feel like a teletubby next to her, in her bright yellow dress. She bursts out laughing when she realizes which song Liv has chosen. Soo off-brand, and yet so perfect.

Humidity’s rising, barometer's getting low 

According to all sources, the street's the place to go 

'Cause tonight for the first time 

Just about half-past ten 

For the first time in history

It's gonna start raining men 

It's raining men, hallelujah, it's raining men, amen

I'm gonna go out to run and let myself get

Absolutely soaking wet

It's raining men, hallelujah

It's raining men, every specimen

Tall, blonde, dark and lean

Rough and tough and strong and mean

Amara looks at the crowd, and sees that the rest of the gang is standing up now, dancing to the rhythm. She winks at Drake.

*****

‘Aaaah, it was so FUN!’ Maxwell yells as he flops onto the couch, back at Ramsford. ‘That was such a good idea, Amara and Hana! We need to do it again.’

Liv takes off her heels and rubs her feet. ‘I’m as surprised as you guys, but believe it or not, I had a lot of fun! I can’t believe that Big Beaumont over here sang Backstreet Boys like a fucking champ!’ she says as she pats Bertrand’s back. 

‘Ha!’ he says, ‘I blame your um… bosom flask, as you say. I’m afraid I’m a tad tipsy. I should put myself to bed. Ladies and gents, it was grand. Thank you for including me tonight, it was a breath of fresh air. I will see you all tomorrow for breakfast.’

Everyone wishes him a good night and he disappears up the stairs. As soon as he’s out of earshot, Amara whispers, ‘Did he just say ‘bosom’?’

Drake chuckles. ‘Nevrakis, how does it feel to have Bertrand talk about your bosom?’

She shrugs, ‘Everyone talks about my bosom, if you must know. It’s a glorious bosom. Not as glorious as Suarez’s, of course, but I do what I can.’

Amara fake curtsies, ‘I am humbled, Lady Nevrakis.’

Maxwell opens a small bottle of sparkling water. ‘So, now that we’re in private… are you gonna tell us everything, Olivia?’

Liv raises an eyebrow. ‘What do you mean?’

Max rolls his eyes. ‘Come on. We saw you on your phone all day. You were actually--’ he whispers, ‘smiling.’ He fake gasps.

Liv sighs. ‘You guys are the fucking worst. No one can have a private life around here, huh? Did you blab, Suarez?’

Amara shakes her head as fast as she can, afraid that Liv is packing some hidden weapons somewhere, near her flask or in her hair. ‘No! I promise I didn’t blab!’

‘It’s not that hard to figure it out,’ Max adds. ‘You’ve never been in a better mood and you’re texting all day. Amara is not the only one with detective skills, you know! Call me Agent Breakdance!’

Liv snorts. ‘I’ll call you Agent Break Your Nose, that’ll be more on brand.’ She takes a sip of water. ‘Alright, you bitches, you win. I was texting someone all day, and I went on a date on Monday night. Happy?’

Hana smiles broadly. ‘It’s wonderful, Olivia! Is he nice?’

Olivia makes a disgusted face. ‘Nice? That’s gross. He’s sexy, and fun, and he respects me.’

‘Well that’s the whole package, then,’ Amara says, stroking Drake’s hair, as he’s lying down on her lap, both snuggled on the couch.

‘Tell us who he is, Liv!’ Max pleads. ‘I’ll tell you anything you want in return. I’ll tell you everything there is to know about me.’

‘Beaumont,’ she says solemnly, ‘I want to know absolutely nothing about you.’ She takes another sip, visibly pleased with herself for the suspense she’s creating, blissfully unaware that everyone knows who he is. ‘Alright, it’s Domvallier.’

Max feigns surprise. ‘Ohhhh, I love that for you! And he’s hot as fuck.’

‘Yes, Liv,’ Hana chimes in, ‘he’s a very handsome man, and very stylish!’

Olivia nods, a small smile on her lips. ‘I may actually like him, so you clowns better not ruin it for me, ok?’

Max puts a hand on his chest. ‘Liv, we would never! Our lips are sealed. Plus, all our friends are in this very room, so we have no one else to tell.’

Drake sighs, and makes eye contact with Amara. He wonders whether he should tell Liv that Liam knows about the two of them. He doesn’t want to ruin the night. He wonders what it would accomplish to tell her. Probably nothing, right? But the five of them have made a point of being honest with one another, and that’s crucial. He can’t lose her trust, not now. 

‘Liv, I gotta tell you something,’ he says. Amara’s eyes catch his, and she nods at him. He continues. ‘I hope you don’t freak out. But um… I think you deserve to have all the elements.’

Liv suddenly starts frowning, her uncharacteristic smile vanished. ‘What?’ she barks. ‘What is it?’

Drake sits up. ‘I saw Liam Monday night, he was back from the beach. He had texted you, remember?’

Liv’s face falls. ‘Yeah, I got a text from him asking if I want to meet him at the beach at midnight. I never responded, though.’

‘Well,’ Drake pursues, ‘He waited for you there anyways. He saw you and Rashad, and he knows there’s something between you two. He was very upset, and last I heard, he wanted to have a conversation with you to discuss what you want. He seemed to want to make a grand gesture, like an apology for taking you for granted.’

Liv purses her lips, visibly angry. ‘Oh, so Prince Liam wants to apologize, and as always, you’re his little lapdog, huh? His wingman? Like when you broke into Suarez’s room to drop off Liam’s note?’

Amara shakes her head, ‘Liv, that’s not what he’s saying. And that note was ages ago, before anything happened between us--’

‘Stop,’ Liv says. ‘Liam can give me any amount of attention he wants, I’m done with his pathetic ass. I know you fucking love him, Walker, and you think he’s the shit, but let me tell you, he’s never had any goddamn respect for me and my feelings, until he saw me exchanging sexts with another man.’ She stops and catches her breath. She suddenly looks very calm, as if she had just solved her own dilemma.

Drake puts his hands up. ‘I agree with you, Liv. I wasn’t pushing Liam onto you, I promise. Fuck, I think he’s been horrible to you, very manipulative, and you deserve so much better.’

‘Agreed,’ Liv spits. ‘I deserve the world. Liam is willing to give me what? A pity fuck and a dozen roses? Pathetic.’

‘Yeah!’ Max says angrily, obviously wanting to be part of the discussion. ‘Get it, girl!’

Drake nods, ‘Hey, I truly wasn’t telling you that you should be with Liam. I think Rashad is a very cool dude, and I can see the two of you getting along. Like you said, he respects you, and that’s what matters. Please, Nevrakis, don’t shoot the messenger. I was just telling you what I know, so you’re not blindsided when Liam comes to talk to you.’

Olivia nods angrily, visibly calming down a bit. ‘Yeah. I guess it’s good to know.’

Amara chimes in, ‘It doesn’t change the fact that Rashad is good for you. It’s unfortunate that Liam saw you, but it doesn’t change anything at the end of the day. That’s not what Drake meant at all. He was just giving you a heads up.’

Liv, still frowning, nods. ‘Ok. Fine. Sorry. I didn’t mean to snap. I’m just sick of Liam getting what he wants. It’s too little, too late. If he asks me, I’ll tell him the truth. I have no idea if Rashad and I are going anywhere, but he’s making me feel more appreciated than Liam ever has.’

Drake smiles and takes Amara’s hand, relieved that she understood him and what he was trying to do. He doesn’t blame Liv for snapping, though. He used to be what she said: Liam’s wingman whatever happened. Now, in the wake of finding out how forceful he could be, like he was with Amara, and how dismissive he was with Liv, he doesn’t know if he can ever really be in Liam’s corner again. Not like before, anyways. 

Hana clears her throat and speaks the words of wisdom: ‘How about we all get some rest, huh? Olivia, we’re all very happy you’ve found someone you feel comfortable with, and none of us disagree with you being upfront with Liam. We all want you to be happy. Now go to bed and turn off your phone.’

Liv snorts, ‘Yes, mom.’

*****

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Thank you for your encouragements, everyone! Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist :)

[oh-theatre]

Sycamore High: There are Things... (Chapter 33)

A/N: Hey write other characters, ok but consider I write Ted and Tommy, fair enough. ALSO, YES IM SETTING UP A SEQUEL IT WILL TAKE PLACE DURING THEIR SENIOR YEAR... that just means we won't be seeing them do Starship, but it will be mentioned

summary: Tommy's parents are home...

words: 4,459

warnings: homophobia, swearing, kissing, negative thoughts, mentions of death, crying,

Ao3 Link

“What?!” The class cried in unison. Chad held up his hands defensively, shushing them.

“They can't just cancel the musicals!” Ted called, Chad eyed him, he sank back into the chair feeling the heat rise in his face. Paul giggled patting his shoulder.

“They aren't...canceling them perse” Chad explains, “they are just spreading them out between the next two years. So...we will do Starship next year and Falsettos the year after that” He informs, the class groans once more. “Sorry guys” He finished just as the bell rings. “Don't forget the musical ends soon so if you haven't seen it!” He shouts. Ted waves goodbye before leaning into Paul.

“I haven't seen the musical, we should go see it” He whispers, Pauls smirks before nodding “I heard the lead sucks” Charlotte swats his arm glaring.

“I heard that the one guy who plays his brother is awful!” Emma mimics Charlotte's actions, dummies. “But yes we should see it, when are you free?” Paul says pulling out his phone, he opens his calendar. Emma rolls her eyes, Bill starts walking faster now.

“Oh, not until next month, you?” Ted responds as they make their way into the halls. Paul checks his calendar once more ignoring the groans coming from the girls.

“Shame, me too” Paul shrugs “Well squiddy doo! Guess we won't be seeing the musical”

“Indubiously” Ted replies, Bill turns eyeing him. He grins wildly at his smaller friend, a look of pride. Bill purses his lips, afraid his answer won't satisfy.

“Nope, still not the correct usage” Bill responds, Ted snaps his fingers before sighing. “You'll get it one day” Bill assures, Ted fakes a sullen look before laughing. “Anyway, can you believe it's closing soon? And then its winter break” Bill exclaims. They sit at their lunch table, Tommy joins soon after, receiving a quick kiss from Ted.

“I know!” Tommy smiles, he opens his lunch munching down quite quickly “I'm excited for Christmas! And snow! And cookies! And presents!” Ted laughs, Bill nods, Tommy smiles at the rest of the group.

“We don't celebrate Christmas but I am excited for snow” Bill adds, Tommy smiles politely, he covers his mouth speaking through his food.

“Do you celebrate anything?” He shakes his head “Sorry that sounded rude-

“No you're fine, it's a fair question,” Bill interjects, Ted and Paul listen as they eat their own food. “I don't, my dad and I just enjoy the time off” Tommy smiles, clearly content with the answer. He turns to Emma who raises an eyebrow before sighing.

“Christmas T” Emma says, she smiles at him. She can’t be annoyed, not at his sweet curious face. He giggles before turning to Paul, he thinks for a moment.

“Same” He responds, Tommy looks expectantly to Charlotte, she smiles. He might know a lot about each of his friends, but there's still more he can learn.

“I don't celebrate anything either but me and my mom have our own holiday! We just bake and make crafts” Charlotte explains, Emma nods. Tommy squeals, he looks to Ted finally who shies away from answering. Tommy kept staring, Ted slumps his shoulders pouting.

“I don't know,” he admitted, Tommy softened, he slid his hand into Teds under the table “I would usually hang out at Paul or Bills, my parents never did anything. I think I'm supposed to celebrate Christmas, but I don't know what my dads are going to do” He finishes, Tommy squeezes his hand reassuringly, he felt a sense of pride at the ease of the word ‘dads’ sliding so easily off his boyfriend's tongue. “No, it's ok” Ted glances over at Paul and Bill “I have a lot of fond memories with these two losers” They chuckled. Tommy buzzed kissing him softly on the cheek. He felt a light buzz in his pocket, excusing himself from the group.

Mama

Mama: Tommy, we are returning home tonight. We hope to see you readily dressed, homework complete and ready for dinner.

Tommy bounced, his parents were coming home. And they wanted to have dinner out with him! He glanced back at the group, his eyes landing on Ted. Should he invite Ted? His Grammy would be there, it wouldn't be so bad...would it? Maybe they could see his play!

Tommy: Grammy and I will be ready! Could I invite a friend?

Though he hated writing it like such, but over text was really not how he’d like to reveal anything.

Mama: I suppose so, I have a meeting, do not text me anymore.

Love you too Mom, He sighed, he shoved the phone back into his pocket, making his way back to the group. Ted smiled at him, he took this as an invitation to lean on Ted's shoulder, Ted did not mind.

“You alright gumdrop?” Ted whispers into Tommy's hair. Tommy feels a chill run down his spine, he nods.

“Wanna have dinner with me tonight?” Tommy asks, Ted furrows his brows “Its with my parents and Grammy” He informs, Ted sucks in a sharp breath.

“Your parents…?” Ted cautions, from what he knew and heard they were not Ted's favorite people at the moment. But...who doesn't like Raina Sweet? Tommy nods, yawning suddenly. “Alright, but only because I like your grandma” Tommy sat up slapping Ted's arm playfully

“Hey! What about me?” He pouts. Ted strokes his chin for a moment, before shrugging.

“What about you?” He teases, Tommy gasped, he leans in kissing Ted.

“How dare you” He whispers up against his lips. Ted kisses back but pulls away soon after much to Tommy's disappointment, he looks to his food. Examining the remains of the packed lunch his fathers had packed for him. An apple, some veggie chips, and a salad. An idea lit up in Ted's mind and he turned back to Tommy, inspiration glazing his eyes.

“Really? Right in front of my salad?” He whines, Tommy laughs. They pull away as Ted rejoins the conversation picking at his last bits of food. Dinner, with my parents, and grandma, He looks over at Ted smiling and laughing along with the group, and my boyfriend. And it's going to be Christmas soon!

~~~

“I don't know” Tommy admits, Paul and Bill share a glance.

“Well it has to be a surprise,” Paul says, Bill nods. Tommy goes to speak but they are on a roll now. “Ice cream cake”

“Salty foods, lots of chips” Bill adds, Paul snaps his fingers. Tommy backs further into the corner. “Karaoke maybe? Or bowling” Bill wonders

“Maybe we c-”

“There has to be some kind of live music” Paul notes, Tommy huddles further. He doesn't like being interrupted but he hates confrontation. And honestly? He felt a little out of his league, the pair continued to spout ideas off of each other. They were aware that Tommy was there, but they weren't talking at or with him. The ideas piled on, one after another. Color schemes, foods, things that had worked in the past. Tommy felt overwhelmed, he barely understood most of their suggestions in context. His neck hurt from furiously trying to keep up until finally, he couldn't take the incessant back and forth.

“Stop! If you two are so adamant about what ted wants” he glares at them, it's their turn to remain silent, to watch the be-speckled boy fearful “Then you plan his birthday party!” his voice hitches, he feels heat rise throughout him, as his eyes threaten soft tears. “Because clearly, I don't know anything.” They stare, eyes softening “Excuse me” he mumbles, pushing past them, disappearing back into the halls. Paul and Bill watch him go before turning to each other

“I think that went pretty well” Paul chirped, Bill thought for a moment but ultimately agreed. “I was thinking, a night out bowling, but we rent out the entire place” Paul suggests, Bill lights up.

“That’s wonderful! The entire cast can be there, except Sam probably” Bill decides, Paul nods eyes wide. They continue talking down the hall suggesting idea after idea.

~~~

“And then he just gave us total control!” Paul chimes, Emma stops as they walk home. Bill and Charlotte following behind. Much to Paul’s disappointment, Emma let’s go of his hand, Charlotte joins her. “What..?”

“You guys! That was not nice” she chides, they share a confused glance, Charlotte folds her arms “You have to include him”

“But he let us, he told us that we could do it” Paul argues, Emma sighs rubbing the beige of her nose. Bill, though being incredibly smart, was being incredibly clueless.

“Yeah, and we know what to do. We’ve been planning each other’s parties for years” Bill adds, Emma understood this. Charlotte and she had always done the same, but things change.

“So I’m not allowed to help Bill and Ted plan your birthday?” She asks, Paul furrows his brows confused once more. “Look, I know that it’s always been the three amigos but things change. You have to accept that Tommy is a big part of Ted’s life now.” She pokes Paul’s chest “You have to include him because he might not know small things here and there, but neither do I! There’s loads I still don’t know about you, Matthews. But Ted loves Tommy, vice versa, and he should be apart of the process” Emma explains, Charlotte's nods approvingly. “Plus this way he gets to learn more about Ted, and isn’t that a fun idea. It sounds stupid but I would give anything to spend two hours with Bill and Ted and learn more about you from and friends perspective” Bill sighs, he has a lot he would say.

“You make some excellent points” Paul notes, he extends his hand out to her, she hesitates before taking it. “kiss?” He asks softly

“Only if you call Tommy and apologize,” Emma says, she perks up “You can call him when we get to my house,” Paul nods. The group was spending the evening at Emma’s for studying, but also just to be there. Charlotte and Paul wouldn’t tell them why, but she needed people right now. ”Or since he’s coming over you can tell him in person, either one, no kisses until you do” she decides, Bill and Charlotte chuckle behind them as Paul pouts. “Come on, it's getting cold and I'm not wearing the right clothes for that” She drags him along, followed briskly by Bill and Charlotte. The walk isn't too long and they reach Emma’s house quickly. She opens the door calling out for her mother or father, none of which reply.

“House to yourself?” Charlotte inquires, placing the jackets neatly on the rack. She had been here many a time, it was practically her second home. Emma nods turning on the lights “Do we wanna set up here, or up in your room?” Charlotte asks, putting her bag down. Emma looks around deciding her room might be too cramped.

“Here is fine” So they gather around the coffee table setting up on the couches, floor, and chairs. Emma grabs some chips and cut up fruit and brings it. She grabs everyone a drink before taking her place on the couch, next to Bill. “Hey B, what time do the terrible T’s get here?” Emma asks, Charlotte smiles, Paul snickers. Bill puts down the notebook he was working on checking his watch.

“Should be here soon” He responds “Slight traffic, oh! And they have to leave early, dinner with Tommy's parents or something” Bil adds, Paul, nods curious. Emma scrunches her eyebrows, pursing her lips. She doesn't want to say anything but alas.

“Tommy's parents? As in the parents who didn't come to the play? As in the ones who, from what Ted has told us, isn't Tommys biggest supporter?”

“Those are the ones!” Ted swings the door open followed by a shy Tommy. He throws his bag down joining the group, Charlotte gives him a small wave. Emma darts her eyes away from Tommy, feeling her face heat up. Ted sits on the floor next to Paul, setting his things up on the coffee table. Tommy joins soon after, sitting politely in the chair behind him. “What are we studying?” Ted asks, Paul shows him the notebook and they continue on their own. Emma glances at Tommy. He sits tensely in the chair, staring the ground.

“I didn't mean anything, Tommy...I'm sorry” She mumbles, Tommy perks up, a smile crossing his face.

“Oh don't worry! I understand they aren't that bad though” He explains, Emma smiles before nodding. They return to their work a group conversation beginning, Tommy kicks Ted softly getting his attention. Ted turns looking up.

“Yes?” He asks forcing  smile, Tommy giggles back.

“Whatcha working on?” Ted looks back at his work showing him the notebook. Tommy nods writing something down “Ok when you're done with that, want to work on our ceramics project?” Ted nods turning back to his work. Charlotte and Tommy start-up an enthusiastic conversation, Emma focuses on Paul now. She follows Tommy's lead, balling up a small piece of paper aiming for him. He jumps, confusion riddling his face, he looks towards Emma. She gestures her head towards Tommy, he sighs mouthing the word ‘now?’. Emma nods, he grumbles.

“Heeeeeey Tommy” Paul starts, everyone pauses looking at him. That doesn't make his task any easier “I was wondering If I could talk to you…in private?” His voice is slow and forced. Ted glances between them before smirking.

“Please don't make out with my boyfriend Paul, I really like him” Ted mocks, Emma and Charlotte laugh. Tommy flicks the back of his head, as Paul flushes bright red.

“Yeah, Paul don’t do that, I like you too, it’d be a shame to have to find another boyfriend” Emma comments barely looking up from her paper. Paul groans, Emma and Ted share an air high five.

“Why do you assume I want to make out with him? What if he wants to make out with me?” Paul asks defensively, Ted purses his lips, but it doesn't help. The group erupts into laughter, knocking over supplies and school stuff.

“You're a riot Paul” Ted recovers shaking his head. He continues writing in his notebook, looking over his material. Paul pleads at Tommy who nods resolved, he leans forward kissing Ted on the forehead before following Paul out of the room. After a swift kick from Charlotte, Bill bounces up following them. Ted eyes the girls, who just smile. “Um...ok?” He says, he looks between them but nothing comes of it. The three of them continue working, Ted occasionally glances up at where the three boys had gone. After a while they return, their faces unreadable.

“Wow you were not wrong, Tommy is a good kisser” Paul teases, taking his place next to Ted. He clutches his pencil tightly, glaring at his friend. Emma snickers, but a pit of fear does form in the very bottom of her stomach.

“Not funneh!” He mocks, Paul smirks. Tommy and Bill roll their eyes returning to their own work. Emma and Paul have one of their famous telekinetic conversations.

“How did it go?” Emma asks raising her brows at him

“Mac and Cheese” He smiles back. Emma groans, ok so not so famous. The group continues working, trading works, grouping up, getting slightly off-topic sometimes. It started getting dark and the energy of the room had slowed, Charlotte had finished most of her work and was helping Paul. Bill and Emma were working on their Health homework. Tommy was doing his best to help a very tired Ted with his own homework. The doorbell rang causing them to jump. Tommy begins packing up his stuff, Ted follows.

“That would be us” Ted informs, He zips up his bag standing. “Dad is picking us up and dropping us off at the restaurant..” Tommy nods. Charlotte gives them both quick hugs, and after a chorus of farewells, the pair leaves. The rest of the night goes smoothly, with everyone leaving one by one. Bill goes first, promptly followed by Paul and finally Charlotte.

~~~

“Is it hot in here, am I sweating? Feel my forehead” Ted rushes shoving his hot face into Tommy's eyesight. Tommy chuckles pushing him back slightly. He frantically wipes his head, watching droplets of sweat flying through the car. Tommy shoves down a gag, before taking his admittedly sweaty hands.

“Dearest, I am not feeling your head,” He tells him, Ted nods.

“Fair enough,” He says understandably. Tommy smiles, squeezing his boyfriends hands gently.

“You'll be ok, they're not that mean” Tommy reassures, the car stops. Tommy looks to the front seat, Chad smiles politely waving goodbye as the boys get out of the car. Tommy forgot how extravagant his parents could be. The restaurant looked like a palace from the outside, shining with life, music flooding through the doors. A red carpet placed neatly in front of the main entrance, two guards stood on either the golden cord. Ted took Tommy's hand, leading him up to them. Once they assured them they had reservations they walked in, if you thought the outside was beautiful. Tommy could see Ted's jaw drop as they stepped into the ballroom. High ceilings decorated with various religious paintings, chandeliers hung from everywhere they could fit. Tables were placed neatly around, people buzzing with life in the golden room. The carpet was soft, detailed with small flowers. Waiters dances left and right serving everyone, people laughed and cheered. Tommy sighed, grabbing Ted's hand leading him over to where his parents were. Ted marveled as Tommy dragged him along, his eyes glazing over with every new detail he noticed.

“Tommy dear!” Raina squealed standing from her chair embracing the young boy. Ted returned his attention to the situation. Raina hugged him as well before taking her seat. Tommy's parents didn't stand, in fact, they made no notice of him until he sat down and they looked up from their phones.

“Oh, I thought you were the waiter, hello son” Tommy's father greeted, he shut off his phone pacing it delicately on the desk. Ted sat in the middle of Raina and Tommy, he felt Tommy grab his hand hidden under the table. He looked up to find Tommy forcing a polite smile, he sighed sadly, tonight was going to be rough. Who Ted presumed was Tommy's mother looked up, following her husband's example. Tommy smiled at them.

“You look ridiculous, stop slouching and adjust your glasses” His mother commented, Tommy did just that, his smile disappearing. Ted squeezed harder, releasing after receiving a quick pained glance from Tommy. He didn't mean to, but everything coming out of their mouths was not helping Ted's previous judgments about them. Raina cleared her throat, smiling sweetly at Ted. “Who is this?” His mother asked, eyeing Ted finally. His father did the same, Ted squirmed in his chair as their intent eyes examined him. Tommy began picking at his chair, avoiding their gaze. Ted took a breath before sitting up.

“I'm his friend” He stated, Tommy looked down ashamed. “Ted Hidgens” he introduced, reaching his hand across the table. Tommy's mother shook it, followed by his father. Their expressions remained the same.

“I'm Teagen and this is Tommy's father Eric” His mother greeted, he nodded giving a polite smile. Maybe I'm making progress…

“Oh Teagan dear, Tommy was just wonderful in the show” Raina burts, Teagan looked to her mother, her face questionable. “Oh and Ted here is in it too! They were both wonderful, they still have a few shows left you should go seem them” She suggested, the boys look gratefully at her. Teagan shook her head.

“I already told you and Tommy that I wasn't available” Eric nodded, looking over his menu. “How is school going?” She asked turning back towards Tommy. He swallowed, looking up slightly. His mouth moved, as he went over his grades and classes in his head.

“I have all A’s in my studies” He informed, hoping his answer proved satisfactory. Ted smiled at him, he felt a sense of pride wash over him, Tommy was really smart. Eric let out a small breath, Ted waited for their congratulations or celebration but they simply sat. Tommy himself looked almost hopeful, but he knew better.

“No girlfriend yet?” Eric moved on, Ted blinked wondering if he really just heard that. Tommy slumped, the wishfulness draining out of him. His father looked up and gestured “What? Am I not allowed to ask? We were hoping you would bring your girlfriend tonight…” He looked over at Ted “Not some friend”. Tommy swore he could feel himself shrink. Ted was fuming now, he grabbed onto the menu hoping for a distraction.

“Dad, I've told you a million times” Tommy began, his words were tired “I dont...like girls in that way” He glanced awkwardly at Ted. Ted gave him a loving smile from behind the menu, if that's what the night needed to be successful, hidden glances and stolen smiles, then so be it. Teagan scoffed, sipping her water. Ted looked over at Raina who might be fuming harder then he was.

“So Ted, what about you?” Eric asked he lowered his menu folding his arms out in front of him. Ted folded his own menu, staring awkwardly at him. “How is your school life? Any girlfriends?”

“Uh...I'm doing ok…” He admitted, he wasn't the best student but he managed “An A, mostly B’s, maybe one C” He recounted, Teagan set her cup down looking as though she had seen a ghost. Eric shook his head, biting his lips. He carried on, he had a lot to say, Tommy waited. No sir, I have no girlfriends…” I mean, I'm not lying. Ted wished he had bitten his tongue, just stopped talking, but alas the boy was stubborn all the same. “I do have a boyfriend though” Tommy's eyes grew wide, Eric choked back his drink.

“What kind of parents let you fail so miserably,” Eric asked, his question wasn't malicious (In that sense, it was absolutely cruel) But it was a genuine question. Ted tried his hardest not to yell, Tommy met his hand once more under the table rubbing his comfortingly. “Your mother is clearly a failure, and your father is clearly not strict enough” He was plenty strict, Ted thought. Tommy let out a soft gasp.

“Dad stop!” He whispered over the table. Eric shrugged, but he wasn't done. Though afraid by Ted's revelation, and relieved he hadn't mentioned Tommy's name, he wasn't going to play along.  

“I guess your parents just let you do whatever you want huh? Your mom buys you ice cream’ Stop “Gives you hugs whenever you do something even slightly right” Stop...Ted kept his eyes fixated on Eric, Tommy looked fearful “Does she hold you when you're sad?” Ted shut his eyes, Eric chuckled clearly victorious. “What a failure of a mother” Teagan nodded in agreement.

“Stop it!” Tommy burst, Ted looked up at him. “You are monsters!” His voice was still quiet but he was angry, Ted felt Raina put a comforting arm around him. “Ted's mother died! And she was a wonderful woman, who supported her son no matter what!” Eric and Teagan watched him horrified “And you knew this because I told you but because you refuse to listen to a word that comes out of my mouth…” He trails off, small tears fall from his face. Ted takes his hand squeezing it, Tommy nods gratefully, and so so sorry. “And Ted is wonderful, he's being raised by two amazing men-” Teagan gasps slightly as if the information could kill her. “That's right mom, surprise two men can be a relationship! Oh but you know what, maybe you were right” He says pondering mockingly, he feels overwhelmed by everything crashing down on him, Ted watches fearfully. “I mean maybe parents who are gay will turn their kids gay” Ted couldn't help but snicker, he clasps a hand over his mouth knowing exactly where this was going. “Ted's bisexual mom! Oh and fun fact, I'm the boyfriend, ooo! Plot twist” Teagans eyes grew wide, her face reaching a new level of pale, as though she might faint “Or maybe your wrong because I like boys mom and you aren't gay are you? So if anyone has failed as parents here it's you two” he accuses, Eric's eyes release an uncontrollable amount of fury. Raina claps her hands together smiling proudly at her grandson.

Or at least that's what Tommy wishes he would have said. But instead he watched as Ted suffered silently, too scared to move and all he did was hold his hand.

“Guys, can we stop please?” He asked softly, Ted remained still, it hurt Tommy the most. He wasn't expecting Tommy to say anything or do anything. Ted was willing to sit there and be torn apart, bit by bit, in the hopes of preserving any slimmer of a relationship between Tommy and his parents. And Tommy was letting him, all he did was cowardly ask them to stop.

“You will absolutely stop” Raina seethed, the group turned to her, she had her eyes fixated on Eric and Teage, a fit of familiar anger burning through her. “You haven't seen your son in months, you don't see his show, you don't recognize his intelligence, you tear down his lovely friend, insulting his mother who has passed away and has the nerve to insult him without giving him a chance to respond?” Ted feels his stomach seize as the parents look at him. He thinks he almost sees them soften. “I have had it, you will either learn to behave like proper adults and parents or I am walking out of this restaurant, taking these two with me and we will get some ice cream” She proposes, Tommy and Ted hope she can their grateful looks. Teagan and Eric stay silent, shocked by her outburst but too stubborn to even try.

“Fine take them, what do I care?” Teagan waved them off.

“Yes, I don't think I want to eat dinner with…” He eyed Ted, as though he were an infectious disease “That” That was correct, Tommy had enough. He slammed down his menu standing up, Raina followed, Ted did the same. They began to make their way out but Tommy couldn't do it, not yet. He walked back over, looked at his parents in their eyes.

“Teds my boyfriend,” He told them, he turned without giving them a chance to respond. Proudly taking Ted's hand, they walked out of the restaurant. Instantly, regret and shame and fear-filled Tommy.

What have I done?

[sakuradormitory]

Understanding

I finished and edited another old project: 50 sentences about Sorata and Ryuunosuke this time! I’m hoping to do the same with a few more old projects next year.

You can read it on AO3 or FF.net, or down below!

1. Restless

“There's five concepts here, six if you count last one as two potential ideas-—” Sorata thumps down the pile of papers on top of Ryuunosuke's desk, and looks at him intently “-—I want your honest opinions on them, go ahead and rip them to shreds if you must, just help me make them better, alright?”

2. Understanding

“I just don't understand him,” as he tosses his phone aside, Sorata mutters to himself — he doesn't really care to, either (at least, not quite yet).

3. Right

“It just doesn't sit right with me, living with someone who I've only met face to face once,” Sorata argues,  raising his hand to knock on Room 101 even as Jin and Chihiro try to talk him out of it.

4. Hope

“Akasaka...” Sorata peeks around the door hopefully, “Jin-san and Misaki-senpai took over my room playing games, mind if I hide here for a while?”

5. Hinder

“You're only holding yourself back with that kind of attitude,” Ryuunosuke starts, but Sorata doesn't want to hear that from him, of all people.

6. Kite

Rita takes them up to Hampstead Heath where she and Mashiro used to fly kites; Sorata isn't expecting it to be quite so much fun until his and Ryuunosuke's kite outfly the others by a considerable height.

7. Closed

“Misaki-senpai said you play games too, want to join us—” Sorata winces at the sharp sound of the closing door.

8. Confuse

“You thought I was a ghost?” Ryuunosuke wrinkles his nose, apparently confused, “really, Kanda?”

9. Presence

“Well, you didn't exactly radiate a comforting presence!”

10. Rough

Sorata pats the space on their sofa next to him as Ryuunosuke flops down with a groan, “let me guess, the meeting ran overtime again?”

11. Edible

Ryuunosuke defends his attempt at cooking dinner as both edible and nutritious, which is really all that defines food, when you think about it, though Sorata insists that what you cook needs to taste good too.

12. Learn

“If you won't eat it, we can just order someth—” Sorata drags him to the kitchen for a cooking lesson before he can finish.

13. Posture

“Here, if you lift your chin a bit, and straighten your back—” Sorata holds onto his shoulders and steps back a bit to get a better view at him, Ryuunosuke's attempts to deter him doing nothing, as usual “—you'll thank me for this later, Akasaka, you'll make a better impression on them if your posture is good!”

14. Team

“I don't like team games,” Ryuunosuke says, not unexpectedly, but Sorata is pretty sure he and Misaki will manage to rope him into a few anyway.

15. Listen

“You just don't want to admit that she's actually really good for you,” Sorata starts heatedly, but Ryuunosuke is out of the door before he can finish.

16. Distance

“You know, you could at least admit that we're really good for you,” Sorata tries, his tone softer this time as he slumps back on Ryuunosuke's bed, looking at the ceiling, “just like you're really good for us... we've come a long way together.”

17. Subject

“It's research...” Sorata waves the console at him imploringly; Ryuunosuke turns away, hiding a smile, “...come on, Akasaka, just one game?”

18. Length

“You're just about the only person here I could tolerate living with for longer than two years,” Ryuunosuke mumbles sleepily one night, not expecting Sorata to really remember it.

19. Grumble “...oh, alright, I suppose I've got some time to spare...” Ryuunosuke rolls his eyes, but Sorata is all but beaming at him.

20. Assisstance

“Kanda, I...” the words seem to cost him something, so Sorata waits patiently for him to finish, “...you... you were right, and I need your help.”

20. Chord

“You could stand to treat your friends a bit better, Akasaka,” Sorata bites back harsher words, but the ones he calls out seem to strike a chord with him too.

22. Miss

“I think I'm missing something, Akasaka... your girlfriend sent you a lovely, thoughtful gift for your birthday and this situation is terrible because...?”

23. Gift

“...her birthday is several weeks away, that's plenty of time to come up with a gift idea,  Akasaka.”

24. Distress

“Do you think I'd be panicking about it this much if I thought I could think of something in that time?!”

25. Unite

“Combining what we both do... so you're talking about some kind of art software...” Ryuunosuke frowned slightly, looking from Mashiro, to Sorata, to his desk and the computer screens, “...even for someone such as myself... making an art software from scratch on my own in under a month... isn't exactly feasible,” he says finally.

  26. Serious

Mashiro looked from Ryuunosuke to Sorata, “Sorata, I thought he was supposed to be a genius.”

27. New

“I'd like to see you make software from scratch in three weeks,” Ryuunosuke muttered, leaning back again, as Sorata and Mashiro returned to the drawing board.

28. Smug

Sorata passes his driving test on his first try with flying colours; he offers to drive Ryuunosuke to and from every in-person meeting he has, so Ryuunosuke can't really complain about how smug he is about it.

29. Amount

“I can't imagine he'll be able to eat that many tomatoes,” Sorata said, eyeing the grocery bag that Jin had begun to unload.

30. Aviation

“I'll miss her too,” Sorata smiles when Ryuunosuke looks away abruptly from the rising plane, “but I think we all know she'll be back again soon.”

31. Gloom

“He likes programming and... tomatoes,” Sorata echoes gloomily, wondering how he's supposed to use those to start a decent conversation.

32. Routine

It had become some sort of a routine to bump into Ryunnosuke in the kitchen in the early hours of the morning on the days when insomnia kicked in.

33. Conduct

“I had hoped they'd be tired out by now,” Sorata sighs sympathetically when Ryuunosuke shoots a glare in the direction of today's chaos that Misaki and Jin seem to be conducting in the garden.

34. Appreciate

“Tomatoes are best enjoyed in their natural form, but I do appreciate the soup, Kanda.”

35. Victory

“Akasaka-” Sorata bursts into the room with what seems to be explosive, uncontainable delight “- I did it, I passed!”

36. Second

The second time they celebrate by the school pool, (despite Nanami's protests) Ryuunosuke decides to come for the food, but flat out refuses Sorata and Misaki encouraging him to join them in the water.

37. Visit

Mashiro comes by for a visit just as Sorata is giving Ryuunosuke a cooking lesson... he's surprised by how well it goes.

38. Rest

“Overworking yourself never did anyone any good,” Ryuunosuke scolds him; it's a sentiment that Sorata makes sure to repeat back to him on occasion.

39. Between

Between them, they'd managed to fix the broken kitchen sign with a lot of success... and the smile on Misaki's face certainly made it worth it.

40. Moment

“It's pretty good...” Sorata could almost swear that he was grinning, “it needs work, of course, but for a start...”

41. Certain

“Ryuunosuke-sama, a certain someone seems to be sending you a lot of messages for advice on his current project... should I block him?”

42. Split

“If we're going to be living together, we're splitting the grocery shopping 50/50, got it?”

43. Role

“Alright, I'll bring them to him,” Sorata huffs as Shirayama-sensei piles a stack of papers into his arms, wondering when he'd signed up for the role of passing on assignments.

44. Found

“Akasaka, have you seen K—” Sorata grins when he sees a familiar shape curled up contentedly on his friend's lap.

45. Lecture

“You're really going to lecture me about working out a good schedule when you pulled two allnighters to finish that project?!”

46. Exception

“Thanks, Kanda, I...” to his surprise, Ryuunosuke slumps against him after the awards ceremony; Sorata can feel his knees shaking a little still, “...I'm glad you came with me.”  

47. Attitude

It's a wonderful thing, Sorata thinks, to see your friend smile more and more throughout the years.

48. Reject

He'd expected Sorata to turn his back on him, he'd expected all of them to, and yet...

49. Unexpected

With Ryuunosuke being the only other resident home, Sorata isn't expecting much attention while he sneezes the day away, but it's a pleasant surprise when Ryuunosuke comes in with reheated soup, medicine and a bag of Sorata's favourite snacks, even if the latter is dumped rather unceremoniously on the end of his bed.

50. Change

A lot of things have changed for him over the past few years, he realizes, wincing a little as he helps Sorata carry the last box of his posession through the door of their new home, but he might have changed the most.

[arcane-literary-dreams]

Midnight Blooms

My #fieldsofvesuvia2k19 piece~!!! Sorry for the late posting, I finally got access to a computer so I could put a read more >:33 This is for @this-apprentice-is-done​ I hope that you enjoy! @fieldsofvesuvia​

_____

It wasn’t too often the shop cleared out so soon, though, Zarna didn’t mind. The wind slipped through the open windows with a hushed murmur,  and from outside, the soft tinkling of wind chimes could be heard, now that the shop had emptied. 

Their eyebrows furrowed deeply, focusing on wiping at the counter, albeit slowly, at the little hardened droplets of wax that dripped from melting candles and little speckles of various herbs and spices. 

It had been a long day. Longer than they would admit.

But it was relieving all the same now that night had begun to approach, and they had closed as soon as they felt was right, now that there were no customers around.

And around the shop they went, tending to the plants that hung by the windowsill, to the lovely, vibrant succulents that burst with a flurry of orange, reds, and glimmering golds with just a hint of cool green. 

She sighed slowly, a wordless, yet somewhat vocal sound of exhaustion slipping out of her as she made her way to the fire salamander, crouching. “Why, hello.” she simply murmured softly, holding out an elegant hand for the salamander to nuzzle. 

It pulled away, flicking on a warm, steady fire to the prepared wood. “Thank you, dear.”

Straightening and stretching, Zarna took a moment to peer at the flames a little longer, before startling, “Oh!” 

Peeking over their shoulder, Asra smiled teasingly, “Long day?”

Letting their guard down, they hummed thoughtfully, “I suppose so. A bit more tiring than most.”

His smile turned gentle at that, and he nodded slightly, chin resting upon their shoulder. “You should sit down, I’ll get you a cup of tea.” He offered, though, with the look in his eyes, the obvious concern, the suggestion was one they couldn’t quite just turn down.

Well, even if they did want to protest a bit. They weren’t quite so tired to need to rest, but certainly a cup of tea might help? In fact, Asra had just returned from his own business as well! They both had their fair share of work and exhaustion.

A fond sigh slipped from Zarna nonetheless, and they simply eased the tension from their posture, before stepping away from Asra. “Yes, yes, alright.” They paused on their path to the sitting room, smiling, “I didn’t hear you enter through the front door! Did you enter from the back, then?”

There was a faint pause, before Asra reentered the room equipped with a startlingly quickly made cup of tea in hand. 

“Maybe.” He answered, and deftly, once Zarna had taken their cup from him, pulled out a little blossom from his bag. “I had to get something, after all.” Sitting down beside her, he searched her face for reaction.

Taking it into her palm, Zarna gasped lightly, before peering up at him. “A dahlia? From where?” They asked, a little breathless. “The ones we have, haven’t even bloomed yet.”

Asra brightened up, watching as they took delicately held it, stem twirling barely in their grip. It was a lovely little thing, with a thin, faintly fuzzy stem, and the bloom a deep, vibrant blue with tips that had the faintest kiss of purple.

“Asra, this is beautiful.” They murmured, and for a moment, they fell into a little stunned, comfortable silence. He relaxed fully, heart full at the sight of such gentle awe that graced their usually composed, quiet features. 

The dahlia he provided may have been beautiful, but they were more rightly so. They were downright gorgeous.

“If you’re feeling up for it, maybe I could show you where I got it from~?” he broke the silence with a light and airy question, shoulder bumping her own.

“Of course,” Zarna let out a small laugh, “I am never too exhausted for you.”

And for a moment, Asra flustered, eyes wide and smirk faltering, before grinning once more. “Good. I’m sure you’ll be delighted.” He promised, grasping his hand in her own.

Her cup of tea was long forgotten in their hands as Asra pulled them back up. Though, they had half a mind to finish the rest, despite the cool liquid resting heavy on her tongue.

Rather hastily, the cup was placed onto the table nearby, before they were whisked off and out of the shop, the door clicking shut and locked as they left.

The path they tread was a familiar one. One in which they had to take many times, throughout this endeavour of a journey. Past the Marketplace, pick up some warm pumpkin bread. Through the Town Square- there was a little performance going on, of sorts, a public speaker and performer. Up to the Red Street, and oh, she definitely knew where they were headed. 

Headed, yes, at the very least, but she was still undecided if that’s where these flowers had come from! 

‘The palace?’ was what would’ve been their first guess, but with Asra’s own affinity for nature, as well as his overtly need to be mysterious, it was a bit too much of an easy guess, she thought with a small smile.

But oh, they were avoiding the main entrance! Instead, slipping into the Palace Gardens, they went about. 

(And while this may have been quite the long trip, Asra had perhaps used a little magic, took them for a ride along the canals for a quicker, more efficient journey)

And so what was evening soon slipped into a sleepy dusk, to a cool night. With dancing, twirling wind that entwined in their hair, their clothing and tugged lightly at them, as though urging them to stop, and dance a little, they continued onward.

They were in the more secluded area behind the castle, where the vines grew thicker, and the gardeners tended to pay lesser attention to.

The pumpkin bread had long been finished, and Zarna, even if they wouldn’t admit, was now the slightest bit sleepy now that they had eaten, and that night had fallen.

And from the distance she could see the sheer glass of the greenhouse as they passed by it, glinting beneath the mellow light of the moon, and inside, silhouettes of various trees, acclimated to survive even within Vesuvia, far from their original homes. Oh, they definitely looked forward to visiting one day. Perhaps Asra would like to come with them as well!

Gaze slipping forward once more, Zarna startled when Asra ducked below an onslaught of heavy, thick woven vines. 

“Oh?” They uttered, before pulling themselves closer. 

“This way.” Asra hummed teasingly, holding up some of the vines to clear the way. Hand clasping at their own, Zarna flexed her fingers lightly, to feel his own squeeze carefully.

From underneath the vines, they broke to open area, the short meadow that lead straight into the deep trees of the forest.

It was a mossy old thing, the pathway that they walked upon. Overhead, the tangled and outstretched branches of trees caught the moonshine, dappled shadows casting upon the old stone.

And when he stopped, Zarna raised their eyebrow, before scanning their surroundings once more. They were lingering between the borders of the forest, and the fields, though, deeper within she could see a cave, with stony, rock formations. 

And that was when she saw it.

With an outcropping of stone, and wild grasses, Zarna could see the wide circle of a garden that rested within it. And even with the darkness of the night, the moonlight still brought forward enough lumosity that the clouds could be seen in the sky, and the delicate petals could be seen individual, as the dahlia danced and swayed.

“Asra, why, it’s… gorgeous.”

They stepped forward almost unsteadily, before making their way down to the little garden, where delicate, smooth stones were makeshift landmarks to redirect the growth of the flowers, and kept wildgrasses out of the borders. 

Still, there was an unkempt, natural feel to this garden, and she had a feeling he wanted it to be so.

For moments uncounted, Zarna knelt carefully within the flowers, feeling when the wind caused them to brush lightly against her skin. And their hands, while urged to create something, perhaps a lovely flower crown, or to gather some dahlias to press and dry, were kept on their knees as they exhaled lightly.

Asra was close by, and they could feel his warmth emanate from him on this cool night, and Zarna could only smile softly, the mingling scents gentle on their nerves, what with Asra’s familiar, soft, and herbal scent wafting to entwine with the faintly floral, one of the dahlias. There was an undertone of fresh, healthy earth, and it was wonderful.

It was as though they could think with such clarity.

“I stumbled upon this place not long after one of my journeys. I… immediately thought of you.” He murmured.

“It took a while, but I kept visiting, helping them grow so I could see your reaction.”

Zarna smiled faintly at that, and with a sigh, fell back onto Asra’s shoulder, and with ease, he shifted them down, them scooting to match his movements, until they rested their head upon his lap.

“Well, I love it.” Zarna mumbled warmly, “Thank you, Asra.”

They had such a kind, and wonderfully sleepy infliction to their voice, their tone, that Asra could only smile in return. Vaguely, he felt, that this trip might’ve been too taxing, too tiring and perhaps not worth it, now that they were both so tired, but.

He knew it was worth it in the end. That every second they spent together would be worth it. 

And all smiles and sunshine, with the moonshine dappling itself upon his hair, he leaned in for a kiss. 

It was rather short, but still achingly sweet nonetheless, and Zarna couldn’t help the small smile that spread across their lips as they parted. “You’re going to hurt your neck like that.”

Asra was still lingering in place, and even bent over awkwardly, he was still stunningly luminous, wisps of silvery white hair grazing his cheeks, all featherlike and light.

“Will I~? I’m sure you wouldn’t let that happen.” He grinned, gaze soft, and lingering as he brushed a light hand against their cheek, tracing the curves of their face.

Her eyebrows furrowed at that, and she looked at him, “You’re right. I won’t let that happen,” and pushed him back up, so he sat more straight once more, having to arch her back lightly to do so. 

His neck was still craned down to gaze at them, and from his shoulder, their hand reached farther up, before lightly cupping his cheek.

They lingered they like, when Zarna could feel the ache of holding her arm up like that, and the slow hints of sleep weighing down her eyes. 

Their breathing slowed, and Asra, with the faintest of smiles, cupped his hand over their own, before nuzzling his nose into her palm.

And for the briefest of moments, they could feel a whisper of a kiss press against their palm, before their hand was lowered back to their side. 

“Goodnight, my love. Sleep tight, and sweet dreams.”

[afictionaladventure16]

The Pen Pal Project (Chris Evans x Latina!OC)

Masterlist

Previously on The Pen Pal Project...

Warnings: Foul language

Word Count: 1,919

Chapter 8

Letter #8

November 14th, 2017

 “What’s up with her?” Andrea asks as she raises her eyebrows at Irene.

“She’s sad because she ended things with Omar,” Irene states.

“Aww, no more toxic dick?” Andrea said as she walked over to Julie, “I’m gonna miss those toxic ass stories.”

Julie rolled her eyes, “it’s better this way.”

“Maybe we should have a funeral for the dead vagina that Julie is going to have,” Destiny added as she looked through the fridge.

“Maybe not for long,” Irene said with a small smirk.

“What do you mean?” Andrea asked as she jumped onto the couch next to Irene, giving her a ‘tell me everything’ look.

Julie glared at Irene, “Irene,” Julie said in a warning tone.

“Don’t tell me, Julie has another man already!” Destiny said as she walked over to us, holding Julie’s sour worms and some bag of chips. Julie snatched the bag of sour worms from Destiny, causing her to gasp.

“My sour worms, puta,” Julie said with a small smirk.

“Ugh, I forgot how territorial you can be with those things!” Destiny rolled her eyes

Julie rolled her eyes at her crazy friends, they were pretty wild but that’s how they are. Sometimes inappropriate but hey, Julie wouldn’t have it any other way. “So, what’s the plan for today anyway?” Julie wasn’t too happy that her friends came barging into her room at seven in the morning on her three day weekend off from work.

“Forget the plan! What do you meeaannn, Iireeennnee!!” Andrea yelled as she grabbed Irene’s arm in desperation.

Julie groaned, “Fine, tell them!”

Irene giggled, “Julie has a pen pal and it’s a guy!”

“A pen pal?” Andrea asked, “Oh my gosh, what if he’s your soulmate!?”

“Or a murderer,” Destiny added.

Julie looked over at Destiny, “exactly!”

“It’s okay if he is, I can solve your murder… just like wait until I finish getting my degree, though.”

“Yeah, I’ll totally wait to get murdered just so you can solve it, Des,” Julie said sarcastically with a small eye roll.  said excitingly as sat next to Julie, “what’s he like?”

“Tell me all about him!” Andrea said excitingly as sat next to Julie, “what’s he like?”

Julie rolled her eyes, “He’s just a friend, leave it alone, okay? I’m only doing this because my therapist wants to try things out with this new project she is doing.”

Andrea sighed, “you’re no fun.”

Julie ignored Andrea, as much as she loved the girl, she hated how desperate Andrea was to find Julie’s “Soulmate” but Julie was starting to think that soulmates probably weren’t a thing.

“Well, since you have the weekend off, we went ahead and got tickets to Disneyland,” Destiny said with a grin.

“What!?” Julie exclaimed.

“Yee, we’re leaving tonight for the hotel, maybe go to the park for a ride or two, so pack a bag, girlie!” Andrea said.

“But wh-“

“Because you’re constantly working, you never get days off in a row like this and with everything… we just think you need this nice break,” Andrea explained.

“But what about your kids?”

Andrea rolled her eyes, “Girl, I’ve been needing a day off too! My husband has them handled for the weekend, he’s probably gonna take them to see his mom down in San Diego for the weekend.”

Julie smiled at her friend and gave her a hug, “Thank you guys!”

“But for now we have to get you two packing!” Destiny said as she pointed at Julie and Irene.  

Julie went to her room to start packing, it’s been a couple of days since she’s sent her letter, she had planned on going to the P.O. box today to check if she had a letter. She decided to just check as soon as she came home. This is probably the first that Julie wouldn’t be replying right away and it made her feel anxious.

 November 16th, 2017

Throughout the weekend, the girls had fun, and to end the last night of the weekend they all decided to go to Club 33.

“Oooo, that boy right there is Dominican!” Destiny said as she smirked at the boy that winked as he walked passed her.

“How do you know that?” Irene asked as she looked over at Destiny.

“Girl, Dominicans can just sense it,” Destiny said making everyone in the group laugh.

“Ugh, I so needed this!” Julie said as she downed the last of her drink, “And tomorrow I have to go back to work, to life…” To Chris, she thought. She let out a small smile, her heart felt anxious to get home and read the letter. She didn’t want to feel that way but it felt nice to just pour her heart out to someone and for them to just listen without giving some type of medical analysis to what is going on.

“What’s with that smile?” Andrea asked as Destiny and Irene walked over to a small booth.

Andrea and Julie stayed at the counter, “nothing,” Julie said brushing it off.

“It’s about the guy you’re writing too isn’t it?” Julie sighed, “why won’t you let yourself be happy for a bit? Stop worrying about the outcomes and go with the flow!”

“Not sure if you’ve met my family or not,” Julie knew very well that Andrea has indeed met her family, including her mother, “but I’ve learned that going with the flow leads nowhere.”

“You’re not her,” Andrea said softly, “you will never be her. I don’t know how many times I have to tell you but I believe that you are a way better person than your mother ever was! You just need to realize that.”

Julie sighed, “Can we just enjoy the night? Please?” Andrea gave Julie a small nod, they grabbed their drinks and walked over to the booth.

 November 17th, 2017

Julie looked up as she heard the bell ring, notifying employees that a customer had just walked in, she looked up and saw Mr. William walking over to the counter.

“Good morning, Mr. William!” Julie said with a smile, “Same as last time?”

“Yes, ma’am!” Mr. William said with a smile.

Julie poured him a cup of coffee, “You know, Mr. William, I never got your first name.”

“Henry,” He said with a smile.

“Henry? I have a cousin named Henry, he’s stationed in Spain.”

“Spain?” Mr. William chuckled, “Let me guess, Airforce?”

“Marines, actually.”

Mr. William gave her a small nod, “I was in the Army, back in Vietnam.”

“Oh really?” Julie began wiping down the area next to Mr. William on the counter as he told her stories about his time in Vietnam. Julie noticed how slow it was so she decided to just sit next to him after serving him his food, and listen to him talk. Mr. William liked the company and he liked telling the young girl about his experiences. Once Mr. William had finished eating he told the young girl that he had to go the hospital down the block, he explained that he was a volunteer baby cuddler at the hospital.

Julie never knew this and found Mr. William to be one of the sweetest man she has ever met.

Julie said her goodbyes to her coworkers after her shift, she grabbed her car keys and walked towards her car. She finally was able to go to the post office, she had been waiting all weekend for this moment.

She pulled up next to the post office, She walked inside the post office and opened her P.O. box. Julie smiled to herself as she grabbed the letter. She walked back towards her car to open the letter.

  Dear JuJu,

Fine, I’ll give you five chances then. But I doubt you’ll even get it right, but if by chance you do figure out my nickname, I suppose I can give you a prize. And what is this prize you might ask? My last name. I’ll tell you my last name if you figure it out. And if you don’t figure it out then I guess, we’ll just have to see.

I wonder, have you sat down with Mr. William, yet? I would like to know how that went.

Julie, do you have any idea how fucking (excuse my language) talented you are? My God! I was moved to tears! I am cherishing this photo you sent me! Honestly, Julie, you have an eye for this! I hope you continue taking photos and sharing them with me.

Well, if we ever meet, I promise that my sense of humor won’t be dry. ; )

Also, It’s not a metaphor! Haha, but I know what you mean! I swear I can be the same way, trying to figure out if something means something else. Damn, English class. Getting us all traumatized.

Now I don’t want lessons, but I have always wanted to learn Spanish and if it makes you laugh then I guess I can deal with it. You’ve been to Europe? What part? How was it?

Sounds like me and my siblings! They sure are a pain sometimes, though. Right? But I sure do love them.

How dare you call my question weak!

I just did an eye roll. But I have to admit, this question is way better than mine. So, I would have to choose…. Huh… Unicorn. Unicorns can fly, right? If so then that. Why? Because Unicorns can fly. Just imagine that! 

Since you gave me such an amazing question, I have to try my best to top that one! So….

My question to you is…. Favorite Disney character and why???

 Toodles.

 P.S. I would like to see this wrath once, just to know what this wrath looks like.

 P.P.S.

I understand that I have dealt with/dealing with, anxiety as well. I’ve read many self-help books and I’ve done so many things just to help with it and I just have to say that your brain is noisy, everyone's brain is. But sometimes we have to stop listening to that noise, it’s what's causing this suffering and I know it’s hard to just stop, but trust me, you can learn. What are some things help you calm down when you have an anxiety attack? For me, I know I always try to calm myself down. Talk through it.

As for your mother…

What she did, it’s just, I don’t even know how to explain how I felt when I read that part of the letter, Julie. I am truly sorry that you have to go through that emotional trauma. I’m here for you, so let it all out, let out everything that’s on your mind when you think about your mother because I am here reading every single word.

But I believe you’d be an amazing mother; I know now that you learned from her mistakes. You care about these children that don’t even exist; you already want to do so much for them. It means something, Julie.

Would you ever want to meet your biological father? Have you met him?

You’re welcome, Julie. I care about you, even if we haven’t officially met. I still care.

  Julie smiled at the letter, she couldn’t wait any longer as she grabbed the pen and notebook she had told herself to keep in her car exactly for this. She began writing the letter. She put it in an envelope and sent it out soon after, knowing it might not be sent until tomorrow since the post office was going to close soon. But still, she couldn’t wait for a reply.

Taglist: @kelbabyblue @cocomel0613 @thejemersoninferno @crisferorav 

[recentanimenews]

INTERVIEW: Girlfriend, Girlfriend Director Satoshi Kuwabara Tells Us His Best Girl And More!

  Girlfriend, Girlfriend is a romantic comedy that started airing earlier this season and has quickly earned a spot in anime fans' hearts! The show features a blend of situational comedy and romantic tension and brings it together with a big, earnest heart.

  Satoshi Kuwabara is an experienced anime director who has headed productions including the first season of The Quintessential Quintuplets and various adaptations of Osamu Tezuka's Black Jack manga (as Chief Director). Now, he brings this experience to a new production as the director of Girlfriend, Girlfriend! Following our interview with manga-ka Hiroyuki, we are pleased to share an interview with Satoshi Kuwabara. Read on to learn about his experience heading the series!

    Video form of the interview

Exclusive interview with Girlfriend, Girlfriend director Satoshi Kuwabara✨ (via @girlfriend_en) pic.twitter.com/EtanyljthX

— Crunchyroll @ #VCRX! ???? (@Crunchyroll) August 1, 2021

  Crunchyroll: Can you please introduce yourself and what you do to our audience?

  Satoshi Kuwabara: So, introductions come first ... My name is Satoshi Kuwabara. I'm an animator in Japan. And for my current project, I'm directing the Girlfriend, Girlfriend anime. Which is something I hope you'll all enjoy. Should I explain what kind of work the director does?

  Yes, please!

  Kuwabara: Well, specifically speaking, a director's job comes down to ... As I'm sure everyone knows, animation is based off of hand-drawn artwork. And because every single element has to be drawn by an individual person, that means there are a lot of people involved. At the very beginning of the process, there's the screenplay, which is the foundation of the lines that are going to be recorded. Then after that comes the storyboards. And after that comes the animation process. You have the animators, whose job it is to make the characters move. And then, you have the backgrounds which are handled by another art team. After that comes the process of filming all these elements together, editing that footage, and then comes adding the voices of the individual characters; so those have to be recorded. After that, the remainder of the sound production gets taken care of, and when that's done, you have a complete animated film.

  But for that to happen, it usually involves a lot of different people. So, the easiest way to explain a director of an animated project's job is that he's the one who oversees everyone else's work. Specifying things like "This is how this should be done for this scene," or saying how a character should be colored in a particular scene ... Or "We want this scene to be shot this way." The storyboarding process is essentially about giving these kinds of directions, which then goes out to the assorted other departments ... And then that work all comes together while working on a film ... What's a good way of putting this? It's a bit like being the captain of a ship. I think that's why directing isn't something that can be done by yourself. Each different section of the production team has their key leaders, and their help is what gets everything done.

  I think one thing almost all animation has in common is that it's a team effort. You have a lot of different people coming together to complete a project. So being the director is about making sure that everyone's efforts come together successfully, and making sure the final product is reflective of their contributions. I personally think that might be the secret of what makes animation enjoyable. If you think about it, a single person is, at maximum, only able to produce 100 percent of their strength, but through collaboration, the more people get involved, that can turn into 200, 300, even 1,000 percent, it's almost a kind of inherent potential. And I think animation is unique in that it takes that potential — and because of that potential, it really has no limits, especially in the language of film. I think it's a medium with unlimited possibilities.

  What an amazing answer! How did you get your start in the anime industry?

  Kuwabara: Well, I got into the animation industry around 33 years ago, I think ... Before that, I really wanted to get a job in film because I really loved both live-action and animated films. I would always be heading to the theater in my free time. And eventually, I decided I'd like to try making a movie, or some other film myself, so I ended up enrolling in a technical school for animation, and after that, I ended up joining the company where I still work to this day.

    You've worked in the anime industry for quite some time. What is the biggest thing you have learned during your time working on anime?

  Kuwabara: That really is a hard one. When I'm asked to just list one it's hard, because I've learned so much in the past, and am still learning to this day. But something I always find is that, when I'm working on a project, I'm totally immersed in it, and just focused so entirely on working as hard as I can, and whenever I end up finishing and getting a chance to catch my breath, the thing that I'm always struck by is how grateful I am to all the other people who I've worked with.

  It's like I mentioned before, animation is definitely not a one-man job. I mentioned them before, but there're the animation staff, the art department, the photography department, the audio staff ... And that's not even everyone, there's still the project leads, and the general managers, I honestly think that animation is only possible with their collective support. And another thing that I tend to reflect on is that animation only really exists thanks to the audience. It's like realizing that, even though those of us on the creative side are the ones who put a project together, the way that it shapes up once it gets into the hands of the audience is just as important. And it's the audience themselves that are the biggest factor, there.

  It leaves me with the feeling that the truly memorable works that really shine reflect the combined passion of the creators, the people who support us, and the people who watch it once it's completed. And I'm always really grateful for that. That's the biggest thing that comes to mind.

  What is a day in the life of an anime director like? Is there anything you would like people to know about what the job is like?

  Kuwabara: Well, when I became the director on Girlfriend, Girlfriend, and this is the case with every project, but I think that I personally need to love something in order to work on it. I don't know if I'd be able to do a good job working on something unless I felt like I was one of its biggest fans, so the first step is to familiarize myself with what I'll be working on, and figuring out what I love about it. And my first impression from Girlfriend, Girlfriend after reading the manga is that it was really easy to fall in love with.

  After thinking it over, what I really do like about it is how the characters are really well developed in the sense that they feel like they could really exist. In specific terms, you have the protagonist Naoya, along with Saki, Nagisa, Mirika, and Shino, and the way that they're honest about those feelings, and live in a way that reflects those feelings, strikes me as really wonderful, and that's a big part of the story's charm. That's what makes the characters stand out, and really the big thrust of their appeal, from where I stand.

  Can you go more in-depth and explain what Girlfriend, Girlfriend is about?

  Kuwabara: Falling in love is something I think everyone can relate to, and I think that this is a story where those sort of thoughts ... Or more like, those sort of feelings are depicted very frankly. And because of that, I'm truly grateful to have been involved with this project. If there's one other thing I can add, I think it's an extremely well-executed comedy. The story as a whole is about delving into the romances that bud through the character's lives, and the comedy is sort of how we digest it. And the tempo that it unfolds at is something unlike anything else I've ever seen. The story really develops at a pretty rapid pace, but instead of feeling strange, it's actually very comfortable. I think that it's a manga where, once you start reading it, it becomes hard to stop due to the amount of momentum it has. That's another one of its big appeals and part of why I was drawn to it as a project.

  You also directed the first season of The Quintessential Quintuplets, which is another ensemble romantic comedy. Are you bringing your experience directing that series into Girlfriend, Girlfriend?

  Kuwabara: I think that when you work as a director, every single project ends up helping you grow, and it's definitely that it's all cumulative. Quintessential Quintuplets was also a comedy, so I do think my experience working on it was beneficial for Girlfriend, Girlfriend. For Quintessential, you had these five different heroines who would come into the scene, and there'd be a chat, and back and forth with their interactions, which would be what pushed the story along. And having to manage a narrative like that, one that is having to move forward while having many focal characters, is a difficult thing to do, both from a plot structure and an animation standpoint. But since I had gone through that once already, it helped me know what to do in Girlfriend, Girlfriend where you had all of these characters showing up and progressing their own arcs, along with the fun that they have with Naoya, the protagonist. So, that experience definitely helped me with knowing what to emphasize to really bring out the fun in the story.

    Do you work closely with the original manga-ka, Hiroyuki? If so, what has that experience been like?

  Kuwabara: Well, with the creator, it started with meeting him after I had become the director of the project, and from there we discussed a lot of the finer details of the story, and I got to hear a lot of his thought processes, as they relate to it. After that, with animation, after production gets decided upon, the screenplay is the first thing that gets put together — the script in other words. And a lot of us had the opportunity to check in on the script during its progress, from the producers, to people on the client side, and then those of us on the production side, and the writers, we all get together periodically and discuss things. And Hiroyuki-sensei managed to make the time to join those meetings, even though he's so busy, and he would offer all kinds of advice, which was extremely valuable. I had read through the original manga already, but he would point out things that I didn't realize, on top of offering ideas for the project himself, and the suggestions he came up with would always be very funny. We ended up taking a lot of his ideas and incorporating them into the anime.

  Another thing is, after the scriptwriting process we begin to work on storyboards. I don't know if everyone is familiar with what they look like, but it's essentially ... If the script is the blueprint for how the dialog will work, the storyboard then takes that dialog and, with a mixture of rough art and written direction, it creates a blueprint for the animation staff when they're drawing the characters. Hiroyuki-sensei also did some checks during that storyboard process and gave us a bit of device for little tweaks like what facial expressions would be best and what lines would go best and where. He really helped us understand certain key things about the story. So I'm really glad to have gotten to work with someone who was willing to offer so much advice to the project, and give such helpful advice.

  What can fans of the Girlfriend, Girlfriend manga look forward to most with the anime?

  Kuwabara: Well, a big appeal of Girlfriend, Girlfriend is all the cute girl characters, and I think people will really appreciate them when they see them in the anime. There's a real joy in seeing how expressive they become when animated, getting angry or crying, laughing. Other than that, there're the elements of action. You'll get to see the characters act out the more kinetic elements in a way the manga couldn't, and I think that'll be something worth looking forward to.

  Beyond that, when we started working on the Girlfriend, Girlfriend anime, we were really conscientious about maintaining the speed and momentum that the manga has, and careful not to do anything that would slow it down. I think that the animation is going to really feel like the manga come to life, and I think that getting to experience just how fast it hits with jokes will be something that's really entertaining. There are so many things I could touch on. We've put a lot of effort into making it a visually appealing show. And in order to properly express what the girls and Naoya are feeling, we use a lot of abstract touches to depict the interiority of the characters that the manga didn't get a chance to. I'd say those are all the things that I think people can look forward to.

  How has your team adapted your work process during the COVID-19 pandemic?

  Kuwabara: Well, even in Japan, the COVID pandemic isn't quite under control, and there have been effects felt in the process of animation production. Normally everyone assembles at the studio, and there's a lot of in-person interaction and discussion, and that is in the background as everything proceeds to unfold. But with COVID's prevalence, a lot of people are working from home instead. Because of that, there's a lot less naturally occurring communication, so instead, we try to make sure that those conversations still happen either using Zoom or other video chat software, and by actively making time for that, we keep the lines of communication open during production still.

  In addition to that, on the sound production side, when recording the voice-over for the characters, they now split up the recordings so that a lot of people aren't crowded together which is intended to help avoid infection. The thing is, since everyone involved is a professional, we're all consciously making sure none of this has a negative impact on the project, so I'd say the audience shouldn't need to worry.

    How do you feel about Naoya's idea to date two girls at once?

  Kuwabara: That's definitely the most notable thing about Girlfriend, Girlfriend, the fact that the protagonist is going out with two girls at once. And that's easy to see how something that can leave people with a negative impression of the protagonist, but reading the manga, I came to really like Naoya as a protagonist. And I think that's because he seriously cares about both Saki and Nagisa. He has a pure, unclouded love for both of them, and cares deeply as a result. I think that forms the core of his character.

  I think when it comes to fiction, no matter how bad a character might be, or how bad they're depicted, if they have one fundamental thing that makes up their character, that they won't budge on, the audience will be able to appreciate that. And that's something that they'll even come to approve of. I think you can really get a feel for Naoya's unshakable love in Girlfriend, Girlfriend. And the way he's so earnest ... If you take a step back, you can really see that he really doesn't come across as very cool or impressive. But that's a big part of how you can tell he's serious about his feelings for them, and how he works hard for both their sakes. That's why I think that, in the manga, it's able to take a protagonist in a situation that would normally get him hated and instead turns it into something that is a part of his charm.

  Who is your favorite girl out of all the female leads in Girlfriend, Girlfriend?

  Kuwabara: Well, that's actually a pretty common question, and it even comes up with other projects ... And I swear this is the truth: I like both of them equally. I think it'd probably impact the show in a bad way if I had a preference. Saki, Nagisa, and the rest of the characters all have things that make them amazing, and I feel like I can depict this story well because I genuinely like them all so much. So, I'm really sorry, but I honestly love them both. If I absolutely have to pick one, I would say Saki's mom is particularly cute.

  You're a man of culture. Is there anything else you would like to say to fans of Girlfriend, Girlfriend?

  Kuwabara: I hope you'll all really enjoy Girlfriend, Girlfriend. I think it will be really entertaining for both people who are familiar with the manga and for people who aren't. It's got a fun sense of speed, and I think the characters have turned out particularly cute. Those of us on the staff have worked really hard on it, so we'd all be really pleased if you checked it out. All we can really do is try to put together a great show and deliver it to you all, and it's my belief that it will only truly shine with its full potential once it's in the audience's hands. So, I'd love it if Girlfriend, Girlfriend became that kind of a project. Thanks for talking with me. Thank you for watching Girlfriend, Girlfriend on Crunchyroll.

      Watch Girlfriend, Girlfriend on Crunchyroll Now!

    Cayla Coats is the Editor-in-Chief of Crunchyroll News EN. She tweets @ceicocat.

By: Cayla Coats