#its not that i dislike any of them other than maybe valentines day which is why i have STOLEN IT and made it UNRELATED | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

azikarue · 11 months ago

Text

2023 Fic Recap

Little late with the recap this year, but it's still January, right? For now?

Going into 2023, my goals were to 1) update "Bliss", 2) participate in MayBlade, and 3) work on/finish some WIPs. Poor "Bliss" is still waiting for its chance, but two out of three isn't bad!

I'll ramble more at the end of the post, but here's a recap of everything I posted in 2023.

❖

A Kiss for Luck

Summary: Before his crucial battle against Mystel, Max takes a moment to center himself. He wasn't expecting company. Set in my Saint Shields in G-Rev AU. Pairing: Max/Mariam Chapters: 1/1 Words: 1,855 Rated: K+

This fic was the first of six short oneshots I wrote to commemorate Valentine's Day. I did something similar in 2021, where I wrote a handful of Max/Mariam kisses and published them during the week leading up to Valentine's Day. When I was planning my writing for 2023, it felt like something fun to tackle again, and it gave me a lighthearted and relaxed start to the year writing-wise. So, I ignored my entire list of goals and wrote this (plus the next five) based off of six kiss tropes. I chose a different pairing for each.

For this one, I indulged myself doubly by starting with Max/Mariam and by setting it in my Saint Shields in G-Rev AU. Ever since I started pondering this AU, the moment in this fic is one that I knew had to happen. I'm sure the Saint Shields would have a lot to say about BEGA. I'm also sure that Mariam would remember the lessons she learned from Max and would be happy to throw them back in his face when he needs it most. And I love the excuse to visit early Max/Mariam days, even if it's in an AU setting. I write so much about them as adults that it always feels refreshing to write a little closer to their roots. This one holds a special place in my heart.

❖

A Kiss on a Scar

Summary: Every mark on Tala's body has a story and Julia does her best not to ask questions. She doesn't always succeed. Pairing: Tala/Julia Chapters: 1/1 Words: 1,883 Rated: T

When I chose this trope, I knew exactly which ship I would write for it. I was glad to have more practice with these two after writing them for a couple of my MayBlade 2022 chapters. For some reason, I tend to shy away from any member of the Blitzkrieg Boys when I write. I think it's partially because they have such a strong fan base and I'm never sure how my personal image of them will rate. Honestly, I've spent so many years in the fandom focusing on more underrated characters that I'm not even sure I have fully developed ideas for the Blitzkrieg Boys. Tala/Julia feels more niche, though, like it's a safe place for me to play around in.

While writing this, I was a little unsure on characterization. Namely, how much Tala would share without prompting and how much Julia would prompt him. I think there's still some gaps in Tala's character arc between seasons that I need to fill in mentally. He's very open with Tyson when discussing BEGA and Boris. I can only assume that's some combo of righteous anger and maybe therapy? Or just figuring himself out now that he's free from Biovolt's clutches. Julia is a bit of a mystery, too. Mostly, I worry that I'll end up writing her too similarly to other female characters on accident. Reading this fic back, I don't dislike the way I wrote them. And it was a stage in their relationship that I hadn't written before this point, so I enjoyed it a lot!

❖

A Kiss with Red Lipstick

Summary: Usually Queen has more fun at Enrique's family parties. But she usually doesn't have to go out of her way for his company or spend the night stone cold sober either. Pairing: Enrique/Queen Chapters: 1/1 Words: 1,784 Rated: M

This chapter was just me writing for me. I was pleasantly surprised when it got more than a single note when I posted it on Tumblr, because I know this is such a random ship with an, arguably, even more random interpretation. These are the two I write about when I want messy drama and chaos. Red lipstick kisses feel very messy and chaotic, so here we are.

This falls into the same story line as the last Enrique/Queen fic I wrote. It was fun building upon that idea.

❖

A Kiss at the Beach

Summary: Salima gets caught staring. It lands her in deep water…so to speak. Pairing: Ray/Salima Chapters: 1/1 Words: 1,180 Rated: T

I'll never turn down the chance to write some cutesy Ray/Salima. I imagine the two of them traveling around together a lot, living an almost nomadic lifestyle between tournaments or stops home (to White Tiger Hills or Salima's apartment). It's always a treat to indulge in that line of thinking, especially for a sweet moment like this.

❖

A Kiss to Shut Her Up

Summary: Mariah has a talent for uncomfortable conversations. Rick's working on his strategy for getting out of them. Pairing: Rick/Mariah Chapters: 1/1 Words: 1,253 Rated: T

This was one of my favorites when I wrote this series, and I still love it a year later. At the risk of sounding like a broken record, I love writing Rick and Mariah's dynamic, especially from Rick's in-denial, grumpy point of view. He's a fun character in general, and I love how Mariah is the perfect person to keep him on his toes. And I had the line about her climbing him like a tree in reserves for what feels like forever, so it was nice to finally give it a home.

❖

A Kiss for the Winner

Summary: Tyson wins another World Championship and Hilary needs a minute to process his reaction. Pairing: Tyson/Hilary Chapters: 1/1 Words: 1,987 Rated: K+

I remember agonizing over this fic because I didn't want Tyson or Hilary to feel out of character. I've written a fair bit of TyHil since then, so I think that worry has subsided somewhat, but it was VERY REAL when I wrote this. I think the fact that the fic centers around a disagreement added to that anxiety. Arguments can be tricky. I didn't want it to feel like they resolved things too quickly to be believable or that Hilary's feelings were dismissed. In the end, I'm very happy with how it turned out.

❖

Subtly Sweet

Summary: When Hilary's computer crashed, she hoped work would be a distraction. Instead, she has a run-in with a vending machine and finds an unlikely hero in Tyson. Now if only he wasn't such a royal pain. Pairing: Tyson/Hilary Chapters: 1/1 Words: 4,320 Rated: K

I have this fic to thank for being able to tick my "work on/finish some WIPs" box in 2023. Very grateful to it for the feeling of accomplishment it gave me. 😄

For a fic that was sitting as a WIP for a year, it cleaned up nice! As a WIP, it was mostly dialogue with some vague outlining that I'd started, then left hanging. Sometimes pinpointing the perfect dialogue to take a plot from Point A to Point B can be a struggle, so when I reread my notes, I knew I had to take advantage of a good thing while I had it. The phone call scene wasn't originally included, and I remember doing a healthy amount of tweaking to get it right, but once it was there I couldn't imagine the story without it.

Fun fact: The original spark of an idea for this fic came from a conversation with RedWheeler literal years ago. I can't remember if we were discussing TyHil specific songs, but "Tangled Up In Me" by Skye Sweetnam came up and I couldn't get the thought of Hilary kicking a vending machine out of my head. Also, how is that song 20 years-old already?

❖

Life in Color

Summary: A collection for MayBlade 2023. Pairing: Multiple Chapters: 31/31 Words: 65,225 Rated: Varies (everything from K to M)

The pièce de résistance of my year. 💎

I, once again, did not finish my MayBlade entries on time. Unlike my first try, I accepted the fact that I would fall behind ahead of time. I think it made me feel much less stressed overall, but it also might have contributed to me falling behind faster than before? It's a double-edged sword. I know that I was in a better place for this round than I was when writing "Just A Moment", though. Life was much more balanced and I gave myself time to rest and recoup in between chapters, as needed, rather than spending all hours writing, editing, and falling asleep on my keyboard.

I'm very proud of this collection. I love challenging myself to write about some of my favorite, underappreciated characters alongside some of the characters more typical to my fics. I think I said this last year, too, but I love to see which chapters people like best and how it can vary between FFN and Tumblr. Sometimes I'm surprised by how things play out. Like, I was very shocked that the first chapter was so well-received on Tumblr, seeing as it focused on the Saint Shields. I'm sure it was because it was Day 1 of the event, but it was nice to know that some of my favorite characters got their time to shine. That was the case for more than one chapter, and I'd write a slew of notes on them all if it wouldn't make this post way too long.

All in all, I saw more engagement on "Life in Color" versus "Just A Moment" and I'm so grateful to anyone who read or interacted with it in some way! 🤍

❖

As I reflect on 2023, I can acknowledge that I took some positive steps forward in my never-ending quest for balance.

I'm teaching myself every day that it is okay to let go of things without guilt and pick them back up later. I can't be everything or do it all 100% of the time, and that's all right. It doesn't have to be all or nothing, and I can start things without having any idea of when I'll finish them. I can take a break from things that aren't serving me or causing more stress than I can handle. I can choose myself first and follow my whims. I can log off and be present.

In 2024, I don't know what my fanfic uploads will look like. I'd like to update Bliss and work on more WIPs. MayBlade is up in the air. I love participating, but it always turns into a bigger production than I bargain for. I may just need to participate differently, if I choose to do so.

September thru December are notoriously busy months for me, with May and June getting honorable mention. I'm not saying I'll be totally absent those months. Just putting it out there for me, so I know to go easy on myself. If I do nothing but read and take day trips and spend quality time with the people (and animals!) I love during that time, then it will be a year well spent. 🤍

As always, thank you to everyone who has interacted with any of my uploads this year and to the people who cheer me on and feed my fandom fire. I appreciate this little circle of the internet so, so much, and I hope 2024 brings only the best to you all! 🥰

#HAPPY 2024!#crossing my fingers for some fic inspo and motivation this year 🤞🏼#azrfic recap #azrupdate #azikarue #azikarue394

3 notes · View notes

gukyi · 4 years ago

Text

that’s the spirit! | myg

summary: min yoongi hates halloween. as his best friend and resident halloween-lover, that is simply unacceptable. but when halloween night rolls around and you and min yoongi feel farther apart than ever before, you discover that what’s come between you is more than just a bad trick, and that no matter what day it is, loving him is the sweetest treat of all.

{college!au, friends to lovers!au, halloween!au}

pairing: min yoongi x female reader genre: fluff, comedy, a little angst? (a little i promise) word count: 8k (woohoo! i did it!) warnings: alcohol consumption, underage drunkenness in flashbacks, misunderstandings, helpless but mutual pining, halloween parties, this is halloween during college, what else do you expect a/n: some scenes inspired by love, rosie, my absolute favorite rom-com! happy halloween, and i hope this brings some joy to your life before armageddon i mean election day rolls around! much love 🎃💜

Min Yoongi hates Halloween.

Which is ridiculous, because you assume that there must have been at least one time in his life where he liked it. Halloween is a universally-liked holiday. It was the one day of the year where he, an unbridled child rebelling against authority, got to dress up as his favorite book character, superhero, or movie star, hang out with his friends past sunset, and solicit strangers for free candy. Free candy! How could anyone hate that?

But the thing is, it doesn’t matter what Min Yoongi was like in his youth. Ever since you met him, he has hated Halloween. For reasons completely unbeknownst to you.

Unfortunately for Min Yoongi, just because he hates Halloween doesn’t mean that he gets to spend his October pretending that it doesn’t exist. Because, unlike him, you do not hate Halloween. In fact, you rather like it. So much so that Min Yoongi has to deal with the holiday no matter what. For better…

“Ah! What the fuck!”

Or for worse.

You pop your head out of your bedroom to find Yoongi about to throw down with the fake skeleton you’ve propped up by the door, one of those cheesy ones from Spirit Halloween that make a zombie sound whenever its artificial brain can sense someone near it. He’s got this wide-eyed look on his face, fists up in front of him like he’s going to beat the damn thing senseless, even though Min Yoongi is barely five-feet-ten and has a body that functions exclusively on iced coffee and could probably get taken down by the average third-grader.

Min Yoongi does not have a flight instinct. He only knows how to fight.

He’s muttering to himself by the time you emerge completely from your bedroom, grumbling about how he nearly wet himself at the sight of the thing, fingers glossing over the plastic bones as he inspects them. There he stands in the doorway of your apartment, curled-up fists tucked inside the too-long sleeves of his too-big hoodie, pink lips parted in innocent confusion as he blinks at your apartment’s new resident.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” You chide from where you stand in your room, watching as Yoongi jerks his head up. The sound of your voice seems to catch him off guard for a minute, eyes wide in shock before he realizes that it’s you and his whole body relaxes. “Was that you I just heard screaming outside my apartment, Min Yoongi?”

“No,” Yoongi deadpans, fully aware that the both of you know that it was him. “Must have been someone else.”

“Yes, of course, my mistake,” you tease, coming up behind him to rub his upper arm, the palm of your hand pressing against the worn fabric of his hoodie sleeve as he sighs. “You don’t have a problem with my festive decorations at all, do you?”

“Not those,” Yoongi frowns, pointing to the orange and black streamers hanging above your apartment window, to the mini pumpkins sitting in the center of your dinky kitchen table, to the construction paper cutouts of black cats decorating your walls. He rounds on the skeleton, propped up right next to the door with the sole purpose of scaring whatever visitors you have. “This, I have a problem with. What is this thing?”

You smile proudly. “Reginald.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Yoongi looks at you, positively flabbergasted. “You named it?”

You scoff. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I? I bought him, he’s mine now, and he needed a name. So I named him Reginald. What’s the issue here?” You weren’t about to buy a twenty-five dollar plastic skeleton, set him up to be your personal doorman, and not give him a name.

“The issue is that this—” he motions to Reginald’s face, “—is the first thing I see when I walk into your apartment, instead of—oh, I don’t know—you,” he says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Aw, I’m touched,” you say, pressing a hand to your heart. “Didn’t know you always wanted to see my face first thing when you come over.”

Yoongi’s gaze drifts down towards the floor, thumbs twiddling. “Well, yeah,” he mumbles, words barely audible. “Why else would I come over?”

“I don’t know, for the ambience, maybe?” You say with a shrug, watching him slide his backpack off of his shoulder and onto the floor by the couch. “Anyway, maybe if you had come with me to Spirit Halloween when I went shopping for decorations, you wouldn’t be so surprised.”

“I had two midterms that week! Two!” Yoongi reminds you.”

“I’m just saying,” you tell him, hands up defensively as you make your way to the kitchen, fishing out two teabags from the cabinet as you set the kettle to boil. You never used to like tea, but a year ago Yoongi convinced you to try this jasmine flower one from the Asian supermarket downtown and you haven’t looked back. Now there’s always at least three spare boxes in your kitchen cupboards, for you and for him. “No time is a bad time to get into the Halloween spirit.”

Yoongi sighs, loud and obvious, because this is the third year in a row you’ve brought up this conversation and it’s not any more convincing than it was the last two times. “Do we have to do this?”

“Yes.”

“Can’t we just pretend it’s November Eve?”

“Come on, Yoongi,” you plead, because he’s never given you a good explanation as to why he refuses to spend Halloween with you, and you just want to know why. “Won’t you just celebrate this one stupid holiday with me?”

“So you admit it’s stupid?”

“That’s not what I meant.” You frown at him, crossing your arms as the kettle starts whistling.

Yoongi exhales, reaching over you to pour the boiling water into your teacups, matching His and Hers ones you bought from the sale section of Target last year for Valentine’s Day. “It’s just not my thing. You know that.”

“But we’re college students,” you exclaim. “Halloween is the best when you’re a college student! You get to dress up as whatever you want and go to five different parties and spend the night with your friends without your parents chaperoning you.”

Yoongi purses his lips, unconvinced. “So… basically an opportunity to get piss drunk in a frat house? No thanks, I’ll pass.”

“You know that I wouldn’t care what we did if you celebrated Halloween with me,” you say, leaning against the counter as you hold your mug in your hands, the heat warming your palms and steam brushing against the skin of your cheeks. “Even if we just stayed in and watched a movie. Or played one of those horror video games Jungkook’s always talking about.”

“That sounds worse,” Yoongi admits with a helpless laugh. It really does. Neither you nor Yoongi have ever been huge fans of the horror genre Jungkook loves so much.

You chuckle. “Honestly, yeah, forget I said anything about that.”

“You know I just don’t care for Halloween that much,” Yoongi says, gazing down into the swirling brown of his mug, the steam from the water making his glasses fog up. “It’s nothing personal.”

You sigh. That’s about as good of an answer you’re going to be getting out of him. No matter what you suggest, whether it be a house party, a night in, or even just a candy feast, he has always declined, citing his unexplainable dislike for the festivities. The only reason he deals with the holiday in the first place is because you love it so much.

“Will you at least help me carve some pumpkins please?” You ask, a last ditch effort to get him to participate. “The supermarket on Fifteenth Street is having a sale on them, and I wanted to decorate the windowsill. It’s easier with two people, you know.”

Yoongi narrows his eyes, looking hesitant.

“Oh, please, Yoongi? Just this once? It’s not even, like, a strictly Halloween thing. It’s just a fall thing! Plus, we can roast the pumpkin seeds after for a snack,” you plead, placing your cup down on the counter so you can tug on his arms, hands wrapped around his wrists as you stare into his eyes, positively desperate.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Yoongi says with a huff, that resigned tone to his voice that signifies that he’s caving in. “Yes, we can carve pumpkins together. That I will do.”

“Oh my God, really? Yes! Yay, thank you so much!” In a fit of excitement, surprise, and joy, you pull Yoongi in for a hug, wrapping your arms around his neck as he tilts back in shock, tea spilling out over the edge of his mug and onto the linoleum floor beneath your feet, drops of it splashing against your skin.

“Whoa, whoa, okay,” Yoongi says, taken aback. Still nestled tightly within your arms, he carefully sets his mug down onto the counter so as to avoid more spilling, his other hand pressing against the small of your back. “I didn’t know pumpkin carving was so important to you.”

You laugh, pulling away as you look into his eyes, crinkled up into fond little crescents. “It’s not. But you are.”

“So cheesy,” Yoongi chides.

“You love it,” you remind him, pressing the side of your body against his as you lean against the counter together. Instinctively, you let your head flop onto his shoulder, fitting perfectly in the crook of his neck. “Thanks for doing this for me,” you say softly.

“Of course,” Yoongi says. “Anything for you.”

“Look how festive campus is!”

Yoongi chuckles as he watches you skip down the main walkway, the one that winds right from the west to the east side of campus, relishing in the feeling of autumn. Yoongi always forgets that it’s fall until it hits him like a brick to the head, and suddenly it’s getting dark at five-thirty and he can’t go outside without a proper jacket anymore. It’s a week until November, and Yoongi still refuses to wear anything heavier than a denim jacket, no matter how cold it gets. It can’t be winter yet, right?

“Wow, all the tones really fit the spooky mood,” you tell him, leaves crinkling as your feet step on the fallen foliage, brown and orange and yellow and red.

“How convenient it is that orange happens to be one of Halloween’s signature colors,” Yoongi chides with a roll of his eyes. “Is the Castle still hosting that party next week?”

“The costume one? Yeah, I’m pretty sure,” you tell him with a nod. “We’re still going, right?”

“Only because it’s our first year,” Yoongi reminds you pointedly. “And since you wanna celebrate together so badly.”

You scoff. “Don’t act like it’s such a drag. I know you want to spend time with me.”

Yoongi chuckles to himself, casual and cool. He knows you’re just teasing him but quite frankly, if Yoongi could spend every day of the rest of his life with you, then he would. If he could turn himself into a witch and cast a spell to keep you by his side for the rest of time, then he would. From the moment the two of you met in your dingy dorm, you clicked. And Yoongi knew, in that moment. He just knew.

“Oh my God, look at the pumpkins!”

Your voice breaks him from his thoughts, your finger pointing excitedly at the carved pumpkins outside of the dormitories that line the walkway, lit candles nestled safely inside. They’ve got everything from the college logo to video game characters to the face of your lovable-but-memeable university president carved into them, decorating the street with a little more personality than normal.

“They’re so cute, holy shit,” you tell Yoongi fondly, all endeared and heart-eyed, the same way you get when someone walks their dog through campus or a professor sends out an update email with a picture of their newborn grandchild. Yoongi’s only known you a couple of months, but already he’s starting to figure out what makes you tick. “I love them. Don’t you love them, Yoongi?”

You turn around to meet Yoongi’s eyes, and when he looks back at you it feels like his whole heart is lighter. He sees your smile and it makes his body fill with warmth, like someone’s wrapping a blanket around him, like a warm cup of hot cocoa on a cool autumn afternoon. He looks back at you, and it feels like everything is right.

“Yeah,” Yoongi says, grinning. “I do.”

The lopsided legs of your creaky kitchen table tremble as the pumpkin hits it.

“Damn, is this thing heavy or am I just getting weaker?” You ask, smoothing out the newspaper spread out on the flat surface of the table, two college students’ best attempt to avoid a mess. They’re old student copies with headlines like Brand New Cafeteria, but is the Food Even Any Good? and New Semester, New Me! sprawled across the front. You care about your school news, you really do, but the members of the newspaper team that hand out the papers practically stuff them down your throat whenever there’s a new issue, which is three times a week and at every street intersection on campus. So you’ve had extras lying around.

“Nope, they’re definitely heavy,” Yoongi agrees as he plops his pumpkin onto the table next to yours with a thud. “Though it’s not like I go to the gym much anyway.”

“Didn’t we say we were gonna try and be healthier this year, since we’re graduating?” You ask.

“That was before that new doughnut place opened up next to the ramen restaurant three streets up,” Yoongi reminds you.

“Maybe grad school?”

Yoongi rolls his eyes, reaching over the table to grab the pumpkin carving kits the two of you bought from the drugstore down the road. “Caution. Keep out of reach of children ages three and under,” he reads. “Welp, guess I can’t do this then…”

“Ha ha, very funny,” you say with a deadpan frown, grabbing onto his wrist. “Hold on a minute, Mr. I Promised I Would Do This For My Best Friend.” Yoongi exhales dramatically as you pull him back towards the table, though it’s not as if there was much resistance from him in the first place.

You pry open the plastic wrapping that surrounds the kit, the orange tools eventually popping out of their casing and onto your newspaper-ed table. Sure, you could have probably pulled out two knives from your kitchen drawer and it wouldn’t make a difference, but spending ten dollars each on these two little pumpkin carving kits didn’t seem like a waste of money. For the sake of Halloween spirit, right?

“What do you want to carve?” You ask, handing Yoongi your open kit as you gaze at the instruction manual. Pumpkin carving shouldn’t be too difficult, should it? You cut open the top, pull out all the gunk from the inside, and then carve a face, or something.

“I’m not a very good artist,” Yoongi admits, looking hesitant.

“Well, the good thing about pumpkin carving is that no one expects them to look nice,” you point out. “I think I want to do that anime eyes face emoji. You know the one. Let’s see…”

You grab a hold of the plastic knife that came with the kit, hover the tip over the top of the pumpkin, and stab. It sinks into the squash up to the hilt. That’s the good part.

The bad part is that, because you’re holding onto a knife made out of non-recyclable plastic, moving it once it’s inside the pumpkin is exceedingly difficult. You pull it right and left fruitlessly, watching as the knife sits firmly in place, the handle bending with the curve of your fingers if you tug on it too hard.

“Oh, for crying out loud,” Yoongi says with another sigh, abandoning his own pumpkin, which he has already de-stalked in the minutes you weren’t looking his way. “Let me help you.”

Suddenly, you feel a warmth wrap around you. A figure presses against your back, this musky, coffee-laden scent surrounding you, and you watch as Yoongi’s calloused hands slowly envelop yours, fingertips pressing firmly against your skin. It makes you freeze up instinctively, jumping at the sensation of his body around yours, of his torso pressed against your back, of his breath tickling your ear.

“Relax, alright?” He says, voice calm and gentle. He brings your hands to the knife, lets his palms rest against them as your fingers slowly wrap around the handle. You can feel him breathing, feel the slow rise and fall of his chest against you, the heat of his mouth just inches away from your cheek. “It’s just me.”

You force a chuckle. “You just surprised me, that’s all.”

You feel Yoongi pause behind you.

“Seriously, I’m fine. Help me,” you insist.

Steadily, albeit a little bit tentatively, Yoongi does. His hand wrapped around yours, together the two of you carve out the top of the pumpkin, his chest pressed firmly against your back, body engulfing you. He feels so close, so goddamn close, like there is barely an inch of space in between the two of you, like if he were to bend down right there and if you were shift yourself around you would see nothing but his face right in front of yours, his hazy brown eyes looking back at you, twinkling in the white light of your kitchen.

It almost makes you want to turn around and look.

“There we go,” Yoongi says, voice suddenly soft, quiet like there’s something else weighing on his tongue. “What are you thinking of carving?”

“I don’t know,” you murmur, lips upturned. “Maybe you?”

“I don’t make for a very attractive pumpkin picture,” Yoongi says with a shake of his head, even though that’s total bullshit for a number of reasons.

First of all, a pumpkin portrait is by no means meant to be an attractive portrayal of you, unless you’re Keanu Reeves and you look photogenic no matter what. Second of all, there has never been a time where Yoongi has not looked good. He always does. He did during finals week when his body was made of nothing but iced coffee, he did in freshman year when the two of you would stay awake until the early morning getting vodka spilled all over you in frat houses, and he does now, tired eyes and soft skin, dark hair and pink lips, standing in your apartment like he belongs here, like this is where he was meant to be.

“I think you would,” you tell him honestly. “You’d look good no matter what.”

Yoongi’s silent at that, but you can tell from the way his cheeks are turning red he’s taken the compliment to heart. It makes you want to shower him in them. It makes you want to freeze this moment in time, suspended in reality, and stay like that forever.

“Then I’ll do you,” he says with a grin, because what else would he say? Who else would he choose? You are going to put two matching pumpkins on your windowsill, and they will be of you and him. Messy, Picasso-style portraits carved into the orange skin. Two best friends, together even as fucking pumpkins.

You will carve out a picture of him, and he will carve out a picture of you, and isn’t that what this is really all about?

“Do you think people are gonna get the wrong idea about us?”

“What do you mean?”

Yoongi turns around to face you where you stand in front of your dorm mirror, this giant plastic one hanging on two hooks that you’ve latched onto the door of your room. He knows that you can see him in the mirror, staring back at you with a black mask over his face and a cape draped over his shoulders, the giant yellow emblem printed out on a piece of paper and taped onto his chest. It’s a last minute costume, for sure, but it gets the job done nicely.

“I mean,” you say, fixing the cat ears that sit atop your head. “Do you think people are gonna think we’re a couple, or something?”

Yoongi grins nervously and hopes that you don’t notice. “I mean, we’re just going to a frat party. I doubt it’s going to be light enough to see anything at all. Why?”

“Well, I don’t want people to get the wrong idea about us,” you say, adjusting the mask over your eyes. Yoongi, unabashedly, rakes his eyes up and down your figure. Your black turtleneck and skintight leather leggings don’t leave very much to the imagination. You’re definitely much more in costume than he is, to say the least.

“We’re freshmen, people already have the wrong idea about us,” Yoongi scoffs.

You turn around just so you can shoot a frown his way. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

“Why are you so worried about people getting the wrong idea about us?” Yoongi asks you, an eyebrow raised. This does not exactly bode well for him. “We can be Batman and Catwoman together no matter what people think.”

“I don’t know, I guess I just—” You stop in your tracks, letting the words fall off your lips and crash to the floor. “Never mind, it’s stupid.”

“What? You can tell me,” Yoongi says, concern lacing his voice. He rushes over to you, the two of you staring at your reflections in the mirror. Two friends, clad in black, wearing matching costumes. If Yoongi wasn’t sober right now, maybe he would actually do it.

Maybe.

“It’s nothing, it’s nothing,” you shrug it off with a shake of your head. “I’m happy to be doing this with you. Even if your costume totally sucks.”

“Hey!” Yoongi exclaims defensively. “It is not my fault you came up with this idea last minute even though you already owned everything. I had to pay twenty-five cents to print this in color, you know.”

“A Twenty-five cent costume and you still look good.”

You and Yoongi smile at each other in the mirror, lips turned up as you stare at yourselves, wondering if this is all you will ever be, or if there is something more.

Yoongi sure hopes it’s the latter.

And he’s determined to find out, once and for all, tonight.

You’ve just lit the candles that sit inside yours and Yoongi’s pumpkins when you hear the knock at your door.

You’re sure that Yoongi can hear you from a mile away as you scurry towards the door, white platform heels clapping against the floorboards with every step you take. You’re going to have to practice walking in these a bit more. Maybe you shouldn’t have bought them only a week before Halloween, and maybe you should have at least tried to break them in a little bit.

“Hello?” You swing open the door.

“He—whoa,” Yoongi begins before his eyes widen to the size of the moon as he fully takes in the sight in front of him. “What’s with the—uh, the… dress?” He’s scratching at the nape of his neck, eyes sweeping up and down your body.

You hold out the skirt of your sequined, bedazzled dress as best you can, and grin. “I’m a gogo dancer! What do you think?”

“Wow, I—” Yoongi starts, a little speechless. “I don’t know. Wow. You look… you look nice, Y/N.”

You smile, thankful for the compliment. Yoongi seems weirdly breathless, blinking more often than usual, like he’s trying to convince himself that what he’s seeing is real. Although, you will admit that this dress is much more sparkly than anything else you have in your closet. You reckon a few disco balls were sacrificed to make this costume.

“Why—uh, why did you call me over? Did you need something from me?”

“Actually, yes,” you say, ushering Yoongi into your apartment.

As he’s walking inside, Yoongi notices the pumpkins sitting on your windowsill. “Hey, those look cute together.”

“Don’t they?” You say proudly. Nobody else has commented on them, but then again, you live on the fifth floor of your apartment, so you don’t imagine many people can even see them from ground level. But it’s nice to know that they’re there, and that they mean something. Not to a whole lot of people, but to you. And to him. “But that’s not why I asked you to come over.”

“Why, what’s up?”

You freeze when he looks up at you, like you can hardly will the next few words to come out of your mouth. They’re stuck at the dam of your lips, refusing to budge, because there is this tiny, this little part of you that doesn’t even have the courage to ask. To say it. Because you know already.

“Hoseok’s throwing a party tonight—”

“No.”

“You didn’t even let me finish!”

“But I know what you’re going to say,” Yoongi says like it’s obvious, because it is. “You’re going to ask me to come with you. And I don’t know how many times I have to tell you this, Y/N, but I am not going to go. I’m just not.”

“But it’s not a shitty frat party or anything!” You exclaim, desperately trying to dig yourself out of a hole you’re already six-feet in. “It’s at his place, an apartment across campus, with just some friends of his. There won’t be crazy music and sleazy guys and jungle juice. It’s just going to be a house party.”

“I don’t care, I don’t want to go,” Yoongi tells you. “There’s nothing you can do to change my mind.”

“Why? Why won’t you go?” You demand, because the least your best friend of nearly four years could do is give you a real reason. A real reason as to why he hates Halloween, why he never wants to celebrate it with you, why he never wants to go out with you on your favorite night of the year.

“Because I just don’t want to! Why can’t you just accept that? I don’t want to go!”

Silence. It’s almost as if Yoongi’s shocked he was even speaking so loudly in the first place.

Next to you, the candles flicker.

“I don’t get it,” you say, resigned. “I don’t understand. This is our very last year to celebrate Halloween as college students, as best friends, and you can’t even give me a real excuse as to why you won’t come with me.”

Yoongi frowns. “What do you mean, ‘a real excuse’?”

“Exactly that,” you say sharply. “A real excuse. Even when I offer for us to just stay in and eat KitKats and watch a shiity movie you refuse. All because it’s Halloween. I don’t get it. It’s not the crowds, and it’s not the drinks, and it’s not even the other stuff, like the pumpkins and the decorations. Is it me? Am I the reason you don’t want to celebrate Halloween?”

“No, what the fuck, it’s not you!”

“Then what is it, Yoongi?” You plead, not even making an attempt to lower your voice. Can’t he hear the sheer desperation in your voice? The hopelessness? “Why won’t you just tell me why you don’t ever want to celebrate this goddamn holiday with me? Is it my fault?”

“I just don’t!”

The sound of Yoongi’s shouts echoes throughout your living space, bouncing off of the walls. You look back at him, feeling helpless, but he doesn’t look angry, or enraged. He looks exhausted. Like this conversation has knocked the wind right out of him, stolen the breath from his lungs. Like suddenly the pot has boiled over, only it’s extinguished the flames that kept it burning.

“I just don’t,” Yoongi repeats, fists clenched tightly by his side. “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

He gives you one last tired look, matching your own defeated expression, before turning around and walking out of your apartment. The door shuts firmly behind him, neither a slam nor a gentle stop, leaving you stranded in the middle of your living space, watching his silhouette disappear.

You sigh. You don’t think Yoongi will ever tell you why he hates Halloween. And while that may be no fault of your own, you can’t help but feel like it has something to do with you.

Yoongi could probably count the amount of times he’s gone to a frat party on one hand, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t already know everything there is to know about them. In his eyes, once you’ve been to one, you’ve been to them all.

Still, he supposes that it being Halloween makes this one a little different. Everyone’s in some sort of costume, whether it be good or bad or just plain old lazy, and there are at least a few orange and black decorations lining the walls of the Castle, and they’ve curated a playlist with Halloween songs as well as rap songs Yoongi has heard plenty of times before, so for once, Yoongi will give the fraternity a bit of credit when it comes to their Halloween party-planning.

Beside him, you take another giant chug of your drink from the orange solo cup in your hand, wincing as the alcohol burns your throat on the way down.

“Hey, take it easy, okay?” He says, though he doubts you can even hear him over the music, loud in the kind of way that his ears are going to be ringing far into tomorrow morning.

“I’m fine!” You shout back, even though you are definitely not. The entire room reeks of a mixture of vodka and sickly sweet soda.

“I just want to make sure you’re not overdoing it!” He tells you as the two of you get shoved together from some massive guy pushing past Yoongi and sending him crashing towards you. He catches a glimpse of the contents of your cup, eyebrows raising when he sees that it’s almost empty. You just got that drink five minutes ago.

You smile. “I’m not!”

The song changes, and Yoongi swears that he can feel the entire house shake as everyone screams, cheering as they bounce up and down, dancing to the beat. Next to him, you are finishing the last few drops of whatever’s in your cup, finding an empty ledge to place it down on when you’re done, and pulling him in close to you.

“Let’s dance!” You shriek excitedly.

And who is Yoongi to resist?

He lets you take your hand in his own and parade him around the tiny little space the two of you share, a couple square feet of freedom in this crowded room, chock full of sweaty bodies just like his. Yoongi may not have had as much to drink as you, but the little bit of alcohol in his system is already shutting down normal mental processes like not-staring-at-you-constantly and pretending-that-he-likes-you-just-as-a-friend, sending him into a tizzy whenever he meets your starstruck eyes.

Even in this dingy, sweaty, unventilated fraternity living room, you are beautiful. You are beautiful here, and you are beautiful at three in the morning after twelve straight hours of studying, and you are beautiful after spilling the dining hall’s chicken noodle soup all over yourself.

God, you’re the only person Yoongi is looking at in this room. You’re the only person he sees.

Shaking his head, Yoongi abandons those thoughts as the song comes to an end, a hand wrapped around your wrist as he leans into your ear. “Do you wanna go outside? It’s hot in here!”

“Okay, whatever!” You agree easily, too easygoing after you’ve got a few drinks in you.

Yoongi grabs a hold of your sweaty hand and tugs you towards the back door, one that he thinks leads to a fenced in backyard. You squeeze through the crowd, getting a couple of drinks spilled on your shoes on the way until you reach the back door and Yoongi fumbles with the knob, shaking it a couple of times before it gets loose. Eventually, the two of you stumble outside into the backyard, where a couple of people are playing beer pong and a couple of others look like they’re making out.

It’s a frat party. What else did Yoongi expect?

It’s the end of October, and Yoongi doesn’t even have on a jacket, but the chill of the night has little effect on him after being in a room that’s felt like one hundred degrees for an hour. Out here, Yoongi feels like he can finally breathe.

“It’s kinda cold out here, don’t you think?”

Yoongi doesn’t even have time to respond before you’re wrapping yourself up in him, curling into his body and placing his arm around your figure, letting the heat from his frame radiate onto your skin.

“Better than being in there,” Yoongi reasons.

“But aren’t you having fun?”

He looks down to see you looking up with him with big, wide eyes, like you’re afraid that he isn’t having fun, or afraid that you’re enjoying this night more than he is. It makes him smile. “With you, I am.”

You grin at that, turning back to face forward, head pressing into the crook of his neck. “That’s good to hear,” you tell him. “It seemed like you were kinda nervous.”

“Nervous?” His voice cracks as he says it. Fuck.

“Yeah, is there something you wanna tell me? It looks like you’ve been dying to say something all night,” you comment mindlessly, clearly much more observant now than you are when you’re sober. Or perhaps, Yoongi’s just more obvious.

He takes a deep breath, pressing his eyes shut tightly. This is his chance. He knows it.

“Actually, yes, there is,” he says, and it feels like he has to force the words out of his mouth because they’re refusing to come out on their own, pausing at the edge of his lips. It feels like he has to overcome his own mind in order to tell you, feels like every word is a sucker punch to his lungs.

You pull away from him, looking up at Yoongi with big, blinking eyes. It’s a clear night, and Yoongi knows because he can see the fucking stars reflected in your pupils, see them twinkling as your glossy eyes gaze back up at him. You look up at Yoongi and God, you are just so beautiful. You are beautiful, and Yoongi wonders, then, if you know. If you know how Yoongi looks at you. If you know how he feels about you. He is so in love. It doesn’t take a genius to figure that out. You are beautiful and he is so in love, and he’s been dying to tell you that and this might be his only opportunity to do so, because tomorrow will be a new day and Yoongi won’t have the guts tomorrow. This is his only chance.

You deserve to know.

“Well?” You ask him. “What is it?”

Yoongi wraps his arm around the small of your back, pulls you into him, and presses his lips to yours.

Hoseok’s party is fun. It’s definitely one of the better ones you’ve been to in your four years of university so far. There aren’t too many people, and the drinks are actually good instead of just burning your throat, and his music taste is impeccable.

And yet, you don’t think you’ve ever been so unenthused at a party in your whole life. Thriller by Michael Jackson blares from Hoseok’s television speakers, chatter fills the room, and Hoseok’s girlfriend, Haebin, is constantly checking up on you, but never has one place felt so empty.

It’s not really very difficult for you to wonder why.

“Hey, Y/N!”

You whip your head around to find Haein standing by the kitchen table, gesturing towards Hoseok as he’s looking up the recipe for a drink he wants to try.

“You want one? Hoseok’s trying to make Long Island Iced Tea,” Haebin asks. Next to her, Hoseok is struggling to get the measurements right. At least he’s making an attempt.

You stare down at your nearly-full cup of strawberry daiquiri. You took one sip when Haebin first handed it to you thirty minutes ago, and haven’t touched it since. “No, I’m alright, thank you.”

Haebin sighs, patting Hoseok on the back encouragingly before she makes her way over to where you’re sitting on their couch, pressed up against the arm of the sofa as you mindlessly swirl the drink around in your cup, eyes zoning into the whirlpool you’re creating. She sits down next to you with a smile, with the kind of look on her face that makes you simultaneously thankful for and dread the conversation you’re about to have.

“Hey, what’s the matter?”

“Nothing, I’m fine.” You don’t even believe yourself when you say it.

“Listen, you don’t have to tell me. I just know that Halloween is your favorite holiday and I was wondering if there was something getting you down tonight,” Haebin says in that comforting, gentle sort of way, like an old friend who knows all your tells.

“It’s not a big deal, really. I think I’m just out of it tonight,” you say, not drunk enough to divulge more information but also not sober enough to keep your mouth completely shut.

Haebin smiles at you, lips pursed. “Alright then. If everything’s alright.” She pushes her hands onto her thighs as she gets off of the couch, heading back towards the kitchen to help Hoseok figure out how to mix drinks. But before she leaves you alone, she turns around and says one more thing. “You know, I don’t know why Yoongi’s not here or anything, but I wish that he was. You always look so much happier whenever he’s around.”

And that just sends your mind into meltdown.

Defeated, alone, and best friend-less, you place your cup down on the end table to your left and get up off of the couch, beginning to gather your belongings, your coat and your shoes and your bag, tugging your arms through the sleeves as you storm towards the door, eyebrows knitted together, lips pursed.

“Hey, where are you going—?”

“I gotta go, Haebin. I just—” You pull on a shoe, tugging at the boot as it slips over your heel, “—I gotta go. Thank Hoseok for me, okay? I have to go.”

You only have time to catch Haebin nod, wordless, before you tug open the door to Hoseok’s apartment and stomp outside.

This is the worst Halloween of your life, bar none. The time when you were four and you tripped over a curb on the sidewalk, spraining your ankle doesn’t even come close. It’s your very last year to celebrate Halloween as a college student, to celebrate it by getting dressed up in a low-effort costume and spending time with your friends, and your best friend isn’t even here. He refused.

He refused and you still don’t know why, but worst of all he refused and you still wish he was here. You wish you could have spent time with him tonight. More than anything else. You wish you could have spent the night wrapped up together on your couch, or on your bed, watching your favorite television shows and enjoying each other’s company. You wish you could have curled into his body as the television blared, pressed your head against his shoulder and felt the warmth of his skin on yours. God, you wish you could have.

You wish you could have told him.

You wish you had the guts to.

Twenty minutes later finds you outside one of the dozens of frat parties likely occurring on campus right now, the bass from the music so loud that you can feel it in your eardrums even outside of the building. No part of you wants to go inside something like that, but at this point you start to wonder if maybe hopping different frats is actually your best idea. Get a drink, get drunk, and then move onto the next one. Rinse and repeat until you don’t remember a thing about this terrible, awful night.

As you walk along the sidewalk, you spot another student sitting on the curb underneath a leaf-less tree, a cheap black drugstore masquerade mask covering the top half of his face. He doesn’t seem to be having a particularly enjoyable night either.

Normally, the last thing you’d want to do is sit down next to a stranger whose face is disguised, because who knows what could happen to you if you do, but there are at least twenty people surrounding the two of you, loitering outside the frat house in the hopes that they can eventually get inside. And honestly, you could use a fucking break.

As casually as you can possibly manage, you take a seat next to the boy, a few inches apart from him as he looks up at you. You can’t make out too much in the dim light of the frat house, but he’s illuminated just enough for you to see his eyes widen at the sight of you.

“You don’t mind, do you?” You ask.

He shakes his head.

You smile in thanks, shifting around where you’re seated on the cold cement, eyes drifting all over the place, from the houses across the street to the road to the people standing around, anything to avoid turning back towards the boy and initiating an even more awkward conversation. Sitting down, the world stops spinning, just a little bit. You didn’t have too much to drink at Hoseok’s, but it was enough to loosen your mind.

“Can I say something?” You say loudly, turning towards the boy.

It was enough to loosen your lips too, apparently.

The boy stares back at you, silent.

“I’m sorry, I just need to get this off my chest.” You close your eyes, breathing in and breathing out, feeling your chest rise and fall. “I am not having a great night. And I wish I was out here with another friend of mine, instead. He’s my best friend, actually. He just… didn’t want to come out tonight with me. But I wish he was here, because I love spending time with him, and I miss him.”

The words spill off of your tongue like lava from a volcano, bursting from your lips completely unfiltered. It surprises you, a little, how much you actually have to say. How much has been weighing on your chest.

You don’t expect him to respond. Truthfully, you can’t even believe you’re unloading all of your baggage onto him in the first place. Since when are you the type of person to tell other people about the tragedies of your life?

But then, he says, “You do?”

And it makes you wonder what else you’ve been keeping hidden.

“Yeah, I guess I do,” you realize. “I love spending time with him. He makes every day brighter, turns everything he touches into laughter. And I wanted to spend time with him tonight because I actually thought he would want to. You know, we carved pumpkins together a few days ago. Of each other’s faces.” You force out a laugh. “We carved each other’s faces into pumpkins and he still isn’t here tonight. I wanted him to be here because he’s my best friend, and because he makes me so happy, and even other people are noticing what effect he has on me. Noticing how fucking happy he makes me. Because he does. I feel like I’m a better person with him. I want to spend the rest of my life with him and he’s not here and instead of going to look for him I’m sitting here telling you the sob story that is my life and I just wish—”

“Does that mean you love him?” The boy asks softly.

“What?”

“Does that mean you love him?”

You turn to look at the boy, eyebrows raised, almost ready to deny such a thing, but when you open your mouth, nothing comes out.

How could you say you don’t love Yoongi? Of course you do. He is your best friend. You never want to live a day when he’s not by your side. You want to spend the rest of your life with him. He makes you smile and laugh like it’s nobody’s business, brightens your day without even trying. Just seeing him is enough to lift your spirits. Seeing his face on the other side of your apartment door, all ripped jeans and Converse sneakers, hands wrapped in the sleeves of his hoodie, dark brown eyes blinking back at you, pink lips parted in a grin. That image you have of him in your head—it’s one you don’t ever want to forget. He is standing in your apartment, lips upturned, eyes crushed into crescents, smiling at you. He is mid-laugh, grinning from ear to ear at something you said. He is right there.

“Well, yeah,” you say, because what else are you supposed to do? “I guess I do.”

Suddenly, your chest feels a whole lot lighter.

The boy next to you smiles, the dim light barely illuminating his features, but when you look at him there is something so strangely familiar about him, about the way he blinks at you, about the peak of his Cupid’s bow, about how his lips are stretched into a grin. It couldn’t be him… could it?

But before you have time to ask, he is leaning towards you and pressing his lips atop yours, crashing your mouths together in a desperate, messy kiss. His palm presses against your cheek and you can’t help but sink into it, sink into the way his other hand curls around to rest on the small of your back, let yourself be engulfed by him.

You’ve never kissed Yoongi before, but you know that this is what it must be like.

You know, from the way your blood starts to sizzle, sparks rushing through your veins. From the way your heart is pumping, loud and clear in your ears, like it’s been jolted to life. Like a shock is running through your body. Like a warmth is filling you up, from the inside out.

When you part, as Yoongi takes off his mask, he can’t keep the smile off of his face. “I knew it. I knew you loved me.”

“What are you doing out here?” You ask, positively shocked. “I thought you hated Halloween.”

“I do,” Yoongi confirms. “Or, well, I did, I guess.”

“Then what changed?”

“You. Us. We changed,” Yoongi says, motioning between your bodies. “I hated Halloween because it had bad memories for me. Nothing crazy, but, yeah. You don’t remember?”

“What?” Your mouth drops open. “What should I remember?”

“We kissed that night.” Yoongi begins, eyes shifting down towards the ground. Clearly recalling this is awkward for him. “Halloween, freshman year. Outside of the Castle.”

You don’t remember this at all.

“Well, I kissed you and you kissed me, and I thought that we had established then and there that we liked each other. You know, like, really liked each other. But you were so drunk that night. I don’t know what you had, but you could hardly walk by the time I got you back to your dorm. Your roommate was furious with me.” He shakes his head at the memory, replaying in his mind like a movie. “And I thought, okay, we’ll just talk about this tomorrow. But you must have had a wicked headache or something, because I saw you the next day and you said—”

“God, whatever happened last night, I don’t want to know.”

It’s the middle of the day, the sun high in the crisp November sky, but you have been cradling your forehead ever since Yoongi last dropped you off, back at your dorm, when you were slowly starting to crash.

“What?” His voice is hollow, empty.

“Last night fucked me up real good,” you say with a huff, shaking your head. “I’m glad I don’t remember what happened last night.”

As Yoongi traipses back to square one, his heart shakes in its cage.

“I guess you just didn’t remember,” Yoongi tries to explain, much to your horror as you realize that you and Yoongi have been crushing on each other hopelessly for three years extra without you even realizing it. “So, uh, yeah. That’s why I didn’t like Halloween.”

“You kissed me that night?”

“What?”

“You kissed me that night? Outside of the Castle?”

A tingling on your lips. A faint feeling of warmth. You remember bits of that night. It was cold, and you were freezing in your costume. And you and Yoongi had gone outside to escape the crowd, and he said something, and then you said something, and then he—!

“Yeah.” Yoongi nods. “I did.”

“And I didn’t remember?”

“I mean, you were really drunk.”

Your shoulders sink, the thought of Yoongi, helplessly pining after you for three more years because he thought you didn’t like him like that, because he thought that the love you shared was one-sided, still sticking by your side as your best friend. At the thought of him deciding it was better to be best friends and keep that love hidden than tell you and risk it all over again. At the thought of him accepting what he thought was his fate.

“I’m sorry,” you say. What else is there to tell him? If you had remembered, if you just didn’t say those words, if you had just told him how you felt, this would have all been so much easier.

“It’s okay now,” Yoongi says, expression growing fond as he pulls you in for a hug, sad to see you so gloomy. “You love me and I love you. What more could I want?”

A realization dawns on you.

Pulling apart from him ever so slightly, you quirk an eyebrow. “You know, you could have just kissed me again the next day, and then we wouldn’t have had to deal with all of this. Plus, you would have still liked Halloween.”

Yoongi scoffs, pressing a kiss to your icy cheek. “So what? I like it now, how about that? I fucking love Halloween now. It turned my best friend into my girlfriend. She’s the love of my life. We can celebrate every Halloween together from now on until the end of time.”

You grin, pressing a kiss back on his little button nose, pink from the cold. Finally. “That’s the spirit.”

↳ don’t forget to message me with any thoughts or feedback!

878 notes · View notes

thatmultifandomhoe · 4 years ago

Text

It’s You

Pairing: Changkyun and Reader

Group: Monsta X

Word Count: 7,433

Genre/Rating: Valentine’s Day AU - Quarantine AU - Friends to Lovers AU - Fluff - Angst - PG-13

Overview: The last thing you planned to do was celebrate Valentine’s Day. Being single on a holiday that glorified love, especially during a pandemic, was the perfect sign to stay at home to guarantee avoiding having a broken heart. Especially when Changkyun, the one who held it, seemed to have plans of his own.

Warning: Mention of past unrequited love and having a broken heart - swearing -

A/N: Happy - early - Valentine’s Day sweet peas! And yes, Changkyun from Monsta X was the winner of the “Who Do You Want to Spend Valentine’s day With,” and I had so much fun working on this piece. I’m personally not a fan of the holiday - for reasons you’ll read below - but I hope that those of y’all who do celebrate have a happy Valentine’s day, and I hope that y’all enjoy this piece and get all the chocolate that you want this year!

Tagging: @srvdyv @skyys-universe @kpophoneybunny @wheein-whanders @ezralia-writes

Music Playlist:

Main Master List:

Pinterest Mood Board:

The First Installment of the Hoe Catalog.

©thatmultifandomhoe 2021. Do not repost, translate, or use my stories without permission.

“Are you okay?”

Glancing over at the cell phone that was propped up on the dresser, you raised an eyebrow at the black screen. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You do know what day it is, right?”

Fingers pausing, you pressed your lips together, staring down at the button of the black jeans you had been in the middle of putting on. You had known what day it was when you went to turn off the alarm that had set for that morning. It had been painfully obvious, and as the pre-recorded song of birds chirping increased in volume, you had stared at the date for longer than you normally do.

February fourteenth.

Valentine’s Day.

“I’ve only been awake for an hour,” you said, stepping towards the closet for a shirt. It had been a miracle that Changkyun had called instead of his preferred method of randomly video calling. While it was true, you had been up for an hour, you had only started moving about to get on with the day about five minutes ago. And currently you were only wearing pants and a black lacy bra. Although, knowing him, he wouldn’t have complained.

There was rustling on his end and the clinking of a spoon hitting a glass. “I know, but I just wanted to make sure. You seemed pretty upset the other day.”

“It’s not that I’m upset…” You slipped your head through the hole of a black smocked square blouse with red flowers printed on it, adjusting the top so it sat properly. “I just...don’t like the holiday.”

Which was putting it mildly. It was more than a dislike, but as you went to look in the mirror to make sure there weren’t any tags sticking out, you silently thanked him for calling. You never hated Valentine’s Day. At its core, it was rather a sweet concept, one that year after year, a part of you hoped that maybe you’d be able to have someone to enjoy the holiday with. But after years of being single on the most romantic day, and having it ruined by dates turned sour, more often than not a dark cloud hovered overhead while you tried to simply get through the day.

You tried to find some spin on it to turn it around. Starting tomorrow and for the next week, chocolate was going to be anywhere from fifty to seventy-percent off. Sales were always fantastic no matter what the reason was. There were only so many chocolate hearts that you were capable of eating though.

“Why are you calling so early?” You said, turning the conversation back to him. It made sense why you were up – even on a Sunday there was always work to be done – for him to be awake before noon, that caused a bit of worry.

“Ah,” there was a thump that echoed on the call like he had dropped his phone, his voice sounding distant. “I have some things to get done today.”

“Yeah, but it’s nine in the morning. I thought you weren’t even coherent before noon.”

Changkyun forced out a laugh and you lightly smiled, gathering your hair into a bun before carrying him into the kitchen. Even though it was a simple phone call and was a bit distorted, it did nothing to dull the fluttering going on by the butterflies in your stomach. His lazy grin came to mind, and only ten minutes into the hour and you were smiling like a fool while stirring your coffee.

That was another reason why you weren’t entirely fond of the holiday. The entire day was dedicated to love, to telling someone that you love them, and here you were, having fallen for your friend and yet you refused to tell him. It was hard to pinpoint when these feelings began, but it was possible that they had been growing since the day you two met.

There was no doubt that you were a workaholic, always feeling weird if you bummed around for more than a few hours, so it made sense that on the rare day off that you took, something had to crash it. You had been indulging in some binge watching of your precious Inuyasha when your phone lit up with an incoming video call from Messenger. Immediately you had been hesitant. None of your friends ever video messaged you since unlike them, your cell was an android.

You hadn’t planned to answer him. Not only did you not recognize the name, or his picture - despite how attractive he appeared - but you didn’t normally answer requests from strangers. With that in mind and mildly annoyed in having to pause the episode, you were ready to hit decline and be on with the day. Except, you were a dumb ass, and hit accept by accident.

Turns out he had meant to call someone else and had been equally shocked when you answered. In fact, he had been less than classy upon seeing you in instead of his friend, the words, ‘oh, fuck me,’ slipping out before he could stop himself.

In normal circumstances, you might have rolled your eyes, or told him to go fuck himself, but it had been six months into the pandemic and he was the first new person that you had met in a while.

“I don’t usually fuck strangers,” you had said instead, not missing the way his eyebrow rose and how his mouth curled upwards in a smile. “But if you wanna buy me a grinder and have it delivered to my place; I might eventually be persuaded.”

There had been a tense moment, but when he let out a breathless chuckle, somehow you knew that you were in the safe zone. Turns out, the two of you had a friend in common who he had meant to call, but he hadn’t been paying attention to what he was doing and accidentally clicked on your profile. The call only lasted for a few more minutes before Changkyun apologized and with an awkward wave, ended it. You stared at his profile picture and next thing you knew, you were scrolling through his pictures, oohing upon finding an old one of him with silver hair and an eyebrow piercing.

A couple hours later, there was a knock at your door and after slipping on a mask, you were greeted with a delivery man that looked no older than sixteen, announcing that he had a grinder for you. Before you could say that you hadn’t ordered anything, he promised that it had already been paid for, tip included. Not one to turn down free food, you accepted it, and saw the note that was taped to the paper bag.

I’m not a weirdo I promise. Jooheon passed along your address, and I’m not about to let someone go hungry. From, a friendly stranger who hit the wrong button.

There was no second guessing on your part. You pulled his profile back up and hit the video button, only having to wait a few seconds before his face filled the screen, locks of black hair falling across his forehead as he ruffled it up.

“Did you seriously send me a grinder?”

“You sounded hungry.”

There was a brief pause, and suddenly you were giggling, shoulders shaking as you sat down on a chair, his own deep chuckles joining in not long after. It was odd, but after that – and after confirming with Jooheon to make sure he wasn’t a creep, which you were assured he wasn’t – the two of you fell into the habit of video chatting. Some days there was nothing to say. With the pandemic raging on and everything closed, it was nice to have someone simply be there after all this time.

Fast forward five months later, the pandemic had only grown worse, and not only had Changkyun proven to be a good friend, but he managed to worm his way into your heart.

“What about you,” Changkyun suddenly asked. “You’re not actually working today, are you? Forget the holiday, it’s Sunday.”

Rolling your eyes, you went back to the bedroom with the black coffee in one hand, and him in the other. “Not all day. I have a few graphics that I want to finish up or it’ll bug me. Should only take a few hours to do.”

“Only a few hours,” he teased. “I’m willing to bet you’ll still be working tonight.”

“Will not.”

“Will too.”

“Not.”

His end grew silent, and he suddenly cleared his throat. “We’ll see about that.”

There was something about that sentence that stopped you from entering the password to your computer. Glancing away from the screen, you stared at Changkyun’s picture, wondering why his voice had softened when he had said that, as if he knew something that you didn’t.

“What is it that you have to do?” You found yourself asking him again, not looking at the keys as you logged into your laptop, the bleeding hearts screensaver appearing as the icons loaded one by one.

“Just some…stuff. I’ll probably be off my phone most of the day.”

“Oh.”

With the amount of phone calls and video chats the two of you had, it had become normal to hear from him a couple times throughout the day. The text chat was filled with various memes, emojis, and conversations that ranged from how much is too much fabric softener? - all the way to late night conversations involving stories about crazy exes, to insecurities, dreams you’ve always wanted to do, and whether or not the world would ever go back to the normal that you both had known prior to March 2020.

Wetting your lips, you leaned back against the desk chair and cradled the mug in both hands. “Well, have fun with whatever you’re doing,” you said, keeping your voice light so he wouldn’t notice the shift in your mood.

It was suddenly so obvious why he wasn’t saying what he had to do. With the holiday approaching, Changkyun had asked if you had any plans for how to spend the day, and with that came your explanation for why you weren’t overly fond of this particular day. The blind dates that ended terribly and being single had been part of the reason why, but there was one particular instance from the past that was determined to ruin Valentines every year for you.

In all the years, there was one person that you had confessed to on Valentines. Jungkook was someone you considered a friend, but you had only told him the truth to get him to shut up about his girlfriend. Up until that afternoon she had been the ex that, from your understanding, despised being in the same room as him anymore. According to him, she showed up at his place with the usual, ‘I miss you,’ and ‘let’s try again,’ and somehow that all managed to lead to wild and hot passionate sex that was, ‘insanely good.’

If only that had been it.

Whether Jungkook got caught up in reliving the moment and forgot who he was talking to, he gave you a play by play of their reunion. From the way she arrived at his door, to the way she felt around him, he told every detail all while you were on the other end of the phone, fingers twisted and tugging at your hair as you sat on the floor of your childhood bedroom. On all the days, the last thing you wanted to hear was your crush talking about having to move to the living room because his bedroom reeked from all their fucking.

The conversation didn’t last much longer, thank god, but you hadn’t been able to grieve because in the other room mom’s voice could be heard as she talked about her day at work. Instead, you forced back the tears and it took everything to not break down when she smiled and handed you an orange teddy bear holding a red heart that said I love you, along with a bag of Lindt chocolates. She was unaware, and while everyone slept, you buried your face into a couple pillows to muffle the sounds of your crying. You were only eighteen and yet you swore your heart collapsed in on itself before exploding into a million glass shards.

“That fucking dick,” Changkyun had said when you told him.

The screen had been bright as the two of you video chatted, and you rubbed your eyes, tired but not ready to go to sleep. He had been doing the rounds of locking up and shutting off the lights while you spoke, only wearing a thin pair black and blue flannel pants. At least he held the phone pretty leveled so you weren’t forced to stare at his torso, but there had been several times where you found your gaze lingering on his muscular body.

“I mean,” you ran a hand through your hair, shrugging as he looked back at you. “It happens to everyone.”

Changkyun frowned though. “No,” he said, his voice gentle but firm at the same time. “No, it doesn’t. And that shouldn’t have happened to you.”

Blinking, you forced the memory away, shifting in your seat to get comfortable once again. Just because you didn’t enjoy the holiday, or didn’t have anyone to spend it with, didn’t mean that was the case with Changkyun. Why else would he be reluctant to say what his plans were? He was probably just being nice and didn’t want to appear like he was rubbing salt into an old wound that refused to heal.

“Hey,” Changkyun’s voice softened again, and as much as you knew you shouldn’t, you wished that he was here, in the apartment with you for him to hold you. “It’s still early in the morning. For all you know, there’s a Mr. Right, who’s going to stumble into your path today.”

You scoffed, the clicking of your mouse echoing in the bedroom. “I mean, I don’t have plans to go out.”

“Surprises can happen you know.”

“Alright Changkyun,” now that the internet was up, you glanced back at the phone. “I gotta get to work. Stay safe out there.”

“Always am. Talk to you later.”

“Bye.”

There was a pause, and when you looked back over, the call was still going. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for either of you to leave it going while doing work, the silence was never awkward, it was more comforting than anything, but this time there was a sense of something being left un–

“You look pretty today,” Changkyun said suddenly.

Blinking, your fingers tightened around the mouse as your heart raced. “What? You can’t even see me Changkyun.”

“So?”

“I could be wearing my pajamas for all you know,” your voice faltered, and despite the constriction of wearing jeans, you pulled your legs up on to the chair to hug them to your chest.

“I’ve already seen you in your pajamas,” he joked. “You’re still pretty though.”

He was smiling. You knew for certain that he was, and that made your palms turn clammy, forcing you to wipe them against the pant leg.

“Maybe I’m not, wearing clothes?” Internally you slapped yourself, instantly regretting those words, and perhaps your entire existence at this point. It was still early. Instead of work, maybe you could possibly bury yourself under all the blankets and never answer his phone calls again.

Hearing shuffling coming from the phone, you pressed your lips together, not entirely sure if you wanted to hear what he had to say.

“Are you trying to keep me from my plans today?” His voice deepened and if it weren’t for the fact that you were already sitting down, you were certain that you’d be on the floor.

“No, I’m just stupid,” you blurted out, slamming your hand over your mouth.

Changkyun chuckled, and suddenly the phone seemed closer to him because his voice became clearer. “I think you’re trying to seduce me.”

Oh god. No. It was absolutely the other way around. He was the one who had the advantage on his side, between the lip bites and the selfies he sent that captured his jawline that was perfect to cut glass with. Whether it was his godly features, or when the two of you were video chatting and he rolled onto his stomach and face planted himself into the pillow, you fell for him every time.

“Know what?” You rushed to say, ignoring his laughter. “I have work and you have things to do. Stay safe, and I’ll talk to you later. Bye!”

There was no hesitation. This time you slammed your finger on the end call button and for extra measure, tossed it away and on the bed, letting it disappear among the sea of messy blankets.

Shakily sighing, you slid further down in the chair as the edge of the desk pinned your legs to your chest to keep from falling to the ground. He had never said anything like that before. Sure, there were times where he’d see you do something or when you’d ramble on about a show or work, he’d might say cute, but that always felt like an afterthought.

“Damn it Changkyun,” you said, glaring at where you had thrown the phone and hating the fact that his words kept circling around your mind, making you feel incredibly warmer than you had been ten minutes earlier. Hating that while he was probably going to be on a date with some pretty girl who was worth his time, you were at home, working on a Sunday, wishing that the guy you hadn’t even met in person was here and telling you that in-between kisses.

You ran a hand over your face with a groan, fingers of course getting caught in the bun briefly as you sat up. There was work to be done, and with a click of the mouse, the programs you needed quickly opened up. It was fairly easy, and if you focused, would only take an hour, maybe even less to get done. But with Changkyun on the brain, all you wanted to do was curl back up under the messy blankets and daydream about him. About what it would be like to hug him, to hear his voice in person, and perhaps, spend a Valentine’s day with someone who wouldn’t let you down.

That wasn’t going to happen though. It was a daydream and nothing more.

Lacing your fingers together, you quickly turned them inward, groaning in satisfaction at the loud crack that emitted from the joints. Outside the window that the desk was placed in front of, the sun had already begun its descent for the night. The sky was painted in splashes of orange with lazy clouds slipping in, the remaining bits of blue falling steadily behind.

Despite what Changkyun had predicted, he was only partially correct. With him swimming freely in your mind, you had been distracted, lost in a hazy daydream that made it impossible to focus on the graphics that you were trying to finish up. More often than not you stepped away from the desk, feet guiding you to the other room or in small twirls with the faintest lovesick smile. It was impossible to get anything done. So, you said fuck it. It was Sunday after all, and you weren’t expected to have those scheduled to be posted for a few days. Where was the harm in having one day to yourself? One with no work whatsoever to stress you out?

With work out of the way and having no other plans, another cup of coffee had been made and in the spirit of the holiday, your gaze had lingered on the makeup that sat on the dresser. Most of it had gone unused as the weeks melted into months. Tubes of lipstick and eye shadow palettes once loved had been forgotten about, and as you recalled, the brushes that you typically forgot to clean had been washed out of pure boredom. It was with new motivation that you grabbed a majority of the collection and hopped onto the counter in the bathroom, music playing from a playlist filled with songs from your younger years that held nostalgia, and simply played around with the colors.

By the time you were done, an hour had gone by, and you gained two cut creases with glitter, contoured cheeks, painted your lips, and looked like you were ready to go out for a date out in the city to be wined and dined. Instead, you slipped on a pair of fuzzy socks and slid into the kitchen with plans to see what frozen meal the freezer had to offer. If anything, it had the bare bones of a date. The location? Your couch. The hot leading man? Most likely the main character from whatever show you finally decided on after you gave a good scroll through Netflix. All you needed was utter disappointment and it could be considered a success.

You were torn between making the decision for frozen lasagna or chicken Alfredo, but a sudden and loud knock at the door stopped you. Eyebrows pulling in confusion, you carefully set the food on the counter, taking a moment to slip on the mask that you left hanging on the doorknob for situations like this. Not that they occurred often. With the exception of having food delivered, once the world realized that this pandemic wasn’t just a simple flu and doctors encouraged people to stay home, you hadn’t invited anyone over. It was lonely, and you missed your friends and family greatly, but this wasn’t a situation to take lightly.

“I’m sorry,” you said, opening the door once the fabric mask was securely on. “I think you might have the wrong…”

And you stopped. Stopped talking and stared. Stared at the man leaning against your door frame, wearing a black as ink suit jacket, a pristine white button up shirt was tucked into matching black pants, with the top several buttons undone to reveal a tanned and toned chest that you knew he took pride in considering all the gym selfies he sent. The black fabric mask he wore hid most of his face, but the corners of his eyes were crinkled together.

“I think I’m right where I’m supposed to be,” Changkyun said, his deep voice sounding better in real life than you had expected, and dreamed of.

He pushed off of the frame and it was then that you noticed the things in his hands. In the left, was a plastic bag stuffed with packaged containers, and in the right…in his right wrapped in pink tissue paper was a bouquet of red and pink carnations with babies’ breath mixed in. There had to be at least a dozen, perhaps a baker’s dozen, if not a few extra.

There were no words. After all the books you consumed to pass the time, articles you searched for work, and even countless texts sent to friends, everything escaped you at that very moment because he was here. He was actually here and standing in front of you.

“I know you said you haven’t had anyone over since this started. But I got tested a couple days ago, came back negative, and we’ve both been working from home this entire time so if you want…” Changkyun lifted the bag he held into view and this time, you could see that even though it was triple bagged, you were able to make a red dragon printed on the cartons. “I have Chinese food, and I’m willing to bet that Netflix has something for us to watch. If you’re not comfortable though that’s fine. I have plenty of food that we can—”

Except he didn’t get to finish what he was saying before you tugged him into the apartment by his arm. Immediately, your arms wound their way around his waist and you pressed your face into his chest, tightly hugging him.

“It’s you,” you said, feeling his right arm carefully rest on your back to hold you close, all while being mindful of the flowers that he was carrying.

There was a soft chuckle from above as he laid his head on top of yours. “It’s good to finally see you too.”

Smiling, your arms tightened around him once more before you stepped backwards, letting him enter the apartment completely. “You didn’t have to bring flowers you know.”

“And show up empty handed?”

You gestured towards the table for him to set the food down, taking the flowers and going to the sink. “You bought Chinese food. That more than would have made up for no flowers.” But while the vase filled with water and you trimmed the stems, gently adding them in one by one, there was a warmth spreading within your chest that came right from the heart, even more so when he chuckled. The only people to ever buy you flowers on Valentine’s day were your parents.

Like always, the silence that followed felt natural. The only difference was that you were aware that Changkyun was moving around in the kitchen with you, getting plates and silverware out without having to ask where things were because he had seen you do the same thing countless times before while video chatting. You just never thought he was actually paying attention.

When they were all in the vase, you tossed the ends in the trash and turned around, only to see that once again, he was watching you.

“Why are you staring?”

Changkyun shrugged, running a hand through his hair as the black locks fell right back into his eyes. “I was right.”

Tilting your head, you walked over to the table and set the vase in the center. You were already so close to him, but he leaned his head down, the black fabric of his mask brushing against the top of your ear.

“That you look pretty,” he said softly. “And it’s not because of the makeup. I had a feeling you might dress up today; you look beautiful.”

The air that you had been breathing was instantly stolen, and when you made the mistake of looking up at him, you realized just how close the two of you were. If it weren’t for the masks you both wore…

“You don’t look half bad yourself,” you teased, trying to not glance at where his lips would be. “You’re a lot taller than messenger video makes you out to be.”

He rolled his eyes and scoffed. Straightening up, Changkyun slipped his suit jacket off and set it on the back of a chair to undo the buttons on his cuffs, taking the time to roll each sleeve up to his elbows. “You’re meaner in person.”

Good god. You knew that he worked out, but damn. Maybe not for the first couple weeks, eventually Changkyun fell into the habit of sending selfies while he was working out at the gym. It shouldn’t have been a surprise, but seeing his tanned arms and the white sleeve making its way up to his elbow, it sparked the butterflies and gave them a newfound fluttering energy.

“Do you wanna eat or not?” Not thinking of it, you reached up to unhook the elastic from around your ears, removing the mask and setting it back on the counter. With a glance up at him, you saw him raise an eyebrow before he mimicked your movements to take off his own mask, revealing the jaw that tempted your daydreams in more ways than you wished.

He smiled, and you handed him his plate and together, the two of you fixed up heaping plates of Chinese food, using the concept of needing to eat to distract yourself. Everything was still hot and as you settled on the couch, steam curled its way up into the air.

“Were you able to get your secret plans done today?” You asked, glancing over at him while Netflix loaded up on the TV screen.

“Why are you so interested in what I had to do?” He was focused on the dumpling that he held with the chopsticks, not meeting your gaze at all.

It wasn’t that you meant to be focused on that. But he had acted so suspicious on the phone earlier, and now he was here, having dinner in your apartment with enough Chinese food to cost a small fortune, along with sixteen carnations – yes, you counted while cutting them – on Valentine’s Day. There had been no warning, and as much as you wanted to believe that he was here for more than a friendly drop in, the idea of him having been on a date earlier in the day and was here to talk about it, about the possible other girl, killed the butterflies. You had already been through this once, you didn’t want to go through it again. Not with him.

Scrolling through the list of suggestions, you didn’t notice Changkyun looking over at you, or the way his face softened. His fingers tightened around the chopsticks and he leaned back against the cushion.

“What’s that one about?” He nodded towards one of the movies that was in the watch again section.

You raised an eyebrow, scrolling over to it. “Please don’t tell me that you’ve never seen Love Actually?”

“If I did, would I have asked what it’s about?”

Unable to stop yourself, an undignified sound escaped you as you wildly gestured with the remote. “How? It’s like the sweetest romance, Christmas movie ever. They play it every year. It even has Liam Neeson, the man promising to find and kill everyone, as a sweet dad who doesn’t kill anyone! That alone is a true Christmas miracle by itself.”

The thought of him being with someone else dissipated at the sound of his laughter. Even caught up in the excitement of this particular movie, you couldn’t stop the smile that grew. No matter what, even in real life or over video, you always found yourself grinning the second he laughed or smiled. He was without a doubt contagious, in the best way possible.

“What are you waiting for?” He said, gesturing towards the screen with the chopsticks, shoulders relaxing at the sight of your smile and apparent joy for the film. One that he had in fact, seen a few times over the years. “Press play.”

There was no hesitation. You were determined to culture him in what you deemed to be a classic in romance films. So, as you comfortably settled in, belly growing full of warm and delicious food, you once again missed Changkyun’s wide smile. It was the kind of grin that no matter what he did, or how serious he tried to be, simply wouldn’t go away.

The empty dinner plates sat long forgotten about on the coffee table as another movie played, this one involving an action pack fight scene with aliens in New York City. Hours had passed since Changkyun arrived at your door, and despite it growing late and Valentine’s Day was nearing its end, his polished shoes were unlaced and tossed on the floor. A wine bottle had been opened up, and you sat much closer to him to share a blanket with him. You were blaming it on the wine for being so bold because when he stretched an arm on the back of the couch, you didn’t think twice about gently leaning your head against it.

You couldn’t even really blame it on the wine. It was the first glass for both of you, and you were a slow drinker, so you were as sober as a newborn lamb at the moment.

It was just like when the two of you would video chat with the same movie on, but so much better. Having him here, you were noticing the smallest things that you’d miss when on the phone. At the base of his neck was a small mole that you never realized he had, or that he was wearing two thin silver chains – a pair that, now that you thought about it, he never went without. Behind you, he’d occasionally rub his fingers together and the metal of his bracelet would lightly clink against itself. With the few glances that you stole, his attention was solely on the movie and his jaw appeared to be pressed together.

Feeling a sudden weight, you turned to see him settling his arm around your shoulders. His wrist was now hanging over your arm, and it took all your willpower to not reach up with a free hand to lace your fingers loosely with his. When you glanced back up at him, he was in mid sip of his wine, throat bobbing with each swallow.

Shit. This was not helping the butterflies that seemed to have multiplied since his arrival.

Changkyun raised an eyebrow when he lowered his glass, softly humming in question, but you only shook your head and focused back on the movie. Except, now you were hyper aware that he was looking at you this time.

“What’s wrong?” He murmured, his thumb and fingers lightly rubbing against your arm.

That was another thing. His voice was deep. In the calls, the phone occasionally cracked and had made it seem lighter, but it appeared to be just the opposite. He was blessed with a voice that was able to drop lower than a bass, sending your insides to mush when he spoke. It was the type of voice that was destined to recite poetry and old sonnets, to hold three in the morning conversations that went wherever and everywhere. When he called your name, it never failed to send tingles running the length of your body. It was his voice, and you knew that you’d never grow tired of hearing him talk.

“Nothing. I was just thinking,” you said, leaning your head back, his arm comfortable and warm as you looked up at the ceiling, trying to avoid his gaze for a few seconds.

His fingers didn’t stop. The gentle caress, a small reassurance that he was in fact here and this wasn’t your imagination, made it harder to stay where you sat instead of curling into his side like you wanted.

“Thinking about what?”

Letting out a breathless scoff, you tilted your head towards him. Changkyun was a sight to see and you knew that if this was the only time you got to spend with him in person, you were never going to forget this moment.

Your smile softened. “That you’re actually here, after all these months of texts and video calls. You actually came here, and you’re real.”

“Did you think I was a robot or something?” Changkyun teased, but his fingers stopped moving, and that lock of hair fell back into his eyes again.

“Well, you did accidentally call me instead of Jooheon and last time I checked, we look nothing alike.” There was no thinking as you reached up and mimicked his movements to push that damn lock back, feeling how soft his hair was. It brought you a little bit closer to him and in that second, the world suddenly felt like it was no longer moving when you glanced down at his lips. Those pink lips that you wondered and dreamt about night after night, too curious for your own good on what it would be like to kiss him. Now was your chance to find out, especially when he didn’t lean back and appeared to be getting closer.

“Cookies?” You suddenly asked, leaning back to see his eyebrows start to pull together in confusion. Heart racing, you set your wine glass on the coffee table and walked around the couch to step into the kitchen. With only your back to him, you quietly let out a shaky breath. “I know I have some for us to munch on…”

Opening up a cabinet, you stretched on to your toes to search for the package of cookies that you knew were in there, mentally slapping yourself at having done that. He hadn’t backed away, hadn’t tried to stop you, in fact, if you allowed yourself to believe it, you would have recalled that he had started to lean in when you randomly brought up cookies. As much as you wanted to, the last thing you wanted was to lose your friendship.

You were pushing aside a box of crackers when his hand captured your wrist, halting your search. It felt like your heart was about to leap out of its cage when his fingers gently wrapped around your hand, and when his palm settled on a hip, it was equally as comforting as it lit a spark inside you. There was nothing you wanted to do more than to melt into his embrace.

“Sweetheart, do you really think I’m here to just hang out?” He asked, his voice low as he spoke into your ear, his body stepping closer to yours.

“You’re…you’re not?” You weakly asked, nervous because you didn’t want this all to be a joke.

The idea of this being a one night only thing thanks to the holiday left an ache in your bones. You wanted more nights like this with him, wanted to hear him call out your name with that gentle smile of his over and over again. Dammit, you wanted to wake up and have the blankets be stifling hot but not care as you crawled over to his side of the bed, searching for morning cuddles because fuck the person who decided that the workday would start at eight in the morning. The only person you wanted to spend this quarantine with, to be able to touch, to be worried and even scared about all this with, was Changkyun.

Changkyun’s breath hit the back of your neck as he softly chuckled, sending a shiver down your spine. “God, I thought I was being obvious. Let me try this differently.”

Still holding on to your wrist, he turned you around and once you were facing him, let go of your hand to step closer until your back was against the counter. With each breath your chest brushed against his, and when he pushed the hair that had fallen in your face behind your ear, fingers brushing against your cheek, you almost forgot to breathe.

“I know you’ve always had a pretty crappy Valentine’s day,” Changkyun softly spoke. His gaze was steady with yours, and even though he was being serious, there was a softness to his features that had the corner of his mouth curling upwards. “And I thought that the best way to keep that from repeating this year, would be if you spent it with someone, who loves you.”

Who loves…oh.

It suddenly all made sense. Why he didn’t want to say what he was doing to celebrate, him calling you pretty, the food and flowers, the coaxing touches, he could have rented a billboard and put up a neon flashing sign and you probably still would have been blind.

“Changkyun,” you whispered, reaching up to cup his cheek.

He softly smiled as he closed the remaining space between you to rest his forehead against yours, his palms sliding along your body until he had you wrapped in a hug. “There you go, now you get it.”

Giggling, you rolled your eyes out of habit. It was like him to be a smart ass during a moment like this. With that being said, the butterflies fluttered their way up to your heart, and all the daydreams that you entertained and thought nothing would come of them, now had the possibility of becoming reality.

“I love you too,” you said, running your thumb along his cheek as you watched his smile widen.

There was no hesitation, or smart ass comments this time. Instead, when his lips met yours in a kiss, your heart stopped racing. The butterflies finally calmed down and the world around you went out of focus as your fingers slid through his hair. His lips were soft, and thanks to the red wine, there was a lingering tangy sweetness that reminded you of raspberries. You found yourself becoming addicted to his taste, the kisses melting together until you lost track of how long the two of you stood there, content with doing nothing but being wrapped up in each other’s embrace.

A clock chimed out in the apartment, breaking the kiss which only served to make you pout at the loss of his lips. The gesture didn’t go unnoticed by Changkyun, who smirked before leaning down to give one more kiss, which quickly turned into two, then three.

“Don’t you have work in the morning?” He murmured, resting his forehead once more against yours.

“You trying to kiss and dash?”

His fingers gently pressed into your sides and you squirmed at his touch, giggling at his antics. However, he leaned his head back and sighed. “Like hell I’d do that. But you usually wake up earlier for work, and trust me, I’ll end up keeping you awake if I stay the night.”

There was no doubt about that, and to be truthful, you’d have no issue if that was the case. He was right, but as ideas turned in your mind, you shrugged. “You can’t go out driving though,” you said softly. “You were drinking.”

Changkyun frowned, head tilting as he removed a hand from your back to run through his hair. “Not even a whole glass.”

You raised an eyebrow. It took him having to say he loved you for you to understand how he felt about you despite his dine and wine attempt, and here he was, completely missing what you were suggesting. Either you were absolutely perfect for each other, or equally dense.

“Well, we also broke quarantine,” you said slowly, slipping a finger through his belt loop at the same time to bring him closer. “Isn’t the recommendation to stay at home for what, at least three days?”

He started to tilt his head, mouth opening to question what you were saying until he saw the smile growing on your face. Closing his eyes, he pressed his lips together before looking back at you.

“That was horrible,” Changkyun said. He slipped his arms back around you, pulling you away from the counter. His grin said otherwise. “At least I tried being romantic.”

“Well, I mean, if you really want to go back to your place by yourself…”

He didn’t let you say another word, his lips reclaiming yours again, because there was absolutely nothing that felt better than kissing you after months of dreaming what it would be like.

“Don’t go,” you softly murmured against his lips. “Not when you just got here.”

Maybe it was selfish. But you didn’t want to be alone again. Not when he had gone through so much trouble to make this night special, not when you finally knew that he felt the same way about you. After almost a year of staying inside the apartment whenever you could, of going without hugs or get togethers, being able to touch and kiss Changkyun felt like you were relearning what those were all over again. All you wanted was a few days with him.

Changkyun hummed, his arms tightening around you. “Sweetheart, I wasn’t planning on going anywhere,” he said, gazing down at you as if he had considered the same thing.

The clock that had rang out to announce the hour of a new day and that Valentine’s day was over, continued to quietly tick in the other room. The Earth continued to spin, and outside, the world was exactly how it had been this morning, full of fear, what ifs, and the unknown of a pandemic that didn’t seem to be going anywhere any time soon.

But inside that small apartment, wrapped in Changkyun’s arms, giggles and laughter filled the walls when he pulled you to the middle of the kitchen and spun you around for a late-night dance. It might not be the thing that changes the world, but for the first time, in a long time, hope began to blossom alongside the butterflies in your stomach. The memories of past Valentine’s days melted away at his kiss, until only the memory of him at your door remained.

Even when it hadn’t felt like it, love and hope had always been there. And now it was here promising lovelier days to come.

244 notes · View notes

heauxplesslydevoted · 3 years ago

Note

Hi there! We're changing things up a little this week :)

Not Yet Wed Questions

Note: Great Scott! This week, we are going back in time to MC’s intern year. Think of Ethan’s relationship with them at this point and answer the following questions accordingly. It is entirely up to you when in year 1 this takes place (pre/post Miami, pre/post CH 15, etc). Feel free to answer with dialogue or pictures or both :) Have fun!

No worries. All of this is off the record and HR will never know!

The setting for this answers is:

For Both

When I first saw them, I thought__________

What is your coworker's most used swear word?

Quick: What color are their eyes?

Three people at work your coworker hates?

What is your coworker’s strangest or most endearing quirk?

If they had a crush on anyone at work, who would that be?

(Bonus round! Feel free to skip.)

Never have I Ever:

come into work hungover

had a fistfight

been kicked out of a bar

gotten a tattoo

broken someone’s heart

been in love

For MC (Ethan is not there)

Where do you see him in five years (both professionally and in his personal life?)

What do you find the most impressive about him?

Last thing he texted you?

If he asked you out on a date, what would you say?

For Ethan (MC is not there)

Where do you see him in five years (both professionally and in his personal life?)

What specifically do you find attractive about her?

Last thing she texted you?

If she asked you out on a date, how would you respond?

Alright, post Book 1 but pre-Ethan fleeing to South America Ethan x Naomi coming right up! I feel like that time would have maximum tension because they’re trying to find their footing again after fucking the souls out of each other’s bodies and sending them into orbit, and lowkey falling in love sleeping together, while maintaining professionalism.

~v~

For Both:

When I first saw them, I thought__________

Naomi: I thought “thank God someone else is here!” I was in over my head with that patient, and I didn’t even notice that The Ethan Ramsey was the one assisting me until much later.

Ethan: I thought she had guts. You don’t see too many first day interns that are ready to jump into the fray like she did.

What is your coworker's most used swear word?

Naomi: He says Christ and any iteration of the word damn. Dammit, goddamn, goddammit, you get the gist.

Ethan: She says fuck.

Naomi: You’ve never heard me say that.

Ethan: She says fuck a lot, especially when she’s...*Ethan trails off and catches himself before he finishes that sentence. It’s a moot point all the same because now all he can think about is the young intern in front of him, hands pulling his hair, nails raking down his back, moaning the obscenity into his ear, into his pillows. He awkwardly clears his throat* Just trust me, I’ve heard her say it. Multiple times.

*and now he’s mad at himself*

Quick: What color are their eyes?

Naomi: Blue. They’re kinda hard to miss.

Ethan: Her eyes are brown.

Three people at work your coworker hates?

Naomi: He hates everyone, except for me and Naveen.

Ethan: Except for you? You think pretty highly of yourself, Rookie.

Naomi: Am I wrong? *Ethan doesn’t deny it, instead staying silent and Naomi smirks* Exactly

Ethan: I don’t think she dislikes anyone. I’ve never met a person like her, she makes friends with everyone.

What is your coworker’s strangest or most endearing quirk?

Naomi: He fiddles with his glasses a lot.

Ethan: She’s constantly biting her lip, especially when she’s really focused.

*she’s actually surprised that he picked up on that* Naomi: You notice that?

Ethan: I notice everything...about everything. It’s the nature of the job.

If they had a crush on anyone at work, who would that be?

*they both share an awkward glance before looking away and declining to answer*

Never Have I Ever...

Come into work hungover

Ethan: When I was younger, yes. But now that I’m older, I know my limits.

Naomi: No, because I don’t get hangovers due to my magical hangover cure.

Ethan: That god-awful drink is...surprisingly effective.

*the interviewer asks Ethan to elaborate on the time Naomi gave him whatever her hangover cure is, and he adamantly refuses*

Had a fistfight

Naomi: Yes, but in my defense I was drunk.

Ethan: *snorts* How is that a defense?

Naomi: I’m the daughter of an attorney, I usually try to resolve my issues with my words. But drunk Naomi is a little feistier.

Ethan: You mean you have a level of feistiness that I’ve yet to see?

Naomi: Oh yeah. Anyway, I was in college, I was drunk at a bar, someone spilled a drink on me, and it escalated. I think I broke her nose.

Ethan: An arrest record wasn’t on your file when we hired you.

Naomi: Like I said, I’m the daughter of an attorney, and the granddaughter of a DC judge. That has its perks.

Ethan: Yes, I’ve gotten into a fist fight before. I punched Nash in the face. And before that, i fought my old med school roommate.

Naomi: Ooh, what did he do?

Ethan: That’s not a story I’d ever divulge while sober.

Been kicked out of a bar

Naomi: Yes. Circle back to the previous question.

Ethan: No, because I’m an adult.

Gotten a tattoo

Ethan: Absolutely not

Naomi: I have a tattoo of the Cancer symbol on my left hip. It’s my zodiac sign.

*this stuns Ethan into silence because he’s seen her naked on more than one occasion and been...very well acquainted with the body parts below her waist, and for the life of him cannot remember a tattoo*

Broken someone’s heart

Naomi: No. At least, I don’t think so. I’ve had my heart broken, if that counts.

Ethan: Same as Naomi. I don’t think I have.

*they make a pointed effort to not make eye contact with each other, and Naomi bites down on her lip, letting the silence hang in the air. The alternative would be informing Ethan that he has indeed broken someone’s heart, and that just won’t do.*

Been in love

Naomi: I don’t know. Maybe? I thought I was in love with my med school boyfriend, but now that time has passed, I know that wasn’t love. At least, not the good kind. And there was a near miss after him, but nothing came out of it. The emotions were a lot stronger the second time around though, and i think it’s the closest I’ve come to it this far. I’m a hopeless romantic, so I hope I find it someday.

Ethan: No. Call me a cynic, but I just don’t see love as something that’s feasible and attainable. Putting that much trust and dependency in another person is not realistic.

For Naomi (Ethan is not there)

Where do you see him in five years (both professionally and in his personal life?)

Naomi: I don’t know what’s left for a man like Ethan Ramsey. He’s already done so much in the field of medicine, unless he reinvents the entire wheel and turns it upside down, which I can see him doing. I can see him writing more, publishing more research, and of course winning more awards. If he wasn’t so anti-administration, he could be running this place. Or maybe he’ll start his own non-profit.

Naomi: As far as his personal life, I don’t know. You heard loud and clear that he doesn’t really believe in love. I hope one day he changes his mind or finds a companion, because underneath his extremely prickly exterior, he’s one of the best men I know and he has a heart of gold. He deserves the chance to let someone take care of it for him.

What do you find the most impressive about him?

Naomi: From afar, Ethan seems very larger than life, but I think the most impressive thing about him is his dedication to not just medicine, but his patients. I’ve never seen him not go above and beyond for someone he was treating.

Last thing he texted you?

Naomi: “Please consult Diana in HR regarding your official diagnostic team fellowship application. I know this year has been unorthodox to say the least, but there are still some steps that must be taken before the start of your second year. Thank you.”

Naomi: I’ve never received a text message that long.

If he asked you out on a date, what would you say?

*her cheeks heat up furiously and she pulls her bottom between her teeth before answering, her eyes bright and watery*

Naomi: Am I a total glutton for pain for saying I’d jump at the chance?

For Ethan (Naomi is not there)

Where do you see her in five years (both professionally and in her personal life?)

Ethan: Dr. Valentine has so much potential and she’s going to be one of the greats. She’s going to be running the diagnostics team if she chooses to stay at Edenbrook, and I can’t see Naveen not trying to keep her here. She’s going to win awards, have awards named after her, publish research, lead trials, whatever. I hate to sound banal and cliche, but the sky really is the limit for her. I chose her for a reason, and I plan her helping her reach all of that potential.

Ethan: As for her personal life, I don’t know. Hopefully she finds someone that’s good enough for her.

What specifically do you find attractive about her?

Ethan: A-attractive? *the word comes out in a squeak, but he coughs to cover it up* Why on earth would you assume that I’m attracted to her?

*he goes on a ridiculously long tangent about how inappropriate it is to be attracted to your coworkers, especially your subordinates, and how he would never jeopardize Naomi’s career on something as trivial as attraction, and anyone with an ounce of common sense can tell that he doth protest too much*

Ethan: But if I absolutely had to pick something besides her good looks, it’d be her spirit. She’s warm and empathetic and optimistic, and I’ve never seen someone care as much as she does.

Last thing she texted you?

Ethan: “👍” I sent her a message about her upcoming fellowship and she sent back a thumbs up. Just that. I was a little annoyed.

If she asked you out on a date, how would you respond?

Ethan: As um...flattering as that might be, I would say no. I am an attending, she’s an intern, my soon to be fellow. That is crossing too many ethical lines, lines I refuse to breach.

Ethan: And I would say no because Naomi is...just a good person. And maybe I’m being biased, but I don’t know if anyone will ever be truly worthy of her. But I can say without a shadow of a doubt that she deserves so much better than me or what I could give her.

#ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #newlyweds game with your host bree

32 notes · View notes

likehandlingroses · 4 years ago

Text

“Realistic” Tom/Thomas Relationship Timeline

The S3/S4 Tom/Thomas affair is a theory that has been making its way around lately, and it is centered around the contrast in the interactions between Thomas and Tom during the Season 3 Christmas Special and their interactions in the Season 4 Christmas Special.

This means that usually the start of the relationship is viewed as coinciding with the immediate aftermath of Matthew’s death, which occurs in the Christmas Special of Season 3 (September 1921). Due to the interactions between Tom and Thomas in the Christmas Special of Season 4, the relationship can almost certainly be considered over by that time (May-ish of 1923). But what happened in between, and how long were they actually together? There’s one view that the affair occurs in between Seasons 3 and 4, which means that at the very longest they lasted just under six months (generally I think this view cuts it even shorter than that)...but this leaves some unanswered questions and some peculiarities, so I took another look at the canon to determine when, in fact, Thomas and Tom broke up.

(Note: I definitely know that Julian Fellowes did not intend for them to be having an affair, but also Julian if I’m right just DM me)

Let’s start with what we know about September 1921 and May 1923—the definite before and after points—for reference:

Christmas Special Season 3—September, 1921

In this Christmas special, we see Tom left behind while the rest of the family goes to Duneagle, and we see Thomas still dealing with the Jimmy situation a year after its apparent resolution. On its face, this episode features Tom being challenged in his new role in the house—and being encouraged to step up and face that role—and Thomas finding a way to resolve things with Jimmy.

Except there’s a whole lot of other stuff going on in the periphery of those stories: Tom knows that Jimmy is bothering Thomas and appears to want to intervene at the fair, but he is stopped by Edna, who at one point uses Thomas’s injuries as an excuse to visit Tom and assure him that Thomas is “feeling much better.” And—of course—there’s the fact that Tom and Thomas hug at the fair (and lest you think this was a RJC/Allen Leech moment not caught by editing, it was in multiple takes! Someone—multiple someones actually—included it on purpose). They are friendly, aware of each other, and to be honest it isn’t impossible to argue that maybe the relationship predates Matthew’s death! I’m going to argue otherwise, however, based on how Tom breaks down when Edna kisses him—I think Edna is the first time he’s even really thought of himself in romantic terms for a long time! But Thomas is right there in the wings, and he just finally made some progress on the emotional problem that’s been plaguing him for over a year!

It’s a big difference from what we see in the next Christmas special, big enough to start the theory of the affair in the first place...

Season 4 Christmas Special—Summer 1923

Once again, Tom is left alone at Downton while the rest of the family goes to London...and the difference in how Thomas responds is striking. He’s furious at having to wait on Tom, for reasons both we and the characters cannot quite understand. The excuses don’t add up—at this point, Tom has been living at Downton for three YEARS, and this has never been a problem before. Now all of a sudden Thomas is slamming trays and clenching his fists and provoking Tom into admitting that he sees himself as Above sitting next to him...what?

Then there’s Sarah Bunting, a Miss Sarah Bunting...whose presence infuriates Thomas while also making him eager to use her as a way to embarrass Tom. And Tom knows it, immediately. He’s embarrassed, he’s uncomfortable, but still he’s quick to pull rank with Thomas when challenged. Something has fundamentally altered the way they interact with and perceive each other while sharing the same space.

All of this speaks to a breakup, and a messy one at that...so with the knowledge we have, WHAT exactly happened between September of 1921 and May of 1923? Let’s look at what Season 4 has to say:

4.1/4.2–February, 1922

“That’s right: it’s Valentine’s Day.”

This is an important piece of the puzzle, because Thomas—Nanny West drama aside—is in a pretty good mood for the Valentine’s Day episode! He engages with Daisy and Jimmy’s Valentine’s card drama with good humor and even some genuine interest...something I do not believe he’d do if he’d only recently been broken up with, and by someone who lived in the house! The big one here, though, is the dialogue Thomas has with Nanny West in which she calls him “Thomas” and he says, “that’s Mr. Barrow to you...”

Now, where did Nanny West hear him referred to as Thomas? The episode makes a point of the fact that nannies do not as a rule spend much time with the downstairs staff—and even if they did, not many of the downstairs crew call Thomas “Thomas” on a regular basis. Nor do the upstairs folks...with one notable exception. Tom, who has to be reminded by Thomas in 4.3 to address him as “Barrow” (more on that later), routinely messes up names and titles.

To me, this suggests that Tom and Thomas are still talking, and it’s pretty clear from Thomas’s attentions to Sybbie in the episode that it would have been easy for Nanny West to overhear it in that context. Now, this doesn’t necessarily mean that they’re still seeing each romantically, but the “Mr. Barrow TO YOU” element implies that the correction was NOT made to whoever Nanny West heard using the name (we presume it’s Tom)...and the distinction is that Nanny West does not *get* to call him that! It definitely seems like whoever she grabbed the name from has been granted permission to do that, and she Has Not. And if it’s Tom...well.

So does that mean that Thomas and Tom were done by 4.3, when Thomas DOES correct Tom on his title? Not exactly...

4.3/4.4–The House Party (pre July 1922)

(tw on this section for discussions involving sexual assault)

The party features Edna’s schemes and assault on Tom in order to extract a promise of marriage from him. It also features a Tom who is incredibly vulnerable and entirely out of his element with the introduction of the Crawley’s friends. This is somewhat of a contrast from the Tom of the first two episodes, who stands up to Robert several times to intervene on Mary’s behalf, and even ropes Carson into the mission. It feels, for a moment, that despite Matthew’s death Tom has taken up the challenge presented to him at the end of Season 3 and begun seeing himself as a valuable, contributing member of the household and family.

But here, Tom speaks of himself as a fool, as walking a tightrope, and of not being understood. He relies on alcohol to get through the event, which Edna takes advantage of—and which gives us a Tom/Thomas interaction that speaks to, in my opinion, a continuing relationship (although perhaps an altering one):

Now, if I had to guess, I would say that Tom might be less *keen* than usual, given his overall demeanor and the new scrutiny placed on him by Edna coming back to the house (not to mention the house party itself). It’s very possible there’s been a lull between the two of them as of late. I do not believe, however, that there is evidence of a clear break between Tom and Thomas as of the house party.

For one, Tom doesn’t just say the wrong thing when addressing Thomas in the drawing room—he says, “Thomas, would you get me a drink for God’s sake?” That is Not how he talks to him in the Christmas Special, where he is stilted and uncomfortable and concerned about how the words will be taken. He isn’t worried about any of that, and while Thomas corrects him, he doesn’t seem all that bothered by it. Tom’s look of irritation at the correction isn’t overdone either.

“It’s Barrow now,” also has flexible meanings. Of course it literally is what Tom is supposed to call him now...but “now” seems like a weird word to use when it’s been what Thomas is meant to be called for several years. It could be a post-breakup smackdown, but we’ve seen what those look like in the Christmas Special, and this doesn’t feel like that! I believe, rather, that Thomas is making reference to the fact that it is incorrect at that moment, something Tom should know and has been discussed!!!

The house party has both of them overworked and tense (this is also the time where Thomas has to fill in for Jimmy because Jimmy hurt his hand...which is SO ridiculous if you think about it for more than two seconds), but Edna’s transgression still draws Thomas’s attention

And that’s important! Thomas had been friends with Edna until this point, largely for convenience it seems—she is a new lady’s maid, and she can feed him information. Thomas even worked with her to mess with Anna, who had earlier made a comment to Edna about his intentions in befriending her. There’s a bond forming there, and while I don’t believe Thomas would genuinely support the literal details of Edna’s plot, I don’t think it’s a foregone conclusion that he would be Opposed to Edna taking advantage of what she would frame as an indiscretion on Tom’s part. Not if he disliked Tom or was predisposed to believe Tom was at fault (ie: someone who expects to be “waited on Hand and Foot while he decides what Might Please Him Next”).

But right away, Thomas is suspicious the morning after. We see Thomas spying on Edna as she corners Tom, and he specifically brings it up to her later to catch her out. Already his tone is soured where she’s concerned. He’s sensed she’s up to something and he can probably guess the vague idea if not the particulars...and it turns him against her almost instinctively.

So what’s that about? Could it just be jealousy? The thing is, we know what Thomas would do if he believed that Edna and Tom were simply having an affair—we see what happens in the S4 Christmas Special with Sarah Bunting. This isn’t like that at all.

Thomas immediately blames Edna for what’s happened, calling her a manipulative little witch and declaring that he’s delighted her plans didn’t work. There’s no question of Thomas’s loyalties, even though Edna assumes he’ll want to “keep in with” her. Not for one second does he appear to consider this, and that seems to distinguish this incident from later ones.

4.5/4.6–What Are These Episodes (pre-July 1922)

There isn’t a lot to remember about these episodes for Tom or Thomas, and so what people may not remember is that these are the episodes Tom starts floating the idea of leaving for America—a full season before he tries starting that conversation again, and over two years before he actually DOES temporarily move to Boston. Now, that kind of decision takes time, but it’s kind of...strange that he begins making it here in the spring of 1922 and will not seriously consider it again until well into 1924!

Whether this has anything at all to do with Thomas can’t be determined, but I do enjoy hearing Tom say it will be impossible for him to marry anyone at Downton because an upper class woman won’t have him, and would an “nice Irish working class girl” make everyone “comfy?”...and Thomas is standing Right There! What does it mean...

Thomas is also getting more paranoid, he’s got Baxter in the house feeding him information...and he’s generally giving off a different vibe than he has all season.

Here is where I think the connection is starting to see some serious cracks—Tom is realizing he doesn’t belong and is making moves to change that. Meanwhile, Thomas is making moves to ensure Nothing Ever changes without him knowing about it ahead of time! Tension abounds, though we don’t see any evidence of it being directed at each other just yet...

4.7/4.8–Interesting and Modern (July 1922)

Thomas goes to America and Tom meets Miss Bunting...weird how that just happened like that!

Thomas is excited to go to New York, and it seems...pretty clear he fucked while he was there. I think if you’re gay and you go to New York in the 1920s and you come back and all you can tell your coworkers is that it was “interesting and modern” you definitely were not doing anything you can actually talk about

Now, that doesn’t necessarily mean that he and Tom are Done (they may not have ever been exclusive on paper), but the overall feeling from Tom is a dejected man in limbo...he can’t even say he’s a Socialist anymore. It’s not going well. So my inclination is to say that Tom hit pause (maybe not for the first time), and Thomas is dealing with it by getting some in New York (great!) and bullying his coworkers (bad!) So why do I think they weren’t totally done at that time? Because these episodes happen in the summer of 1922...the Christmas Special for S4 takes place in May of 1923. That’s a long time to have passed! A long time for Tom to keep Miss Bunting at arm’s length, a long time for Thomas to be fuming over something...I believe that in the Christmas Special what we are seeing is the last stand of two people who are grappling with finally cutting a fraying thread.

Another Look At The S4 Christmas Special

These scenes are truly some of the most incomprehensible things Downton Abbey ever presented to us with virtually no explanation. So let’s take another look at what’s happening here.

First of all, we have the scene with Tom and Thomas entering the house after sending Edith off and leaving Tom offically on his own--they don’t appear openly hostile, though there’s some tense looking when the other person isn’t and looking back down again when they are energy...but nothing egregious.

Not until we see Thomas slam down a tray, that is. In fact, this whole thing seems to be coming from Thomas’s anger, while Tom appears eager to just smooth it over by not causing trouble and following the rules set forth by the household norms. This seems in line with Tom’s general dispositon--with both Edna and Miss Bunting he tries to ease out rather than break things off.

But Thomas interprets this as dismissive, and while he says to Ivy it’s about their positions in the house...as discussed above this really doesn’t logically check out. I do think it irritates him that Tom is essentially avoiding Thomas because it’s what “pleases him,” but it runs deeper than “he used to be the chauffeur.” Because that was always the case.

And then Tom brings Miss Bunting back without telling anyone, and he takes her upstairs. And this makes Thomas INSANE, and Tom knows IMMEDIATELY that it will! And Tom is eager to assure “Mr. Barrow” that nothing happened (actually, what he’s really eager to do is have Thomas not stand there while he eats, but Thomas is not budging).

Thomas is furious. He’s said to Ivy that he is SICK of this man, he’s tired of dealing with him...and then he tries to get Tom to sit next to him the car?

Thomas stole a dog one time, and I still think this might be his wildest attempt at controlling a situation we see on the show. What is going on? If Tom HAD let him sit in the back, would Thomas have still gone to Lord Grantham about Miss Bunting? If Thomas hadn’t been such a jerk about Miss Bunting, would Tom have LET him? What is poor Ivy even processing this as? Am I the only one hearing Taylor Swift’s Better Than Revenge playing?

Thomas acts immediately on coming to London, dropping the line of “Mr. Branson is stil a young man, and he can’t be expected to stay single forever”...he’s Angry Angry!! If they were on a break before, I don’t think it had fully set in for Thomas that it might be Permanent until now. And I think Tom’s newly avoidant personality we see in other scenarios gave him the wrong impression in this respect.

In Summary

I think that the relationship was relatively “on” from the period of September 1921 through whenever the house party took place. The house party caused some huge issues, mostly for Tom (understandably)—he may have unfairly blamed himself for what happened and drew wrongful parallels to what’s happening with Thomas. I think that after that it was very “off,” but I believe that neither Thomas nor Tom really committed to ending it either...and when we see them in 1923 they are in the peak stages of finally facing the end of things.

So what caused the final shift? Perhaps Thomas came back from New York with expectations, expectations Tom found himself intimidated by. Perhaps Thomas’s increasing paranoia and Tom’s growing agnosticism towards his own beliefs and identity are related and fed off of each other until they both just did not like the person they were seeing! Maybe it’s just that Downton Abbey is a really bad place for both of them, and even though they started off trying to protect each other from that, they got sucked in and turned on each other!

In any case, by Season 5 the romantic relationship appears over for good, though there is some evidence in later episodes that Tom and Thomas settled down a bit over time (Thomas defending Tom in S5 at Brancaster, and Tom saying he hates goodbyes in reference to Thomas).

We will just have to see what happens when they realize they both are dating someone new, and they work together too :)

#this is way too long to actually be Fun but to be clear I did it for Fun #anything to avoid actually writing #thomas barrow #tom branson

123 notes · View notes

unlikelymilkshakedream · 4 years ago

Text

A/n: sorry this took a little longer than usual, I had a huge project for one of my classes that was the only thing on my mind for like a week. Here is part 2 to the charlie weasley story I made a while ago. Hope you enjoy!

**Flash forwards 7 months to the week before valentines day**

Love was thick in the air at Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry the week before valentines day, not only were people excited to spend the day with their loved ones, but the big school dance was atop everyone's minds.

It was no different for Y/N Y/L/N and Charlie Weasley. The couple was now into their 7th month of dating and they were absolutely head over heels for each other, let alone in the time of valentines day.

In the 7 months they've been together, they of course got to all the things couples do. Sneaking around at 2am, stealing kisses in the hallways between classes, driving their friends up a wall because they couldn't stop fawning over each other, you name it.

Their friend sof course, were beyond happy for them, seeing as they were placing bets on if this year would finally be the year they go together, (of course, Barnaby had lost.)

Now coming up on valentines day, you could guess they already had a date planned.

"Y/n?" Charlie said one afternoon on their way to charms class.

"Yes charlie?" She said with the biggest grin on her face.

"I was just wondering what color my tie should be so it can match your dress at the dance." He said with that mischievous smirk.

"Hmm, I didn't know i was going to the dance, no one has asked me yet." She said looking around for someone who wasn't there.

"Ahh, fantastic! Then there won't be any competition." Charlie said as he magically pulled flowers from behind his back. "Y/n y/l/n, would you do my the honors and go to the valentines day dance with me?" He bent down as if he was curtsying.

"Why yes charlie weasley, I would love to." He stands up and kisses her cheek just as they hear a round of applause. Both turning find their friends, Penny, Rowan, Ben and Andre standing down the corridor from them.

"Congrats guys, now come on, we don't want to be late." Rowan exclaims. The couple laughs and pecks each other's lips, heading off in the direction of their class.

As y/n sits down next to her best friend Rowan, she feels a nudge in her ribs. "What Rowan?"

"Will you go to hogsmeade with me Penny, and tonks later? I'm pretty sure we're going to buy dresses. It could be a fun girls day."

"Of course Rowan, I would love to." She says with a huge grin on her face. She turns to charlie, who is talking with Ben.

"Well charlie, I known dragons are fascinating to you, but to me, I can't imagine a more terrifying things." She laughs interrupting their conversation.

"Well ben, I promise you charlie would not let one harm you." She turns towards charlie. "Hey im gonna go to hogsmeade with the girls tomorrow." He smiles

"Okay, I'll miss you." She laughs.

"Charlie ill be gone for a few hours. You'll be fine." He sighs but agrees.

The next day, y/n, tonks, Penny, and Rowan are making their way down to the village, intending on heading to the dress shop, when a snowball comes flying at tonks head. Everyone stops and turns to see Andre, Ben, Barnaby and Bill picking up snow.

The girls laugh it off and pick snow up as well, engaging in a snowball fight that the girls are clearly winning. Y/n throws one directly and Barnabys head which hits him dead in the face signaling the defeat of the boys with a tremendous roar of laughter.

As the girls say goodbye to the boys and make their way into the dress shop, to the dislike of the owner since they were wet from the snow, they are all having great times.

"I don't think I've ever seen Barnaby that shocked since when you hit him y/n." Tonks say with a roar of laughter. She laughs.

"Yeah, he didn't know what was coming ro him." They all laugh together.

"Hello ladies, what are we shopping for today?" The owner comes over and looks at the group of girls.

"Well, we would all like to purchase dresses for an upcoming ball, preferably color coordinated, although maybe not y/n since she of course has to match with her date." Penny explains with a smirk in y/n's direction.

"I see, well what colors would you like?" The women asks the girls.

"Well for me, I think red would be the best option, since charlies favorite color is red. Do you have a burgundy or wine color dress?" Y/n finishes as the owner smiles and goes to the back to look.

"Of course, charlie would love to see you in burgundy, although, I bet he already has seen more than that." Penny says with a huge smirk on her face. She of course is talking about the 2am adventure y/n and charlie took an abandoned corridor, and did some things... (ill stop there so not every single piece of mine is smut;)

Y/ns cheeks turn a deep shade of red as the owner comes back with multiple dresses to try on. A few hours later, the girls were satisfied with their purchases, y/n choosing a beautiful burgundy dress that extenuated her figure nicely, and her friends with blue dresses that all looked amazing on them.

When they got back to the castle, they went to their common rooms and decided to get some rest, as it was quite late, considering they took forever to try on dresses.

The next morning, y/n met charlie in the common room and they walked to breakfast together.

"So, you never answered my question a couple days ago." Charlie started. "What color tie shall I be wearing?" He said with a grin.

Y/n laughed at that. "I won't reveal too much, but I would go with a dark red to match my drop dead gorgeous dress." He laughed

"Ooh I can't wait." They held as hands as they walked into breakfast.

The morning of the dance was filled with sunshine through y/n's window. It was a Saturday and she was going to get ready with her friends for the ball the evening.

She started the day by getting breakfast and listening to her favorite songs. By nightfall, she was with all her friends, getting ready to have charlie drooling over her.

"Y/n, show us your beautiful dress." She went into the changing room and got on her dress, which looked amazing with her curled hair. She walked out and everyone turned to her.

"Holy shit y/n/n, you look amazing." She giggled, "thanks Rowan. Come on everyone get dressed so we can go to this thing." Within an hour everyone was making their way downstairs at 7:30pm as the dance started at 8pm.

When all the girls were downstairs at the entrance of the ball, y/n got nervous.

"Y/n, what's wrong?" Rowan asked her best friend as she had yet to enter the hall.

"I don't know Rowan, i just, what if charlie doesn't like it? What if I fall on my face like an idiot, what if-"

"Hey, hey, hey, just take a deep breathe, okay? Girl you look so beautiful you don't even know, charlie is so in love with you that he is going to think you look good no matter what. You're beautiful and you don't need to stress like this. Okay? Come on." Y/n smiled at her.

"Thanks Rowan, you're the best friend ever." They hugged and y/n entered the hall, all eyes turning towards her and Rowan. Charlies mouth dropped open and bill had to quickly shut if for him. Y/n giggled at that as she made her way over to him.

"Y/n, you look, amazing." Charlie smiled. "Thank you, you don't look too bad yourself red." He offered you his arm and you took it. Walking into the dance with Charlie, you felt such euphoria, you were with all of your friends and your boyfriend, it was the perfect night.

"Y/n, may I have this dance?" Charlie asked, standing from the table where his friends sat.

"Ah, such a gentleman. Of course charlie." She smiled at her friends as they waved.

As the couple took their place on the dance floor, they felt so in love with each other.

"You look so beautiful tonight y/n, I love this dress on you." She giggled.

"Thank you charlie, you look dashing as well." She said as she leaned in to kiss him, which he reciprocated almost immediately.

"Wow, y/n, that was,"

"Amazing." The two moved closer to each other as they danced, her head on his shoulder.

"I love you y/n." She froze in her place. He felt it and pulled away. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that, we're so young and i-" he didn't get to finish as she pulled him for a kiss.

"Its okay charlie, I love you too." He smiled as they continued dancing, into the most perfect night ever.

A/n: okay, this one is not as good as the first, sorry! But I hope you liked it, I think it's cute. Warning, next chapter there will be ANGST!heart break and sadness lies ahead lol. Please let me know what you thinked of this chapter, it means a lot to me <3

#charlie weasley #charlie weasley x reader #charlie weasley x mc #charlie weasley fluff #charlie weasley imagine #hphm mc #hphm au #barnaby lee #nymphadora tonks #penny haywood #rowan khanna #bill weasley

77 notes · View notes

misscorn · 4 years ago

Text

Day 3

Winter/Rings

This one is extra late oops lol @sihjrweek THIS ALSO TOOK ENTIRELY TOO LONG TO WRITE SO ITS NOT PROOFREAD SO IF U SEE A MISTAKE NO U DIDNT

***

"Anchan's birthday is in a week." Onodera Youko said, currently sitting at the dinner table across from her son, her husband absent.

Ritsu nodded as he pushed his food around on his plate. He was fully aware that March 14th, An's birthday, was fast approaching, but not for the reasons his mother was hoping. No, it was because March 14th was also White Day. Ritsu was both severely stressed and excited about it.

Ritsu planned on going on an aquarium date with his Senpai after school, thinking it'd be a little more special than their typical bookstore-pandaway combo. Not that Ritsu disliked this pattern at all! He just wanted to do something different for the holiday.

Then, they'd go back to Ritsu's house where the brunette would prepare dinner. His parents weren't going to be home since his dad always took his mother on a trip for White Day from the 14th to the 17th, so he figured it was the perfect time to finally invite Saga Senpai to his house! He had already started practicing cooking and baking the day after Valentine's Day. He figured he'd need as much practice as he could get, seeing as he had never done either of them before, but he was definitely improving!

Ritsu intended on making white chocolate chip cookies as a gift. Although his Senpai didn't particularly like sweets, it was tradition to give something white. So, he'd give the cookies in addition to some bitter dark chocolates that Saga was more likely to enjoy. Additionally, he'd give a white rose, since his Senpai had given him a red one and he thought it would be a sweet gesture to mirror. And...perhaps the most embarrassing and overkill gift idea of all: a jar full of paper origami stars that, when unfolded, have reasons he loves Saga written on them. His Senpai had asked him once before why he loved him and Ritsu simply didn't have the time or the courage to say all the reasons to his face, but he could definitely write them down!

"What do you plan on doing for her birthday?" Youko asked, interrupting Ritsu's thoughts about his string of plans.

"Oh, well, since it lands on a school day we were going to hangout over the weekend instead." Ritsu said. "But, I'm not really sure what to get her..." He admitted.

"Why don't you just spend time with her after school? It's not as special if you celebrate after her birthday's already passed. Plus, it's White Day. She did give you something on Valentine's day, didn't she?" Youko said. She recalled Ritsu coming home on Valentine's day, giddy and flushed as he held tupperware full of homemade chocolates. An was really such a sweet girl, going through the trouble of making the chocolates herself.

Ritsu felt a swirl of dread start to form in his stomach, recognizing his mother's tone. "Yes, but mother-"

"Its the polite and gentlemanly thing to do. Imagine; not spending White Day with your fiancée and to make matters worse, blowing off her birthday as well!" Youko said.

"Mother-"

"And as for what you can get her, I have a great idea." Youko smiled brightly. "Promise rings! Such a cute and meaningful gift, she'd love it." Youko continued.

"Anchan and I aren't a couple!" Ritsu did not mean to raise his voice, but his frustrations of being talked over got the best of him.

Youko's cheerful demeanor left her. "Don't be ridiculous, Ritsu. You and Anchan are a perfect match. She is a lovely, intelligent, kind girl from a fine background and she undoubtedly adores you. What more could you ask for?"

"Mother, I..." Ritsu trailed off and frowned. "I just-I don't like her that way!"

"You won't even give it a chance! Who could possibly be a better fit for you than Anchan?"

"I'm only fifteen, why do we have to start talking about marriage now?" Ritsu desperately wished his mother would let this go, but his mother was just as stubborn as he was.

"Because your future is important and should matter to you, Ritsu." Youko said. "You are spending White Day with Anchan and that's final. If you'd like, I can help you pick out a pair of promise rings." She offered, the happy tilt in her voice returning as she tried to force the conversation back on track.

Ritsu just mumbled something in assent in order to stop this awful conversation, fully intending on avoiding that little ring shopping trip. Let his mother believe that he would spend White Day with Anchan. What she didn't know wouldn't hurt her.

Ritsu tried to act normal around his Senpai for the rest of the week, (well, his version of normal, which was already a certain level of nervousness) but he could hardly contain himself.

"You're being weird." Saga commented on March 12th. Exactly 1 day, 8 hours, 14 minutes and 25 seconds before 12 A.M. on White Day. Yes, Ritsu was counting.

"S-S-Sorry, I just-um-I-I had something I wanted to ask you." Okay, this was it, deep breaths Onodera, deep breaths. "I was wondering if you w-wanted to...spendWhiteDaywithme?" Ritsu squeezed his eyes shut tight as he waited for an answer.

"...What the hell?"

Well, that wasn't a good sign.

"I thought we were already spending White Day together." Saga said. "Or did you forget what you said?"

"N-n-no, of course not, the opposite actually, I've been thinking about White Day nonstop and what I should do, what would be a fun date, what sort of presents I should get you-"

Saga glanced around the library to make sure they were alone as Ritsu rambled before he cut him off with a gentle kiss.

Ritsu blinked a few times, dazed and completely embarrassed, but undeniably happy.

"So, tell me these ideas you've been thinking about 'nonstop'." Saga echoed.

"Well, I want some of it to be a surprise." Ritsu said after he managed to get his thoughts back in order. "But I thought it'd be fun if after school we went to an aquarium together and then...my house for dinner."

"Your house?" Saga was surprised to say the least, his normally stoic face for once betraying him.

"U-Unless that's not okay?" Ritsu said, automatically assuming the worst, as he typically did. "We don't have to go to my house, we can do something else-"

"No, you can't take back the offer now. I'm coming to your house." Saga said quickly. He was endlessly curious about Ritsu's home and more specifically Ritsu's room, so he'd be damned if he let this opportunity slip by him.

Ritsu smiled a little and nodded before he became shy. "And um...my parents won't be home...s-so..."

"Ahhhhh, I see. Who knew you were such a pervert?" Saga teased, but his straight face and serious tone gave no hint to his playfulness.

If it were possible for humans to combust into flames on the spot, Ritsu would have done so. The younger teen shook his head vehemently as he made frantic and wild hand gestures. "No! I-I didn't mean it like-I'm not-!"

"I was just messing with you." Saga smirked a little bit. Normally he didn't really joke around like this, but Ritsu's reactions were priceless. Even in the beginning of their relationship Saga would never say something like that, but Ritsu managed to get deeper and deeper into his heart every day and break down more and more walls.

Ritsu's whole face was red, including the very tips of his ears. He looked away out of embarrassment, not knowing what to say.

Chu

Ritsu swore his body somehow heated up even more after Saga leaned forward to press a kiss on the back of his head.

"I'm looking forward to White Day. It'll be fun." Saga said. "I'm expecting to be impressed."

"Y-You're teasing me again." Ritsu complained.

'It's not my fault you make it so easy.' Saga thought.

White Day was sure to be fun this year and hopefully for many years to come.

...Or maybe not.

The day had started off fine, completely normal in fact. When Ritsu woke up his parents were already gone. They always left early in the morning.

Ritsu was completely exhausted. He had stayed up all night, excited and anxious about White Day, but Ritsu's exhaustion caused him to miss the small box and a note left for him in the kitchen.

It was such an innocent item with good intentions behind it.

It was a thoughtful gift that would surely be cherished.

It was going to ruin everything.

Ritsu had already made the cookies last night and had the dark chocolate, keeping both of them stored in his kitchen. He'd also purchased a white rose the previous day, telling his mother it was for Anchan when she asked about it. It probably didn't help to feed into the insane fantasy his mother had, but he didn't have any other excuses. The jar of stars was also hidden in his room underneath his bed. He'd spent at least 4 or 5 days making them all. He planned on giving Saga these gifts in privacy later today.

As the day went on, Ritsu started to think that maybe it would have been better for him just to cut class since he wasn't able to focus at ALL! An agonizing 7 hours later and he was released from his class, hurrying out front where he and Saga had agreed to meet after school.

Ritsu beat the older teen to the entrance, waiting for him as patiently as he could, unable to contain his bright smile once he saw him

'Damn it, why does he have to smile at me like that? I don't know if I'm going to survive today.' Saga thought as he walked over. "Hey."

"Hi, Senpai! H-Happy White Day..." Ritsu said, the latter half coming out a little quieter so no passing students would hear.

"No gift?" Saga didn't actually care about a present, excited to just spend the afternoon with Ritsu, but he couldn't pass the opportunity to mess with him.

"S-Senpai, don't tease me!" Ritsu complained with a pout. Shit, that expression wasn't good for Saga's heart. "They're at my house. But come on, let's go!" Ritsu's excitement returned to him quickly as he set off. Saga followed.

The aquarium was a little busy, so it didn't give Saga many opportunities to sneak attack Ritsu with PDA, but he still enjoyed himself. Of course, he watched Ritsu more than he watched the actual animals, but it was still a good choice for a date spot.

When they finally did have a moment alone, Saga reached out, gently taking Ritsu's hand into his. "Thanks for bringing me here."

Ritsu blushed, but felt electrified by the touch. "Of course, Senpai. I'm glad you're having fun." He smiled.

Saga couldn't deny he was enjoying himself, but what he was REALLY looking forward to was finally being in Ritsu's house! He had his own preconceived notions about Ritsu and how he lived, so he was curious about how right or wrong he was. And the hormonal teenager in him wanted to do it in Ritsu's bed.

But, when they finally left the aquarium and arrived at Ritsu's home, Saga wished that he had jumped into a damn fish tank instead.

Sitting on his Kouhai's porch was the girl who had given Ritsu chocolate on Valentine's day.

"Richan!" She stood when spotting them, looking angry. "Where have you been?" She asked, putting her hands on her hips.

"A-Anchan? What are you doing here?" Ritsu asked, genuinely confused.

"Didn't your mother talk to you? She called my mother and set up for us to spend the day together! For my birthday! We were supposed to meet after school, but you never showed so I came here, but you obviously weren't home." She frowned and crossed her arms.

"No! My mother didn't tell me anything about this." Ritsu said, going up to the front door and taking out his house key to unlock it.

Saga cleared his throat.

"Oh-uh-Anchan, this is Saga Masamune, Saga Senpai, this is Kohinata An." Ritsu hastily introduced them. Crap, this was bad, this was so bad!

"I think I recognize you...you and Richan hang out together at the library, right?" An said.

"Hai." Saga responded blandly.

"Well, it's nice to meet you." An said politely.

"Same." Saga looked away from her and An decided to ignore his rudely aloof nature. A friend of Richan's was a friend of hers, after all.

"Um, well, come in I guess..." Ritsu said before going inside, Anchan following.

What. The. Fuck. This girl already had her chance on Valentine's Day and, according to Ritsu, was rejected. Now she was going to interrupt White Day too? Saga was absolutely pissed, though he tried not to let it show as he walked inside.

"Um, I was going to make dinner, if you want to sit in the living room and relax..." Ritsu said awkwardly. He was with his two favorite people, so this shouldn't have been as bad as it was, but oh boy was it terrible.

"I'll help!" An offered with a smile.

Ritsu tried to insist that it was okay and that she was a guest and that she didn't have to, but An ignored him and marched into the kitchen. Ritsu couldn't do much other than shoot Saga an apologetic look before following her. Saga decided to trail behind him, not wanting the girl to have even a moment of alone time with HIS boyfriend.

"Hey, Richan, what's this?" An said, regarding the box on the table.

"Oh, I don't know. I guess my parents left it this morning before they left." Ritsu picked up the note and started to read it. His mother detailed the plans she had set up for An and Ritsu today in the note and also explained that inside the box was...

"Rings? Are these what I think they are Richan?" An asked after opening the box, her curiosity having gotten the better of her. She plucked the note out of Ritsu's hands, the boy frozen in terror as he realized what was happening. "They are! Promise rings! I'll have to thank your mother for getting them for us, they're so cute! Let's put them on!" An beamed.

SNAP

Saga turned and stormed out of the kitchen, Ritsu breaking out of his shock when he heard the front door open and slam shut.

Ritsu quickly ran after Saga, ignoring An's concern as she followed him out. "Senpai, wait!" He called after him, somehow managing to catch up.

"What the fuck, Ritsu?!" Saga whipped around to face him. Oh God, Ritsu had never seen him so angry. "You told me she was just a friend, that you rejected her!"

"She is! I did!" Ritsu insisted. "She's just a friend!"

"Then why the hell is your mom buying the two of you fucking promise rings?! On fucking White Day too!"

Ritsu started to tear up, but he couldn't cry. He needed to explain everything before he lost the person he loved. If he started crying then he wouldn't be able to get a word out.

"W-We're in an arranged marriage." He admitted, feeling so ashamed for not telling his Senpai the truth earlier. "But I don't like An like that! Its a fantasy created by our parents and I've told my mother over and over again that I won't go through with it! A-An and I are not a couple and we're not getting married!" Ritsu insisted.

'Please, please, please believe me, he has to believe me, please.' Ritsu silently begged.

Saga looked between Ritsu and An, who was standing on the porch. He clenched his jaw, shaking his head and refusing to meet Ritsu's eyes. "Looks like you're the only one who thinks that way." He turned and walked off again, Ritsu staring helplessly as he did. The image of his Senpai blurred with tears before they finally started to fall.

#onodera ritsu #sekaiichi hatsukoi #kohinata an #saga masamune #sihjrweek #mama onodera #oop bad things happened

45 notes · View notes

twoidiotwriters1 · 4 years ago

Text

Written In The Stars CXXVII (Harry Potter xF!Oc)

A/N: This is one of my favourite chapters uwu -Danny

Words: 4,172

Series’ Masterlist

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Listen to: ‘I Wanna Be OK’ -by Caleb James

Chapter Twenty-Five: Reaching Out.

She never would've thought that one of Pansy's friends was... decent.

Yes, Erick had some pretty nasty friends, but he was lovely, however, he'd never considered them close. Daphne was different, she didn't have a problem with her friends, but she had a restless curiosity and a set of very good eyes, same eyes that helped her realize Erick was acting strange.

"She's been following me for months," Erick scowled at the girl. "I didn't know it was her, but I was careful not to do anything suspicious as soon as I felt it... I'm used to being alone, Daphne, which means I can tell when I'm not."

"Didn't hurt to try," Daphne shrugged, sitting down. "You can stop staring at me like that, I'm not here to kill you."

"What do you want?"

"I already asked her," Erick sat down next to the girl and gestured for Mel to sit in front of them. "I know you don't like her, but if you trust me then you'll listen to what she has to say."

Mel hesitated, if this would've happened a year ago she would've agreed right away, there was nothing to lose and one more friend to gain, but now it wasn't just some silly study sessions to learn about the muggle world, it was the Order, secrets plans to win a war that was yet to start...

"Erick has explained to me that you and Granger taught him a lot about the muggle world and that you've also done a few things off-record... I want to learn, I don't care whether if You-Know-Who's back or not, but I care about myself and my sister. I want to be prepared if it turns out you're not crazy."

"I don't understand," Mel sat down. "You believe us?"

"I don't know what to believe," Daphne made a face. "I know that if the Ministry sent Umbridge here they must see Dumbledore as a real threat, and that's something."

"Why asking me, though?"

"I would rather get my information from someone who's lived around muggles instead of that nonsense pureblood families say all the time. They heard it from their parents, and the parents heard it from their parents... I'm not excited about spending time with you and Granger," She sneered. "But I don't have a choice."

"How do I know you're not trying to trick us?"

Daphne raised a brow in amusement.

"Why do you need to trust me to have a silly study session from time to time?"

"Answer the question, Daphne," Erick pressed.

The girl turned to look at him, she examined his and Mel's face and her interest increased.

"What are really doing here?"

"Listen, you either answer me, or we're done," Mel insisted. "I have things to—"

"Umbridge wants to make her own little team of rats," Daphne said. "Pansy was telling us about it yesterday, she said Umbridge was writing to the Minister the other day after class, and that she managed to read a bit — said it was something about recruiting students to be her eyes and ears."

"So?"

"I could join along with Erick and we could help you. I know you and your friends are up to something, you've been too friendly with students from other houses and that didn't use to happen, we can trick Umbridge so she follows the wrong clues."

Mel couldn't help but think about Kingsley and Tonks helping the Order by lying about Sirius' whereabouts, it was tempting. Hadn't she promised to find a way to beat Umbridge in her own game? Maybe this was it. Umbridge would never suspect two of the best Slytherins being the ones passing information to Mel.

"If that's true," She started carefully. "Then I'd consider teaching you, if you promise to keep your mouth shut."

"Okay," Daphne stood up. "We have a deal?"

Mel faced the girl in front of her, she still couldn't believe this was happening.

"Greengrass, if this is a trick... you'll regret it."

"I know."

She told Hermione about it because throwing Daphne into the mix was a dangerous move. She figured Harry would be okay since it really didn't have to do with him and what they were doing, he would get anxious no doubt, but he would understand.

Since she had promised to help him with Occlumency, Mel decided to inform him about it during their first study session. Harry was just as confused as her.

"What is it about you," He asked in incredulity, "that attracts Slytherins so much?"

"Dunno," Mel smiled. "Maybe it's, you know, that I don't judge the book by its cover?"

"Shut up," Harry snorted. "I've never seen you pick a book with an ugly cover. Don't lie to me."

"Are you admitting that I was right, though? Slytherins and Gryffindors can get along."

"Have your first meeting with two Slytherins at once," He raised a brow. "Then we'll talk."

It was a known fact that Umbridge was starting to lose it, with every new decree she was stepping further into a higher position, making her even more dislikeable than before. It was also known, that there was a war going on between the woman and Mel Dumbledore.

She was, to say it simply, mayhem. Mel hung a target on those bullies that would openly talk against the muggle-borns, making their lives a living hell -with the twins' help, obviously- and the best part was that Umbridge was unable to catch her every single time.

Umbridge was a threat to the school, she could feel her breathing on her neck. The funny thing was that even though Umbridge considered her the biggest issue on her list, she was underestimating Mel at an abysmal level.

For instance, the woman couldn't phantom the plausibility of Mel doing wandless magic, even knowing she was a Dumbledore, a gifted one at that, Umbridge's blind trust in Fudge seemed to weigh more on her mind than anything else.

Being the student defending the muggle-borns honour regardless of their house gave her the protection she'd been lacking for years. The witnesses would blatantly deny her participation in any incidents, it didn't matter if Umbridge threatened them with detention, Mel had created such a strong community that it was now acting without her having to move a finger.

While Harry was doing everything in his power to teach what the woman was censoring in her classes, Mel kept destroying every false fear Umbridge had been placing inside the students' heads; but the work wasn't done after the first week, it had to be constant and she had to be careful about the battles she'd pick.

Her lessons with Dumbledore were a great help for that, learning how to clear her mind and compartmentalize her emotions turned out to be brilliant for her plans. She was unstoppable.

Unfortunately, there was a consequence to this: Mel was turning into a prepotent git. She'd started to publicly mess with the bullies, and in some cases, students that were younger than her. One afternoon, Erick caught her while hexing a thirteen-year-old.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" He hissed at her. "You have no right to punish him — You can't allow this to get over your head!"

"Oh, it's way over my head by now," Mel snorted. "I spent four years trying to convince everyone that I was worthy — four bloody years where I got nothing in return. I'm done with that, I'll let it get over my head as much as I want. I deserve it. I deserve the attention and I deserve the bloody power. Umbridge is nothing compared to me."

"You forget you're not the ruler of the school — Even if others treat you like it," He warned her.

"Then stop me," She smiled innocently, though her tone was definitely mocking. "You'll have a hard time trying, Prince."

Erick straightened in his place and spoke out loud:

"Detention, Miss Dumbledore. You'll report to Professor McGonagall tonight — Oh! And thirty points from Gryffindor will be taken away."

Mel's eyes flashed dangerously. "You can't do that."

Erick leaned closer.

"Then stop me," He looked around the hall and yelled. "What are you looking at? Go to class!"

Most of the students glared at the boy and mumbled about taking care of him later, but Erick didn't care, after all, he'd never been afraid of her, let alone of her admirers.

Neville had found his motivation in the shape of Bellatrix Lestrange. There was something dark but certain in the way he would practice, and there was something pleasant but worrying about the fact that he'd become the best student.

By the end of January, after a long talk with Erick, Harry, Hermione and Ron, Mel decided to mention the D.A. to Daphne. It wasn't surprising at all when she decided to join.

Mel was working at the speed of light: Quidditch practice, O.W.L.s lessons and Dumbledore's along with her little vigilante acts. She was missing meals several times a week, something that her friends were noticing, which caused the sudden appearance of snacks in her bag and pockets.

She was so enraptured on herself that she couldn't even feel Harry's discomfort. She knew he was having a hard time thanks to their weekly Occlumency sessions, he still couldn't clear his head, and although she would try her best she would stop at the slightest hint of an argument about to burst between them. She didn't have the time to fight.

The day finally arrived when Daphne would have her very first D.A. meeting. She was welcomed with open arms, and it wasn't because of Mel's warnings, the students were genuinely excited about having a Slytherin there, and Mel couldn't help but share their sentiment.

She woke up on the morning of Valentine's day having no clue that it was Valentine's day. She had fallen asleep right after a soothing warm bath, her hair turned all frizzy overnight and it hadn't dried completely, so she was sort of grumpy.

An owl landed in front of Hermione during breakfast, holding out a letter for her. Thinking it was maybe Krum's reply Mel didn't give much thought to it while she ate, Ron sat down beside her and nudge her side.

"You're okay?"

"Hmm?" Mel asked, shoving a spoonful of cereal in her mouth.

"I thought you'd be bouncing off the walls today, aren't you excited?"

Mel blinked, swallowing her food and frowning slightly.

"About what?"

Ron stared at her.

"Your date?"

The girl dropped her spoon.

"It's Valentine's day?!"

"Are you sure you're sleeping enough?" He asked worryingly.

"Mum's birthday!" She said in horror. "I have to send her a present — I have to hurry —"

"About time!" Hermione said abruptly. "If it hadn't come today..."

"What's that?" asked Mel anxiously.

"Listen, guys," Hermione looked up at her and Harry. "This is really important... Do you think you could meet me in the Three Broomsticks around midday?"

"Well... I dunno," Harry shrugged. "Cho might be expecting me to spend the whole day with her. We never said what we were going to do."

"Fred wouldn't mind about me leaving early," Mel responded. "Why?"

"Well, Harry, bring her along if you must," said Hermione with impatience. "But will you come?"

"Well... all right, but why?"

"I haven't got time to tell you now, I've got to answer this quickly —" Hermione left right away.

"You know what? I reckon I hate it when she does that too," Mel groaned.

"Are you coming?" Harry asked Ron, he shook his head miserably.

"I can't come into Hogsmeade at all, Angelina wants a full day's training. Like it's going to help — we're the worst team I've ever seen."

"How come you're not staying?" Harry asked her.

"I trained yesterday with Jack so I could go to Hogsmeade with Fred," Mel said, suddenly remembering why she was so tired. "I can't believe I woke up and didn't remember! I've been planning this for days..."

"Mel's alright," Ron sulked. "She's got a good broom and her aim is decent, but we're still struggling... I dunno why Angelina won't just let me resign..."

"It's because you're good when you're on form, that's why," said Harry with exasperation, then he turned to Mel. "And you should consider taking a time off, you can go a week without being Umbridge's nightmare."

"You're sounding like Hermione," Mel said, gathering her hair in a ponytail to get it out of the way. "I got this, okay?"

"Lady!" Fred happily approached. "Ready for the best day of your life?"

"You really need to be humbled," Mel replied, pushing her hair back and standing up, waving goodbye to the boys as she left the Great Hall with Fred.

"You're one to talk, your majesty," Fred mocked.

"Can we go to the owlery first? I forgot to send Mum's present..."

"George and I sent it last Wednesday!"

"Why are you sending presents to my mum?" She frowned

"Because we like her," Fred raised a brow, "And I should be nice to my mother-in-law, shouldn't I? — Oof!"

"You're coming, or not?" Mel said.

"Yeah, sure — Merlin, you're getting stronger..." He rubbed his arm. "All that practice is paying off..."

"Hermione wants to meet in the three broomsticks later on the day," She ignored his comment. "You could come with me but you don't have to..."

Fred shrugged.

"George, Lee and I were planning to buy stuff anyway," He smirked. "We've run out of almost everything. You really are taking this war against Umbridge quite seriously, aren't you?"

"Well, Sirius did ask me to have fun," She grinned.

"You think it's a good idea to visit Madam Puddifoot's shop?" He asked loudly as they ran away from the rain.

"Oh god, no," Mel grimaced. "That place reminds me of Umbridge's office, so cheesy..."

"You used to like cheesy!" He shook his head. "Just thought I should mention it, that's where the couples go..."

"We shouldn't go anywhere we don't like," Mel responded. "I mean, not that we're following rules anyway..."

"Not that we're a real couple either," Fred snorted.

The whole day had been like any other, the only difference being that it was just the two of them, and they were having fun. Although maybe there was one thing she'd been trying to ignore for a while.

Things were moving forward at an alarming speed in other aspects of her life: Harry and she still weren't the friends they used to be and she certainly didn't feel comfortable enough to talk about her love life in front of him, but it was time to talk about it with someone, it was driving her mad.

Fred was extrovert and funny, but he knew when Mel needed to have a serious conversation and how to support her. Mel could stop him from doing really wild things, she was still the only girl the twins listened to. They had lots of fun together... but they weren't in love.

She'd expected to fall for Fred, even if she was the first to claim it was out of the question. Part of her secretly hoped for the day when she would look into his eyes and realize she was head over heels, but that moment was yet to arrive.

Maybe she could talk about it with Erick, though they had promised not to bring up the romantic side of their lives during their study sessions because it was making Erick rather grumpy lately, and she didn't want to fight with him. Either way, Mel needed to talk about her situation with Fred soon. She knew this whole thing didn't have a future, and she was done pretending.

"You're awfully quiet," Fred mentioned as they walked into the three broomsticks, emptying his pockets of the wrappers of sweets they had shared during the day. "Something on your mind?"

"No," She lied. "Just... I'm comfortable with my life right now, you know?"

If she could, she'd keep this situation going for the rest of her school years, but it wasn't fair to Fred and it wasn't fair to her either. Nevertheless, there would be better days to bring that up than on Valentine's day.

"Glad to hear you're the happiest girl on earth since you kissed me," He joked.

"That's debatable."

"Don't ruin our moment, Lady."

"Anyway..." She grinned. "Thank you for the date, I'll see you around..."

"No problem," Fred winked. "If you end your thing with Hermione before it's time to go back, feel free to join us."

"Alright," She nodded.

When Fred left, she ran into the strangest scene she'd ever seen in her life:

Hermione, Luna, Harry and Rita Skeeter, all seated at the same table. Mel wondered if maybe she was dreaming, but once she was standing right in front of the group, she realized not even her could come up with such a strange thing.

"This is by far the weirdest view of the day, and I walked past Madam Puddifoot's a few minutes ago," She said jokingly.

"Where's Fred?" Hermione asked her.

"Had plans with George and Lee, didn't want to hold him back since I didn't know how long this would take... And it looks like it's going to take a while."

"I'm sorry," Harry said, but he didn't sound sorry at all.

"Doesn't matter," Mel shrugged, untying her hair and feeling it splash freezing cold water on her back. "Merlin, I need a haircut..."

She sat down between Harry and Hermione and smiled at the woman in front of her.

"Rita," She greeted. "You look awful."

"Dumbledore girl," Skeeter said in the same tone. "Are those dark circles under your eyes meant to match your mental state?"

"Nah, I wear them for fun," Mel raised her eyebrows. "Whenever I feel like looking crazy I hex people, would you like to be my victim for the day?"

"That's enough," Hermione scolded them. "We're not here to have a go at each other."

"Why are we here, then?"

"Little Miss Perfect was just about to tell me when you arrived," said Rita. "I suppose I'm allowed to talk to them, am I?"

"Yes, I suppose you are," said Hermione. "But don't call Mel crazy again, you know that's not true."

"Where's Cho?" Mel asked, noticing Harry was alone.

"I... er— She didn't want to come," He replied awkwardly.

"Pretty girl, is she, Harry?" Rita questioned, then she added. "And you're dating some Fred, are you, Mel? Weren't you two together?"

"One more word about their love life and the deal's off and that's a promise," Hermione snapped.

"What deal? You haven't mentioned a deal yet, Miss Prissy, you just told me to turn up. Oh, one of these days..."

"Yes, yes, one of these days you'll write more horrible stories about Harry and Mel, and me. Find someone who cares, why don't you?"

"They've run plenty of horrible stories about these two this year without my help— How has that made you feel, Harry? Betrayed? Distraught? Misunderstood? What about you, Mel?"

"They feel angry, of course. Because Harry's told the Minister of Magic the truth and the Minister's too much of an idiot to believe him, and Mel has done nothing to gain that awful reputation," Hermione replied.

"Well, dunno 'Mione, some classmates might disagree," Mel said in a low, playful tone.

"So you actually stick to it, do you, that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is back? You stand by all this garbage Dumbledore's been telling everybody about You-Know-Who returning and you being the sole witness — ?"

"What my uncle said isn't garbage," The girl argued. "It's the truth."

"And I wasn't the sole witness," Harry said roughly. "There were a dozen-odd Death Eaters there as well. Want their names?"

"I'd love them," Rita opened her bag once more and this time Hermione didn't stop her. "A great bold headline: 'Potter Accuses...' A subheading: 'Harry Potter Names Death Eaters Still Among Us.' And then, beneath a nice big photograph of you: 'Disturbed teenage survivor of You-Know- Who's attack, Harry Potter, 15, caused outrage yesterday by accusing respectable and prominent members of the Wizarding community of being Death Eaters...' "

"I doubt any of them will be respectable after this," Mel muttered.

Rita stopped abruptly, her smile fading.

"Of course... Little Miss Perfect wouldn't want that story out there, would she?"

"As a matter of fact," said Hermione, smiling at Rita, "that's exactly what Little Miss Perfect does want."

Rita, Mel and Harry stared at her. Luna hummed quietly without caring about the little discussion happening, her eyes glued to her drink.

"You want me to report what he says about He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?" Rita breathed.

"Yes, I do. The true story. All the facts. Exactly as Harry reports them. He'll give you all the details, he'll tell you the names of the undiscovered Death Eaters he saw there, he'll tell you what Voldemort looks like now — oh, get a grip on yourself!" The girl exclaimed after Rita accidentally spilt firewhiskey on her lap at the mention of the wizard. "Mel will tell you all about Barty Crouch Jr. and how Fudge ruined any chances of being a decent Minister, and how Umbridge is doing awful things to the school."

"The Prophet wouldn't print it. In case you haven't noticed, nobody believes their cock-and-bull story. Everyone thinks they're delusional," Skeeter pointed out. "Now, if you let me write the story from that angle —"

"We don't need another story about how Harry and Mel lost their marbles! We've had plenty of those already, thank you! I want them given the opportunity to tell the truth!"

"There's no market for a story like that."

"You mean the Prophet won't print it because Fudge won't let them."

"All right, Fudge is leaning on the Prophet, but it comes to the same thing. They won't print a story that shows Harry and the Dumbledores in a good light. Nobody wants to read it. It's against the public mood. This last Azkaban breakout has got people quite worried enough. People just don't want to believe You-Know-Who's back."

"So the Daily Prophet exists to tell people what they want to hear, does it?"

"The Prophet exists to sell itself, you silly girl."

"My dad thinks it's an awful paper," Luna finally intervened. "He publishes important stories that he thinks the public needs to know. He doesn't care about making money."

"I'm guessing your father runs some stupid little village newsletter? 'Twenty-five Ways to Mingle with Muggles' and the dates of the next Bring-and-Fly Sale?"

"No, he's the editor of The Quibbler."

Rita snorted.

"Important stories he thinks the public needs to know'? I could manure my garden with the contents of that rag!"

"Well, this is your chance to raise the tone of it a bit, isn't it?" said Hermione. "Luna says her father's quite happy to take Harry's interview. That's who'll be publishing it."

"The Quibbler!" Rita chortled. "You think people will take them seriously if they're published in The Quibbler?"

"Some people won't, but the Daily Prophet's version of the Azkaban breakout had some gaping holes in it. I think a lot of people will be wondering whether there isn't a better explanation of what happened, and if there's an alternative story available, even if it is published in a... in a — well, an unusual magazine — I think they might be rather keen to read it."

"Can't say it's not a good idea," Mel shrugged. "The Ministry'll be stuck. If they act against it people will notice it, if they ignore it people will read it anyway. They don't get to win."

"All right, let's say for a moment I'll do it," Rita said. "What kind of fee am I going to get?"

"I don't think Daddy exactly pays people to write for the magazine," said Luna. "They do it because it's an honor, and, of course, to see their names in print."

"I'm supposed to do this for free?" Rita asked in outrage.

"Well, yes. Otherwise, as you very well know, I will inform the authorities that you are an unregistered Animagus. Of course, the Prophet might give you rather a lot for an insider's account of life in Azkaban..."

"And you kind of owe it to us, Rita," Mel smiled sweetly. "After all the shit you pulled last year."

"I don't suppose I've got any choice, have I?" She spat, leaving her parchment on the table and preparing her quill.

"Daddy will be pleased," said Luna happily.

"Okay, guys?" said Hermione, turning to them. "Ready to tell the public the truth?"

Mel and Harry looked at each other.

"My uncle will be pissed," She said.

But after a second, they realized they didn't care what Dumbledore had to say. They had been acting in the shadows for far too long, it was time to reach out. Harry smiled a little, looking back at Hermione.

"We're ready," said Harry.

Next Chapter —>

Taglist.

@dee123ksha @vampiregirl1797 @siriuslysirius1107 @stardusthigh @mikariell95 @vernon-dursley @thesuitelifeofafangirl @tomshollandz @kylosleftbuttcheek @reverse-hxlland @bloodorangemoonlight @omiwashere @t-rexs-world @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @21bruhs @i-am-scared-and-useless-bisexual @dielgonacoffee

#twoidiots writing #hp fanfic #Harry Potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter xoc #WITT fic

13 notes · View notes

brooklynislandgirl · 3 years ago

Note

Beth and UARF!Billy - ❤♡❥ღ💕💘💝💓💌💟💙💚💜💛

Heart-Eyes || -

Five A.M.

Beth’s barely awake as she comes into the office, coffee in hand, only to come face to face with the widest grin she has ever seen on Hal Gates’ face. Dark eyes dancing, he relieves her of her thermos cup, takes both her arms in his hands, and swing-dances her around the cramped space where they work.

“We’ve done it, girl!”

Though abjectly confused, Beth can’t help but grin in return. “Wha’ve we done?” She wants to be just as thrilled, wants to share in the old man’s joy. “We’ve got data on white pointer mating! I’m running the compile now, we should be able to parse it and watch the video footage within an hour or two!”

She’s floored.

The shock is clear on her face, even her mouth drops open a little. Often bandied about as the Holy Grail of marine biology, great-white mating is known to exist. Despite decades of research into the habits of the species, that particular bit of knowledge has eluded marine biologists.

“Wha...? How?”

“Mate of mine, Crawford down in New Zealand has taken a fisherman’s eye-witness account on our elusive little friends, and shared video. Crawford sent me all of the data.”

“Oh, Hal.”

Dr Gates nods at her eagerly and once again promenades her around some tables, brushing past a stack of hastily shoved aside folders with charts of migration patterns, weather reports, and feeding data. Then, far more carefully, he hands her into a seat and plops down into an office chair, slapping his knees in pleasure and pride.

“Speaking of mating rituals...”

Beth laughs but blushes at the same time, eyes askance. She suddenly knows what he’s going to ask, or at least of whom.

“...And since we have so little to do until all the research is collated and complied...”

“Must we?”

“No finer time, girl.”

She holds her hands up to stave him off until she gets up, crosses the room and takes a sip of her coffee. Not exactly how she wanted to start the day, but there’s no real reason not to humour her mentor.

“Have at, den.”

“Excellent.” Hal Gates really is an inveterate old gossip.

~*~

❤: who is more affectionate in public? in private?

Beth laughs. Okay, so this isn’t really so bad. “I t’ink I gotta say...I’m more affectionate in public. Mos’ of da time, Doctah Manderly... just doesn’t know what t’ do. Very stiff, hands in his pockets or stand at parade rest.”

The last cocktail party had been a half disaster, between trying to get William to mingle with the public attendees and not leave to check on his seals at first opportunity. The one time he surprised her was when he put a hand on the small of her back though the illusion was broken when she found that the six-foot-six man was trying to ultimately hide behind her. No amount of mock-tails were going to spare him any acute discomfort.

“Probably for da best. No offence, but he’s very definitely...ah....British.”

“None taken.” Hal offers her a wink and taps the side of his nose.

“But even behind close doors? He just... lil uptight, I guess. I sometimes wonder if mebbe he’s worried about havin’ an episode, and some affections are difficult when you have a service dog nearly t’ree-quarters ya size intent on doin’ her job, but I’d say he at least tries when it jus’ da two of us. Fingahs in my hair, brush against my arm. Da kine.”

Hal nods, knowing the specifics without having to drag them out of her.

♡: who is the bigger romantic openly? secretly?

"I t’ink,” she begins, carefully considering this one. “Dat anyone who loves da sea so much dat dey would give up a whole life to dedicate demself to it...got a big romantic soul. What is da ocean, if not love an’ life, an’ all dat we dream of in songs an’ poetry? I only t’ink it’s harder for him to express dat because well..”

She makes a dismissive gesture.

It isn’t that he grasps the concepts of language and expression, they’ve certainly entertained passionate arguments, verbal jousts that have filled the air with sign and countersign.

“Romantically speakin’ I jus’ don’ see him as da type dat I’m gonna find outside my window wi’ an ole boom box, playing In Ya Eyes by Petah Gabriel, ya know? But I also don’t believe he wouldn’t t’ink about it. So secretly? Him. Openly, me.”

❥: who is more likely to plan something big for valentine's day?

“Honestly, Hal...I’d have t’ say him. He’s a planner. Wants every detail to be perfect, will second guess himself a hundred times jus’ to make sure dere no wrinkle in the research. Me? Always been da spontaneous kine, except when it came to really wantin’ to work wit’ you.”

Hal pats her lap, his face soft.

ღ: who is more likely to initiate hand-holding in public?

“Again, it would be William. I don’ know wha’ he’s t’inkin’ a lot of da time, if he’s even aware dat I am dere sometimes. An’ I don’ really wanna make a big deal about it, don’ wanna ovahstep. For me, it’s a much more difficult proposition, is like...touch is where I’m most comfortable, outside of typing endless notes or readin’ data.”

She nods toward the words scrolling along the screen. She fully disclosed her disabilities when she applied for the position so thankfully she doesn’t have to explain now. Most of the other people at the facility don’t even really notice. Except for maybe Ben who sees too much and maybe says too little. That’s to be expected though when you gather a bunch of scientists and stick them in one beautiful place.

“You want him to initiate more, don’t you?”

“I would, yeah. But dere always more important kine and so really guess it nevah really matter.”

💕: who is more likely to make huge declarations of love in front of other people?

“Fair question an’ I guess dat would be me. We...we agreed not to make a big t’ing about any of dis, you know how quirky everyone here is, an’ in case it doesn’t work out, we don’ want da kine t’ get weird. Especially wi’ James an’ Miranda. So if somet’ing like dis were t’ happen it’s probably because he push all my buttons an’ my tempah got da best of me, right? Could see it happenin’ over breakfast. On da beach. Mebbe by da pools.”

Which is why she tries so hard to keep her passions in check. She doesn’t want to blurt out anything that can’t be taken back.

💘: who developed a crush on the other first?

“Couldn’t say,” and in those two words it is the breadth and depth of her honesty. Beth doesn’t have crushes in the same way most people do. She’s never seen anyone and instantly found herself immersed in fantasies, desires, a desperate need to be around them. She might find someone intellectually stimulating and enjoy the conversation. She might notice that something about them calls to her artist’s eye and be aesthetically pleasing in its symmetry, someone might make her laugh but she doesn’t dwell. And by the time there is the first inkling that she might want more out of a situation or relationship, she’s already become close friends. Or she watches as that object of her affection drifts beyond reach and she tells herself she’s happy because they clearly needed something more than she’s even capable of giving.

And sometimes, Beth wonders if she isn’t really broken or damaged in some way. Because she can’t even say she ever had a crush on Billy. She doesn’t know that she can say she has any expectations other than they look good together on paper, and it’s been drilled into her since birth that appearances *do* matter. “Mo’beddah you should ask him.” Gates doesn’t say anything, he only nods.

💝: who spends more time (possibly overthinking) what presents to get the other?

“William. For same-same reasons as Valentines Day, an’ da need for everyt’ing to be as exactin’ as he can make it. Like, how hard and how long it take him to find...or more likely, *breed* dem two purple neocardinas in my office?” Shrimp like the two in her tank, deliriously happy and spoiled and free of predators, are rare in size and colour, and yet… there they are. Then there’s the allegorical evidence of his severe and frothing dislike of mass consumption marketing, the complete commercialisation of every secular and religious holiday, the pastiche of feelings tacked on almost like an afterthought.

💓: who initiates most physical contact?

Beth hesitates. That’s slightly more personal than the other questions so far and truth be told she’s a little ashamed of having to answer without specific parameters. But it is a question, and she did agree to answer them with the same honesty as she offers Hal in all their other work and conversations. “I’ve always done well wi’ sensory input dat was based in kine oddah dan auditory. Smell, taste, seeing… but of alla dem, touch has always been important to me. Textures, near imperceptible data processed t’rough skin. An’ I guess dat I use dat wi’ him. Way to express ideas or sensations dat might not come across ordinarily. Enthusiasm, excitement, humour, rage, disappointment. I wan him to feel an’ understand when I don’ have da words in me, or know how to express. A lot of da time, it’s accidental or at least….subconscious.” A beat goes by. “I don’t believe he really cares much for it.”

💌: who is more likely to send cutesy texts to the other?

This one is hard for her to answer because they aren’t really cutesy text people. Most of their days are too filled with very real world drama, service to the greater good, the understanding and conservation of the most vulnerable environments and animals within. There’s weather, there’s reports, there’s an entire litany of experiences that don’t leave much time to play around until well after hours when they can finally seek well deserved liberty. However, Billy does sometimes send her pictures of the seals doing very cute seal things, or Annie shepherding him and his charges with the boss-vibes of the Queen Mother. In the end she only offers her mentor a smile and a shrug.

💟: who spends time reading their zodiac compatibilities?

“Oh absolutely I do. Find da whole pseudo-science of it fascinatin’, especially when da stars are not in da same position as dey were when it was invented an’ da psychological impact it has on our species is jus’ totally wild, you know?”

Beth knows that she’s the textbook definition of a Cancerian woman, and Billy does a good job providing a counter-argument on being a Libra. Further there’s a bit of an annoyance factor; he thinks junk science ‘belongs in the bottom of the bin with the rest of the rubbish.’ And he has a point, to some extent, even if she doesn’t agree with him. Not everything can be cold facts and numbers. Sometimes a little playfulness was in order and he absolutely needed to be reminded of that.

Hal laughs and shakes his head. “You’re going to do my chart then, aren’t you?” “Wit’out a doubt, Doctah Gates.” She wiggles her brows.

💙: who is more protective?

“I think objectively, I am. You know William’s troubles, and I have to keep them all in mind dough it’s not like he can forget dem, right? Some of his facts aren’t… I’ve consulted with some medical doctors and if we are careful, dere’s a lot he can experience dat he sees out of reach but I don’ like bringing dem up because I don’ want to agitate him. Only can lead t’ problems.” She does wish though that he’d trust her a little more, that he’d let go of some of his well deserved fears. That he’d let himself out of his shell and accept that even with limitations he can do many of the same things as the rest of the group does. But he seems content enough to hang back, ever the observer. And she doesn’t know if it’s her place to try to drag him into things though she might be better at it than anyone else. Miranda has told her as much.

💚: who tends to get sick more often? who is better at taking care of the other?

Hal’s question is really a continuation of the previous one and once again she has to call Billy out on it. Because she’s never really been sick a day in her life, not since early childhood and the culmination of that was the test bite that nearly lost her the leg she keeps tucked away, hidden out of sight whenever possible. “Dat seems a small kine ingenious, he no can help his seizure disorder. An’ I feel like he really ought to have a good psychologist. I t’ink some t’erapy would do him good. Spends too much time in his own head an’ mebbe not enough taking charge of his life. I know he can be afraid of lots of t’ings but it nevah really *has* to be dat way. But I also don’ wanna push him, for same-same reasons I mention before. You can lead a shark to chum but no can make him frenzy, know what I mean?” The analogy is silly. Billy wants so much more than what he feels he has. And a darker current in the back of her mind wonders if they would still be the same if he felt he could reasonably have them. That feels so selfish and toxic and she really has no place casting judgement on him when maybe she’s no better off than he is, only expressing it differently.

💜: who said "i love you" first? or, if neither has said it yet, who is more likely to say it first?

It’s strange how perceptive he is and goes in for the killing bite. The honest truth is that neither one has said it. And neither one likely will. Billy has layers of guilt and trauma, has beliefs that she cannot get a single foothold to try and tear apart. He doesn’t feel deserving of such a finer emotion. And Beth? She has her own reasons. She doesn’t even know if love is a thing that exists or if it’s some fairy-tale people tell themselves to make it easier to get by. She believes in affection, and she believes that people bond the same way packs and pods and herds do. But she feels the concept of love is poisonous. Ruinous in the way it can destroy someone from the inside out. And how any time she’s ever thought she’d felt it, it was ripped out from her grasp. She won’t say it. She won’t hear it.

She doesn’t answer him immediately, but instead gets up and paces away, appearing as though she’s checking on some of the cameras situated around the bay. The wall that she’d left down for Hal goes back up, slamming into place.

“Research from both psychology and neurology fields have found that there are twelve different areas of the brain that light up and work together when two people are attracted to one another, releasing chemicals like dopamine, adrenaline, oxytocin and vasopression. All the symptoms people experience are simply animal-instincts provided to guarantee that we as a species survive by either wanting to mate, or flee.”

💛: who believes in soulmates?

And Gates understands he’s made an error in judgement, though he’d only been trying to be helpful in a meddling kind of way. Anyone at the facility could see that Billy and Beth were two sides of a very quirky but ultimately needed coin. That they’d both changed each other in the two years she’d been a research fellow, and how they’d both blossomed for it. Well, anyone but the two of them. And this had seemed like such a good idea at first, tied into shark mating habits which he’d hoped she’d take better than she is.

Her answers have thus far matched up quite nicely with the boy’s.

Sadly, especially this one. She doesn’t turn to look at him. “There are no such things, Doctor Gates. And even if there were, statistically it would be almost impossible to meet a soul mate. Within the same general age group there are about a half a billion potential companions all over the world. One would have to travel the entirety of the world, every remote pocket of the planet. Secondly, there’s no scientific proof that souls even exist, and enough studies across various disciplines to prove that they don’t. Believing in such nonsense only makes a person unhappy. And all that aside, most mammals are not biologically programmed for monogamy and I doubt human beings are either.” Because if they were, why would anyone leave someone they claimed to love?

#Mahalo!Crow <3333 #A Star to Sail Her By|Doctor William Manderly #No Man's Land|Billy and Beth #Urca Aquarium and Research Facility #Aloha'aina|Hawai'i

2 notes · View notes

marauderssequels · 4 years ago

Text

for some reason i cant send in asks, so ill do it as submissions, i got quite a few hcs (some of which are way too specific for this stage of planning, but whatever)

James:

Some other girl(s) polyjuicing into lily to get with James

James being cis-straight and a great ally (who still makes mistakes, but listens when its being pointed out, and educates himself)

Bad valentine’s poems

Peter:

peter either being explicitly a-spec or having serious partner(s)

i could imagine trans peter, however there would have to be other rep, because he ultimately is a bad character

peter being competent

Sirius:

Sirius speaking very good noble french (black family requirement)

Sirius being a big flirt but actually being very self conscious about his sexuality and stuff and getting very flustered when things are actually going somewhere

Sirius getting a magical tattoo of the moon that changes with the phases

Sirius being jealous of James when he meets his parents

Sirius growing his hair out every year, but having to cut it over the summer (it’s not too long yet at Xmas, so his parents let it slide)

Remus:

Remus having anxiety

sarcastic Remus

in canon it says somewhere that ppl thought Remus had a problematic bunny at home, and i need more of that

demi-bi Remus (if lily isnt)

its pretty much canon that Remus loves chocolate, but i like to think that sirius loves chocolate and Remus gets it from him

Remus and Pomfrey being close in some way

Remus having an extreme glow-up thanks to lycanthropy

Remus liking his meat less well done around the moon

Some ppl thinking Remus is Trans, bc of his “time of the month” (him getting moody, and the guys calling it that)

generally marauders:

late night map sessions

The boys definitely have a charmed record player in their dorm

James and Sirius taking mugglestudies and always asking Remus for help

just all kinds of stupid rumors about them, half of them they made up themselves

being friends with the house elves

marauders staying at hogwarts for a few days/the whole winter holidays because of the full

portrayal of the process to become an animagus (i think its official, there was a SuperCarlinBrothers video on it)

having them not just be “gifted” but actually be better and worse in different subjects and work together to balance that

Lily:

lily being bi and being with a girl before James (id love to see her with someone from a different house like Pandora lovegood or narcissa malfoy(black))

Lily writing with pens because it’s easier

Sassy lily

Demiro lily, oblivious to Snape liking her, falls for a girl she’s close to in 5th/6th, only falls for James after they become friends

Mrs potter telling Sirius/lily shes “heard a lot about them”

id love it if whichever book lily breaks her friendship with snape in would be her pov

idk if there’s canonically a certain year when the incident(Sirius telling snape how to get into the womping willow) happens, but it should probably not be the same as snape&lily ending

i believe the incident is earlier than that, so prob in 5th while lily ghosts snape in 6th

Remus and lily being (study-)friends before 7th year

i imagine lily to be a demigirl/female aligned nonb

Lily looking up to alice

other characters:

Pandora lovegood being lucious malfoy’s younger sister

generally Pandora and xenophilious lovegood

the black sisters and their relationship to Sirius and Regulus

Marlene&Sirius friendship, her teaching him make-up (regardless of what his gender will be)

i understood it the way that Fabian and Gideon weren’t twins, because i think it was mentioned here that way, but i might be wrong

I’m pretty sure hagrid was already whatever his position was called

i think Augusta longbottom would be a lot like molly with letters and stuff

idk how old rosmerta is but she could be a boys magnet as a student

Edgar bones in hufflepuff, Amelia in either hufllepuff or ravenclaw

Marlene and Dorcas at some point fuse wardrobe

snape not being that good at potions at first but when lily turns out to be good at it and enjoy it he throws all his energy into it to become as good as he is

I imagine frank (and alice) to be a year older than them, mostly bc I’d want the marauders to have the dorm to themselves

Trans McG

some more thoughts and hcs

prank traditions, id think they would do their biggest prank of the year on Halloween, which they’d start planning on the train ride

prank wars (maybe the girls challenge the marauders, or there’s an unofficial house cup)

two character’s owls hating each other for no reason (ik how random this is)

magic drinking games (later on)

Period cramp curse (a curse that causes pain comparable to period cramps)

The spell to hang someone in the air by their ankles gaining so much popularity that they start using it to wake each other up

girls’ dorms rejecting trans guys, and letting trans girls in

unicorns disliking trans guys, and liking trans girls (unicorns are said to prefer girls over boys)

sirius and/or remus are often smoking in fanfic/fanart, but I would dislike that to be the case here

they might be asked to tutor some younger students in later years (great way to have a bit younger characters in there)

inter-house relationships (including slitherins)

slug club, who gets in (lily of course, but else), what do they do, how important is it to the students

Some stupid professor giving muggleborns bad grades

Thestral lesson

id like every book to have a focus on a different character, but not be too strict about it? so like have a few chapters with a different pov thrown in there

a-spec rep!! (i could help with that)

allergies, like someone there gotta have some right?

even tho this is set in 1971-78, you could use modern day terminology for gender and orientation things, at least id prefer that

gender euphoria!! its a great feeling and needs more rep

eating disorders

not having all characters leave hogwarts in the relationships we know them in

ocs!! just a bunch all over the place, some more in the foreground than others and in all houses

they’d have changing dada teachers

having more diverse religious rep

I imagine them to be in the same dorm every year

I think there was a dragonpox epidemic going on (which later killed the potters)

id love to help with this project, idk how good id be as a writer, but i could prob edit and research/brainstorm, also i could help if you wanted to make any German characters

- submitted by @toni-d-b

#h o l y s h i t #thank you so so much for all of these!!#submission

42 notes · View notes

surveys-at-your-service · 3 years ago

Text

Survey #437

“you get what you pray for / you don’t get anything”

Do you tell your mom and dad everything? No. Who was the last person you talked about something that was bothering you with? Most likely my mom. What’s your favorite musical? I don't like musicals. Who did you last share a taxi with? I've never been in a taxi. If you’ve ever tried drugs or alcohol, what was your reason for first trying it? I've never done drugs, but the first time I drank was actually an accident. I'd come in from a long, hot walk, and I desperately needed water, and Mom offered me what I thought was just pink lemonade. Turns out it was a Mike's Hard Lemonade and I CHUGGED it before everyone around me was like "NOOOO!" because it was alcohol lmaooo. If you were far from home and needed to sleep for the night, would you choose to rent a crappy motel room for $60 or sleep in your car for free? I'm sleeping in my car. I'm afraid of things like bed bugs. Is there a situation where you caved into peer pressure and regretted it? I don't think so? Have you ever rolled off your bed in your sleep? Pretty sure no. What is your favourite planet? Saturn! Do you enjoy Mario games? Not really, honestly. They're just not my style. Mario Kart is fun every now and again, though. What flavor fruity drink is your favorite? Strawberry, in most cases. Ever done a keg stand? No. Who is the last person you lent money to? My mom. Do you have any health problems that are unusual for your age? I have carpal tunnel in my wrists from typing so much, but I'm not sure how "unusual" that is for young adults nowadays... I feel like there's something else, but it's evading me right now. Do you bite your nails? No, I pick/peel at them. :x What’s the longest nap you’ve ever taken? Oh god, hours. To the point it no longer really qualifies as a "nap." When people ask you about school, what is your usual response? Do you enjoy talking about school? Why or why not? I get all awkward and just reply that I gave it numerous shots, but my mental health couldn't handle it. I hate talking about school because I feel like a failure. Do you know how to fill a car’s tire with air? Have you ever had to do it? No to both. Do you like your best friend’s parents? Why or why not? Omg I LOVE them. They are spectacular people with massive hearts. I especially am drawn to her dad, whom I find incredibly inspiring. Both her parents are just great. I miss 'em. What do you like in your hot cocoa - marshmallows, whipped cream, candy canes? Do you even like hot cocoa? I loooove hot chocolate. I really just prefer it plain, but you can toss a few marshmallows in there. Which do you have a problem with: over-eating or under-eating? I'm way more likely to over-eat than under-eat. A girl likes her food lmao. The last boy you kissed, good-looking? He's by no means ugly, but I wasn't physically attracted to him personally. Do you love him? Not romantically, but definitely platonically. Do you like cherry Pepsi? I like cherry Coke. I don't like Pepsi. When was the last time you were given flowers? Ummm... I want to say the last time was many years ago when Tyler visited for the first time when we started dating. What do you want to name your children? I don't want kids. But hypothetically, Alessandra and probably Damien. Would you ever write a letter to someone you haven’t met yet, like your future spouse? No. I'd probably get too emotional anyway. Do you carry a mirror in your purse? No. Do you believe that there is beauty in everything? I've always thought this was such a stupid idea that tries to make reason out of life and its tragedies. Like yeah, cancer, rape, murder, etc. are definitely "beautiful." There is absolutely no beauty in a vast plethora of things. The first time you smoked, did you cough like a fool? I've never smoked before. When you were younger, did you have a Neopets account? Oh, yes. I loooooved Neopets, but not quite as much as Webkinz. I've actually remade a Neopetz account multiple times because I'd forget my info, ha ha... Who was the last person you got in a fist fight with? I've never been in a physical fight. Did you and your mom ever have a big fight that caused you to move out? Not "move out," no. We did, however, have a fight where I stayed with Dad for I want to say a week, maybe a bit less. Do you dislike anyone? Why? Well, yes. I don't know anyone who doesn't dislike somebody. There are a few people, in my case, that I'm not going to spend time going through and pointing out what I don't like. Do you think you will be in a relationship 2 months from now? No. Do you always feel like you’re making mistakes? Like constantly. Does your animal sleep with you? Roman usually does, yeah. Do you have any baby pictures of yourself on your computer? No. Mom has those in photo albums. What kind was the last chip you ate? I want to say traditional Lays? It was at my nephew's bday party. Do you eat onion rings? No, I'm not a fan. What was the last thing to disgust you? I think it was some thumbnail I saw on YouTube, even though it was (weakly) blurred. Where do you see your ex in 5 years? "The" ex, I don't want to think about it. Probably somewhere great for him, but would break my heart if I knew. Do your parents swear? Dad swears big time, while Mom tries to hold it back. You won't hear her say something like "fuck" unless she is SERIOUSLY upset. Do you ever drink warm milk? Warm milk sounds literally disgusting. Would you be really upset if Facebook ceased to exist tomorrow? No. I literally just came back from my break from it, so it'd be more funny than anything. The universe's way of telling me "nah, son." Who do you know that wears the most makeup? My friend Summer, but then again she's a cosmetologist. Have you ever had bronchitis? No, thankfully. Jason had it BAD once and I will neeever forget that cough, good Lord. Do you like to wear makeup? I hate applying it more than anything. Like, I love that it can help me feel prettier, but I pretty much never wear it because it's just a pain to put on, especially by myself because I have bad tremors in my hands. How many times have you been to the ER? Way too many times for being suicidal. How often do you feel lonely? Honestly, pretty much always. When are you most uncomfortable? I dunno, man. I'm always uncomfortable about one thing or another. Has anyone ever revealed a secret about you? Not that I remember... Have you ever revealed anyone else’s secret? No, that is such a shitty thing to do. Have you ever had a family member/friend that was hospitalized? Yes. Have you ever been in trouble with the law? No. Is there anything you want to experiment with? I mean, nothing that quickly comes to mind. There are things I want to try, but nothing major. What do you hope happens to you after you die? Mixed feelings. Sometimes I hope there's some sort of nirvana-like state we experience, I think it'd be wonderful to be reunited with loved ones, but I also sometimes think it'd be best if we just... stopped existing. Consciousness just stops. I dunno. I'll find out eventually. What is the most disgusting thing you have seen in person (not on TV)? Probably a maggot-infested deer corpse that I faintly remember from where I used to live. I thought it was the sickest thing ever lmao, in both senses. What is something others make fun of you for? Always holding some sort of technology. Just don't fucking comment on it. It makes me self-conscious as hell. Is your life turning out like you pictured it would? QUITE THE FUCKING OPPOSITE. Do your initials spell out a word? No. Has anyone ever given you roses? Yeah. Last baby you held? My older sister's youngest daughter. Whose wedding were you in the first time you were a bridesmaid or groomsman? My aforementioned sister's. What is something you would never do to your body? I mean, there's a large number of things. There are certain piercings and tattoos I wouldn't dare to get, I plan on taking care of my hair as best I can to avoid ruining it despite wanting to dye it a lot... *shrug* Stuff like that. How are you planning to decorate your house for Halloween? I don't know if we'll decorate. We haven't really for a few years now... I don't have the motivation to do it myself, and now that it's just me and her and I'm grown up (I know, I'm laughing too), Mom doesn't really bother with doing it. I know I DO want to carve pumpkins this year, though. Dunno what, but I'll figure it out. Ever lived in a trailer park? No. Do you like salsa that has fruit in it? NOOOOOOOOOOO Can you count in binary? No. Do you like hard or soft pretzels better? I'll eat both, but I have a strong preference for soft ones. When was the last time someone kissed you on the cheek? Who was it? I'm sure that was either my niece of nephew when I was leaving their house when I last visited for Ryder's birthday. What kind of ice cream did you eat last? Where’d you get it from? It was chocolate. I had a scoop at the aforementioned birthday party. Do you like flowers? What is your favorite kind to receive? I love flowers. I don't have a favorite to receive, really. Have you ever unblocked someone that you blocked before? Yes. Has anyone slapped you across the face before? If so, why? No. Do you prefer to have more or less in common with your significant other? I like to be pretty similar. Would you take a shot of heroin for a million dollars? No. I don't fuck with that, even for that much money. Why don’t you talk to your ex anymore? He wants nothing to do with me. Do you think it is okay to drive while high? Obviously not...? Do you find Halloween or Valentine’s Day more exciting? Halloween. Has anyone you know ever had serious surgery before? Yeah; my mom immediately comes to mind in both instances she had cancer. When she had kidney cancer, the tumor was larger than the kidney itself, and she lost the entire organ. When she had ovarian cancer, she had to have a complete hysterectomy because the cancer was EVERYWHERE along her reproductive system to an almost fatal degree. My mom's pretty metal. If you had the last person you kissed’s Facebook password, would you go snooping through their stuff? Why or why not? No, because that's a violation of privacy? You don't do that shit. Have you ever fainted? If so, when was the last time? If not, have you ever came close to? Yes. The only time that I remember was maaaany years ago, like, maybe '14. I've nearly fainted plenty of times since then for various reasons, but mostly just from low blood pressure. Ever take a keyboarding class? Do you type using the skills you learned in that class or how you used to before you took the class? Yes; I believe one course was mandatory in middle school. I type the proper way, yeah. Ever cut your hair (the entire thing – not just the bangs or a little part) yourself? Noooo. Would you ever open your own business? If so, what kind of business could you imagine yourself having? Well, I'd like to be a freelance photographer, but to be real, I'm starting to loosen up on that dream. It's been too long, I just don't see it happening anymore. Baby steps are one thing, but I've barely managed any of those in forever. Ever meet and talk to someone from an online dating site? No. Would you date someone you weren’t physically attracted to? Why or why not? Yes; I've done it before. I just care way more about emotional chemistry. Besides, historically, me liking someone for their heart has made each person a lot more attractive to me as a whole. Last person to hang up on you? I dunno. What’s your favorite scary movie? The Blair Witch Project. The second one is great, too, plus The Crazies. Which urban legend is your favourite? Oh man, you can't ask me this. I LOVE cryptids and conspiracies 'n shit. Are any of your fears completely irrational? Yes, like whale sharks. A whale shark ain't gonna hurt u boo but I see that mouth and am like no thnx Where is the light switch in your room? Funnily enough, I don't have a light switch; there isn't a ceiling light in this room. I instead have two table lamps that I can turn on on either side of my bed. Would you make a good lawyer? Hell no, I cry when I argue lmao. It's funny tho because I remember in TWO instances, in-depth surveys recommending jobs for you brought up me being a lawyer, and each time I was just like,,,,, no???????? Why did your family decide to live where you’re living now? It was more necessity than anything. Our old house had a LOT of issues to it, and with Mom's cancer diagnosis, she needed the cleanest environment possible, and that was NOT our old place. The house we live in now is owned by a family friend, and when the previous owner died, the timing just... kinda worked out to where that family friend I mentioned helped us pay our way into here. We really don't like this place because of the location, but it had to work. What was the best pet you've ever had? All things considered, I have to hand it to my boy Teddy. That dog was someone special. Very, very special. If you were allowed one murder without punishment, would you do it? Nah. Name one song you can play on an instrument, any instrument! I can probably still slam out "Hot Cross Buns" on a recorder. \m/ Have you ever ridden on a motorcycle? Noooo, I'm scared to. On the opposite sex, do you prefer muscles, average size, or scrawny bodies? It depends on the person, ig. I can be attracted to any of those. Just not EXTREME muscle. Not my thing at all.

#survey #surveys #random questions #lyrics: ''thoughts & prayers" by motionless in white

1 note · View note

iggy-dearest · 5 years ago

Text

Happy valentines day Vergil

Vergil peeks out from the shelter of his pages for what seemed like the thousandth time that day.

Valentines Day

You two used to celebrate it before your ‘unplanned separation’. However, since he then decided to stay by your side and be the dutiful husband that you deserve. And he’s determined to treat you liek the queen you are. He doesn’t know what to do, every plan he comes up with just seems to have an equally horrible chance of blowing up in his face!

Your poor husband

Should he take you out?

No you don’t like crowded areas that much. What if you have a panic attack while your with him. He doesn’t want you to feel scared!

Should he make a homemade gift?

No, he’s never been good with crafts, that’s more of your forte.

What if he takes you to one of those spa’s you and the other women go to your occasionally?

No, you don’t like certain people touching you and it also seemed like something you did with just the girls, and Dante said. Whatever the hell that means.

Maybe he should make you some dinner?

Although, he really can’t cook, like at all. He remembers when you first started traveling together in your teenage years, he nearly burned down that cheap hotel room. ‘How do you burn water’ was your question. He never got near the stove again, traumatized and deeply embarrassed by the fact that he’d burned water. Although he supposes tea counts? Doesn’t it?

Tea!

He should get you tea. You appreciate it as much as he does. As far as he knows your taste in tea hasn’t changed much. He also noticed that you seem to be running out of your favorite blend and if he remembers correctly it isn’t very easy to come by.

Perhaps he could somehow get Dante to leave you alone for the night? Although he wonders how he should approach the matter with him.

The door opening as abruptly as it did was what snapped him out of his thoughts and what made you jump in your seat. “I’m back!!!” Dante hollered like he was on the worlds biggest sugar high. “Why are you yelling” you asked, although you don’t know if you want to know the answer. You spotted the familiar shaped box in his hands, “did someone get a treat” you teased with a glint in your eye that made your husband weak in the knees. “You bet your ass I did” Vergil saw the smile on your face when you saw Dante sporting his own. A feeling gurgled in his stomach, why did you have to be so close with Dante?

Taking a box into your hand you saw a name written in beautiful penmanship,,, one Dante never could have forged even on his best day. “Who’s Sandy” you asked propping yourself up on the desk. “New girl at Sammy’s” Dante said now sitting in your old seat behind the desk. “Oh~” you know who he’s talking about she looked young apparently has a really big crush on Dante.

“Either of you get any yet?” Dante questioned

“No, not that I know of” you sighed out,stretching your back out, how long have you been sitting in that chair. “I think I’m gonna head home for the day. Okay?” You asked.

You honestly have no idea what your gonna do, you just don’t wanna stay with him anymore. You don’t know if he’s going to try anything with you. Quite frankly if he does it means he’s trying to wine you back, which is confusing for its own reasons and if he doesn’t it means that he doesn’t want you anymore which hurts more then it sounds like. You just don’t know. Maybe you should just go home, listen to some opera to clear your head make some tea to calm you down and maybe watch a movie. A silent film seems fitting and not as pathetic as your love life.

“Ok” Dante agreed, what the hell has his idiot brother been doing this whole time. Honestly, does he not see a perfect opportunity when it happens to be standing a few feet away from him and is walking out the door.

“See you tomorrow” and with that you leave to drown yourself in tea and perhaps some wine.

“What the hell have you been doing for the past 3 hours, Vergil?!?” Dante yells.

Vergil turns his head to the window once he sees you cross the street he gets up himself. Time to get his affairs in order, Dante straightens up as he sees his brother get up from his seat.

Is he going to stab him?

On Valentine’s Day

Nice way of showing your brotherly love, asshole.

The younger twin watches as his brother wordlessly puts his book down on the coffee table and walks out of the establishment. Heading in the opposite direction that you were in.

Where the hell was he going?

~~~

It’s here he knows it’s on this block. You mentioned a new tea shop that had just opened up that carried your favorite blend. He knows because the look on your face was not one he could ever forget. Vergil walked down the street although it seemed more like cantering. His eyes strained a bit from the light reflecting on the shops naked windows. Than back to the small scrap of paper he had jostled down the name of the store.

Infused

Was the name. Simple easy to remember, he likes it.

Walking inside he is greeted to a mix of smells. The strongest being from the fruity blends that you happen to dislike. He doesn’t much like them either.

“Welcome” said a store clerk. The clerk approached him “Hi I’m Joshua, if you need any help, just ask me” he said with a well practiced smile.

When did humans get so..nice?

“I’m looking for a specific blend” Vergil started. “Peppermint lavender” he finished dammit if only he’d taken the nearly empty container. That would definitely help his situation. “We have a few choices, if you’d like I can bring them out and you can see which one it is that you’re looking for” wow, when did humans become so helpful.

Vergil nodded he didn’t usually prolong his time with others, but for you he’d do just about anything. Because you’re worth it, you always have been. He was just a fool and didn’t always see it.

He heads to the counter where the salesman has all the teas laid out for him. He squints his eyes as he trues to remember what your container looked like. It was...white..with purple outlining.

The salesman watches as the man who’s face looked like it was chisled out if marble and looked like he should be at a fantasy fair tried to make up his mind. He hopes he doesn’t choose the one thats mainly white, he’s had his eye on that one for a while and it the last one!

“This one” Vegil decides pointing to the one that’s the most similar to yours. He really hopes that it’s right, it’d be really embarrassing if it wasn’t.

Shit!

He choose the one he had his mind on. Maybe he could just say that it’s been reserved?

No, the salesman saw him before he walked into the store. He actually walked past it a few times too, but he had a look on his face that screamed ‘determination’. The salesman sighs internally, he probably needs it more then he does.

“Excellent choice” he says his rehearsed line and moves to the cashier.

~~~

Vergil hopes he’s not to late. He runs through the street. It’s getting late, he’d stopped to pick up some takeout that you liked courtesy of Dante for the information. He wants to get there before 8 o’clock otherwise he’d come off as wanting sex.

Wouldn’t he?!?!

And then he remembers, he’s got a sword that allows home to teleport. Really Vergil crosses his mind. With two precise swings he is at your apartment building.

However, this might be the hardest part. Going to the door of the woman your head-over-heels for and asking for her to let you into her safe space.

~~~

You sigh that’s enough of the silent films. Maybe you can leech off of your sister-in-law’s disney account. You decide Disney makes everything better. It even makes you feel better then you crazy love life.

You look at your glass, shit! That was your last spot of tea. Oh well, that just means you’ll have to break out the wine. What goes better together then Disney and wine.

You’re about to get up and stretch when in the place of hearing a tired joint popping, you hear a knock. Who the fuck knocks at, you peer at the time on the cable, 7:50pm. It had better not be your annoying neighbor, your not in the mood for his dumbassery. You’d much rather just sock him in the chin or slam the door on his nose, either work for you.

The knocking comes again. “I’m coming” you’ve decided it’s not your neighbor, they wouldn’t have waited so long to place their next knock.

So who the hell is it?

“Vergil” is the only word to make it out of your mouth as you open your door. What is he doing here. He looks a bit out of breath, is he alright?

“Hello”..hello...hello. Who the fuck even says hello anymore. Thats it Vergil’s used up all of his confidence. Why is it that he can face demons with no problem yet he can’t even face his love without freezing up. “Um,” what the hell are you supposed to say. “Is everything alright” you let out, sort of leaning and hiding behind your door. That door is your best defense right now if anything happens or if you just wanna slam it in his face because he talked out of his ass.

“Yes-no-uhm” christ can someone help him.

“Happy Valentine’s Day” he mumbles

“What” you ask, he must be nervous if he’s mumbling around you. Though, you’re glad you still have that effect on him.

“Happy Valentine’s Day” he finally manages, his voice filled with a bit more confidence than before.

You watch as he hands you a cylindrical container. It looks familiar to you, “this is..” you’re surprised he noticed “where did you find it” your so surprised, that’s good right? “The tea shop you mentioned” was his only answer “Vergil, I mentioned that weeks ago” your surprised he still remembered, even you didn’t remember it all the time despite being a frequent costumer there. Your glad that he did though-oh is that Chinese food.

“Thank you” sincerity dripped through your voice, and for that it’s worth it for him. You’re worth it, you always will be. “Would you..like to have dinner” now your surprised “I’d love too” you moved aside and let him in. You hope he likes Disney.

~~~

Vergil could not be happier then he is in this moment. You asleep and curled into his side, empty plastic containers strewn put on the coffee table complete with disposable chopsticks. With a Disney movie ‘Alaadin’ you said the name was, illuminating the otherwise dark apartment. He sees you shiver slightly, he takes the throw blanket that is draped over the back of the couch and lays if on you, his neck will hurt in the morning but he really doesn’t care. He’s not moving, no man in the world would. He slowly reached for the remote and turned the TV off.

I love you, he thinks as he starts to drift off.

I love you, you think as you snuggle closer into the source of your warmth, and you have a feeling that it won’t go away anytime soon.

142 notes · View notes