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codename-mom · 6 months ago

Text

Paternity test

Summary: Aaron has doubt about Jack being his now he is nine and still doesn't look like him. Dave tries to find a solution to reassure him, but it can be a double-edged sword.

Characters: BAU team (Callahan era) + Jack Hotchner

Contents: TW mention of Haley's cheating, alcohol, anxiety and I think that's all.

PS : English is not my mother language so they are necessarily mistakes. Sorry about that.

___

Jack finished his exercise and looked up at his father. He hadn't moved an inch since he himself had sat down at the living room table to begin his homework. The giant was concentrating on his computer screen, eyebrows furrowed, lips pursed, his right hand regularly twitching, as it always did when he was deep in thought. The little boy got down from his chair and walked towards the sofa, his heart pounding. He wasn't afraid of his sire, but he still impressed him a little.

“Dad?”

“Yes, Jack,” he answered without looking at him.

“Can you check if it's okay?” he asked, placing his notebook on the armrest.

“I'm listening,” affirmed Aaron, his attention still fixed on the monitor.

“It's not math, it's grammar.”

The titan immediately ceased his activity and turned his attention back to his pocket roommate. Jack smiled at him, sketching a discreet chuckle. Then he picked up his notebook and read his lines in silence under the toddler's worried gaze. His father spoke much better than most of his teachers and other parents, and he had told him many times that knowing how to write properly would be an asset for his future life. In fact, the boy could feel the pressure on his shoulders as the director's brown irises leapt from one word to the next. It was hard to tell from his unexpressive face whether he was satisfied with his work or not.

“Reread the third sentence,” he said, finally giving him back his possession.

“What did I miss?” he interrogated him, disappointed that he hadn't got it right the first time.

“I don’t know, think.”

His ascendancy rarely made it easy for him to understand his mistakes. For many things, he let him analyze, study and dig for himself, before providing the explanation he needed, when necessary. For others, he readily agreed to teach him what he knew, just as he also took the time to listen to the results of his own discoveries. Jack loved these moments of exchange between them, and cherished them all the more as his father wasn't often at home. And when he was, he sometimes carried on with his duties as branch manager, forgetting about his offspring. Which he appreciated less and less.

“What are you doing?” he questionned as the colossus fell back into his trance.

“Research.”

“For work?”

Aaron didn't react on the spot, squinting his eyelids, before suddenly flinching as he met his gaze.

“… What? No, I... he stammered, his pupils shifting from him to the screen. I’m actually looking for a new place to live.”

“Why?”

He hadn't expected this.

“Because this one isn't very practical for either of us. Especially now that you're older.”

“Why?”

“You need a bigger bedroom, and I need an office where I can work without blocking your access to the living room.”

Instinctively, he looked towards the corridor at the end of which was his den. When he'd had to move in for good, he'd had a hard time adjusting to the old-fashioned decor, the noisy surroundings and the smallness of the place. Now he knew all its nooks and crannies by heart and felt at home here.

“Where are we going?” he worried instantly.

“Not that far, don’t be afraid. I'll make sure you stay at the same school so you can keep your friends, Aaron declared with a smile. And, in any case, we can't go too far away. I have to stay close to Quantico and I can't make your aunt travel miles for you.”

His father's large hand passed through his hair and lingered on his cheek. The FBI agent was smiling in a very exceptional way, but the whole physiognomy of his face, usually hard and cold, changed all at once. All the sweetness in his heart seemed to emerge from its hiding place and envelop him tenderly, soothing him instantly.

“Did you find something?”

“Not yet. But maybe you could help me, he asserted, looking at him. After all, you have a say in it, since you'll be living in it.”

Forgetting his English exercises altogether, he climbed onto the sofa beside him and pressed himself against his arm.

“What should I do?” he inquired, delighted to be able to support him.

“Look at the photos with me and tell me what you think. Would you?”

“Yeah.”

“So correct your third sentence and we'll take care of this.”

“Okay,” he yielded, picking up his notebook again.

Later, on a Monday, Dave invited himself into Hotch's office to let him know it was time for lunch. But as soon as he saw his drawn features and low expression, he knew something was wrong. He approached and shouted:

“What’s going on? And watch what you say.”

His superior had a nasty habit of insisting that everything was fine, when it absolutely was not. A protective reflex that had already played many tricks on him. But the manager didn't fight. He sighed and settled back in his seat, pushing back the folder in his hand.

“…This weekend, Jack and I visited several homes. The other one's getting too small for the two of us, and I need a more suitable workspace than the living room,” he explained as Rossi sat down opposite him.

“Sounds like a good idea. But I have the impression that the hunt wasn't a good one.”

“In fact, one of them might do the trick, but... - he hesitated – that's not really the point. I didn't really expect to find the gem right away.”

Given the high demand and indecent real estate prices in the capital, it would indeed have been naive to think you'd hit the jackpot on your first try.

“So why the long face?”

“Because of the reaction of the real estate agents when they saw me arrive with Jack. You… you should have seen their faces.”

Surprisingly, Aaron wasn't looking at him, his irises turned to an invisible spot on his desk. He looked defeated.

“Well, what?” his mentor said impatiently, perplexed.

“None of them thought for a moment that that kid with me was my son, he revealed, staring at him at last. And even when Jack called me “Dad”, they still had their doubts.”

“Aren't you being a little dramatic?”

With his former disciple's tendency to see the glass as half-empty, the former retired doubted the accuracy of his statement.

“No. Many asked to see Jack's identity papers, even though they were of no use in completing the application files.”

He had to admit that this supported his hypothesis and he understood better why he wasn't particularly happy. He dared to put things in perspective:

“At least they check.”

“Dave, these people were convinced I was a pedophile looking for a new hideout!” snapped his wounded interlocutor.

“Aaron…”

“And, at the same time, they have good reason to think so,” he continued, looking downcast.

“Why?”

The novelist had no idea why he would say such a thing. He was used to hearing him self-inflict a multitude of imaginary defects, but this one was beyond comprehension. Especially as there was nothing innocuous about it.

“Look at him, Hotch resumed, flipping the frame on his desk. Look at him and tell me where I am.”

A frozen Jack on glossy paper gave him a radiant smile, his straight, light hair waving in a passing breeze.

“He’s still a child, Aaron.”

“He's nine! the ex-prosecutor reminded him. It's high time he showed some of his father's physical traits. Except he doesn’t. Jack, it’s clearly Haley and... someone else.”

“Don’t say that.”

“So, tell me! Tell me what he took from me.”

Uneasy, Rossi lowered his eyes to the toddler's portrait and carefully observed his eyes, nose, ears, chin... Apart from the color of his irises – which could also be his mother's – it was difficult to identify his sire's features. However, the elder felt that the kid was still too young to express all his genetic characteristics. Besides, he didn’t like what it implied.

“See. Even you can't answer that.”

“You realize you're implying that Haley went elsewhere.”

“But she went somewhere else, Dave, he asserted without preamble. One… one day when I was unusually at home, someone called. I picked up the phone and nobody answered. There was a silence and then they hang up. Right after that, someone called on Haley’s cell phone. I didn't make the connection with Jack this day, but now it's so obvious that he's not mine.”

The BAU co-founder realized that it had been eight years since his opposite had kept his wife's betrayal to himself, and he was touched that he hadn't been in the loop at the time. Why hadn't he told him about it? He'd been living with this memory for almost a decade, and it must have crushed his self-esteem when he realized that Haley hadn't had the respect for him that he'd had for her in the twenty-five years they'd been together. A memory that continued to undermine even now.

“Aaron, maybe it was someone who had the wrong number.”

“When you get the wrong number, do you just hang up?”

“… No,” he conceded, honest.

“You apologize and explain that you made a mistake. Haley didn't ask for a divorce because I was never around, but because I was too much and had discovered the truth.”

Dave easily perceived the anger rolling through his veins. Even after so much time, even after everything that had happened, he was still furious. The question was, against whom? The most likely answer was: his partner at the time. But Hotch was a complex person who had very little regard for himself, and his eldest wouldn't have been surprised if he resented him too.

“Wait, that doesn't mean that Jack isn't yours. It's playing with fire to have a child with someone other than your husband.”

“Except when the husband doesn't want children.”

Taken aback by this outburst, he widened his eyelids, questioning the giant with his eyes.

“She wanted that kid so badly; she could have done just that. And, once pregnant, she did what it took to convince me to take the plunge.”

He glimpsed a side of Aaron's private life he'd never known about before. The couple he had formed with Haley at that moment had seemed so harmonious that he hadn't questioned further why they had remained childless for so long.

“For… for years, she had put her desire for motherhood on the back burner, but suddenly it became urgent. She put me on the spot for it, he added, his eyes shining. And, as luck would have it, it worked the first time. Normally, it takes several attempts to make it work, even for couples who have frequent relations. But not us. I'm sure of it now, she was already pregnant and I find myself raising someone else's kid.”

“Hold on, Aaron. Breathe. All this is just speculation.”

He ignored all the statistics that ran through his brain about the number of tries one had to go through to get it right – even more so when the mother-to-be was in her forties – just as he refrained from bouncing on the fact that Haley had obviously taken advantage of her husband's unconditional love for her to finally accede to her request. Even if the evidence seemed to be mounting, he couldn't overlook the fact that he didn't hold all the cards and that, even if she had gone elsewhere, there was no proof that she had played him to such an extent.

“What are you going to do anyway? Abandon Jack?”

“No, he retorted immediately. I… I can’t do that. He… he’s not to blame. And… if I couldn't be his biological father, I could always be his... his legal guardian.”

Dave was struck by the sadness that emanated from these last words. Even if he hadn't actually experienced it, becoming a father was an incredible opportunity, a stage of life like no other. All of a sudden, you found yourself propelled into a completely different dimension, where care freeness disappeared, replaced by a constant attention to detail. One was brutally invested with a long-term mission, which consisted in bringing an innocent and pure being to become strong and skilful enough to survive the ferocity of life; all without turning them into a bloodthirsty and cruel monster. Becoming a father meant making millions of sacrifices and compromises every day for the sake of a single individual; it meant facing up to fears and repulsions, ignoring fatigue, silencing anxieties, mastering annoyance, monitoring one's own behavior, weighing one's words and being able to give it all up when necessary. All this without even knowing if the child will return the favor one day.

Being a legal guardian was a soulless legal term for the fact that you were just a name on an administrative document.

“But, you know there's a way to check if there's a genetic link between the two of you.”

“I won't do a test,” rebelled Aaron, adamant.

“Why not?”

“No. Imagine that... that he really wasn't mine. What should I do? Tell him nothing, at the risk that he might discover the truth later? Telling him the truth and destroying his mother's image and the pretend balance we've both managed to achieve? I… - he sighed. At least, at the moment, I'm still left with the doubt that he's mine.”

Rossi left the office and joined the team gathered in the corridor, ready to go down for lunch. Their brows furrowed as soon as they noticed their superior's absence.

“Isn't he coming with us?” worried Penelope.

“No. He’s… he’s cogitating.”

“What? What's that supposed to mean?” grumbled Derek, unsettled.

“Cogitate comes from the Latin cogitare, which means... began Spencer, before all eyes turned to him. That wasn't what you meant, was it?”

Morgan shook his head jaded, but said nothing.

“Aaron thinks Jack isn't his.”

“Again?” exclaimed JJ.

Everyone stared at her, surprised.

“I'm sorry, but this idea has been on his mind for some time now, she justified herself, a little embarrassed. Everyone tells him that Jack looks like his mother and never like him. After a while, I can see why the idea would catch on.”

“When they're born, babies resemble their sire so that the latter can attach more easily to the newborn and thus provide it with all the protection it needs,” declared Reid, perhaps a little too cheerfully.

“Who did Jack look like when he was born?” bounced Kate, who didn't even know what the child looked like now.

The two blondes glanced at each other awkwardly and replied in unison:

“… Haley.”

“Wait, interjected Derek, suddenly enthusiastic, Jack has brown eyes and so does Hotch.”

“Around eighty percent of the world's population has brown eyes.”

“Reid, I'm trying to make a case for Hotch, he growled, letting his shoulders fall back. Don’t help me there.”

Dave refrained from hammering the point home by reminding the ex-policeman that the boy's mother also had brown eyes.

“Sorry, but the only way to be sure Hotch and Jack are related is to have them take a DNA test,” the multi-graduate defended himself.

“He doesn’t want to.”

“Why?”

“Because without it, he still has the illusion of being his father.”

His reply cast a chill over the assembly. The few snatches of a smile that remained disappeared in a flash, and discomfort seized everyone.

“It's so sad,” commented Garcia, tears welling up in her eyes.

“At the same time, I've always thought Jack had a false air of Sean about him,” said the ex-officer liaison, in a very small voice.

“Seriously?” choked Rossi, blown away by this thought.

“It's true that it could explain the hair color,” supported the technician, who didn't dare meet his gaze.

“Who’s Sean?”

Attention turned to the newcomer to the team, whose embarrassment had given way to confusion.

“He's Hotch's younger brother, Spencer explained. They don’t look alike at all.”

Which was saying a lot. As tall as each other, the resemblance ended there. Aaron was as dark-haired as Sean was blond, and his dark irises were set against a much more attractive blue-gray. And then there were their differences in character: the former's straightforwardness didn't go at all well with the latter's carefree attitude. While both had criminal records, the elder had settled down before he came of age, while the younger was multiplying offences now that he was an adult.

“Hotch took from his mother and Sean from his father,” continued JJ, helping her colleague understand the situation.

“How likely is it that Hotch passed on his own father's physical characteristics to Jack?” suggested Kate, very seriously.

“That’s a good question. If we assume that his mother's alleles are all dominant...”

“We're going to do a DNA test,” proclaimed Rossi, cutting Reid off who was, in his opinion, putting a little too much effort into this sordid calculation given the context.

“What?” croaked the group, bewildered.

He'd expected this reaction, but the Las Vegas native was right: it was the only way to get to the bottom of the story.

“At least we'll know for sure.”

“How do you plan to do it? Derek questioned, eyebrows furrowed. Recovering Hotch's DNA shouldn't be a problem; all you have to do is steal his mug...”

“The DNA of all FBI agents is recorded in the national database so that it can be discarded when analyzing crime scenes.”

“Thank you, Reid.”

“You're welcome,” replied the latter, as cheerful as his colleague was weary.

Morgan sighed and resumed:

“How do you plan to get Jack's DNA?”

“JJ, I thought I'd put you to work.”

“Me? Gasped the interested party, unsettled. But… how?”

“You could organize a brunch with Will where you invite them both. Henry and Jack will be happy to play together, and Aaron won't suspect a thing.”

He'd come up with this plan in the very short time between their conversations, but it seemed feasible. And, by leaning on the young woman, he thought he wouldn't arouse the giant's natural distrust, which, after their conversation, might put distance between the two of them. If only to avoid being told to do the test over and over again.

“Are we talking about the results? Intervened Penelope. What are we going to do once we get them? We're not going to tell him that Jack isn't his, even if it were true.”

“Of course not. The whole plan relies on him not knowing about the test. In fact, if it's not in his favor, we won't tell him anything – and he'll keep hoping he's his real father – and if it is in his favor, we'll be able to prove to him that Jack is really his, he unrolled before adding. And he'll be too relieved to give us the hell for doing the test behind his back.”

The profilers and the analyst watched him as if they'd just suggested bungee jumping off the Empire State Building on a windy day. They, who were so quick to pounce on the slightest crumb concerning their superior's intimate life, retreated with great strides when he offered them a scoop on a silver platter.

“Not all at once.”

They exchanged questioning glances, then JJ spoke again:

“Okay. I’m in.”

“Thanks for your support.”

As agreed, JJ invited the Hotchners, father and son, to lunch at her home one weekend, and she met Dave in his office to entrust him with the few hairs she'd been able to remove from Jack's jacket. That same evening, the agency's eldest went to the analysis laboratory, where he knew one of the employees. The woman in question was a little younger than he, and they had seen each other on occasion outside of the professional context. Intelligent and endowed with a certain charm, she didn't shy away from propriety. In private, at least; at work, it was a different story, and he was going to have to convince her to help him despite the unofficial nature of his request.

“Hi, Dave, she said with a smile as she saw him enter her den. What brings you to this part of the world?”

“I’ve got a favor to ask.”

“I thought so too,” she ironized, resting the notepad in her hand on the bench behind her.

“I'll need to look for a DNA match.”

“Which file is it for?” she inquired, activating the nearby monitor.

She settled down on the stool, ready to launch a computer search so that she could attach the results to the ongoing investigation. Rossi couldn't lie on this point, but he was equally put off by the idea of unpacking Aaron's intimate life to this scientist who was a stranger to the titan.

“It’s… confidential.”

“Are you serious right now?” she retorted immediately, swiveling her seat in his direction.

She knew perfectly well what this formulation meant.

“I can’t tell you more.”

“Then, I won’t do anything. These machines are worth a fortune, and we don't run them for nothing.”

He then realized that there must have been some abuse lately, and that the laboratory workers were being watched. He didn't know how it all worked in practice but wasn't surprised to hear her put the financial argument of the procedure on the table. However, he didn't trust those online sites that offered DNA tests for a fee; just as he couldn't see himself contacting an analyst in whom he didn't have absolute confidence. The hostess stared at him, waiting for further explanation.

“Okay, okay, he yielded, raising his hands in front of him. I have a friend who's convinced his kid isn't his. I'd like to prove him wrong for once.”

She frowned.

“You know this kind of bet is a double-edged sword?”

“If he's right, he won't know.”

“But you’ll know.”

“I'll deal with it, he swept with his most casual air. How soon can you get me the results?”

He handed her the sample taken by the former liaison officer. She took it and sighed, before giving him a discreet smile.

“I’ll give you a call when it’s done.”

“Thank you.”

“Wait until you get the results before thanking me.”

A week passed, during which a certain tension gripped him from morning to night, and he was relieved to see a message from the coroner appear on his phone screen. He didn't yet know what she had to tell him, but the simple fact that his mission was progressing soothed him. He left Quantico earlier that day to see her. She was in the same place as last time and handed him an unmarked envelope.

“So?” he inquired, curious all the same.

“I'll let you find out. All I can tell you is that the father has a record.”

Which, in itself, did not exclude Aaron. Indeed, shortly after he and Gideon had decided to give the young prosecutor a chance to join the fledgling BAU, the HRD's vetting department had alerted them to the fact that he had a juvenile criminal record. He and his then accomplice had asked to take a look at it, only to discover that the obviously angry pre-adolescent had abruptly mellowed out three years before coming of age, never to leave the beaten track again. And apart from a few outrages against law enforcement officers, he had committed no crime that would prevent them from hiring him. But that didn't mean he was Jack's father, either; only that Haley had messed around with someone who hadn't been above the law at some point in her life.

“… Okay. Thanks.”

He started to walk away when the scientist called out to him:

“Hey, Dave! It’s not for free.”

“What do you want?” he replied, unsurprised by her remark.

“Look at the results first, then we'll discuss about it.”

Rossi's usual plan was to go home, open the envelope and pour himself a glass of twelve-year-old whisky to celebrate the fact that he'd been right, and could therefore reassure his superior and friend. But when he found himself sitting on his sofa, with that white rectangle in his hands, he couldn't go any further. What if it wasn't him? And what if Aaron's ex-wife really had slept with someone else to have the child she so dreamed of before she played her then-husband? Or, to put it more simply – and more commonly – had she had an ongoing extramarital relationship, forgotten to take her pill, or had unprotected sex and got pregnant afterwards? She would have backed her husband into a corner to cover her tracks. Unless she slept with both of them on the same day or within a very short period of time and didn't know which one was the father. There were so many plausible hypotheses that he didn't know which to believe.

He thought he could handle knowing the truth without blinking. But now that he was within a hair's breadth of knowing it all, he realized the implications and no longer felt as serene as he had at the start of his quest. Could he still look Hotch in the eye, smile at him, and joke with him and, above all, watch him interact with Jack knowing, in fact, that they were not related at all? How long could he keep this information secret? What would the agency director's reaction be when he heard that he was right and, what's more, that his mentor had hatched a whole plan behind his back and then kept quiet about it?

The next morning, he returned to the FBI training center with the envelope still sealed in his hands. The whole team was eagerly awaiting him, huddled together in the bullpen area while their boss held yet another management meeting.

“You've got them, haven't you?” Spencer hooked him up, impatient.

“It seems so.”

“So?” bounced JJ.

He didn't answer, staring at the mail as if it were about to start talking.

“You didn't dare open the envelope, did you?” teased Derek, with a smirk.

“I'd like to see you in my shoes, kid.”

“If that’s all it takes.”

Morgan took the document from his hands, gestured to open it, and then froze. Dave took the opportunity to say:

“Think about the fact that you'll have to work alongside him knowing the truth. And perhaps this truth will have the power to destroy what little self-esteem and self-confidence he still has.”

The ex-policeman rolled his eyes and sighed before handing over his property. The novelist could have savored this victory if it hadn't brought them back to square one.

“What do we do? Should we abandon the project?” suggested the Chicago native.

“I'd love to know the results, honestly, Reid admitted, but I don't want to hurt Hotch.”

“And, at the same time, continued JJ, if this test proves that he's Jack's father, it'll take a burden off his mind.”

“So, we come back to my question: what do we do?”

Everyone casted questioning glances at each other. They wanted to help their colleague feel better, but none of them wanted to be the bearer of bad news, let alone spend the rest of their lives with the weight of the truth on their shoulders.

“In any case, there's no way I'm opening this envelope,” said Penelope, moving away from the group.

“I'll do it, decreed Dave, cheerlessly. It's my idea, and it's up to me to accept the consequences to the end.”

“But if the results are negative, does that mean you'll be willing to take on the job of reassuring him again on the matter, when you'll actually know it's wrong?” pointed out Kate, dubiously.

“Ouch!” commented Spencer, his irises leaping from his female coworker to his elder.

He hadn't thought of that possibility either, but threw out:

“Somebody's got to open the damn envelope.”

“Is there a problem?”

The team gasped as they heard the cavernous voice behind them. They turned as one to see their leader standing beside them. They'd been so absorbed in their discussion that they'd stopped paying attention to their surroundings. Hotch looked at them blankly for a moment, then looked at the envelope in turn.

“What is it?”

“What? Ah! Stammered Rossi, unease. Uh… these are the results of a medical test I took.”

“A test? For what?” worried the giant, his eyebrows more furrowed than usual.

“No big deal. It's more of a routine check-up.”

He had tried to adopt his most detached attitude, but the expression on his interlocutor's face proved that he had not achieved his objective.

“Dave, would you tell me if something serious was happening to you?”

“Of course, Aaron. You’d be the first to know.”

The interested party seemed even more concerned, but the ringing of a distant telephone made him look up at his desk.

“I have to go. Don’t forget to keep me in touch.”

“Everything is fine, don’t worry.”

The BAU co-founder patted Hotch on the shoulder as he walked away from them, and they watched him climb the ramp to the walkway and disappear into his office. A general sigh passed through the federal agents' rib cages.

“Are your legs shaking too?” Garcia asked, leaning on the nearest piece of furniture.

“If it was just the legs...” confirmed the other blonde on the team.

“Well done, Rossi,” congratulates sincerely Derek, who didn't seem to mind any more than his comrades.

“Fortunately, he always worries more about others than himself.”

It would have been a lie to say that he'd thought about it when he came up with this justification, but fact was that the giant's altruism and empathy had made things much easier for him.

“We might have to open that envelope now,” Callahan snapped, curious in spite of everything.

“Wish me good luck.”

Dave followed in Hotch's footsteps, but continued on his way to his own workspace, next to that of the colossus in the suit. He sat back in his chair and placed the envelope on his desk pad. He was afraid. Afraid to open the envelope and learn the truth. Afraid of condemning himself to silence for an indeterminate time. Afraid of having to lie for the rest of his life about the true nature of the bond between his friend and the boy he hoped would be his son. Afraid to face Aaron's scrutinizing gaze every time his insecurities resurfaced.

He knew that the man behind the wall behind his back hadn't chased fatherhood – his difficult childhood hadn't encouraged him to extend the lineage – but that he adored Jack, nonetheless. More than that, the former pensioner was convinced that if the little boy hadn't existed, Aaron probably wouldn't have found the strength to overcome all the hardships he'd been forced to endure. Without the toddler, he'd never have recovered from the death of the only woman he'd ever loved. He hung in there because there was a four-year-old who needed him. Then, little by little, he had gained confidence in his new role as a single father and, year after year, he had even managed to overcome his grief to the point of getting back together as a couple.

To reveal to him that Jack was not of his blood was to set him back almost a decade and annihilate all the efforts he'd made up to that point. It was tarnishing – ruining – the last nine years of his life, just as Haley had soiled their twenty-five years together by cheating on him and then filing for divorce. Dave hadn't been there for the birth of their child, but he'd been there for everything else, and he wasn't at all happy to destroy it. On the contrary, he really wanted to help his neighbor relieve his conscience of at least one of his anxieties. And for that, he had no choice but to throw himself into the lion's den.

He took a deep breath and picked up the envelope. So as not to back down again, he didn't wait to open it and extract the tri-fold sheet it contained. The paper was thick enough that nothing could be read from the outside. With his heart pounding against his ribs, he slowly unfolded the letter: first flap first, with the date, title, and laboratory logo; then the next two, clearly displaying the results. A long exhale escaped his lips.

A few moments later, the profilers saw their colleague cross the few meters separating his door from that of the manager. He had a serious look on his face. He knocked to signal his presence to Hotch, still on the line, who beckoned him in anyway.

“Listen, I understand your concerns, but my team is used to this kind of situation and... Yes, even agent Callahan… he affirmed, rolling his eyes. I don't think this information will be of any use to you... Very well, we'll discuss it in person... Of course… And I'll get back to you as soon as possible... Have a good day too.”

He hung up immediately afterwards and turned his gaze on Rossi, who was standing in front of him.

“Something tells me you're not going to answer them right away,” Dave said with a smirk.

“I have no idea why you would think that.”

“Intuition.”

They smiled in unison, then his superior became serious again.

“What can I do for you?”

“Read this.”

He placed the envelope on his desk.

“These are your medical results, he remarked, confused. It’s private.”

“You wanted to know if I was okay. You'll find the answer in here.”

“Why won’t you tell me?”

“Aaron, open this letter, please.”

Disconcerted by his insistence, the giant obeyed, not without some hesitation. His perplexity gave way to annoyance, however, when he read the document's subject.

“You did a DNA test?” he scolded, glaring at him.

“Keep reading.”

Hotch gulped. He was hesitating, logically. He hadn't asked to know because he didn't want to know. He didn't want to lose the person he loved most in the world. He didn't want to be reduced to a wallet on legs for Jack. Dave understood his reluctance, so he made sure to appear as relaxed as possible. Finally, the branch manager applied himself and unfolded the entire sheet. The features of his face suddenly distorted. Anger vanished and a daze overtook him. Then tears rolled silently down his cheeks.

“I’ll leave you to it. You know where to find me.”

Rossi left the office, leaving his tenant in shock, and rejoined the group that had gathered at the bottom of the ramp. Penelope had emerged from her lair and was watching him walk towards them, her eyes shining.

“So?” she asked, in chorus with JJ.

“It’s a boy.”

Relief and joy took hold of the whole assembly, which found itself smiling and colorful once again.

“Are we sure?” wished to clarify Derek.

“Yes, the match is there.”

“I've got to go and give him a hug!” stomped Garcia, tears of happiness escaping from behind her glasses.

“Penelope, give him time. He's got a few years' worth of doubts to sweep under the rug right now.”

“I'm so happy for him,” declared JJ, moved.

“Me too,” toped up Spencer, grinning from ear to ear.

“I don't know him as well as you do, but I must admit I'm relieved,” revealed Kate, who shared her peers' elation.

“Here he is!”

At the analyst's exclamation, all eyes turned to the manager's office from which Hotch had actually emerged. Letter in hand, he walked slowly towards them, a neutral expression on his face. The general jubilation subsided into discreet smiles. Their superior froze in front of them, and the tension spread to Dave and his neighbors. By having this test done without his knowledge, he had trampled on his privacy, something the giant abhorred. Whenever his men had started poking around in this area, he had always reacted very badly. It was probably the only thing that made him bang his fist on the table about them. Except that this time was different from all the others. He spread his arms and embraced his mentor, saying:

“Thank you.”

“Mazel tov,” exclamed the latter, responding to his embrace with a few friendly pats on the back.

“I'll never know how to thank you.”

“Stop doubting yourself.”

The titan smiled and detached himself from him, but not without keeping a hand on his shoulder. Rossi was delighted to see him so happy. He had succeeded in his gamble. His colleagues approached in turn, and Morgan extended his hand in the direction of the man he'd had to replace at short notice years earlier.

“Congratulations!”

“Thank you,” answered Aaron, squeezing his palm.

JJ was the next to congratulate him, but she allowed herself to give him a hug. Garcia then threw herself at him, her red cheeks bathed in tears.

“I am so, so, so happy for you! You have no idea.”

“Thank you, Penelope.”

Spencer dared an awkward embrace, offset by the radiant, confident smile that lit up his youthful features. Callahan waited for Hotch to face her before speaking:

“If all your affairs are resolved like this, I'll sign on for the next ten years.”

“I'll make a note of it, replied the ex-prosecutor, amused, before he regained his seriousness by enveloping them with his gaze. I… I should be mad at you for going behind my back, but...”

The end of his sentence disappeared into limbo, his smile revealing the depth of his thought. Dave guessed that he was a little embarrassed to be the center of attention, but that he wanted to share this moment of joy with them.

“Thank you.”

“You're welcome,” said Reid, proudly.

They all burst out laughing, dispelling the pressure that had been building up.

“How did you get Jack’s DNA, by the way?... Oh, the brunch,” he realized all by himself.

“Sorry,” apologized the culprit.

“Well done.”

JJ immediately blushed, touched by the compliment.

“Well. Clearly, I owe someone a meal now,” he stated as the team filed out of the open plan to retrieve their respective places, and he and Aaron returned to their desks.

“To who?”

“To the coroner who performed the test.”

“If that's all there is to it, just make an expense claim. I'll validate it with my eyes closed,” assured the colossus, ecstatic.

“It’ll be fine, he answered, laughing. Thanks.”

He squeezed the shoulder of his friend and, by now, official family man, before resuming his day's work. Curiously, despite the harsh news they received by email that day, the same calm smile remained on the lips of the BAU agents.

___

I'm still alive! Actually, I put my other works on hiatus just to write this for Father's day (which was last sunday in France), and I'm now back working on three CM AU at the same time. Yes, three. I'm crazy. XD

Well, I hope you've enjoyed your journey. ^^

PS: Yes, I know "Mazel tov" doesn't mean "congratulations" and Aaron knows it too, but Dave is always so cheerful when he's using it that he never told him that he's wrong. ^^;

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pinkpigtailsprincess · 5 months ago

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hi-hi !! i know you're on a lil' break right now so don't worry about not seeing this immediately but omg i just manifested for the first time !! you're like one of my fave LOA blogs cause of yr pink/girly theme so i wanted to send in my success story ♡🎀 i'm super new to law of assumption (i just discovered it this may) and my start was .. rocky to say the least. i ended up over-consuming way too much info on tumblr 'n stuff and psyching myself out, not to mention i was manifesting from a "i need/want this" rather than "i already have this, it just has yet to materialize" mindset. my anxiety coupled with my dependence on seeing results in the 3D had me wavering constantly ... it was crazy. it wasn't until i was in sum shitty circumstances that i was able to manifest. i was failing my math class (by like 3 points, nothing major) and summer school was a definite. this was my first time failing, and i was terrified of having my summer robbed from me because i was supposed to go vacationing, plus school just REALLY stresses me out. throughout the past week, i've been telling myself i don't have summer school, telling myself i was having the perfect summer, and scripting fun stuff i wanted to do. i conducted myself as if summer school did not exist, even when getting the papers to register. for the first time i did not waver. it's so weird, how i was able to succumb so easily to my inner voice when trying to manifest but as soon as i heard these unwanted thoughts from other people i understood how silly it was. it's strange, but finally hearing it out loud did it for me i guess ?? all it took was some robotic affirmation and correcting my thought patterns whenever it showed me something undesirable. just yesterday, i got the news i passed my math final. today, i saw my parents looking at hotels/making plans to go away to the same place i scripted !! this has really strengthened my confidence in my manifesting ability, like WOW it was really that easy lmao. anyways thanks 4 coming to my tedtalk :3

ANONIE!!! THATS LITERALLY AMAZING IM SO SO PROUD OF YOU !! 🤭🎀

YOU DESERVE YOU DID SO WELL I LOVE YOU TOO!

#2sweet2eat🎀🧁#ask ai’ya 📔

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cipheress-to-k-pop · 4 years ago

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Hello!! sorry to bother you could write a ben 10 x reader? (the reader is kidnapped by vilgax and ben has to save her, after that ben and the reader has an argument) please, i love your fics!!

Storm Before The Calm

Pairing: Pre-Established; Ben Tennyson x Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 3.4k words

A/N: I changed up the request a bit (I figured it shouldn't matter which villain was used here) also I was planning to have this as sort of a damsel in distress situation but after having a chat with some boys pigs I decided a self indulgant badass reader was right up my alley

Additional A/N: I have a math exam on Thursday and I cannot focus for the life of me. So, I decided to finish up one of my drafts. Now hopefully I'll be able to work like a robot for the next week, after satisfying my creative side. Also, this fic was super self indulgant.

"I trust Ben.” You did. With your entire being.

Kevin chuckled from beside you, “Yeah, try saying that without cracking the fillings in your teeth and maybe we’ll believe you.”

His words caused you to relax, only then realizing how hard your jaw was clenched in fury. Gwen sighed in disappointment and for a second you wanted to defend her cousin and your boyfriend. Until you realized that he deserved every bit of unbridled anger coming to him.

“I trust him. Doesn’t mean I’m not mad at him.”

Your hands were balled into tight fists and even though you wanted to take your eyes off the television screen and take a warm bath, you also for some reason couldn’t stop yourself from watching it.

Like you were afraid something would happen when your eyes were off the screen for even a second. Maybe you didn’t trust him.

But honestly how could you, you were currently watching your boyfriend relax in a hot tub with Jennifer Nocturne and the sight was enough to send bile up your throat.

Ben wasn’t returning any of her advances, but he wasn’t stopping her either. And the thought made you sick to your stomach. You knew Ben was faithful and you knew he would never cheat on you but watching how the Hollywood starlet continued to hang off him sent waves of jealousy through you.

Not to mention anger at the fact that he wasn’t doing anything to stop her. When he got back, you were going to wring his neck.

Trusting him was getting harder with Gwen constantly insisting that you dump him.

Honestly, you wondered how that girl even kept a relationship.

When Ben eventually came home, all the entertainment channels were still talking about the two of them and the well-known picture of Jennifer Nocturne kissing him was circulating about. Each time you looked at that image, you wanted to shoot an arrow at the TV.

As time went by, your anger slowly fizzled out. You were unable to maintain your rage at Ben, quickly getting a headache and feeling tired of trying to maintain negative emotions. Even then, you couldn't push down the uneasy feeling in your heart that seized your stomach.

You kept expecting a text message from Ben, an apology call but as the night proceeded you understood that he was having way too much fun with another woman to even think about how you must be feeling.

The thought of that made you want to go back home and crawl underneath the covers, hiding away from the rest of the world.

But Gwen was persistent and any time you tried to wiggle away from the pair of them and go home, she insisted that you stay and make sure Ben knew how upset he made you tonight.

You were more than happy to give your boyfriend the cold shoulder until he apologized rather than have to confront him. That was just how your relationship with Ben worked. Neither of you were the type to lose your tempers and yell and scream at each other.

Although you were worried what would come out of this. Would you be able to peacefully discuss your feelings and then come to some sort of conclusion civilly? Seems too good to be true honestly.

Even then you waited until Ben came home, listening to Gwen and Kevin about how you should rip the band aid off and get everything off your chest rather than ignore him for a couple of days until the two of you got bored.

Usually, the latter would work but you had an inkling that it wouldn't be the solution for this particular argument because if you didn't communicate your emotions then he would never know how you felt about it.

So, even though your stomach filled with anxiety and sadness as the hours passed, you still didn't leave, determined to talk to him about it.

Your jaw was clenched tight when he finally did come back home, utterly relaxed and even happy like he wasn't just curled up against some Hollywood starlet while his girlfriend was watching it on E!

"I'm really upset with you." You ground out when Kevin and Gwen left, not knowing how else to start the conversation.

"What for?"

You didn't reply, picking up the remote and flicking to a gossip channel, then a news channel, then an interview show and all of them had the picture of Ben Tennyson and Jennifer Nocturne locking lips.

Ben winced, "She kissed me! I didn't even return it."

You still refused to look at you, crossing your arms aggressively, "Uh huh and what was today all about?"

"It's just publicity. Jennifer thinks that it'll help with my career."

You scoffed, "What career?"

Ben's back tensed up and he turned to give you a stiff expression, "I'm a superhero. I've saved the universe a thousand times and now that I'm finally getting recognition for it, you want to be petty?"

"Petty? You think I'm being petty? Well forgive me for getting upset after watching my boyfriend curl up to some other woman in a hot tub for the last five hours!" You bit, standing up from the couch.

"It wasn't like that! Stop blowing everything out of proportion!"

"No, you stop pretending like this isn't a big deal! Ever since your secret got out you've been acting like an ass and since meeting that blonde rat it's only gone through your head more!" You shouted, clenching your hands at your sides. How could he not see your side of this?

"Well shouldn't I get to enjoy my life once in a while?! I'm the one saving the planet constantly! I'm the one with constant death threats and near death experiences every other week! Shouldn't I get some attention for it?! God knows I don't get any from you!" He yelled back and you grit your teeth.

"Don't forget that while you were out there risking your life, we were right beside you!"

"Oh, so that's what it is, you're jealous that everyone thinks of you as the sidekick!"

"That is so NOT what this is about!"

"Oh really? Because it sounds like you're jealous because you're not getting attention by mooching off of me!"

Your eyes widened in shock. Mooching? Did he seriously think that you risked your life alongside him every day to help other people and more importantly, keep him safe, for attention?

Your body trembled, outraged and you didn't say another word, leaving his house in a rush and slamming the door behind you.

You needed something to hit.

***

Your body pumped with adrenaline and anger, muscles itching to be used as you sauntered through the old and run-down factory with reckless abandon. You briefly wondered whether you should've told Gwen or Kevin you were going there but then decided against it, pride and anger too great.

Any doubts or hesitation you had disappeared when you saw Vulkanus, standing tall and broad in his metal suit. And as per usual, he had his herd of minions doing his physical labour.

"If it isn't the Plumber's sweetheart." He drawled once he noticed you. You didn't bother with the stealth, leaving the door wide open behind you and letting the sunlight seep in. If he knew what was good for him, then this would be over quick.

"Hello Vulkanus." You greeted politely and he rolled his eyes. Of all people, he knew just how misleading your innocence was.

"Where's the cavalry?"

"Just me today." You answered and for a second you were confused by your own confidence. Maybe you were taking this just a little too easy. Oh well, that was another thing you could blame your pig-headed boyfriend for.

"Well then, this is going to be easier than I thought. Hope you said goodbye to your boyfriend, sweetheart." He rasped out and the corner of your mouth twitched into a smirk. Without another word, you raised your arms, feeling the familiar heat of fire in the palm of your hand before chucking it at him.

Just as you knew he would, he sent his minions towards you first. They were embarrassingly unskilled but the problem came in numbers. They swarmed around you like ants and you felt yourself getting irritated at the clicking sound they were making.

Unfortunately for Vulkanus his make-shift factory was right beside a dam which gave you an endless supply of the elements to work with.

Summoning all the water you could manoeuvre, you pulled it into the factory, shattering the windows along with it and flooding the room. It only took a few flicks of your wrist to create a whirlpool in the centre, knocking all the workers off their feet.

You stiffened your hands, curling in your fingers and the temperature dropped, the water solidifying with each second until all of them were encased in ice. Another flick of the wrist had the path clearing between you and Vulkanus, who was still warm.

"You-You're sparing me?" He asked, confused and a dry laugh left you.

"Not at all," You sang, eyes turning dark, "I'm giving you special treatment."

Vulkanus bounded towards you, holding his mallet high and you swiftly dodged, using water on the floor to slide quickly. He crashed into the engine of one of his machines, the fuel tank exploding and spewing fowl smelling petrol onto the floor.

It floated above the level of water and began surrounding both of you.

He once again came at you, letting out a roar and you used the water to sink through the crevices of his suit, freezing it from within and you heard the satisfying sound of his suit cracking.

Just a little more strength and forcing a gust of air through the cracks had it falling apart and his frail body fell out of its metal encasing.

"You'll pay for this! You big bully!"

"Thanks for the fun time today, Vulkanus." You smiled, strutting to the door just as confidently as you came in. Even though your body was burning from the workout and you could barely breathe, you still couldn't get over the high.

Before leaving the building, you turned around to see him still glaring at you from his place on the floor.

"Oh, I should probably free your minions, right?" You commented, eyes flickering between the ones still encased in ice and the floor that was still flooded with water and petrol.

You let out a fake sigh, "I guess I'll be nice today," You winked at Vulkanus, "Thanks for the playdate, sweetheart."

His eyes widened when you blew a kiss to him, watching in fear as you ignited a flare in your palm and blew it towards him before turning around and using the wind to slam the doors behind you. When you were just a few feet away you heard the place blow apart.

Slowly, the adrenaline began melting and the blood rushing through your ears was much more audible. You were panting, tired from the exercise and the thought of calling Kevin to come and pick you up. Or maybe even Ben. You were calm enough now to have a conversation with him.

When you pulled your phone out of your pocket you felt a hand on your shoulder and spun around to meet eyes with Captain Nemesis. For a brief second you were wondering if he was here to invite you to some inane party or even to tell you that Ben was at one.

Although you hardly looked the part, you were sweating and your face was probably red and blotchy.

"Can I help you?" You asked, taking a step back, he was a little too close to you and the look in his eye freaked you out.

"As a matter of fact, you can." He said, "You see I'm arranging a little stunt for Ben Tennyson. An opportunity if you will, to showcase some of his heroism."

You rolled your eyes, turning away from him. The last thing you wanted to do was feed Ben's ego at the moment.

"With all due respect, I don't really think I'm up for a damsel in distress routine right now, Captain, I'd rather just get home. And If you take another step towards me, I'll kick you where the sun doesn't shine." You snapped and he backed off obediently, raising his hands in a form of surrender.

"That's too bad." He mused and you turned away from him, intent on walking back home or even calling a cab. Anything to get away from this creep faster.

"Too bad you don't really have a choice."

You felt his hand on your bare shoulder again but before you could even react you felt volts of electricity rush through you. You gasped painfully, feeling fire through your veins before everything started to hurt.

White burned in your vision and colours started to blur together as your eyes filled with tears. Your body crumbled, falling forward and Captain Nemesis caught you.

Right before your consciousness slipped away you heard him say something.

"For your sake, you better hope that Ben Tennyson is as great as those gossip channels make him out to be."

***

When you felt yourself regaining consciousness, you could feel your weight pulling down and also couldn't feel the ground. This had your eyes snapping open, regardless of how dizzy you were and how many dots were in your vision.

You hazily made out the venue, Nemesis Tower, before recognize the blonde woman tied up beside you. It didn't take long before you realized she was tied to the other end of the rope, suspended through mid-air just like you.

This was no doubt going to be some sort of deathly choice.

You noticed when Ben came in, turning into Ultimate Humangasaur. He looked furious, like you've never seen him before and you knew it was because Ben was certain he'd teach him a lesson today.

"Where's (Y/N)." He all but growled and your heart soared. You didn't realize how much you missed him until now, everything from before was forgotten.

"Right up there. And so is Jennifer." He replied, still smug despite the way Ben was pining him to the ground by his throat. Ben followed his gaze to meet your eyes and you took a deep breathe, bracing yourself.

A selfish part of you wanted to stay and see what Ben would do, would he save you even though Jennifer was a civilian and world famous?

Even then you figured that you shouldn't risk anyone's life for petty jealousy, so you took a deep breath, blowing it out through your mouth and watching as a gust of wind blew past, the pressure making you swing.

You swung a few feet back, letting your body fall a little before blowing again. Once you gained enough momentum, you looked up to the rope tying the two of you together and spitting fire at it, falling at an angle. You briefly heard Jennifer scream and revelled in her karma for a hot second.

On your way down, you quickly burnt off the rest of the ropes, bringing a pool of water to crystallize into a makeshift slide as you slide on your knees across the floor, just in time to catch Jennifer in your arms.

Your knees stung as they scraped across the concrete and the wind was knocked out of you when the woman fell into your form.

She gasped and her eyes that was screwed shut gently fluttered open. Up close you could understand why everyone was in love with her. Even then you couldn't spare her any concern.

You quickly pushed her out of your arms, noticing Gwen and Kevin staring at you in awe when you stood up. You cracked your knuckles, making your way over to the older man with a scowl.

"For your sake, you better hope that I'm just as weak as you think I am. Spoiler alert, I'm not."

Ben spared a small smile at you but you couldn't feel anything aside from hot fury. You felt water surge beneath your fingers and threw it at him, pulling up a wall of earth to block his blasts.

Your boyfriend immediately began fighting alongside you and your bodies fell into a familiar rhythm. Even though there was a crazed narcissist trying to kill you, you felt safe beside Ben.

It wasn't long before the four of you managed to overpower him, rendering his armour useless until he was defeated, lying pathetically on the ground.

You walked up to him and your lips twisted into an unimpressed frown when you noticed the way he had the audacity to glare at you. Without a second word, you raised your leg and kicked him right between the legs.

"I always keep my promises, Captain."

Kevin began laughing behind you and Ben cringed.

Finally, when you turned to meet Ben, now de-transformed, all the fight left your body and you relaxed. He looked apologetic and you let him approach you.

His arms wrapped around your waist and you leaned into him, breathing the familiar scent of his deodorant and snaking your arms under his jacket to fist his T-shirt.

He sighed into your hair, arms tightening around your body, "I'm sorry. For being an ass to you and saying all those horrible things, I was being an idiot and you deserve an apology."

You didn't move, not pulling away from the way your forehead was pressed against the length of his neck, "Thank you for coming to save me."

"Didn't look like you needed much help." He chuckled and you felt happy hearing the pride in his voice.

"I missed you." You murmured, holding him a little tighter and he turned his head to kiss your forehead gently. And just like that, everything was right in the world. Just as long as you were in each other's arms.

"I love you."

You heard the click of a camera and your head snapped up to see a herd of cameramen and reporters along with a couple of police cars. Ben laughed nervously beside you, "I guess we won't have to worry about another actress coming between us."

You gave him an unimpressed frown and he just smiled, leaning to peck your lips and you heard the crowd of reporters’ gasp and heard the shutters of cameras before they began shouting questions at you.

You pulled away from him when you saw Jennifer Nocturne make her way towards you. You figured she wanted to snuggle up to Ben now that the cameras were filming.

Instead, she walked right up to you, hugging you tightly and your arms flailed pathetically beside her, unsure of what to do, "You saved my life! I don't know how to thank you!"

She pulled away for just a second before pressing a kiss to your lips. Your eyes widened in alarm and the shutters began once again and flashes practically blinded you.

"Huh, so that's what that feels like." Ben murmured when she pulled away from you. Kevin was smirking beside him, satisfied that he got a taste of his own medicine and Gwen was just in shock.

Ben felt his stomach turn at the sight of Jennifer’s lipstick on your mouth and you were unsure whether you should feel repulsed or cocky.

But as you wiped the pigment off your lips and curled back into Ben's side you couldn't feel anything other than your burning muscles and your drooping eyelids.

You squinted because of the bright lights, feeling a headache grow as the exhaustion from before crept up on you again. After 2 fights and a kidnapping today, there was nothing more you wanted than a nap.

"Wanna go home?" Your ever observant boyfriend asked just as the nausea started to kick in. You nodded and he guided you away from the reporters to his car.

He gently placed you into the front seat, shielding your head as you got in to prevent you from hitting it against the hood before buckling your seatbelt, watching carefully as you drifted into a sound sleep.

Ben heard everyone behind him swoon as he lovingly placed a kiss to your knuckles and then climbed into the seat beside you, sparing you one last warm glance before starting the car and driving away.

He'd definitely notice the shy smile on your face when you saw that Ben kissing you was on the front page of a magazine.

And you'd notice the jealous scowl he'd have when he saw that Jennifer kissing you was on the front page of another.

#ben ten omniverse #ben tennyson #ben ten alien force #ben ten ultimate alien #ben 10 #ben 10 uaf #ben 10 ultimate alien #ben 10 original series #ben 10 fanfiction #ben 10 omniverse #ben 10 x reader #ben tennyson x reader #ben tennyson imagines #ben 10 alien force #ben ten #ben tennyson imagine

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nat-20s · 4 years ago

Text

Part 4 of Wonderful! Au! This one isn’t an episode! And It’s not funny! It does, however, provide the context around Part 3! Also, Jon signs in this one, and sign languages have their own grammar and structure, but I display his signs translated into English and denote them with <> instead of “”. Here goes!

~*~

When, two days ago, Jon woke up gasping at 3 am, Martin didn’t think anything of it. Their nightmares were much like their chronic headaches: sometimes occurring daily, sometimes going weeks in without showing up. They were uncomfortable, surely, and sometimes had lingering effects, but there was a routine to them that took away much of their sting.

When he then throws off the covers, grabs the pack of cigarettes that only gets touched maybe three times a year, and makes a beeline for their balcony, Martin realizes that something worse is going on. Dread starting to settle in his stomach, he attempts to stave it off through action. He grabs the comforter and puts on a pair of slippers, going to accompany Jon. The early morning spring air is bracing enough to someone like himself, who, barring a certain deeply unpleasant year, had always run hot, it must be awful for the heat sink that is Jon. Sure enough, he finds Jon shifting on his feet, trying not to shiver too much as he’s handling the lighter.

Getting closer, while still allowing Jon breathing room, he offers over the blanket with a gentle smile and gentler words “Wanna talk about it?”

Jon doesn’t take the blanket. Jon doesn’t even look at him. “Talking to you has often been the problem, so no, thank you.”

Oof. Instinct tells him to react with a matching tone, to jab right back. That instinct is one that he’s long learned to ignore. Instead, he wraps the blanket around his own shoulders and replies with a certain level of blitheness, “Huh. Probably shouldn’t have married me then.”

Jon’s shoulders slump, and the harsh lines of his features soften. He still, however, won’t look at Martin. “Sorry, that was...a poor way of phrasing things. Sometimes I just think..”

There’s a silence between them for a few seconds as Martin waits for him to expand on the thought. When he doesn’t, Martin prompts, “Yes?”

Jon sighs with all of himself, before taking a drag of his cigarette. “Four years ago. If you hadn’t been there, I think I would’ve gone through with it. I’m glad for the life we got to build afterwards, but. Sometimes it feels as though I’m being rewarded for failure. Or perhaps, more accurately, for compliance.”

Four years ago. Four years ago exactly. The date dawns on Martin, simultaneously the worst day of their lives, and the day of their freedom from the fears. The realization makes him understand why Jon’s treading the ruts of a worn out argument, a old ache. These days, Martin doesn’t have much to say on the matter. He thinks the second Fucking Jonah Magnus opened the door, and that it was Fucking Jonah Magnus who did it, they no longer had any right choices to make. No matter what way they did the math, the outcome was always going to be terrible. However, when he wakes up warm, with their cat curled up at their feet and his husband curled into his side, he can regret the build up all he likes, but he can’t deny his joy at how it, eventually, all shook out. “Reward would imply intent, and I don’t think what we have now was orchestrated by anything other than ourselves. It’s not like the web promised us a summer wedding if we finished opening the rift.”

It’s too early to have the conversation. Jon seems to realize this at the same time that Martin does, because he snuffs out his cigarette on the railing, and says he’s going back to bed.

Four hours later, Jon leaves the apartment. He doesn’t say where he’s going, and Martin doesn’t ask. In the past, it would’ve been enough for his anxiety to spike, for the insidious thoughts of “this is it, he’s finally sick of me, always knew this would happen,” to circulate. He’s mostly able to stave off that way, able to come to the rational conclusion that this day was hard every year, and that they both needed space to process, that they weren’t even fighting, really. Mostly. He still has to keep himself busy to stave off the worst of it. The sardonic part of himself notes that their apartment’s always sparkling when they’re at their lowest, stress cleaning a habit the two of them share.

Jon gets home close to midnight, and doesn’t look at him as he falls asleep. On the couch. Maybe they’re fighting after all. Martin wishes someone had told him.

This morning, Martin wakes up cold for the first time in months. Blearily, he makes his way towards the kitchen, and finds Jon upright and scrolling on his phone. The bags under his eyes suggest he slept about as well as Martin. He looks up, at Martin, when he walks by, which is a marked improvement. Martin stops in his tracks, and he wants to think of something easy to say. He wants to offer tea or breakfast, he wants to give reassurances, he wants to remain steadfast in his conviction that saving their former world and ending up somewhere else was the best move, he want to smoothly open up discussion. Instead, he blurts out the question that’s been keeping him tossing and turning for the past several hours. “Are we okay?”

Jon opens his mouth, closes it, and lets out a frustrated huff through his nose. He raises his hand in a fist and nods with it. <Yes.>

Inanely, he asks, “Are you okay?,” which only gets him a flat stare before Jon signs <I’m getting some damn sleep.> and shoves past Martin to what is supposed to be their shared bed. Martin lets him, for now, but they’re going to clear out some of the tension this afternoon.

He makes the elective decision to record the episode by himself. He supposes he could send out a tweet telling their audience it’s an off week, but he wants to record it, both for himself and for Jon. After he’s done, he does a three knocks in rapid succession on the doorframe of the bedroom, a code they had established, god, back in the Prentiss days to let the other know it was them. Jon stirs under the covers, so he asks, “Can I come in?”

A hand rises up, giving the same nod as earlier. Before he walks in, however, he also asks, “Can I join you on the bed?”

<Yes.>

Martin crawls in next to him, and Jon immediately turns over to face him. Before he says anything, Jon signs <I love you.>

“I love you too. Hey, did..did you hear me recording?”

<No. You did an episode solo?>

“Yeah. Sort of figured you weren’t up for it.”

Jon shrugs and gives a tilt of his head that Martin reads as “Fair.” <What’s it about?>

Martin gives a shit-eating grin, the first smile hes given in the past two days. “It’s a surprise.”

Jon sticks out his tongue at him, which makes some of the weight on his lungs lift. “It’s also not what we need to discuss. What’s been going on, my love?”

Martin knew all that already, but, “There’s something else though, this time, isn’t there?”

Jon drops his eyes down to his hands, which he keeps resolutely still. With nothing but an earnest plea, Martin asks, “Why did you sleep on the couch? That’s not ‘same old, same old’.”

To his surprise, Jon comes in closer, only leaving enough room between them that he can still sign. <I love you. So much. Enough to terrify me, sometimes, but.>

“But?”

Involuntarily, Martin glances down to Jon’s abdomen. Despite his torso being covered, Martin knows the shape of the scar there, because there are times where he can still feel himself creating it. “I know how you feel. And it’s. It sucks, but I think it’s okay. As long as..as it’s not the only thing you see looking at me.”

Jon shakes his head, and gives an only slightly fragmented smile. <Not at all. Mostly I look at you and I see my favorite person in all of existence, literally.>

Martin relaxes into the mattress and runs his fingers through Jon’s hair. Pressing their foreheads together, he replies, “Ditto. Don’t tell The Duchess though, she’s the jealous type.”

That gets a proper laugh out of Jon, and Martin’s sure that they both know tomorrow is going to be better.

#wonderful! au #jonmartin #post canon #tma #jon sims #martin blackwood #THIS TOOK ME MENTALLY THREE DAYS I HATE WRITING THEM IN CONFLICT EVEN IF THE CONFLICT IS RELATIVELY GENTLE #also i didn't know!! what level they would be at after four years!! I think they're mostly okay but also!!! sometimes there's bad days!#anyway....they love each other...#part 5 will be fluffier i promise #also also should I transfer the main fics over to ao3 as well???

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phoenixyfriend · 4 years ago

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Rex and Anakin Raise a Family: Part One

The beginning of the end is this: Ahsoka removes Rex’s chip and finds her masters, starts to run, and loses her life before they make it to safety.

(She is the chink in all their armors.)

The beginning of the end is this: Anakin does not Fall, is there as his children are born, and sobs himself to pieces as his wife still dies for reasons none can find.

(Darkness would not have saved her, and the Light was already shattered.)

The beginning of the end is this: Obi-Wan mends his relationship with Anakin just in time to stay behind and guard the escape of what is left of his family.

(Obi-Wan would never have forgiven himself if he hadn’t, and Anakin will never forgive his Master’s memory for sacrificing himself.)

The beginning of the end is this: Their path to safety passes through Malachor.

------------------------

The house is small and dusty, but empty and uninfested.

Anakin is used to worse. Rex is used to worse. The twins can barely see six inches beyond their faces, and do not know any better.

“Do you think they take Republic credits?” Rex asks. They still don’t know what planet they’re even on.

Anakin shrugs. There’s no life to him, even with his daughter in his arms, and his son at his side.

“I’ll pawn a blaster if I have to,” Rex decides. He wraps the bottom half of his face in a scarf, and prays that the blond hair and civilian clothing are enough that nobody will look too close for the eyes of a clone.

Anakin shrugs again. They need food for the newborns, who can’t survive on packed rations and hunted game. There’s only so much formula on the ship they took, and it won’t last the week.

(He is not the only person to lose everything in the last three days, but Rex is more practiced at compartmentalizing.)

(There’s more to it, from the Force letting Anakin feel the deaths of those he loves to the extremely personal betrayal that was Chancellor Palpatine’s reveal as a Sith, but when it comes down to the basics, he knows this: Anakin is broken now, and Rex can hold his own widening fissures together a little longer.)

“I’ll be back soon,” Rex promises, and lets the slow blink and half a nod be his general’s response.

The village isn’t very large. It’s not wealthy, but it seems largely untouched by the war. Nobody looks at him for more than a moment, and he thanks the tweaking of his genetic line for the hair that lets him hide just a little more. There aren’t any rumors catching his ear; he only parses about half of what’s being said. They’re in Mando space, and the words flying about are largely Basic and Mando’a, in a dialect he only mostly understands, and sprinkled with what he thinks is Huttese and Bocce. Still, nobody’s passing hushed gossip about the Jedi turning traitor, or the Republic becoming an Empire. Nobody mentions the Separatists or the war.

Rex feels a mix of rising anxiety and loosening fear. People won’t be looking for them yet, not here, but something is wrong for there to be so little hint of the wider conflict. He’s no scout, but he didn’t make Captain--or Commander, for that it lasted only the length of that final, ill-fated battle on Mandalore--by being as unobservant as a fresh cadet.

He finds himself standing in a store specializing in childcare supplies, staring at a shelf of some twenty different kinds of formula.

“You need some help, stranger?”

He glances at the woman out of the corner of his eye, notes down the degree of danger--minimal, even if he’s not in his armor--and decides it’s not too much information. “My friend, his wife died in childbirth, just a day ago. The children need to eat, but...”

Her face turns into a grimace of sympathy. “You don’t know what’s best. Did the midwife not suggest anything?”

A midwife. They really are in the middle of nowhere. “The birth was... they only had a med droid. No professionals.”

He doesn’t elaborate, hopes she’ll just drop it, and she does. She turns to the shelves, eyes them for a long moment, and then picks out three different boxes.

“Here, try these and see which one the baby likes best. They’re what I’d suggest for newborns. Should be easy to make with some hot water. I’m guessing you have bottles already--”

“No,” Rex says, and then scrambles to explain in a way that doesn’t make it clear just how unprepared they all are. “Not enough. It was twins, and nobody expected it.”

“Did she not--”

“Please don’t,” Rex says, desperate already. “It’s been a long few days, and it’s not my story to tell.”

She nods, a tad too slow, but he hopes it’s just concern.

Bottles and pacifiers, diapers and towels, just enough to tide them by with the excuse of buying for the unexpected extra child instead of the truth of having gone on the run the second the twins had been born.

Rex sees the face the woman makes when he goes to pay. His heart sinks.

“I’m... we don’t usually take Republic credits here, you understand,” she says slowly. “But you’re in a bad spot, and I don’t want the babes to suffer. See about visiting the exchange office soon, though.”

He could almost cry. He doesn’t. It’s a near thing.

“Thank you,” he says instead, as emphatically as he can. “Thank you so much.”

She smiles faintly, tightly, uncomfortably. “If I could make one more suggestion?”

He nods.

“There’s... there’s a nurse that runs a clinic down the way,” she says slowly. “She can look over the children, for one thing, but she can also... well, there’s a medication we can sell, to single fathers and the like, but only with a prescription...”

He blinks at her, uncomprehending.

“It induces lactation in those who otherwise wouldn’t,” she says, and bares her teeth in something that isn’t quite a smile. “Not the most popular option, but it’s technically on the table for anyone with breast tissue, and breast milk is usually healthier overall for babies than formula, for most species. Um, it’s popular with adoptive mothers, wet nurses, same-sex couples, single fathers in a situation like your friend’s... tell me if I should stop talking.”

“No, no, I think that he’d actually appreciate that,” Rex hurries to assure her. “I can at least bring it up, and we’ll need to have regular medical attention for the twins anyway, so I need the address, don’t I?”

Her smile brightens into something a little more real, and she scribbles something down on some flimsi. “Here, just give this to your friend. Come here and ask for Teskarim if you have questions; that’s me.”

He commits the name in memory, dips his head in a nod of thanks, and makes his way for the door.

The trip back to the house is, by and large, uneventful. There are still no rumors. There are still no chip-loyal brothers. There are still no bounty posters, or--

His eyes dart back to the bounty board, just for a second. There’s a face on there that shouldn’t be. He doesn’t linger; it’s bad form, suspicious. Instead, he heads for the newsstand a few stalls down, pauses just long enough to get the date, and strikes out for the little house and their ship without changing his stride. Externally, he looks entirely normal.

His mind is in a daze.

3,594 ATC

The year is 3,594.

He hasn’t been born yet.

He does the math.

His General hasn’t been born yet.

Sith Hells, High General Kenobi hasn’t been born yet.

Rex is...

He has to talk to Anakin.

#Rexwalker #Captain Rex #Anakin Skywalker #Skywalker Twins #time travel #star wars #phoenix posts #this may or may not get continued but I wanted to at least get the idea down #Rex and Anakin Raise a Family #death tw #grief tw #depression tw #ptsd tw #childbirth mention #lactation mention #male lactation #I feel like the lactation thing is probably out of left field for some people but Meh #I want Anakin to go hard on parenting

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anxious-allie-ren · 3 years ago

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Hey everyone! I’d like to introduce the new story I am writing! You can find it on both my AO3 and Wattpad. Both of which are linked in my bio. But I’ll also be posting the chapters here for you all. Be easy on me as I haven’t quite figured out how to post chapters on here and create a master list. That is something I will be working on. Alright, now in to the good stuff.

Erota

As the only daughter from a high society family, the pressure is on you to impress the ton and find a suitable match. You hope to find love, but your fate is decided for you. Your marriage is arranged to King Kylo of Chandrila. Pain and tough decisions are soon to follow.

This story is inspired by Bridgerton and regency era.

Hello everyone! I have been dreaming of writing this fic for a bit now and finally gathered the courage to do it! Like I said in the description, this story is heavily influenced by the regency era and the Netflix show Bridgerton. I've done my best to keep it accurate to both the era and the Star Wars world. I hope you enjoy!

The Ton.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The season has finally arrived. You have officially joined the ton and are coming out into society. The debutantes of higher society are to be presented in court. This now includes you and your family.

You were the only child of the Duke of Selonia. A small territory southeast of Drall within the kingdom of Corellia. It's a quaint little area, nothing to brag about. It was cozy and calm. Many of the families had lived in the area for generations. Neighbors all knew each other. But despite its comfort and kindness it was lacking funds.

Since you had been able to remember, life was very simple. You helped in the gardens, the kitchens, and even with the laundry work. Your family took trips to town often, visiting with the people. Your mother loved to stop at the bakery and buy pastries to bring back to the estate. She told you stories from her childhood as bedtime stories. Coming from a common family and marrying into high society. Your parents married for love and not statues. Many scolded your father for marrying "below his station" but he let their words roll off his shoulders. He was attracted to your mother for her beauty, kindness, and capabilities. Your mother was no stranger to hard work, and she assured you weren't as well.

As you matured, you watched as your home aged as well. Bricks began to weather with time and vegetation started to take over. Farmers had less success each year and businesses were closing. The help your father was once so quick to provide had now dwindled into nothing. There was no help to give. The funding was nearly gone. After your mother's death, the strong and reliable man you had once called your father was gone. What replaced him was a shell of a man. He gave up on his duties as a duke and instead threw his time and money into bad habits. Gambling and drinking had become his crutch.

You lost your mother in your adolescence. Still a young girl so in need of a mother and her guidance. Her death left you confused and in desperate need of comfort. You tried to lean on your father. But in his own grief, he seemed to forget about you. Instead, you turned to your community. The maids and butlers became your family. They ensured your schooling would continue. The men even went as far as to teach you math and science. When you entered your teens, you attempted to take on the dukedom in secret. You went over all the documents and finances, trying to find a way to help your people and restore your estate. It was to no avail. Nothing could be done without your fathers signature. So you were left with no choice but to let it go. You focused on your studies and lessons with the maids. They helped bring you to maturity. Now, it was time to join society as an eligible woman.

Marriage has been heavy on your mind for many years now. The idea of meeting a man and marrying just for statues or titles didn't interest you. Neither of those things mattered to you. A marriage had become something with such a negative connotation. But love, now that was very different. You yearned for a true love match. You craved a deep connection unlike any you'd ever experienced. As a child, you'd developed small crushes on some of the neighborhood children. The butterflies and blushed looks were something you understood. But you'd never felt love before. You loved your family of course. You even loved your townspeople. But that was so different from what you hoped to find.

Becoming a debutante was not something you were looking forward to. Joining the ladies of high society was only asking for drama. But as the daughter of a Duke, it was your duty to join the ton and find a suitable husband. This had become increasingly important as your territory lost more and more money to your father's lifestyle. These thoughts scrambled around your mind as you got ready. You would be heading to the first ball of the season, your entrance into society, in moments. You were dressed in your nicest items. A deep red ball gown embroidered with golden florals along the bottom of the skirt and corset. Your hair was pinned back, allowing your face to stand out. Your maid, Jillian, was helping you put on your shoes as you looked at yourself in the mirror. Jillian had been with your family before your mother passed. She had watched you grow from a pained child to a strong young woman. She was with you every step of the way. Jillian became a motherly figure and your most trusted confidant.

Jillian pats your calf as she begins to stand, finished with clasping your heels. Her touch pulls you from your thoughts. You give her a polite smile and thank her, turning back to the mirror. Your anxiety is growing with each tick of the clock and in typical Jillian fashion, she can sense your discomfort. She comes to stand behind you, adjusting the pins in your hair.

"You know you're prepared for this. There's no need to sit and worry."

You meet her gaze in the mirror, her gentle blue eyes giving you a wave of comfort. You let out a sigh and play with your fingers.

"I felt prepared, but now that it's upon me, I'm not so sure. So much is at stake here, Jillian. The people of Selonia are relying on me to find someone who can help. What if I'm not up to standards?"

Jillian only chuckles at your words and places her hands on either of your shoulders.

"Standards? Now you're just being silly. You are a kind, intelligent, and strong young lady. Any suitor would be lucky to have you as his wife."

You turn to look at her, face scrunched in concentration.

"That's exactly the issue! It can't just be any suitor. They need to be able to fix dukedom and be the love I've been waiting for. What if that's unrealistic? How can I ever find someone to do both?"

Jillian places a comforting hand on your cheek, her thumb slowly stroking your cheekbone. She gives you a small smile before she speaks.

"Is that what you're so worried about? Dear, you're placing too much stress on yourself. Don't worry about the dukedom or Selonia. Go and find your love, everything else will fall in place."

You lean into her hand and smile, her words bringing you peace and a newfound sense of confidence. She pulls her hand away and turns towards your bedroom door. She calls back to you, "Now let's get you going! It's time."

————————————————

The carriage stopped in front of the King's summer estate. Many of the guests were already walking up the grand entrance and making their way inside. Your father hurried around and opened the door for you, holding his hand out and helping you down. Tonight he was doing his best to look and act presentable. You place your hand in his bent arm and let him lead you into the ball. Neither of you had spoken more than a few words to each other in years. You were surprised he even accompanied you tonight. His presence only made you nervous again. You weren't sure what his intent was by coming. Was he finally stepping back into his positions as father and Duke? Or was there some ulterior motive?

You found out quickly as he leaned in to speak to you, just as you were arriving at the entrance of the ballroom.

"I am expecting you to perform well tonight. I want to see gentlemen callers of high status calling on you tomorrow."

You look up at him and furrow your brows in confusion. So this is what he came for? To ensure you schmoozed with the highest titles with the most money? If so, he's going to be very disappointed.

"I'm here to find a reasonable suitor for myself, father. Not a suitor for you and Selonia."

He stops walking at your words, his head turning to look down at you. You can see his clenched jaw and anger in his eyes. His distaste for your words is written all over his face.

"Stop with your foolish girly fantasy of a love match. You're here to do as I say, and I'll be damned if you disobey me."

His words sting your heart. Your father had never spoken to you this way. When you were young, he was always so gentle and loving towards you. Now it seems you're just another pawn to be thrown around his chessboard as he pleased. You swallow the lump in your throat and move your gaze back down. Now was not the time to worry about this. You had more pressing matters.

You allowed your father to lead you to the entrance, stopping to allow the announcer to get your names. You took a deep breath as you prepared to face the ton. First impressions were everything, and you did not want to screw this up. The announcer clears his throat and stands at attention. Everyone in the room stops what they're doing to await the next debutante.

"Presented by her father, the Duke of Selonia, Miss Y/F/N."

You stare forward as your father leads you into the ballroom and towards the King and Queen of Corellia. You both stopped before them, your father unlinking your arms and bowing. You fall into a curtsy, bowing your head in respect. Your father stands back up and looks to the king. You stay still, awaiting the command to move. The king of Corellia rises from his throne and moves to stand in front of you. Everyone holds their breath, watching closely to see what unfolds. He places a gentle finger under your chin, raising your head to meet his gaze.

"Stand up for me, dear. You can relax."

You do as he says and stand quickly, giving him a polite smile as you return his intense eye contact. His finger never leaves your chin. He smiles back at you and begins to speak again.

"You are a true beauty, my dear. You know, they say the eyes are a window to the soul. I can see the love and strength living within yours. Hold onto that, they will be your biggest asset."

Your eyes widen at his words. You can't help the smile that spreads across your face.

"Thank you, your majesty."

With that, he removes his finger from your chin and climbs back to his throne. He turns his attention back to the room and declares, "Let the festivities continue."

Your father grabs ahold of your arm again and leads you away from the thrones. You can feel the crowd staring at you, but you can't find it in you to care. King Luke of Corellia spoke to you! Not only that, but he complimented you. This was a great honor bestowed on very few. You would take his advice to heart.

It seems your father had a different perspective. He leads you to a table with dance cards placed neatly in rows. You begin to search for your name as he smirks and begins talking.

"Compliments from the king will help greatly in gaining potential suitors. You'll be the most desired lady in the ton. Seems finding you a husband of high title will be easier than I thought."

You finish tying the card to your wrist and turn to look at the room. Your father continues to talk as you observe your surroundings. You look up at the elegant chandelier. It shines beautifully in the light, casting sparkles all over the room. You watch as they dance across the guests, creating an angelic and light atmosphere. A waiter comes by and offers you and your father glasses of champagne. You take a small sip and return your attention to the crowd. Many of the ladies are giving you glares or speaking with the eligible men in attendance. You take notice of their attire. Many have much more elegant gowns and jewels on. Their appearance shows how much they have to offer. Your feelings of inadequacy begin to creep back in. You don't even notice a man approaching.

Your gaze stops on a young man across the room. His dark brown curls and bright smile grabbed your attention. He was speaking to another man, seeming to be in deep conversation. His face was so expressive as he spoke, hands moving about to help prove whatever point he was trying to make. You couldn't help but be captivated by him. If there was anyone you were hoping to get a moment with this evening, it was him.

You snap from your thoughts as your father greets him and motions towards you. This man must have been reaching his thirties. Much older than any of the debutantes here. His bright ginger hair stands out like a sore thumb. He makes eye contact with you as your father talks. An uneasy feeling sweeps over you. For some reason, something about this man doesn't sit right with you.

"Y/N, I'd like you to meet the Earl of Drall, Lord Armitage Hux" your father says as he motions towards the man. Lord Hux takes your hand and raises it to his lips, kissing your knuckles. The contact makes you cringe internally. Your father looks at you expectantly and you quickly pull yourself together.

"Hello Lord Hux, it is so nice to meet you."

Your father smiles at both of you and claps a hand on Lord Hux's shoulder.

"Lord Hux here is a good friend of mine. I was hoping to introduce you both tonight."

The uneasy feeling now makes sense. Any friend of your fathers is likely a crook. Not at all the type of man you want to be speaking to. You nod politely, biting your tongue from speaking your mind freely. The men then turn away from you and begin a discussion of their own, leaving you out. You lift your glass of champagne back to your lips and turn your gaze back to the direction of the man you had spotted before.

Instead of finding the curly haired man again, you met eyes with someone else. Standing with his hands clasped behind his back was a raven haired man. He stood tall and broad, much larger than any other man in the room. His gaze pierced through you, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand. You wanted to approach him, but to do so would make you look indecent.

Your eye contact is cut off by Lord Hux coming in front of you. He holds out his arm to you in invitation.

"Would you do me the honor of a dance, Lady Y/N?"

You wanted nothing more than to say no and go speak to the mystery man. Or even go find the curly haired man from before. But you know you had no choice in the matter. To deny him would make you look bad to the ton. Plus, your father would never stand for it. So you placed your hand in his arm and nod.

"Of course, Lord Hux."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I really hope you enjoyed this! Let me know what you think!

Love,

Allie

#star wars #kyloren #kylo #kylorenthings #fanfic #fanfiction #king Kylo #reader x character #readerxkyloren #reader x Kylo #reader x Kylo ren #poe dameron #armitage hux #Hux #Poe #historical #regency #regency era #bridgerton

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daughters-of-liberty · 3 years ago

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Isn't it more traditional that the wife takes care of the finances? So she has an easier time accounting for house bills, food bills, etc. She is the one getting in contact with how much these things cost and has therefore a better idea how to budget for them. But small changes to this would make sense if let's say one of the two is worse with numbers. But maybe that's more of an old old school thing, all grandmas here were the finance ladies. Doesn't matter as long as both support each other <3

I definitely think it does depend on who's the better math person. My husband is gonna be in charge of finances once I finally make the move to being stay-at-home, because 1) he's better at numbers than I am, and 2) I do have a pretty bad shopping addiction, ngl. I'm working on it. But I'll probably still be the one to say "hey, we need to dole out some money to fix the dishwasher" or "hey, the car payment is gonna come out on tuesday", etc.

Meanwhile, for example, my mother took care of finances, just because it was one less thing my busy father had to worry about. This brought about it's own issues, as she also has a bad shopping habit (apple doesn't fall far from the tree), and that did come back to bite us occasionally.

So I guess it really depends on people's strong suits. I knew a couple where the woman was high-powered, couldn't sit still, had to be on her feet constantly, and the husband was more easy going, had anxiety, didn't like being around people, was very detail-oriented and organized, and a far better cook than her. So he was the one who stayed home, while she worked like 60 hours a week. And that worked for them. They didn't end up having kids, but if they had, he would've happily been the stay-at-home dad, and she probably would've been happy to go straight back to work after having a baby.

Hell, my own husband has mentioned it being nice to be a stay-at-home dad. But because he knows me (lol, I am NOT made for social interactions), he's perfectly happy stepping up, doing the really hard part and providing for me and our future children. But if I was more career-driven, he probably would've been happy being the stay-at-home spouse. And that would've been fine.

Put your aces in their spaces!

#tradfem #traditional gender roles #traditional marriage #traditional family #traditional femininity #tradwife

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hologramband · 4 years ago

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One Day p1

Alive!Luke x Fem!Reader Modern AU Word Count: 2.6k A/n: hehehe here’s the first part! I have it mostly planned out, there should be 3-4 parts! Lmk what you think! Summary: A shy girl is used to floating under the radar, keeping to herself most of the time, all was well until an opportunity fell into her lap, but what will these new people bring with them?

You were really good at staying right under everyone's radar at Los Feliz. You knew everyone, everyone knew you, but you didn’t have anything more than just a surface relationship with your classmates. You didn’t mind that, it was harder to get hurt this way. You got accepted to the Performing Arts High School with your ability to dance, but have always found your real talent lies within your visual art. Whether you were using paints, pencils, or a pen, you loved the way that your hand flew over the paper and created an image that represented your many different emotions.

In a way it made sense how you loved both dance and drawing, both sharing the flowing of movements to express things that words cannot. It was easier for you to express your emotions and thoughts in these mediums since social connection was hard for you. You had tried it once, really connecting with a person, but it ended up coming back and hurting you, causing you to shut down, so you weren't in a rush to try again any time soon. You floated down the hallways with ease, only having to stop at your locker to grab the remaining textbooks you need for the next few classes. While you were stopped you heard your name called from across the hallway, looking up to see Julie raising her hand in a small wave. “Hey, (y/n)! I like your top!” She came to a stop by your locker smiling. “Thanks! It was my moms, she just found this box of old clothes from when she was in school, this one just really stuck out to me.” You smiled down at yourself and looked back up at the girl to see three boys approaching. You felt heat subtly rise to your cheeks and you tried to focus your eyes on Julie. “Hey Jules, you ready to go to class?” Luke spoke as soon as they reached her side, sending you a nod of acknowledgement when he noticed you standing in front of them. Alex and Reggie both raised their hands with small waves in greeting to you. You smiled in return and turned back to close your locker, swinging your backpack on in the process. “Well, I gotta get to class too, see ya around.” You smiled back at the group and heard Julie call after you. “See you in Art!” You turned slightly and waved in return. Julie and you were pretty decent friends, you talked to her more than anyone else at the school, she had a good balance of how to get to know you without pushing you. You had met the boys a few times in passing, much like the previous occurrence, them not really speaking much more than a ‘hello’ here and there. There was something about Luke though, he never failed to send a storm of butterflies loose in your stomach. He probably didn’t even remember your name, but you could remember all the details of his face, not in a weird way, just in an artistic way, ya know? He had such a coolness about him, like he could totally embarrass himself but brush it off like it was nothing, like he meant to do it even. You thought you were getting better with your anxiety around people, but as soon as that boy was in front of you, it seemed as if your brain forgot how to function. You shook the boy from your thoughts as you continued through your day, classes went by like they typically do, all your general classes like math and english were in the first half of the day, the second half being taken by your dance class and then art. It was simple to say that you much preferred the second half of classes. In dance you went about as normal, running through a few routines and while wrapping up your teacher mentioned something about a new project that would be announced tomorrow. After changing you made your way to your final class where Julie had already arrived and claimed a table for the two of you. “Hi!” she smiled up at you. “Hi! How were your classes today?” You replied, starting a conversation that you hoped would carry throughout the class. You really did like talking with Julie, she was so sweet and really made you feel like she wanted to get to know you. The first day of class she noticed you were sitting alone and she took this as an opportunity to introduce herself, commenting on the particular band tee you had on, being able to strike up a conversation instantly. You admired her for this, the confidence she had when walking in a room was just astounding to you. The two of you went about the class in a way that you similarly would, talking about this and that while sketching away in your respective books, her only pausing to write ideas in her song notebook when an idea would hit. The class you were in didn’t have many actual assignments, just that you needed around 3 small pieces turned in periodically and one larger one for your final at the end of the semester, it made it an easy free flowing environment where there wasn’t too much pressure to stress on any one thing. Before you knew it the ding of the bell was going off overhead and you and Julie started packing up your things, she quickened her pace when she saw the boys waiting at the door for her. “You guys have practice today?” You giggled at her rushed movements. “Yeah,” she laughed as she zipped her bag closed, “Luke and I just finished up a new song too so I’m really excited to get back to the garage to figure out the music behind it.” She smiled up at you and you returned the affection. “Well don’t let me hold you up! Hope it all goes well! See you tomorrow!” You waved to the girl as she ran to the door, only pausing to throw a wave back at you. You laughed and shook your head at the girls' antics and went about your day as usual, starting your walk back home, you didn’t live too far and enjoyed the fresh air and time to recollect after the school day. After getting home you grabbed a quick snack and retreated to your room to finish a sketch that you had been working on in class today. Digging through your bag your heart rate increased when you pulled the red covered book to see the top covered in multiple stickers, this wasn’t your book, it was Julies song book, meaning she was currently in possession of your sketchbook. She must have grabbed yours on mistake when she was packing up quickly. You lightly sighed as you pulled out your phone to text her about the accidental switch-up. She replied instantly just realizing the mistake herself, then invited you over to switch them back and possibly hear some of the songs they were working on, looking for an outsider's opinion. You hesitated in saying yes, did you really need your book back that bad? Sighing, you sent back an okay and asked for an address, as nervous as you were to hang around the guys, more specifically Luke, you remembered how excited Julie was to go over the new song, the one that was probably sitting in the book you were holding in your hands. You threw on a light jacket and grabbed your backpack, for reasons unexplainable to you it just always just felt safer to walk around with a backpack on, and you were on your way to Julies. You could feel your nerves rising with each step you took towards her house, by the time you stood at the end of her driveway you felt like your heart was in your throat. “Calm down, (y/n), it’s just a little hangout to get your book back and hear a few songs, no biggie, nothing to fret about at all.” you whispered to yourself, taking one last deep breath before continuing your walk up her driveway. You had just come into view from the garage when you heard Julie calling out your name. “(Y/n)! How was your walk?” Julie ran out to meet you, now walking beside you into the garage. “It was good! You actually live closer to me than I thought, it was only like a 15 minute walk,” you smiled at her and you continued the small talk until you looked up and met eyes with the brunette guitarist. “(Y/n), these are the guys, Alex, Reggie and Luke,” she introduced them to you and you raised your hand in a wave. “Yeah, i’ve seen you guys perform before, you’re all really good!” you smiled and met each of their gazes. “Thanks! And that was all our old stuff, just wait until you hear what we have coming, um..” Luke stuttered realizing he didn’t know your name. You went to say it but Alex beat you to it. “(Y/n) you idiot,” he hit the back of Luke's head, while rolling his eyes. A blush rose to Luke’s face and he laughed it off. “I-I knew that, I-I just-” “You’re at the school for dance right?” Alex spoke again, interrupting and trying to take the attention off of the stuttering Luke. You smiled and nodded. “Yeah! I’m on a dance scholarship, so that's my main focus but my second is visual art, which reminds me,” You take your backpack off and pull out Julies song book, “here’s this!” She smiles and takes it from you. “Ugh thanks so much, I don’t know what I would have done if I lost this, Reggie can you grab her sketchbook? It’s on the piano!” Julie opened her book and smiled looking at the page. “Oh wow,” you heard Reggie mutter causing everyone to turn to him, “(y/n) this stuff is like, really good.” You blushed and looked down at your feet, you’ve never been good at accepting compliments. “Dude, boundaries!” Julie muttered reaching for the book, but Luke got to it first, taking his own turn looking through the pages. Your heart jumped when he started smiling at the pages he was flipping through, you didn’t have anything in there that you kept hidden, it was just that no one had ever gone through your work before. “You have so many different styles, this one is like a cartoon, but then the next one is like hyper realistic.” Luke looks up to make eye contact and you felt a blush rise to your cheeks. Alex took the second of him being distracted to pull the book away from him and hand it back to you. “I’m sorry for them, they still haven’t figured out what it means to respect someone's privacy.” He narrowed his eyes at his two bandmates. “You know,” you opened the book in your hands to search for a particular page, “I actually have something of each of you individually. I sketched them out the night after I saw one of your guys’ gigs.” You scrunch your face in concentration, you feel everyone rush to stand behind you when you finally find it. You look around at them to take in their reactions, their eyes were all glued to the papers you were displaying in front of you, Reggies mouth falling open. “Oh! Is this why you asked for the pictures my dad took of that night?” Julie looked up at you. “Yeah, I wanted to be able to add the details of everyone's chosen instruments and get some added information on where the highlights were from the lights,” you looked at each of their faces again and made a rash decision to gently tear the pages from your book, handing them to each respective person. Each person held them gently in their hands, then looked up to you in amazement. You just shrugged your shoulders in response, not knowing what else to say. “Well,” you looked out the window and saw the setting sun, “I better start my walk back to my house, it’s getting dark and I wanna get back before that happens. Enjoy the pictures guys!” You smile and turn to walk away, all the band still shocked to silence. “She’s never torn a page from her book before,” you hear Julie tell the boys as you walk further down the driveway, smiling to yourself. It was true, you never pull pages from your sketchbook, not this one at least, it was the better quality of all the other ones you had. You typically just used the less expensive books for class, you go through all the pages so quickly you didn’t want to waste the one’s in your higher quality notebook for the rough sketches, but the pages that you drew the band on were in the higher quality notebook, you had taken the time to really get them right, and they turned out fantastic. Your mother had always told you to spread joy where you can, and after seeing all their faces you knew that it was only right to let them have the pages that they were looking at. You arrived home and couldn’t wipe the smile off your face, there might be something there with them, an opportunity to make new friends, to open up. This idea makes you both nervous and excited, you let these thoughts and ideas later lull you to sleep. --- The next day at school you were walking to your locker when Julie caught your eye, she was waiting in her phone by your locker door. You would usually see her in passing in the mornings, but this is new. “Hey Julie, what’s up?” You greet the curly haired girl at your locker. “Hey (y/n)! Not much really, just watched to catch you this morning and run an idea past you…” She smiles and looks around her before returning her gaze back to you. “Okay? Is everything alright? You seem nervous,” you giggled at her antics and went back to putting the combination into your locker. “Yeah, yeah, I just know you take a while to open up and get close with new people, and I don’t wanna rush you into anything you aren’t ready for, but the boys and I were wondering if-” She gets cut off by a yell from down the hallway. “JULIE! HAVE YOU ASKED HER YET?” You turn to see all three boys running towards you, Julie facepalming at Reggies yell. “Geez Reg, she literally just got here. There's no need to yell,” Julie rolls her eyes at them and looks back to you. “Anyways, we were wondering if you wanted to make more designs and stuff for the band, like for posters and maybe album art one day.” She smiles at you after finishing. “You-you want me to… really?” Your eyes widen in shock. “Yeah! We all really like what you did with those portraits, and you’re pretty chill letting us keep them and all, we want you to be a part of our band, even if it isn’t you on stage with us, you’ll keep things looking cool.” Luke says as he leans against the lockers beside you. “Plus, then you’ll be able to hang out with us more!” Reggie pipes in. They all look at each other then back at you. “So,” Alex smiles at you, “What do ya think?” A million thoughts fly through your mind at once, they really want you to hang out with them more? They liked what you did? You looked at them all, looking back at you, and smiled. “I’d love to.”

tag list ✨

@gia-kerks @fangirlangioma

#jatp #jatp imagine #jatp luke #jatp luke x reader #luke patterson #luke x reader #luke patterson x reader #luke patterson imagine #jatp luke patterson #jatp luke patterson imagine #jatp luke imagine #one day #luke patterson x fem!reader #mini series

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maybedefinitely404 · 4 years ago

Text

Day 29: Prinxiety/Loceit (pt 4)

Aaaand, part 4, the finale!

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

@tsshipmonth2020

Day 29: You have a telepathic link with your soulmate until the two of you meet.

Content warnings: discussion of conversion therapy/after effects, PTSD, food mentions, anxiety/panic attacks, internalized homophobia, mentions of the foster system/abuse (mental, emotional, neglect, past eating disorder), minor self harm/blood, mentions of dissociating.

Word count: 5.1k

Despite Roman’s claims that being around other people would only distract him, and he didn’t want to have to walk to the library every time he had homework, Patton’s constant pleading eventually broke him down. Now, much to his roommate’s delight, they spent every night in the middle of the study floor in the library, and Roman found that he actually looked forward to it. Sometimes someone he knew would walk by, and give him a valid reason to take a short break, and having other people around somehow motivated him to work harder. He was starting to understand the appeal of the place.

Now, Patton and him were spending their afternoon there between classes, both working on their own projects and sharing a bag of popcorn twists. It was the only oil soaked snack that didn’t leave much residue on their fingers. Roman was deep in thought, struggling to remember an especially flowery Shakespeare monologue for a mock audition next week, when Patton kicked his leg under the table.

“What, Pat?” He took another moment to finish the sentence before he tore his eyes away from the book, surprised at his roommate’s barely contained excitement.

“You’ve been humming for half an hour!”

He hadn’t even noticed. He tended to do it a lot without realizing; humming along to his soulmate’s music. Ever since he’d come back almost a year ago, an occurrence he’d never had explained but held onto with fondness, Roman’s heart jumped every time his music played. It was just like old times, their old system immediately reinstated, and more than once he’d found himself singing along to the melodies in his head. Patton knew this, and could probably tell by the genre whether Roman was listening to his soulmate’s songs, or just had his own earworm.

“No, no, no, I like your humming! That’s not the point!”

“Then what’s the-”

“The guy behind you has his earbuds loud enough to hear!”

Roman strained his ears, and yes, he could barely hear the music coming from behind him. He definitely hadn’t noticed before, too deep in thought to notice something so trivial. But Patton was always on high alert, never able to keep his mind on one thing at a time.

“Okay, but what does that ha-”

“You’ve been humming the same songs as he’s been listening to for half an hour, Ro! I think he’s your soulmate!”

Roman’s eyes widened and he spun around, effectively dropping his book onto the ground. Yeah, if he concentrated, he could tell that the song in his head was the same as the one just audible through the other’s earbuds.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive!”

That’s all the convincing Roman needed. He jumped to his feet and rounded the other table so he was face to face with the stranger and knocked on the table a couple times. When he made eye contact, he thought he saw fear in the other’s face, but that couldn’t be right. Roman was not intimidating. The man at the table reached up to pop out one of his earbuds.

“Hello lovely, I have a question for you,” Roman purred, dropping onto his elbows on the table.

“I- I don’t-”

Apparently that counted as a meeting, because in that moment, the music in Roman’s head faded into nothingness. And he could tell it wasn’t just the music being paused. He was left with a neutral emptiness he hadn’t felt in a long time, a silence that was rare, and an innate knowledge that it had happened: their link was no longer necessary and had dissipated. Roman grinned wide, barely concealing a squeal.

“You’re my soulmate!”

He didn’t know what reaction he was expecting, but he sure as hell hadn’t expected the man at the table to get up and sprint out of the building at full speed.

“Stay here, Ro,” Patton was suddenly at his side, laying a hand on his bicep, “I’ll go after him. I don’t know what just happened but I don’t want it to happen again.”

Patton scooped up the other man’s things from the table and jogged out the library door.

-----

Virgil didn’t know where he was going; he hadn’t planned on running out of the library. Dammit, he hadn’t planned to run into his soulmate. And he knew that was his soulmate, and not just some weird coincidence. Because the moment they’d locked eyes, it was as if something in his mind had snapped, like a rubber band that had always been there but the pressure was so constant he didn’t notice it there until it was gone. Their bond had snapped; it was no longer necessary, because he’d met his soulmate.

He recognized the guy, just barely. They were in the same first year math class, a course often taken by upperclassmen (probably like his soulmate) because they’d put off getting a math credit until their final years. Logan had warned Virgil of that when he was choosing his first year courses, and so he was safely getting it out of the way so he could focus on his major in the coming years.

His breathing was choppy and strained as he tried to calm down his panic attack, dropping onto the ground under a large tree. He couldn’t keep running lest he collapse and draw more attention to himself, and that was far worse than anything he could imagine. Fighting the urge to scratch at his skin, he buried his head in his hoodie clad arms, fumbling with one hand to free his phone from his pocket.

It’s actually a guy, it’s a guy, he’s gay, wrong wrong wrong-

No, not wrong. It’s not wrong.

Yes it is, it’s going to hurt, you’re going to hurt, wrong wrONG WRONG!

His hands were shaking far too hard to text but he tried anyways, begging Janus to come pick him up early. Logan wouldn’t be done work for another couple hours, and usually Virgil would be fine just doing homework until his dad was ready to drive them home, but he didn’t think he’d be able to handle being on campus much longer.

“Hey, kiddo?”

Virgil’s head jerked up just as he clicked send, fighting every urge in his body to bolt again. It wasn’t the guy… his soulmate… but someone else he hadn’t met before, panting.

“Heya, my name’s Patton! You ran out without your stuff, so I brought it!”

Oh, he was holding his backpack, and his folder under one arm. Virgil was just trying to encourage his legs to move, to stand so he could take his things, when the stranger dropped into the grass in front of him. He flinched.

“Here ya go,” He pushed it towards him like a child trying to coax out a scared cat, “I’m so sorry me and Ro scared you. He just gets over excited sometimes. I promise he’s actually very gentle.”

Virgil stared, pulling in a halting breath.

“The guy who ran up to you, that’s Roman. I’m his roommate, by the way. I’m Patton. Did I introduce myself? Doesn’t matter. I’m a third year psychology major. Roman’s in third year too, music and theatre major.”

He should probably introduce himself too, but his hands were frozen, clamped around his phone, and he found his voice wasn’t cooperating. That didn’t deter the other dude, though.

“Here, I wrote out both of our numbers. Roman feels super bad for scaring you, so you can take your time, if you want.” He delicately placed a ripped piece of notebook paper on the backpack between them, “His is the first one. But I put mine in there too, so you can text me if you want to talk. The more friends, the better.”

Virgil’s phone buzzed, alerting him of Janus’ response.

“I’ll let you be, okay? Remember to text!” With an exuberant wave, he dashed back to the library. Virgil read Janus’ panicked message, asking what had happened, in a bit of a daze. His dad agreed to come get him, so he stuffed the paper into his pocket and slung his backpack over his shoulder.

-----

Janus had asked him not to go into his room when he was so worked up, instead giving him free reign of the living room while the older restarted the dinner he’d abandoned in favor of picking his son up. He’d turned on the TV for Virgil, changing the channel to a nature documentary, given Virgil his favorite weighted blanket, and left him with strict orders to call him if he started spiraling or needed a hug.

The distraction had worked for a while, the soothing voice of the narrator almost lulling him to sleep, until his racing brain had come to the conclusion that this was the worst thing to ever happen in the history of ever and that he was going to die alone. He’d been a little hopeful that his soulmate would be a girl, to somewhat appease his trauma, but life was never that easy. A part of him had also been a little miffed about that hope, because as much as he liked to pretend, he had a preference for boys. A big preference. And his soulmate was cute.

“Everything okay, Virgil?” Janus called through the pass through window into the kitchen, taking his eyes off his food preparation to watch his son’s pacing.

“Yup!” He lied, picking and scratching at the skin of his hands out of his dad’s view. The pain settled him a little, giving him something he could control, but he knew he’d get a figurative slap on the wrist for it later. A concerned slap, not an angry one. Maybe more of ‘a cuddle on the couch and wrap the little patches of broken skin and an update with his counsellor’. So not really a slap. At all. As it usually went.

Everything was wrong. What kind of shit first impression had he given his soulmate? Getting up and running away like an actual child? And that was only part of it. He was damaged goods, a broken person, who needed more help and reassurance than any other person. How could he explain to his soulmate that he was the cause of his problems without making him feel guilty? That wasn’t the life the man had signed up for, wasn’t the soulmate burden he’d wanted. He would want someone easy, someone who wouldn’t have panic attacks when they got shocked by a door knob, who didn’t stop eating when they were scared, who pressed pause on life when he woke up in a dissociating headspace. He couldn’t say that to him. He’d lost everything, that vague musical connection to an invisible soulmate, that had given him a subtle hope. It had been a quiet illusion, a promise that he’d be fine if it were never fulfilled. Knowing there was someone out there, providing him music, had been enough. But now…

“Virgil, hold these for me.”

When had Logan gotten home? He put his hands out obediently, clenching the fingers over the ice cubes placed in each palm. The sensation startled him and sent a shiver up his spine.

“Four, seven, eight. Ready?”

He followed the breathing pattern eagerly, feeling the curls of anxiety in his stomach slowly settle into butterflies. When he was breathing normally, an overwhelming sense of dizziness almost knocked him over. Logan took his arm and led him to the couch.

The next moment, Janus was kneeling in front of him, rubbing disinfectant into his few bloody scratches, the melting water dripping through his fingers and onto the carpet.

“I should have noticed,” he murmured as he stuck a couple bandaids onto each hand, refusing to meet Virgil’s eyes.

“Don’t blame yourself, Janus. I don’t think it was happening for too long,” Logan assured, running a hand down Virgil’s spine. “Did this have to do with the reason you left school early today?”

Virgil nodded.

“Are you nonverbal?”

“No,” he choked, clearing his throat, “Just dry throat.”

“I got it,” Janus leapt to his feet and hurried to the kitchen.

With a heavy sigh, Virgil leaned into Logan’s side, the hand on his back traveling to wrap around his shoulder comfortingly. The last drops of the ice cube hit the carpet, and he dried his hands off on his jeans. “I met my soulmate today.”

“I see,” Logan said. For the umpteenth time, Virgil was beyond grateful that Logan was an expert at masking reactions. It made difficult conversations easier.

“It’s a guy.”

“How did that go?”

“I ran out of the library and had a panic attack. His roommate brought me my stuff and gave me their numbers. I made an idiot out of myself.”

Logan was quiet, giving Virgil a little squeeze. A water glass was pressed into his hands and Virgil downed the whole thing, passing it back to Janus, who placed it on the coffee table.

“I think… I think I’m magnifying. Maybe.” He described his thoughts that led to his spiral as quickly as possible, feeling slightly pleased when Logan agreed with his hypothesis.

“You are definitely magnifying. Good job for recognizing that, Virgil. You don’t even know him, much less what he thought of your interaction.”

“What’s our next step?” Janus spoke up, resting a hand on Virgil’s knee and rubbing it with his thumb.

He shook his head. “I don’t know.”

“Can you sleep on it, and message him tomorrow?”

Virgil thought about for a second before shaking his head even harder, “No. I have class with him tomorrow, and we’re getting a study guide for a test. I can not miss it. But what if he comes up to me, or wants to talk, and I embarrass myself again, and-”

His dads both hushed him at the same time and he took a deep breath, closing his eyes against Logan’s side. “What do I do?”

“You could message him tonight,” Janus drawled.

“Are you crazy?” He shrieked, “No! What would I even say? ‘Hey, you freaked me out today, sorry for running like a lunatic’?!”

“Why not explain the cause for your hasty escape?” Logan piped in.

“That’s way too much to load onto him as a first conversation.”

“Not all the gory details, just a vague explanation. That’s how I started talking to Logan,” Janus stated, adjusting his position on the floor. “If he’s your soulmate, Virge, he’ll be okay to deal with this. It’ll come out eventually, and if something else happens, it will be nice for him to have some context.”

Virgil groaned. “I hate when you make sense.”

“We can help you construct an adequate message.” Logan squeezed him again, meeting Janus’ eyes with a small smile.

“Fine.” Virgil snarled, pulling out his phone and the two numbers, typing the first one into his ‘new contact’ list. “Okay, what do I say?”

-----

V: Hey, I’m Virgil. We met earlier today. In a manner of speaking.

R: OMG, hi! I’m Roman. I am SO sorry for startling you!

V: It’s okay. It wasn’t your fault.

R: I still feel bad DX

“He feels bad, what do I do?!”

“I would suggest explaining the reason you ran off to ease his concerns.”

“Me too. But ask first, and don’t give more details than you’re comfortable with.”

V: Can I be brutally honest for just a second?

R: Should I be nervous? Haha go ahead!

V: I was forced into conversion therapy about a year back, and I still carry a lot of the trauma with me. That’s why I ran. It was just gut instinct.

“He’s not responding, oh god, he’s going to block me, why isn’t he responding?!”

“I assume this news would take a moment to process. Focus on your breathing, Virgil. Don’t magnify.”

“You also sent it, like, ten seconds ago.”

R: Holy shit, that’s terrible. I’m so sorry.

“...That’s not what I expected.”

“This is a regular reaction from a human being with even a lick of common sense, Virgil.”

“Seconded.”

V: It’s okay, I have a really great support system now.

R: That’s good. I’ve never experienced anything like that, so I can only imagine how hard that was.

R: I don’t expect you to answer if you don’t want to or don’t know, so please don’t feel pressured, but do you know what kind of soulbond we have? Is it platonic?

“Shit, fuck, who do I answer that?”

“With the truth, I’d imagine. Do you have an answer to his question?”

“Remember what I told you, kid. Your own pace.”

“Logan, if I explain it, can you put it into words? Please?”

V: I’m not averse to a possible romantic relationship in the future, but at the moment I am still learning to become comfortable with myself, as I have negative connections to that part of my identity that can become problematic if not properly worked through at my own pace.

R: Give me a couple seconds to decode that

V: My dad wrote it, he’s a prof. I have both of them helping me not freak out right now.

R: You might want to date one day, but you need to take it slow because of your trauma.

V: Uhm… yeah. I could have said it like that.

R: Is talking to me upsetting you? We can always talk another time.

V: No, I’m okay.

R: Okay, then as far as I’m concerned, we move at your pace. That’s not an issue for me at all.

“I… oh. He’s… wow.”

“I agree with your sentiment.”

“I like this boy already.”

“DAD!”

R: Your dad’s a prof?

V: One of them is. He teaches at our school, Prof Sanders. 4th year chemistry?

R: Oh shit. I’m in his class.

V: Lol he thinks he knows you

R: You have two dads?

V: Yep

R: That’s so cool. I’d really love to meet them.

V: Wow, we met today and you’re already wanting to meet my parents?

R: Heeey, I want to meet them as a FRIEND.

V: My dad says after the semester’s over, you’re free to come by

One at a time, Virgil’s dads left him on the couch with an ear to ear grin, Janus to reheat dinner and Logan following him just so he could cling to his husband's waist as he moved around the kitchen. Neither of them wanted to disturb the little bubble their son was in.

-----

In the weeks following, they’d started to sit together in the one class they shared. Virgil had begun to join him and Patton on their nightly library study sessions, and after some more gentle convincing, had given in to sitting with their whole friend group during meals at the cafeteria. He was growing more comfortable with Roman, no doubt about that.

Didn’t mean he wasn’t fighting off an anxiety attack as he waited by the door to get picked up for their first outing alone.

He kept checking his phone and glancing out the peephole as Janus ran calming fingers through his hair. Virgil leaned into the touch instinctively, consciously slowing his breathing as Janus hummed. Logan was watching him from the entrance to the hall, leaning on the kitchen door frame. There wasn’t much he could do, but dammit if he wasn’t going to watch his son go off on the most anxiety inducing situation of all of their lives.

“You’ll be okay, kid,” Janus muttered, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head. “You’ve been friends with him for a while now, and he said there were no expectations. You’re in total control here.”

“What if I have a flashback, or a panic attack, or go nonverbal or something? He’s going to freak the fuck out and then all the work will be for noth-”

Logan spoke up. “You’re worried about things that may not even happen. And besides, haven’t you spoken to Roman about these things already?”

“A bit. Not in detail,” he whispered.

“I would suggest you do so, today if possible. It will make any possible situations that arise easier and less jarring to deal with.”

Virgil looked up at Janus, a pleading look in his eyes.

“He’s right, kid. The sooner you get it out of the way, the better.”

There was a knock at the door and Virgil nearly jumped out of his skin. To his disdain, Janus backed away until he was next to Logan, gesturing at the door with a small smile. Virgil growled out a curse and opened the door, the scowl on his face melting into a sickeningly authentic smile.

“How’s my favorite emo? Hi Mr. Sanders, hey Prof.”

“Hello.”

“Salutations.”

“Your favorite emo?” Virgil snarked, pulling on his jacket. It wasn’t cold, not in the slightest, but he’d rather have the extra layer.

“You’re the only emo I know, so the choice is easy.”

“By process of elimination, doesn’t that also imply I’m your least favorite emo too?”

“Don’t start this again, Mr. Son-of-a-professor.”

“I’ll start it if I want to!”

The door closed behind them with one final wave to his parents, and the house was quiet. Janus leaned into Logan’s waiting arms, resting his head on the other’s collar bone.

“He’s all grown up.”

“That he is, my love.”

-----

Virgil smirked as Roman set out a large cliche picnic blanket, gesturing for him to sit. He did, crossing his legs and leaning on his knees as the other began to unload the basket.

“Okay, so for sandwiches, I have turkey, peanut butter and jelly, and ham. Patton made me bring apple slices because he’s a dad, but I’m sure we can convince the ducks to eat them.”

To prove his point, a group of ducks paddled out from under a weeping willow half submerged in the creek.

“I like apples,” Virgil defended, grabbing a slice from the open container and shoving the whole thing in his mouth. “How many people were you intending to feed with that much food?”

Roman pouted from behind a container of potato salad. “I had to show off my food skills, duh.”

“You made that?” Virgil asked with raised eyebrows as Roman set out a tin of mini quiches and a smaller one stacked with brownies and cookies.

“The cookies were Patton’s, but he insisted I take some. And I would have bought more, but…” He tipped the basket towards Virgil, revealing the bottom absolutely filled with different canned drinks and water bottles. “I didn’t know what you wanted to drink.”

Virgil actually did laugh as he stretched forward to snag a Doctor Pepper, taking another apple slice as he sat back.

“Do you have a sandwich preference?” Roman asked, choosing a Sprite for himself.

“Turkey looks good.” Virgil said before his choice paralysis could come into play, breathing a sigh of relief as Roman handed one of the sandwiches to him. The less stress he added to his own life, the better.

Roman had been right to bring an assortment of food, because dammit, he was a really good chef. Virgil was nervous to try a quiche, since he’d never had them before and the texture was odd to him, but Roman assured that if he didn’t like it, he’d eat it instead. Apparently he wasn’t eeked out by germs. After a nibble though, Virgil ate almost half the tin. Who knew cold eggs could be good? Roman took the ham sandwich, and they split the PB&J. The ducks were more than pleased to be given Roman’s half of the apple slices but Virgil refused to share, since fresh fruits were still a treat after a life of preserves. The younger wasn’t a huge fan of the potato salad, so Roman eagerly finished it, seemingly more excited to move onto the desserts but not wanting to leave any leftovers.

They were just finishing up the frankly absurd amount of cookies and brownies when Roman broke their casual bickering, chasing a chocolate chip bite with a long swig of Sprite and tossing another apple to their swarm of awaiting ducks.

“So, tell me a bit about yourself, Virge.”

“What do you want to know?” Virgil replied, leaning back on his hands.

“Anything, really. Childhood, siblings, favorite color, darkest fear.”

“Quite a spectrum, there.” There was a lot he could talk about, but he felt it might be better to get the bigger things out of the way. Janus was sort of the leading expert on this kind of thing, so his advice had probably been sound. He brushed his hands together to get the crumbs off them as he spoke, “Okay, so I grew up in the foster system.”

Roman tried to hide his wince. “Ouch. I’ve heard a lot of bad things.”

“It’s fucked,” Virgil drawled, stretching his arms above his head with a yawn, “I spent most of my time in a group home, though, because I was called ‘difficult’. No one wanted to deal with my ass.”

“Why?”

“Mmm, ran away, didn’t listen, talked back, antagonized any biological kids.”

“So like, a normal teenager?” The last apple slice was sacrificed to the feathered hoard.

Virgil snorted, “Yeah, but I came with a receipt. And I kind of liked the group home more.”

“How many kids were in the home?”

“Never more than fifteen. It was a big home. But they circulated, and I was like a housecat. Never gone for more than a month.”

“Jeez,” Roman sighed, taking a sip of his soda.

“My foster homes weren’t better.”

“Oh?” It was a subtle encouragement to keep talking, but now it was getting into territory that Virgil liked to avoid.

“One of my foster houses was really neglectful, forgot to give us food, didn’t let us do laundry, that kind of stuff. Gave me a wicked ED. I was twelve.”

Roman grimaced.

“My next one was more emotionally and mentally manipulative. I was kind of made into a babysitter for their younger bio kids. I had to get them ready for school, make them dinner, just basically be a parent. After I ran away from them, they started having trouble placing me. I was older, had a shitty record, kind of a left over. I mean, I deserved it. I was a dick.”

“You were a kid, Virgil.”

“A kid who chose to make his own life harder.” He shrugged, “That’s why I was placed into… that home. They were a last resort place for other ‘trouble kids’.”

Virgil took a deep breath and, with Janus’ words in his mind, began to explain his attempted conversion; the slip of tongue that led to the placement, the verbal abuse, food deprivation, electroshock therapy, the snuck antipsychotics, forced isolation, ending with the day the wife had called the police behind her husband’s back out of guilt and he was rescued.

Roman was quiet for a long minute after he finished talking, staring entranced at the can in his hands. The ducks had dispersed during Virgil’s story, upset at the lack of food.

“I…”

Virgil waited for him to get up and leave, to say with false apologies that he didn’t think they would work out, that the connection was wrong. Because who would want to deal with him, his stupid trauma? But the man next to him didn’t move except to breathe, and Virgil took that as an invitation to continue, his tone quieter.

“I was super out of it for a while. Honestly, I don’t remember the rescue, or like a solid month after that, except for snippets here and there. The drugs were fucky. And then my social worker, god bless her heart, found Janus and Logan. Janus was in CT too for a while when he was younger, so they took me in. Took a long time, but I opened up to them, but by then I was eighteen. They still insisted on adopting me, though, and there’s absolutely no convincing Logan once he’s made his mind up, so… they did.” He waved his hands around a little.

“Three months,” Roman blurted out of nowhere, making Virgil flinch.

“What?”

“Were you in ther-... CT for three months?”

“Two and a bit, why?” The moment it was out of his mouth, he realized the implications, and his heart froze.

“You were gone for three months. I thought you died, or… I don’t even know.” Roman looked like he was about to cry, watching Virgil imploringly. Him going MIA must have affected his soulmate more than he’d thought.

“Two months of CT, and then another one before I got a new phone. I’m…” All the guilt he’d felt at the time came rushing back, the reminder of his soulmate’s music dwindling to almost nothing and him being helpless, “I’m sorry. Shit, I’m so sorry. That must have been…”

“No, Virgil, you don’t get to apologize. That was not your fault.” He reached out a hand as if to grab Virgil’s and immediately pulled back, wringing his fingers instead. “Sorry, my choice of comforting is physical. But I won’t.”

“Thank you,” Virgil choked out, running his hands through his hair.

“Can you look at me?”

He did, taking a shuddering breath. He was moments away from a panic attack and he was not looking forward to that disaster.

“You were being- quite literally- tortured for months. You were abused in ways that shouldn’t be legal, and you came out the other side stronger. Frankly, I’m amazed at your perseverance. You’re amazing.”

Simultaneously, Virgil felt a hot blush rise to his ears, and a sharp jolt run through his arms into his chest. He jerked violently, tipping over his own soda onto the grass.

“Shit, did I say something wrong?” Roman gasped, reaching over to pluck up the can before it could spill more. It was already half empty, thank goodness.

“No, I just… do that. Sometimes. From… CT. Kind of like ghost shocks, I guess.” Why couldn’t the ground just open up and swallow him whole, he wondered. He hadn’t done that jerk thing in front of anyone in so long. The last time had been in front of his now-parents, and they’d quickly grown used to it. He’d grown used to their own contact very soon and his twitches had stopped after he was accustomed to it, but it had never been directed towards him, and he had a feeling he’d need time to stop his impulse reactions.

“And me calling you amazing…”

“Triggered them. It’s an exposure thing though, so I’ll just need to get used to it. Don’t blame yourself.” He dug the heels of his hands into his eyes until bright white flashes of light burst into his vision. Suddenly, he was exhausted.

“Do you want me to drive you home?” Roman asked, already packing up their picnic basket. Virgil nodded, his social meter drained, and all ability to be a civil person was quickly deteriorating. His therapist said that would also begin to heal after a while.

Roman was an absolute angel though, letting the silence linger so Virgil could cradle his slowly growing headache, even opening the door of his car like a perfect gentleman. As they pulled out of the parking lot, Virgil rested his head against the seat and let a tiny smile tug at his lips. It would be a long process to retrain his brain (in theory, he was okay with being in a relationship with a man, but actually doing it? Infinitely harder), but for once, he was actually looking forward to the process.

Would you guys like a collection of one shots surrounding Virgil’s gradual warming up to his new family, a decent mix of angst and fluff? I have some ideas.

Thanks for reading! Now, a taglist.

@sapphic-satan

@anxious-logic

@wigsnatchedhoteltrivago

@extraintrovertedalien

@punk-academian-witch

@ray-does-stuff

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@lostspacecat

@green-call

#lywrites #tsshipmonth2020 #prinxiety #roman sanders #virgil sanders #loceit #logan sanders #janus sanders #patton sanders #sanderssides #sanderssidesau #sanderssidesfanfiction #sanders sides #sanders sides au #sanders sides fanfiction #ts soulmate au

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pettyrevenge-base · 3 years ago

Text

Smug Teacher Loses.

Idk if it’s really revenge. I just have always looked back and laughed at this memory. So back in high school o was an honors and AP student. This happened my junior year. I sucked at math period but have always been good at science, english, and history.

I was kinda in the I don’t care stage of high school since most the honors classes were easy I just kinda skated by with a B. I knew from the year prior if I aced the tests my grade would even out to an A and I wouldn’t have to take the final exams. (Anyone in my classes who had an A didn’t have to take exams because our other grades supposedly proved we knew the material)

I had this English teacher I really disliked from day one. I would usually read or draw in her class as I had most the work done already. (I have adhd and anxiety. I am terrified of waiting to long to do work so I hurry through it so I don’t procrastinate) She didn’t like me because she knew I never really read the assigned work etc. during class work time but still turned in my work on time and kept my grade up. I missed one class for a Culinary club field trip and it brought my grade down to a C as she never let me make that work up no matter how much I asked.

The final approached and sadly I did have to take this exam since it was a state exam. She pulled me out into the hall as well as others 1 at a time to go over our grades. She told me that if I didn’t pass this exam with a 3 or higher I would make a D or fail her class. (Exams are graded 1-4 in the USA) She said this with fake sympathy.

Fast forward the exams were reading comprehension. I didn’t do the practice test in class as it offered no grade. I went right in to the exam because reading comprehension has never been really difficult for me and at this point I wanted her to stop with the smug attitude. I took the exam and was first to finish and she came to me an asked if I had gone back over my work to double check and I smiled informing her yes in fact.

When exams came back she was asking us one at a time again to come out into the hall for our results. She called me with tight lips. She seemed angry and was short with me. She told me I had not only passed with a 4 but had the highest score in my grade. It’s this moment that I always look back on and laugh at my teachers expression.

I hate how some teachers just dislike students based on how they learn. If it doesn’t please them then they act cold or indifferent towards us. I’m now 26 and my 17 yr old brother has her as a teacher and he’s just as bad as me. XD She probably goes home talking about how bad my family is but we do work hard we he and I just learn better on our own terms.

Source: reddit.com/r/pettyrevenge

#pettyrevenge #lol #omg

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hooniee · 4 years ago

Text

— ꒰‧⁺paris run away *ೃ༄

↷ heeseung x reader ⋯ ♡ᵎ

↷genre: fluff | comdey ⋯ ♡ᵎ

↷ warnings: not proofread | none! ⋯ ♡ᵎ

↷ synopsis: (y/n) just graduates from high school and feel incomplete but doesn’t know what’s missing. a trip to paris might be able to fix that ⋯ ♡ᵎ

↷ author note: this is @enhypenwriters event of the month! strangers to lovers <3 i think this was my favorite to write out of the three pieces but i feel like it’s lacking some flare :( i think it still turned out okay though. i hope you enjoy <3 ⋯ ♡ᵎ

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .*

you should have listened to sunoo when he said that it wasn't a good plan to travel to a foreign country on impulse.

you wouldn’t say you’ve ever been the most courageous person in your life. determined to break that trend, you planned this super out of the blue trip without much thought.

yeah. maybe this was a bit TOO courageous.

you didn't comprehend what compelled you yet here you were, arriving at paris charles de gaulle airport.

you stared at the large windows of the airport, viewing the plane that you had just left.

the gate for the concluding passengers had been locked by the flight stewardesses.

one of the stewardesses obtained eye contact with you, before shooting a smile and lightly bowing her head.

you absentmindedly returned the gesture, mind elsewhere.

bustling throughout the airport were people hurrying to their connecting flight or slumping into their lover's arms

people carried two or more suitcases with various bags strapped on their bodies, nothing on you besides a petite sling purse and one small carry on suitcase.

as weaved your way through the mass of stressed travelers, you briefly thought to yourself

how the hell did you get here?

2 days earlier

clusters of kids outfitted in blue gowns and caps could be recognized a mile away.

the graduation from high school to university.

your friend minji encloses her arm around your shoulder, your arm resting on her waist.

minji’s mom was stood in front of the both of you, gesturing wildly as she tried to take the ‘perfect graduation photo’ as she had put it

"okay pose! get a little closer, perfect. 1, 2, 3" your friend's mom counts.

the camera shudders which creates a beaming light to flash, eyes faintly twitching.

shrieks could be heard throughout the campus as girls queued up to take their final photographs with the popular guys.

minji's mom draws back the camera and we check the picture.

"it's cute," minji exclaims, peering at it a bit more closer. you nod your head in approval.

you would miss minji, one of the friends you could constantly count on in math class when you neglected to do your homework from binging korean dramas.

"i'll send you the picture later (y/n)! don't forget about me alright? you have my socials and you can always talk to me," minji grasps your hands

you smile, feeling sad at the departure of your best friend, "of course minji, don't forget me either"

"i could never," she brings you into a secure hug.

"sweet pea perfume," you say and she chuckles. sweat pea was minji's preferred perfume and you would miss that aroma.

"i have to go now, but i'll see you around okay?" minji says.

you could notice tears well up in her eyes and she fans her eyes to prevent the tears.

"don't cry ji, i'll start crying," you joked. "i live near here and you can always visit me! my door will always be open."

she smiled, "the same goes for you." her mother shouts her name before she has to go.

"alright, see you around," you wave to her as she leaves.

on the opposite side of the garden, your mom signals to you with your bouquet of red roses in hand.

"are you ready honey?" she asks you and you smile, nodding your head.

the car ride was in pleasant quietness, light radio music fluttering in. you had taken off your cap and laid it in the car seat next to you accompanying with your bouquet.

you had glimpsed outside to see your campus still arranged with your classmates, beaming and posing for additional pictures.

you bitterly smiled.

for the first time, graduation didn't appear like one of those liberating scenes of a movie,

1 day ago

you sprawled on his bed, staring straight up. a fan in your hand, fanning the perspiration that threatened to come.

your eyes match the fan's speed directly above your neighbor and best friend, sunoo's, bed.

his air conditioner was broken. with the avail of those elementary paper fans and the only fan stationed in the house, you were able to find comfort

you questioned if he ever got frightened of it dropping on him when he slept.

sunoo occupies the bathroom that's joined to his room, applying some light powder.

your mind strays, more thoughts simmering in the back of your brain. you sigh for the 10th time and sunoo being exasperated, allows out a loud groan.

it draws you out of your daze and you snap your head towards him."

"what is with you? what is on your mind sunshine?" he shuts his cushion, flinging himself on the bed.

"are you ever scared of the fan falling on you?" you felt the bed dip

"no, it's been like that for years, and don't change the subject. what's wrong?" sunoo retorted

"what makes you say that? i'm fine, " you answer

"uh-huh," sunoo rolls his eyes

it's the blatant eye-roll rather than the hushed one, he implied business

"you've been sighing for the past ten minutes, spill," sunoo says

of course, sunoo could recognize your distress. what sort of best friend would he be if he couldn't distinguish your emotions?

you huff, " okay then"

"i don't know why but i just feel stuck? i just graduated high school and nothing feels different, i mean it doesn't have to, but what do i do now? maybe i just watched too many movies"

sunoo tsked, " (y/n). sweetie, i graduated last year and i'm still stuck here. i do nothing besides go out or stay in my room. no in-between."

"but you have something sunoo. you have a bunch of your friends, you're an instagram star and i don't know, it's just different, "

it was accurate, sunoo was extremely popular. he had a bunch of friends and acquaintances from being the vice president.

sunoo inflated up on social media for his content from makeup to dance practices, a versatile instagram star.

you conceal your face with your hands before emitting a loud groan.

sunoo remarks, "i don't know how i can help you (y/n)? maybe you should try to rest a bit"

"easy for you to say, you, who isn’t dealing with a mid-life crisis, " you whine.

"this isn't a mid-life crisis, this is a post-graduation crisis which is totally normal. how about going out of town? obviously not to paris or whatever but maybe, what was her name again? minjoo's town!" sunoo suggested.

"obviously not to paris"

"not to paris"

"to paris"

"paris"

what about paris? paris was considerably away from your town and had a ring on the tip of your tongue.

you had sprung up, grasping sunoo by the shoulder and shaking him, "you're a genius sunoo! paris is a genius idea."

sunoo's eyes widen and he shakes his head while attempting to pry your hands off of him.

"no, you have to think rationally-"

you released sunoo from your hold which let him stabilize his spinning head.

"and i am! i need something new. being in this town for my whole life makes me realize, maybe i just need a spontaneous trip. "

your words scarcely blur together, adrenaline rushing through your blood as you understood this could jolt you out of your post-graduation slump.

"but-"

"no buts! pass me my laptop,"

present-day

you are currently disliking your choice, anxiety rushing through your veins, but it's too overdue to have other opinions.

you had landed in france and this was a life-altering moment; a chance of a lifetime.

peering nearby, you squint at the tiny english translations of the signs. you pull out your phone.

you open up the camera to see if zooming in would improve it for your eyes. as if on cue, your stomach rumbles vaguely making you startled.

you panicked as the pocket that was previously supplied with snacks became loaded with empty wrappers.

maybe if you would be lost in this wonderful city, you might as well try some of their famous pastries.

your muscles had retracted, the result of finally getting some movement after being restrained in a metal machine that was adjacent to the fiery sun.

you stumbled across this petite bakery and enter, sparingly bowing your head.

the owner was an older lady with her greying hair that designed it to resemble ashy highlights, pulled into a loose bun.

"que puis-je vous offrir?" she smiles.

"i'm sorry, i don't speak french?" you admit, embarrassed

as much as you assumed duolingo and rosetta stone could benefit you on a flight to paris, the only thing you could accomplish to say without messing up is "bonjour"

"that's fine mademoiselle! what can i offer you?" the lady shifts to englsih

you let out a sigh of relief, appreciative for blundering into this bakery.

"may i have your most popular pastry to go and a water bottle?" you smile, fishing out some euros.

you had looked down to the currency that you had exchanged before embarking on the plane.

"of course mademoiselle!" she says, reaching behind the counter and with her gloved hand, seizing a chocolate croissant.

"that will be 4.12 euros!" she rings you up in the cashier.

"is this the right amount? i'm not very good at counting euros," you revealed your hand where the money was.

she nodded her head and took the money, printing your receipt out. before giving you your receipt, she interviews you with a question that you weren't confident in answering"

"if you don't mind me asking, why are you here in france? not to sound rude! but i'm just curious"

you softly smile, sensing the kindness illuminating from her tone of voice. she wasn't rude at all and she was asking a simple question, but your brain struggled to obtain an answer.

"well, i would say i'm here to explore? i just finished high school and life felt incomplete. my best friend jokingly said "go to paris" and so I booked a ticket."

you look back up at her to see her delicate gaze. the rustling of the paper bag stopped the moment of silence

"that's amazing mademoiselle! france is the city for that. you must visit the notre-dam cathedral while you're here, it's beautiful. and maybe even find some love?"

she winks at you and you engage with a small giggle.

just like the show "emily in paris," you could merely fantasize about living a life like hers but it was an altered universe. she was an employed woman and you; a fresh graduate from high school.

"maybe! but i'm not looking forward to dating right now"

it wasn't a lie nor the truth. you would love to date someone right now but dating someone from a foreign country with a language barrier? not the most desirable idea. the owner laughs, handing you your pastry and water bottle.

"thank you for dropping by here mademoiselle! please enjoy your time in france,"

"merci beaucoup" you stumbled out, providing a small wave out.

the airport seemed to be more crowded than before. slowly opening the wrapping, you take a bite of the chocolate croissant and let out an audible gasp.

unquestionably, one of the greatest pastries you have tried in your life.

you promptly pull out your phone, snapping a picture for your instagram story. it was an adorable picture with the bakery in the background with the chocolate croissant in hand.

with "just landed" as your caption, you posted it to your close friends story. almost a second later, sunoo request to video call you.

you were welcomed by a piercing shriek into the phone.

"YAH I WAS JUST GREETED BY YOUR PARENTS WHO SAID YOU WERE AT A SLEEPOVER FOR A COUPLE DAYS? SLEEPOVER MY FOOT? YOU'RE IN PARIS-"

sunoo screeches over the phone and you timidly grimace, turning down the volume as people begin to stare.

"sunoo, i'm currently in a public airport with no earbuds plugged in, can you please STOP screaming?" you whispered audibly to him.

"OH, I FORG- sorry," sunoo sheepishly responds.

"my parents would never let me go this far so i just had to lie that i was going to a sleepover at minji's house which is out of town. plus i'm only going to be here for two days," you consult him.

"you saw me buy the tickets sunoo. why are you scolding me now? shouldn't you have tried to stop me while i was in the middle of buying the tickets?" you added.

"well now i want you to come back, who am i supposed to hang out with for the next 2 days?"

though it was dark in the setting sunoo was in, you could practically see his pouting face.

"you could hang out with jake? or sunghoon? aren't they both your friends?"

jake and sunghoon went to the same school as sunoo and you're buddies with them. you've known each other since middle school but jake and sunghoon were always closer to each other just like you and sunoo.

"jake and sunghoon hyung are busy on a vacation together in the bahamas"

you stifled a laugh in, "good luck being alone for the next two days."

"not funny (y/n)! besides that point, what if you get caught?"

"don't worry, i won't get caught because you're the only one who knows about this .as long as you don't rat me out sunoo," you scowl at him.

"i won't, i won't, i promise but you have to buy me something? deal?”

you roll your eyes, "deal mr. sunoo-shi, i have to go now. i need to try to find my hotel"

"be safe, love you!"

"i will! love you too"

you sulk after the call ends. without your best friend on your side, you felt a little feeble and lost but it's not time to be pondering like that.

paris awaits and you couldn't linger at the airport the whole day.

first challenge

getting to your hotel was a struggling. wandering around a city with no basis of the language besides "hello" and "thank you so much", didn't do enough for you.

first, you had to find a taxi that could converse in english. most people had turned you down as you couldn't speak french.

thankfully, it was a fortunate day and you met this kind lady who had coffee-colored curly locks, gentle chocolate eyes, and light freckles scattered around her face.

"do you speak english?" you crisscrossed your fingers, your legs close to giving out after scrambling for taxi drivers

"yeah, i do mademoiselle! would you like to hop in?" she extended a friendly smile and you had never felt bricks lift off your chest faster.

she opened the back of the taxi and you scouted in, permitting your purse to lay on your lap.

the women examined both directions of the road, looking out for passing cars and entered the driver's seat.

"where are you heading mademoiselle?"

you swiftly pull out your phone to your notes, "hotel le walt paris?"

you corked your eyebrow, making sure it was the right name before she nodded her head.

"a very famous hotel huh? right near the eiffel tower. i recommend that you wait till it gets dark and sit on the balcony to see the eiffel tower with lights. it's beautiful"

you smiled at the kind words of the lady, "i will surely try that! thank you miss..?"

"elena! elena is fine and you mademoiselle?"

"i'm (y/n)"

"it's nice to meet you"

"likewise"

the entire ride, you felt at some peace finally conversing with someone who understood english,

after a 30 minute drive, you had arrived at your destination.

feeling a sad departure from this mellow woman, who turned out to be 19 seeking to make some pocket money in the summer, she was one of the first people that you had grown connected with throughout this ride.

"elena, though it was a short time, thank you for keeping company"

you present her with a warm smile as she unlocks the door for you. you exit the taxi, clasping at your phone.

"here, give me your phone."

you softly planted it in elena's hand. you were perplexed about why she showed you your home screen until you realized you had a password.

you enter your password, giving it back to her. she did a bit of clicking and you could see her hands typing something in before returning the phone back to you.

"that's my instagram, stay in contact with me alright?"

you felt the sides of your lips curve into a slight smile. you dragged her into a soft hug.

"thank you elena"

she visibly hesitant before easing into the hug. she softly rubbed your back.

"i have to go, i might get fired if i stay here too long"

you bided her a fare-well. thirty minutes was an extended time to get a know a person.

and that was the first friend you met in france.

second challenge

checking into your hotel wasn't as difficult. most people could speak english and besides the uncanny looks that you received from the clerk, check-in was pretty smooth.

"here you are mademoiselle" the bellman lowers your suitcase in front of your hotel door.

"merci beaucoup," you smile and he returns the gesture before leaving you.

you look down in your hand where you are grasping the card tightly. you scan the card against the door meter and it flickers twice.

red, green

the door clicks before you push on it and reveal your hotel room.

at first glance, your mouth dropped.

the hotel room seemed better than it did on the online photographs which was a rare possibility.

though it was a small room, it was renovated beautifully.

overhead the king-sized bed, there was an extensive painting of the eiffel tower. a blue chair that held a place directly by the bed along with a little wooden table.

the hotel was fine but you definitely weren't

"(y/n) shut down in,"

"3"

"2"

"1"

before thinking, you throw yourself on the bed having the jet-lag kicking in. the bag offers a 'thump' sound as it connects with the ground.

'ouch that hurt'

you fish through your pocket, pulling out your phone. it was hardly twelve pm and you were already fatigued.

what was your strategy? you were in france for two days and you don't have a plan to do anything.

first things first, you needed to sort out this jet-lag.

1) taking a shower

showers are always a great way to awaken and could shake you from this daze. you endured a scream as your water turned to be ice cold. someone must be utilizing the hot water. that shower unmistakably woke you up

2) skincare

after getting out of the shower, skincare was the secondary way to wake up. cleansing with toner, dropping essence into the skin, and implementing a nice coat of moisturizer to lock-in.

3) fueling with food

food can beat anybody out of slumber if they're fueled with enthusiasm but you didn't have any food on you? that indicates it's time to go out and explore france.

unfastening up your suitcase, you drabble on what you can wear.

reconciling with a simple pair of denim shorts and a light pink tank top, you catch a fast mirror selfie.

being content with the ultimate product, you smile to yourself.

"phone, key, wallet," you whispered, securing the thoughts of having everything.

everything was arranged to go and it was time to tour paris.

third challenge

cruising through paris would be by notably the toughest challenge while you were here.

you had your phone to navigate solely with wifi and you couldn't be that favorable to be able to meet people who could speak english all the time.

you had entered a small restaurant, where you worked to communicate with people in defective french but they moderately understood what you wanted.

after that fiasco trying to order a chicken frricassee, you were able to appreciate your time there along with sending a picture to sunoo who reacted with,

"can that be the souvenir you bring back to me TT?"

you chuckled at the message, knowing typical sunoo, and finished up eating.

eating wasn't the one exclusive thing available in france. there were various activities but you were too afraid to venture any future for the hotel. getting lost too was easy.

that being said, eating after eating all you could do was roam around the city. it was around 2pm and you could spot a diverse crowd of people.

you could see kids. in uniforms that just got out of school or a cute couple that was experiencing their date.

you slightly squint and cover your eyes as the sun is at its highest point.

yes, paris was lovely and you would prefer to travel more but but you didn’ toriginally have a plan

for a couple of hours, you completed wandering around the area where your hotel is. you wished at moments like this that you would have jungwon, sunoo's friend, with you to help navigate you.

jungwon was also a friend you guys met in middle school but he went to your school. very mature for his age and great at preparation.

before you knew it, the sun had died down and it was time to retreat to the hotel.

'ah right! elena told me to look out at the eiffel tower as it gets darker'

you softly tread back to your hotel, observing the blisters at the back of your foot.

you could clearly sense the entire day of walking take a toll on your body.

you scan your key card and fling your bag to the floor as soon as you get inside. you open up your suitcase to change into suitable sleeping clothes.

you briskly cleansed your face and tied your hair back.

you had approached the balcony, guessing how to cautiously open the glass door.

you gradually shift the handle to the right and the door made a scanty creek. you gingerly put more stress on it, opening the balcony wide.

a distinct gasp could be heard from you.

subsequently taking a step onto your balcony, the frail breeze made you quiver in the long black tee that adorned your top half and the sweatpants that settled on your waist.

the balcony was small, barely able to move besides staying still.

you had peered to your right, glancing at the eiffel tower.

elena was correct. the eiffel tower was breath-taking at night. for the first time when landing in france, you could feel in harmony. below you was a crowded street.

it was only 8 pm yet you could feel your eyes droop as opposed to the bouncy pair of kids that ran through the moobs of people.

the radiant yellowish glow of the eiffel tower was able to save you from dozing off. you softly hum 'fly me to the moon,'

'fly me to the moon,' didn't have significance, it felt appropriate in the second.

you hadn't regarded it but a figure had gently peeked out of the other balcony, attentively listening to the silky melody that you were humming.

"nice song"

a voice interrupts and your humming had come to a halt, eyes widened.

you had turned to the origin of the voice and discovered the culprit

the balcony alongside you.

"thank you"

you glanced over, granting him a slight smile before he returns it.

"new to paris?"

he questioned, now you guys facing each other.

"yeah, just arrived this morning, and you?"

you asked before he softly smiles.

"not really, i've been here multiple times but the feeling is something i'll get used too."

you hum as a response

"how did you know to speak english to me? do i really act like a foriegner?"

you were growing more drowsy but this stranger was fascinating. who else could say they met someone and talked to them from a balcony romance?

"english song, random guess"

you nodded your head, not certain if he could see you but that was all you could muster up.

there grows stillness beside the bustling street below until the stranger breaks it.

"i know this sounds weird but since you're new here, would you like to go out with me tomorrow to travel the city?"

that question felt like ice water was just splashed onto your face. the proposal startled you.

the stranger didn't appear like a bad person. been to paris varied times, can acknowledge good music and good at conversation.

as much as this stranger flatter you, how could you trust him?

"as much as i would love to, how do i know that you're not trying to kidnap me, even worse, kill me?"

he stifles a laugh.

"hey knock it off, this is a very serious question, balcony boy"

you snicker, desiring to know the answer than anticipated.

"i promise you that i won't try to kidnap OR kill you. i'm just offering and you can even pat me down before we go out together."

this was by far one of the most peculiar offers you had received but this was THE stranger offer you came to france seeking.

you know sunoo would not advocate for numerous reasons and you can hear his voice already

"number one, dangerous"

"number two, dangerous!"

"number three, DANGEROUS!"

but sunoo isn't here right now. you chose to grab the opportunity. france had provided you luck today.

"alright then"

a moment of silence goes by before you hear him clearing his throat.

"you're serious right?"

he glances at you and your eyes lock. though you can't see that well due to the absence of light, you nod.

the eiffel tower gave you enough light that you could make our curious eyes, tall nose, fair skin that radiated in the soft lighting, and full lips that were curved into a smile

"i'll see you at the lobby at eight,"

next morning

to say you were nervous was an understatement, you were terrified. you agreed to a stranger who claimed to know paris like the back of his palm. you met him off your balcony and now you were agreeing to go a date with him?

"you must be out of your mind!" sunoo exclaimed through the phone.

"well yes i must have been at 8 pm last night when fatigue was hitting the hardest but how can i say no now?"

"i don't know maybe, I DON'T KNOW YOU STRANGER DANGER?" sunoo shouts

and like you foretold last night, sunoo was not a big supporter of this idea. over the course of fifteen minutes, you had been continuously scolded by him.

you cringe, " sunoo, i promise that i'll be fine. i just need you to help me pick out an outfit"

sunoo rolls his eyes, "what are your options?"

though sunoo wasn't supportive of this, he couldn't let you go on a date without style.

you held up two choices; a blue floral dress that settled to your mid-thigh and a pink tennis skirt with a white cami shirt.

"well do we like this guy or do we like LIKE this guy?" sunoo questioned.

"what- well i literally met him last night? so i don't even like him, we're just going out for this one day since he offered"

"uh-huh, then the blue floral dress, it's hot there right?" sunoo says

"super hot," you groan.

you glance at the time, 7:00 am.

"i have to start getting ready sunoo, i'll update you later alright?" you smile

"alright, try not to get killed but have fun too! love you"

"love you too," you say back before hanging up.

you quickly hop in the shower and make sure to not take too long.

doing skincare, putting on the outfit, and spraying a little bit of perfume, you are ready to head out the door.

one last check to make sure you have all the things.

7:58 am

you quickly head down to see several people in the lobby.

a bellman, a pair of teenage girls who seemed like they were dragged here, a couple around the mid-40s trying to check-in, and a teenage boy that rested on one of the lobby seats.

it was evident who the balcony boy was but you just called out to be safe.

"balcony boy," you say.

the teenage boy that was seated turns around before flashing you a smile.

"miss singer,"

you airly chuckle at the nickname.

observing him in person was a lot different. you could see his long body proportion, bright eyes, sharp jawline, with fair skin that complimented his rich brown hair.

a distinct experience from seeing him on the balcony.

"i'm (y/n)! and you?" you ask

"i'm lee heeseung"

63 notes · View notes

cotccotc · 4 years ago

Text

𝐥𝐞𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐡𝐨 ⚡︎ “𝒓𝒖𝒎𝒐𝒓 𝒉𝒂𝒔 𝒊𝒕”

☆ summary: rumors cause a rift between you and your boyfriend. can you find an answer before things get too intense?

❑ 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 { ☁️ anon ♥︎ }

☆ genre/s: angst, a bit of fluff, established relationship, high school!au, boyfriend!minho x reader, feat. best friend!hyunjin, bully!chan (I’M SORRY), + songwriter!changbin for like 2 secs

☆ warnings: swearing, mentions of anxiety, physical violence, blood, [ this isn’t really a warning but y/n is lowkey a bad*ss so… go u ], toxic masculinity...?

☆ one-shot, 4.5k words

☆ a/n: i hope y’all enjoy this one! especially you, lovely ☁️ anon <33 it’s a bit intense but who would i be if i didn’t get carried away?? (p.s. i’m sorry this took so long!)

☆ tags: @magglesx

｡･ﾟﾟ･ ⚡︎ ･ﾟﾟ･｡

minho had been distant for a few days and you couldn’t really tell why. as far as you knew, you hadn’t done anything to upset him. in fact, the week before, you planned your first date in a while and made sure it was extra special due to the busy school schedules that tended to keep you apart. of course, the date included going you paying for the meal at your shared favorite restaurant on the nicer side of town, as well as coming back to your house for some much needed cuddle time. he may not seem like it from the outside, but your boyfriend was a major cuddle bug.

yet, suddenly, you felt as though he was avoiding you.

your boyfriend was normally a little hesitant to flirt with you or initiate pda at school, which you completely understood. he had a pretty edgy image and was known as the sarcastic, rebellious friend in your friend group. therefore, he loved his intimidating demeanor and he did whatever he could to keep it up.

but this was different.

whenever you’d text him, he would take longer to reply and the texts would be drier than ever before. one word answers became the norm, with the occasional addition of an “lol”. and he completely stopped answering your calls. deciding to give him some space, you stopped trying.

even minho’s friends seemed to be avoiding you. for instance, you stumbled across changbin in the library during your free period one day. he was sitting on the floor in one of the back aisles of books, scrolling on his phone. you assumed he was hiding out there discreetly so as to not get caught on his phone. you sat beside him with a giggle.

“you know, i never pictured you as a bookworm,” you softly teased him. changbin let out a faint chuckle, not bothering to look you in the eye and instead concentrating on whatever he was working on. disregarding his odd reaction, you asked, “what’s so important you can’t wait until lunch to see it?”

“i’m writing,” he responded dryly. changbin was the most esteemed songwriter at your school. everyone knew he wrote songs for himself and other people, and whenever he was free, he’d be writing.

“...would you like to share any?” you asked, peeking at his screen. he normally wasn’t hesitant to share his lyrics and you always enjoyed hearing his poetic inner thoughts.

“um… not today.” he glanced up at you for a split second before going back to his phone. he even went so far as to tilt the screen away from you. at this point, you became hyperaware of the fact that you had done something wrong. was i being too nosy? you asked yourself. “sorry,” he continued.

you looked down at your lap, in which you awkwardly picked at the skin on your fingers. “it’s ok, i get it. i bet they’re great though,” you offered bleakly, trying to remain supportive of your friend despite how annoying you must have been. that was definitely not what you needed after beginning to feel your boyfriend drifting away from you. first minho, and now your friends?

“thanks,” changbin replied coldly. and with that the bell rang. you could have sworn changbin seemed thankful for the end of the period, as he picked up his bag and locked his phone as soon as the bell sounded. with a bleak wave and sideways glance, he was off. and there you were, sitting on the floor of the library, alone. and confused.

｡･ﾟﾟ･ ⚡︎ ･ﾟﾟ･｡

it was a chilly wednesday morning in november. the past few days had been a bit torturous without your boyfriend’s usual sneaky expressions of affection. you were in math class, seated cozily in the back of the classroom next to hyunjin, another mutual friend of yours and your boyfriend’s. the desks were arranged in pairs and you and hyunjin had no other friends in the class, which led to the two of you becoming close during the past few months. yet, you still hadn’t told him about what was troubling you. while the teacher was answering questions about your homework assignment from the night before, you decided to talk to hyunjin about minho.

“jinnie,” you whispered as your friend kept his head down, his brow furrowing at the problems on his page.

“not right now, y/n. i’m trying to work.” just like changbin the other day, hyunjin kept looking at the page in front of him with a sense of irritation.

you looked down at his paper and then at the problems scrawled across the blackboard at the front of the room. “but you got all of them right,” you countered.

“...okay, fine. what’s up?” he whispered back to you, finally looking you in the eye with an exasperated expression. now, hyunjin was a known drama king. he had his occasional grumpy moments, especially during your morning class, but he never looked at you with the expression he did in that moment. it was a mixture of irritation and passive aggression, as he attempted to keep a straight face.

disregarding hyunjin’s obvious shift in tone from other days, you decided to be straight forward and asked him, “has minho been acting off lately? he’s not responding to any of my messages and i barely see him in the halls anymore.”

“he’s…” hyunjin squinted a bit, feeling around in his mind for the right words to say. “he’s probably just going through something. give him some space for a little while.”

you chuckle, rolling your eyes. “that’ll be easy. he’s avoiding me like the plague.”

“really?”

you were surprised at hyunjin’s disbelief, as he was making it seem like he knew what was wrong with minho. “yes,” you said in what still felt like a whisper but really wasn’t.

“miss y/l/n,” your teacher reprimanded from the front of the room.

“my apologies,” you said bleakly with a hint of sarcasm. minho’s antics were really starting to get to your head. thankfully, your teacher disregarded your tone.

once the teacher resumed instruction, hyunjin turned back to you. “have you heard… the rumors?”

“what rumors?” you replied, quieter than before. “about me?”

he paused, confused. “you seriously haven’t heard?”

“hyunjin; you, minho, and the rest of the guys are my only friends. unless any of you told me, i know nothing.”

the blonde boy looked back down at his paper, still just as puzzled.

“what rumors are you talking about?”

slightly cutting you off, your teacher called your name once again, with more force.

soon thereafter, the bell rang and hyunjin left before you got the chance to question him further.

you couldn’t help but feel guilty. for what? you weren’t sure. but something bad was going on in your boyfriend’s life and you couldn’t do anything about it. and even his friends, who were equally as close to you, must have known what was bothering him.

so why couldn’t he confide in you?

a day passed and you were more sure than ever that everybody except hyunjin was avoiding you. what made things worse was whenever you’d pass minho in the halls and he’d shrug you off like he barely even knew you. he’d either become vague or walk away after giving you a short response. at this point, any and all forms of affection had become nonexistent.

whenever you entered a crowded hall, people you didn’t even know gave you odd looks. and, it would become more frequent whenever you were with minho. he’d always look around, observing their glances. that would always be his cue to leave.

in fact, even jeongin would swerve as soon as he saw you in the hallways. out of all the members of your friend group, he was the least likely to hold any sort of grudge, so you were troubled by his reaction to whatever secret drama there seemed to be.

if there was a rumor being spread about you, wouldn’t you deserve to know what it is? but then again, how would you confront anyone about it without sounding paranoid or narcissistic?

｡･ﾟﾟ･ ⚡︎ ･ﾟﾟ･｡

thursday came and went, leaving you with the final day of the school week. you had gotten used to the slight stares and whispers that surrounded you, despite your lingering confusion. school had ended twenty minutes ago, and you were waiting on a bench outside the school for your mom to pick you up. she was running late.

suddenly, the double doors opened up, revealing your boyfriend who walked alongside hyunjin. the two were laughing. it was honestly refreshing to see minho smile after not having seen him happy for a whole week. you caught the boys’ attention from a bit of a distance. minho waved at you, taking a deep breath. you waved and smiled back, trying to pretend everything was fine. that was until he turned around, gesturing for hyunjin to follow him in the opposite direction. your mood and expression instantly dropped.

but then, hyunjin paused, playfully punching minho’s arm and pointing in your direction. you couldn’t tell what they were saying, but you were incredibly grateful for hyunjin’s actions as minho refocused his path to you. as the two parted ways, you and hyunjin exchanged a wave.

at least someone had your back.

your boyfriend approached you. he chose not to sit down, opting instead to simply place his bag next to yours on the bench. he squinted at the sun, which poked out from the other side of the building. “hey.”

“hi…”

you were sick of playing games. you wanted answers.

“what’s wrong, minho?”

“...what? what are you talking about?” he bluffed, his hands clasped behind his back.

“come on. i know there’s something that’s been bothering you. you’ve been avoiding me all week.”

he adjusted his sweatshirt, placed his hands in his pockets. staring off into the distance, he questioned, “why’d you do it?”.

huh?

“what?” you asked in response. maybe this had something to do with his sudden coldness toward you. however, in disbelief from minho’s current emotional state, you maintained an innocent, slightly scared demeanor.

“why’d you tell everybody i’m a sap?”

“what the hell are you talking about?” you raised your voice a bit, beginning to get upset at minho’s accusation.

“that i make you get the bill at every restaurant, that i’d get lost if i wasn’t holding your hand…” at this point, he was counting on his fingers. you were getting more and more anxious by the second. so this is the rumor hyunjin was talking about…

you were so shocked. you looked away from him for a second, trying to process everything. your stomach was doing flips. you didn’t know whether to apologize immediately regardless of your innocence, try to explain your uninvolvement in this, or simply stay silent.

“don’t play dumb with me,” he remarked. “i know it was you.”

this was the most stern he’d ever been with you. especially while alone together. he furrowed his brow, his eyes staring into yours with intensity. you could tell he was angry, but you didn’t know at what.

your eyes dart back up into his. this time, it was your expression that scared him. you never usually got very frustrated with him, as this was your first time having a major communication issue with each other. this feeling was as new to him as it was to you.

but that didn’t matter in that moment.

you got up from your seat and took a step toward your boyfriend. despite your initial fear, that comment was the last straw. all of the emotions you’d suppressed throughout the week came to a head as you stood up for yourself.

“i’m not fucking dumb, nor do i claim to be. for your information, i had no idea a rumor was spreading about you until hyunjin told me. i also didn’t know what it was about until you told me just now. so next time, be upfront about your feelings before you make any assumptions about me.” you paused for a second, unclenching the fists that you hadn’t even realized you were clenching in the first place.

minho was shocked. rightfully so. that was the most riled up he’d ever seen you. he felt so terrible, having ignored you for nothing. how could he have doubted you? what could have driven you to say such stupid, petty stuff about him? you loved him. you always did. but he was too blinded by his ego to see it.

tears rose to your eyes once you finally released the extent of your aggression. you attempted to blink them away, but when you couldn’t, you let out an involuntary “i’m sorry.” you were barely able to use your full voice as tears began dripping down from your eyes and onto your cheeks.

minho wrapped his arms around your shoulders, pulling you in tight. his expression softened. “...don’t be. this was all my fault. i’m an asshole.” he used one hand to stroke your hair as he spoke with urgency. he felt you shaking beneath him, causing tears to poke at his own eyes as you released yours.

while pressed up against him and sobbing quietly into the fabric of his black crewneck, you wrapped your arms around his waist, settling into his embrace. “no you’re not,” you muttered in between sniffles. “you didn’t know.”

“but i should have.” he released you from his hold and places his hands on your shoulders. “this could’ve been taken care of a week ago if i just talked to you about it instead of being a dick.”

you took a deep breath as your face began to cool down a bit. “you were being a dick…” you joked (although, it was justified). he laughed a bit at your comment, but he was still very serious about this.

“you don’t have to forgive me right away, or ever. i know i can’t forgive myself for making you feel like that.” it was then that you realized he was on the verge of crying just as you had been. “ugh! and that comment i made earlier! fuck-” a single tear fell from one of his pitch dark eyes and onto his cheek, cutting him off as he was about to continue. he looked away, trying to collect himself.

“let it out,” you advised, reaching your hand up to wipe away the tear. he looked back at you with pursed lips, other tears evident in his eyes. “there’s no point trying to salvage a bad boy image when it’s just you and me.” you smiled, trying to lighten the mood a bit so you can talk without becoming too emotional. but that seemed impossible.

“you’re right. i shouldn’t care so much.” he began stroking your hair again. you close your stinging eyes and let him. after a pause, however, he grabs your attention again. “i’m gonna find out who started the rumor.” his voice lowered as the anger began bubbling up inside him once again.

“minho, don’t worry about it. it’ll pass.” you unwrap your hands from his waist and reposition them around his neck, drawing his forehead closer to yours. you rub the nape of his neck with your fingertips, lightly combing through his jet black hair.

suddenly, you both became startled as you heard the faint sound of laughter, as well as the sound of a car pulling up behind you. minho turned around and you peeked out to the side. a group of boys sat inside a black mini van, parked along the curb in front of the sidewalk on which you stood. they were all laughing.

“is baby having a fit?” said chan, one of the popular boys in your grade, from the passenger seat. he was referring to minho.

chan was always up to no good, and you usually tried to steer clear of him and his friends in the halls. it immediately clicked in yours and minho’s mind that he must have been behind all of this drama. then, you realized how enraged minho must have been feeling and grabbed onto his sweatshirt sleeve for protection.

“so it was you,” minho said to chan. he sounded almost too calm.

walking toward your boyfriend with his hands behind his back, chan replied, “word travels fast when you find out someone’s not who he says he is. oh! y/n, that reminds me,” the smile on chan’s face was almost sickening to you as he shifted his attention to you. “my aunt’s looking for a babysitter. based on your resume,” he gestured to minho, “you seem like the perfect fit.”

before you could even react, minho turned around and removed your hand from his sleeve, giving it a quick kiss. “give me a minute, yeah?”

and with that, he spun back toward chan and swung a fist at his face with a loud grunt. you gasped, covering your mouth. chan stumbled slightly to the side, covering the side of his lip with his hand. when he rose again and uncovered it, you could see a patch of blood at the corner of his mouth. he wiped it away with a smirk.

“y/n, get inside, now,” minho demanded, still facing chan. he tried not to be too forceful, but this was important. he couldn’t risk you getting hurt even more than what he had caused.

you were at a loss for words. it was like you were frozen, unable to think of what to do or say or who to call. your feet remained planted on the ground as your heart raced with an intensity you’d never felt before. you could almost hear it.

chan laughed again, only this time it was laced with anger. “why would she listen to you? we all know you don’t call the shots.” you could hear chan’s friends reacting the whole time. ‘oohs’ and ‘ahs’, laughter and snarky remarks.

that was the last straw for minho. he swung his fist back at chan’s face, except chan was able to catch it before it hit him. he pushed minho back, almost bumping into you. you were still unable to move, your mouth agape. you were absolutely horrified, and you couldn’t tell whether it was because your boyfriend started a fight or because he was in danger of getting hurt.

minho caught his balance, lunging toward chan again, his fist once again outstretched. this time, he missed, giving chan just enough time to thrust his own fist directly out at minho’s stomach. your boyfriend let out an audible expression of pain, squeezing his arms tightly around himself. to make matters worse, chan wasn’t done. he used the same fist to hit minho with an uppercut to the nose. minho fell to the ground, just missing where you stood. he landed on his palms, droplets of crimson liquid dripping from his nose onto the pavement. you called out his name, finally breaking out of your frozen state to drop to the ground and cradle your boyfriend’s upper body in your arms.

the sight was astounding, to say the least. tears lingered in and around minho’s deep, weary eyes as they looked up into yours. however, you were too concentrated on his afflictions to notice the love and guilt emanating from his gaze. his lip quivered, scarlet blood trickling down onto it. disregarding the damage it might do, you used the sleeve of your sweater to wipe some away. your vision was blurry due to the hot tears prickling through to the surface of your eyes.

chan chuckled once again, his laugh ringing in your ears. “that’s what i thought.” the turned around, blotting the blood on his lip and being commended by his idiot friends. as you watched chan begin making his exit toward the car, minho tugged on your sleeve. you glanced back down at him through hazy eyes. he placed his index finger to his lips, making a silent ‘shh’ face. he then slipped out of your grasp, using his stinging palms to guide himself off of the ground and stand up. he lunged at chan again.

minho grabbed chan’s left arm, swinging it behind his back and holding his shoulder down. the pressure he applied left chan’s arm feeling as though it could snap at any moment. he rithed and pleaded for minho to stop, but he didn’t. chan’s friends fell silent, but - similarly to you - they were too stunned and cowardly to break up the fight.

“look, pretty boy,” minho growled. “you can tell your friends whatever the fuck you want about me, alright? but what goes on between me and my girlfriend is none of your business. understood?”

in between groans and tugs, chan replied, “y-yes… ah… let me… g-go!”

“not until you tell me how it all started.” after chan neglected to respond, your boyfriend tightened his grip on chan’s arm, bringing it even closer to breaking. “hm?” he teased, a smirk pulling at the ends of his lips as he could feel chan beginning to comply.

“i saw you- fuck… at the restaurant…” minho was confused, until he remembered you insisting on paying the bill on your last date. “she paid for you… what a… gentlewoman- shit!” even when under extreme conditions, he still couldn’t give it a rest.

mercy had completely left minho’s eyes as he yanked on chan’s arm once more, releasing a cry from the helpless troublemaker.

however, that’s when you heard a teacher call out to them from the school’s entrance. “boys!” she exclaimed, beginning to approach the scene. “break it up!”

everyone, minho included, immediately shifted their gaze to the woman. chan was then able to break free from minho’s hold, rushing back into the car where he initially arrived. as the driver hit the gas and quickly directed the car out of the parking lot, minho shot his eyes at you. you swiftly grabbed your bags, and then his hand.

and then, you ran.

｡･ﾟﾟ･ ⚡︎ ･ﾟﾟ･｡

you were finally in the clear. after bending around a curve and re-entering the school, the two of you stopped running. you placed your hands on your knees, dropping the backpacks and panting as you both attempted to catch your breath. you had arrived down the hall from the boys’ bathroom. once you could properly regain a proper breathing pattern, you stood upright and examined your boyfriend. just as you both noticed a bloody rip at the knee his once perfect jeans, he began walking toward the bathroom to clean himself up. however, he couldn’t make it too far. his leg was sore from the impact of his fall, and the scrape and running sure didn’t help. he limped a bit, but you grabbed his arm and stopped him. placing it over your shoulder and wrapping your other arm around his waist, you guided him into the bathroom. once you entered, you had him sit on one of the sinks while you gathered supplies to clean his cuts.

“i’m gonna get in so much trouble,” he finally said. he spoke softly, due in part by the pain he was experiencing as well as his ongoing guilt.

“you didn’t have to start a fight,” you muttered, half disappointed but half sympathetic. you always knew he had an edge, but you never imagined you’d see him in a physical altercation. you never looked him in the eye, instead focusing on grabbing a piece of paper towel and turning on one of the faucets.

“like i said, you don’t have to forgive me. especially now- ah, shit.” you accidentally cut him off once you guided his left hand under the running water and started dabbing it with the towel.

you considered his words for a moment as he adjusted to the sensation of the warm liquid on his small cuts. furrowing your brow, you responded, “i don’t think i can yet. it’s too soon.”

“i understand.” he paused, solemnly. “thank you for taking care of me, though.”

“it’s only a bit of cleaning. anyone could’ve done it-”

“no.” he cut you off this time. “thank you for always taking care of me. you’re always there for me, even when i’m not around to reciprocate. you don’t deserve this. i was a shitty boyfriend…”

your eyes darted up to meet his. “was?”

“...well… that’s what you want… right?”

you turned off the faucet, still staring intensely into minho’s eyes. he appeared to be just as perplexed as you were.

“is that what you want?” your hands began shaking as you attempted to mask the anxiety that simmered inside of you. he was the one who was technically in the wrong, but you couldn’t deny the fact that he completed you. having a taste of what it was like to be without him made you realize more than ever that you needed him. you wholeheartedly believed that you could get through this with time... however, what if he had ulterior motives?

his eyes widened. “no! not at all.” his eyes briefly glanced at your hands. he could see the stress he was putting you through and he grabbed your hands, enveloping them in his. “i just figured that’s what you would want. you deserve so much more than…” he let go, staring at his bruised knuckles and the scrapes on his palms. “...this.”

you let his words sink in for a bit. “you know i don’t try to coddle you or anything, right?”

“i know. i’m so pissed at myself for letting all those rumors get to my head. even if those things were true, they wouldn’t be a problem… but i know that now.”

“it only took a few cuts and bruises,” you remarked. “look… i can’t say i’m not upset, but i’m willing to try and work things out… as long as you promise never to fight anyone like that ever again. you scared the shit out of me.”

“yeah… things got a little out of hand.” he used his free hand caress your jaw, stopping at your chin to tilt it up toward him. “i promise.” he pursed his soft, rosy lips before stroking your hair and kissing the crown of your head. you smiled at each other with a newfound sense of closeness.

you continued cleaning up his scrapes until there was no more dripping blood. his nose was definitely going to need a bit of recovery, however you made him promise he’d let your mom take him to the hospital when she arrived at the school; and, he obliged.

you exited the bathroom to reveal the same teacher who attempted to break up the fight. she held minho’s bag. next to her stood the principal, who held yours.

minho was soon to follow you, discarding the rest of the paper towels in the trash. once he caught up to you, he glanced up to discover the same sight. he swallowed hard, his eyes growing wide. he looked down at you, and you at him. your heart was beating uncontrollably.

that is… until minho grabbed your hand, interlocking it with his. suddenly, despite impending doom, everything seemed okay.

and rumor has it, everything would be alright as long as you stuck together.

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solreefs · 3 years ago

Text

Still Rivals, Right?

A math competition, two competitors, and the library where it all starts…

Sophie Foster and Fitz Vacker are definitely rivals. They vie for the top spot in every class, and they constantly try to outdo each other. But they don’t actually know each other very well.

Words: 963

Warnings: Pressure (again, mostly self imposed), nerves, something that might constitute an anxiety attack (I wrote it from my own experiences and I’m not quite sure what the right term is), and mentions of food (a conversation takes place while characters are eating lunch).

Chapter summary: Math isn’t the only subject on Sophie’s mind.

Notes: Hey, it’s somewhat longer! Also, sorry this update took a while. I’ve been a little busy, and my adhd brain hasn’t really been a fan of cooperating.

Tagging: @steppingonshatteredglass, @stardustanddaffodils, @completekeefitztrash, @dragonwinnie-kotlc

read on ao3

“Guess who I saw at the library yesterday,” Sophie said to Marella at lunch the next day.

“Who?”

“Fitz. I didn’t even know he lived close enough to know where it was, let alone work there.”

Marella made a dismissive gesture. “I’ve been to his house, it’s only about ten minutes away from yours- wait, did you say they worked at the library?”

“Yeah.” Sophie took a bite of faer sandwich. “Well, technically, they’re an intern.”

“Huh.” Marella twisted a strand of hair around their finger. “He never seemed like the type to intern at a library.”

“I don’t know about that,” Sophie said. “They seemed to like it, and have you ever actually had a real conversation with them?”

“It’s not like you have, either.”

“Actually, we talked yesterday.”

“And how was it, finally speaking with your greatest rival?”

“Awkward, mainly,” Sophie admitted, and Marella laughed.

“Hi, Sophie! Hi, Marella!” Jensi ran up to the two of them. “Where’s Dex?”

“Over here,” Dex said, walking up to join them. “Ready to present our chemistry project, Sophie?”

“No.”

Jensi laughed. “Yeah, good luck.”

Sophie rolled her eyes. “Thanks. Dex, did you bring your notecards?”

“Yeah, they’re in my pocket. What about you?”

“I have mine.”

Dex shrugged. “Well, we’ve got everything, then.”

“Except confidence,” Marella said, and Jensi elbowed them.

“You’ll do great,” he told Sophie.

Fae set down faer sandwich, suddenly much less hungry. “I hope so.”

“You will,” Marella assured her. “You’re the smartest one here.”

“Hey!”

“Sorry, Dex.”

Dex rolled xyr eyes. “Honestly, the things I put up with.”

Marella poked at the pasta in their thermos. “You know you love us.”

Lunch flew by, and before Sophie knew it, it was time for chemistry. She and Dex were up third. Two students she still hadn’t learned the names of went first, and rather than taking notes on their presentation, she read and reread her notecards, mouthing the words to herself.

“Thank you, Auren and Lexi,” Professor Galvin said. “Maruca and Biana, you’re up.”

As Biana and Maruca began their presentation, Dex leaned over to Sophie. “Hey. Relax. We’ll do fine.”

Sophie nodded and tried to believe xem. It would be okay. Fae was passing all of faer other classes with flying colors, and fae was even doing well in chemistry. One presentation wouldn’t ruin faer grades.

Right?

“Very good,” Professor Galvin once Biana and Maruca had finished. “Dex and Sophie?”

Dry-mouthed, Sophie got to her feet and picked up her notecards. She walked to the front of the room, and Dex brought the cardboard trifold with the results of their lab up to the table at the front of the classroom. Sophie’s job was easy. She just needed to explain how the formulas they had been taught fit into the experiment. Dex would explain the experiment itself.

Dex began xyr explanation of the lab report, but Sophie barely heard xem. Fae hated presentations.

Dex stopped talking. All eyes were on her.

There were less than twenty people in the classroom, but it suddenly felt like hundreds. Sophie’s eyes scanned over the faces of faer classmates- and came to rest on Biana Vacker.

Ae met her eyes and mouthed something.

Sophie frowned.

Biana’s lips moved again, and this time Sophie could make out the words. Breathe, Sophie.

Sophie hadn’t even realized fae wasn’t. Fae inhaled too quickly, and nearly choked, but the movement broke the spell. Sophie gave Biana a weak smile, and launched into faer explanation of the math formulas.

Sophie tried to follow Biana after class, but ae walked fast, and was soon lost in the crowd of students. “Biana, Biana, wait, I-” Ae was gone. Sophie sighed. “Damn.”

Jensi gave her a curious look. “What do you need Biana for? Did something bad happen- wait, or something really good, and you just need to tell everyone- but that doesn’t make sense because you never really talk to Biana, so if anything happened- good or bad- you’d tell me or Marella or Dex first- and where’s Marella? I need to ask them about those sparkly pens they borrowed from me.”

Sophie raised faer eyebrows. “I don’t know where Marella is, and I’m trying to talk to Biana because ae helped me out in chemistry and I wanted to say thanks.”

“Figures,” Jensi said unhappily. “They disappear right when I need those pens back.”

Sophie shoved her textbooks back in her locker and slammed the metal door shut. “Well, I’m going to Marella’s house tomorrow, so I can ask them about your pens then.”

“Thanks.” Jensi closed his own locker and slung his backpack over one shoulder. “I’ll try texting them, but they take forever to reply.” “Who does?” Marella asked, and Sophie and Jensi both jumped. Marella laughed. “Didn’t see me?”

“No,” Sophie gasped, “we didn’t.”

“Well, here I am. Jensi, I left your pens at my house, by the way.” Jensi rolled his eyes. “Of course you did.”

The three of them caught up with Dex on their way out of the school, and then went their separate ways, Marella and Jensi to the buses, and Sophie and Dex to walk home.

Dex and Sophie didn’t talk much, instead walking next to each other while lost in their own thoughts, until Sophie said, “How do you think we did on our chemistry project?”

Dex shrugged. “Fine.”

Sophie kicked at a small pile of leaves on the sidewalk. “Just “fine”?”

“I don’t know, I’m not the one grading us.” Xe smiled at faer. “But if you’re asking how you did, you did great.”

“I hope so.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Dex said. “See you Monday,” xe added, turning onto xyr street.

“See you Monday,” Sophie echoed, suddenly feeling a bit lonely without xem walking next to her.

#kotlc #kotlc fanfiction #my writing #Arin writes #sophitz #sophie foster #marella redek #biana vacker #dex dizznee #jensi babblos #xe/xem dex anyone?#also they/them marella #reblogs > likes

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blizzardfluffykpop · 4 years ago

Text

M&M’s

Summary: Need a tutor? Well, you’ve come to the right school, we have just the one for you. And he’s attractive too.

Do or Not Series

Fluff

Word Count: 2,346

Hongseok X Reader

Of all my time at school, I never thought I would need tutoring. I was an A+ student when I started failing my classes. My grades were in the trash, and I had no idea how to improve or even raise them. How do you even study? Why is college structured like this? UGH! So now here I am sitting in the Dean’s office listening to them preach about how I need to learn from this person to pass. That they won’t hold it against me if I pass because of this tutor. All I have to do is pass the exams, and if I pass. I will move up to the Sophomore year. How am I supposed to pass a class that I’m not participating? And who is this person they are setting me up with? As if to answer my question, they say, “He should be here any moment.”

Like on queue, the door opens to reveal a rather attractive guy. They expect me to be able to study next to him? Oh god, I am so screwed, even worse than I was before. Okay, (Y/n), put your game face on and act like he does not affect you. “This is your tutor, Hongseok, and Hongseok this is (Y/n). I think you two will do well together.” We exchange a polite ‘hello’. Then the Dean tells him what the expectations are for the both of us. And I cannot help but feel my anxiety spike at each time he mentions ‘study’, ‘quiz’, and ‘pass’. What happened to cruising through school? Why is it no longer easy to pass? What did I miss when I was younger?

I was missing the old school structure. That I was memorizing what they said to forget it later. Because back then, as long as I knew the basics, I could pass. It wasn't like those classes were hard either. They repeated the same things over and over. So it was easy to remember, Hongseok had explained to me at our first meeting in the library. He wanted to know why I was failing and what made me remember best. I shrugged and said, 'probably repetition and listening' I wasn't sure, but that was the best guess I had. I never thought of ways to study because I never needed to beforehand. He grinned, “I know you wouldn’t believe it, but my first year here, I didn’t study. I didn’t know how or what worked for me or how I even learned. It took me to the last semester to realize what it was. Once it clicked, it was too late, and I barely passed my exams. To make up for me failing everything else, they asked me to tutor someone.” While I couldn’t believe my ears, something in my gut told me he wasn’t lying. Thus I decided that he was my best bet to make it into my sophomore year.

The following Wednesday, we are stuck inside the library again. When we get settled in our seats, he pulls out two packages of m&m’s. “What are those for?” I ask, and he shrugs and says, “You’ll see.” I pull out my books, a pencil, and a notebook. I’m worried he will look down on me for not having any past homework or past tests. But I threw them all out in exhaustion and frustration. I couldn’t deal with that massive amount of failure. But rather than saying anything, he pulls out some flashcards and a calculator. “Let’s start with math.”

Every time I got a question right, he gave me an m&m. My stomach growled at me every time I would get something wrong and lose out on an m&m. Not that I couldn’t reach in and get one, but the m&m's are rewards for whenever I get something right. Plus, he would give me his charming smile every time I got something correct, so I strived to get them correct.

It wasn’t until we finished math and science and we were walking out together. That I noticed, he was catering to the way I learned. Repeating steps with me or asking me the questions out loud and going through the steps with me. Whether it be an example or how to fix my mistakes, my heart skips a beat as he asks to walk me home.

"So, do you like university other than this?" I shrug, "It could be better, but generally I like it. Everyone I met is kind, like my roommates Changgu and Yanan. Like you're kind and sweet, I wanna thank you for helping me out." He grins, "You're helping me out too. I don't think either of us wishes to repeat Freshman year." I laugh and agree, "What about you? Do you like it here?" He shrugs, "It's okay. I don't have a roommate, but I have quite a few friends. So it helps, plus once you know how to study, it makes it so much easier." I laugh, "Yeah,... if I ever get to that point." When we reach my dormitory I tell him, "This is my stop." As I head inside, he yells, “I’ll see you this Sunday for History and [Subject].” I yell back my agreement and walk up the stairs to my room. I thought this would drag and not want to show up. But he makes me look forward to studying with him. Throwing my finished m&m bag away, I walk to my dorm with a proud smile on my face.

Like clockwork every Wednesday and Sunday, I spend the whole afternoon studying. And he would ask me to study for little quizzes that he would give me on Thursdays. They are over everything we have ever been over together. With each test I passed, my confidence grew, and so did my feelings.

Out of all the days that I spend with him, Thursdays have to be the hardest. With each test, I take the harder they become. I feel like my soul almost leaves my body every time he grades them. How his face turns up in cute ways, trying to figure out my process. Or when I get something right, he sends me a beautiful smile or his pout when I miss a question. His faces make my heart flutter while my stomach wants to throw up from fear of failure. Between the two, I can never seem to stomach Thursdays.

While I have learned my study pattern, I still have to pass this course with him or I fail. While I’m taking a quiz, three Thursdays before my exam, he tells me. “I can already tell you that you are going to succeed with flying colors. So if you fail this quiz, take it with a grain of salt. You have to fail sometimes to succeed.” The first page was easy I knew all the answers without a problem. I rushed through them, and the next page was a little harder. When I got to the eighth page, I was starting to question whether I was studying. What does the eighth number of pi have anything to do with this course? I wish to cry as I take my best guess, which is all I can do when I reach the tenth page. I sigh in relief, it’s the last page it can’t be that hard, can it? Oh, yes, yes it can. “If you take the 4th number of the last answer. [Which I am positive I did not get right, considering that I only gave a two-digit answer to the last question]. Exponentially expand it by twenty-two. What is the number you get?” And that is the first part of the ten parted question. My brain craves a nap and a family-size bag of m&m’s.

By the time I finish the last page, I am running on one brain cell. That is running around, throwing all the files in my brain into a shredder, and giving up. How did I not know a single answer after the third page? His face is in a pout after the second page, and my heart breaks. I don’t want him to disappoint him. I should study harder to make him proud of me. I groan internally, this is going worse than I expected. “Out of thirty questions, you got seven right!” He says in a cheery tone, and my heart falls out of my body, and my soul has ascended.

“Remember what I said when you started taking the test?” I rack my brain for answers and find nothing. I shake my head 'no', and he pouts, “Aw,... Well, I said take it with a grain of salt. Maybe some quizzes are made impossible.” My jaw drops, “You did that on purpose--!” He shrugs, “Did I?” He makes me rethink what I said, and I pout and cross my arms over my chest. He hands me a pack of m&m’s, “Maybe study harder.” He winks, and I push him to the side when we get up to leave the building. “You know you passed the hardest question on the quiz, right?” My eyes nearly pop out of my head, “What?” He grins, “None of your work made sense, but in the end, you answered four on the last question, and that was the right answer.” I smile, “Sometimes taking your best guess works. Also, four happens to be the professor's favorite number, so if you aren’t sure, guess that.” My jaw drops open again as he ruffles my hair, “You did pretty well, (Y/n).” I brighten at his words and hug him. “I promise to study hard! Two more quizzes before the final test!” He laughs and hugs me back telling me, “You got this!”

It wasn’t until the last study session that I realized how much I would miss Hongseok’s presence. It hit me like a ton of bricks, and when I got to my room, I was bawling. I wanted to see him more. I wanted to be around him and get to know him more. It took me a few moments, but I realized I fell for my tutor. How could I not? When I had a tutor like Hongseok,... Based on all calculations, I have a crush on him. I wonder if he likes me back, but there is only one way to know. Do I have enough courage for that? I’m not sure. I sigh and wipe my tears, saving them for a less important day. I need to study and pass these four exams.

I spend hours studying for tomorrow, although I know my study method. It did not make studying any less boring. I missed Hongseok, who would crack a joke or grab us a snack. He made this so much easier studying five hours with him felt like two. Ugh, now five hours of studying feels like fifteen. At the sixth hour, I call it a day and pull the covers over my head, and dream of failing the exams.

When my alarm clock finally rings, I’m happy to be up and away from those horrid dreams. With a brave face, I get ready for my exam day. I check my phone and see it’s Hongseok. He texted me, “Good luck on your exams! Fighting! You got this!” I smile and text him back, ‘thank you'. I got this, I keep reiterating to myself, but I can’t help but hear the doubtful voice in the back of my head. I am taking all my exams in one instance. So that means five hours of taking four different tests. While I know all the study sessions were preparing me for this moment, I want it to be over and done with already.

Of course, none of the tests were easy they each pulled at my wit's end. I sit there for another thirty minutes waiting for them to grade my tests. Preparing myself for the worst news, I think about Hongseok’s encouragement. If he thinks I’ll pass, maybe he’s right. If it wasn’t just my grades on the line, I wouldn’t care as much. But when it comes to Hongseok, my heart is grasping at the hope that I made it above passing.

The professor looks up at me as I turn a page in my book. I set it down with a bookmark. They smile at me, “Your lowest is an 87,” I gulp, no way, “Your highest is a 99.” My brain is no longer processing words as I rush out of my seat to see my results. “Congratulations, (Y/n). You passed with flying colors.” I smile and shake their hand, thanking them, and skip out of the building. I passed. I really passed! Is this real? I'm not dreaming again, right? I pinch myself and let out a small ‘ouch’ definitely real. I skip out of the building and see someone wearing a blue sweatshirt sitting on the fountain. As I come up closer, I recognize them as Hongseok. I run up to him and hug him. He whispers, “Did you pass?” And I shake my head 'yes'. He runs his hands through my hair, “I knew you would! I’m so proud of you.” Hearing him say that my heart pounds, “Um, Hongseok,...” I pull away from him a bit, my arms still wrapped around him. He nods for me to continue, “Would you maybe,... possibly want to go on a date with me?” He smiles, “I was gonna ask you that!” We both laugh as he hands me a family-size pack of m&m's for us to share. We head over to my dorm, and that is the start of our new beginning.

While we still study together, you can find us lying on the floor while watching the tv and throwing m&m's at each other. Making different kinds of foods together, making an even bigger mess in the kitchen. So yeah, if given the opportunity, I would fail my classes all over again. If it meant I got to meet Hongseok.

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