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retvenkos · 3 years

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“would it be terribly cheesy if i said ‘it was always you’?”

requested by @biqherosix STRAP IN, FOLKS, BECAUSE TODAY WE ARE TAKING A LOOK AT WHAT IT WOULD BE LIKE FOR EJ CASWELL TO HAVE A CRUSH ON A NORTH HIGH STUDENT...

so first of all, you and ej knew each other long before you ran into each other in high school. because, you see, you went to junior high together, and in those days, both you and ej were on dance company

(you can pry dance company! ej from my cold, dead fingers)

you were arguably the better dancer, and seventh grade ej really wanted to prove himself. a baby competition sprouted between the two of you, but it was nothing big.

you both liked to show off in order to taunt the other, and you both got a kick out of trying to one up each other.

but at the same time, you were teammates. you did everything together.

so the bond between you and ej was strong. it was a competition, yes, but it was friendly competition and you both actually hyped each other a lot.

plus, dance company does a lot of things as a group, so it was unavoidable. you were going to end up liking each other at some point. luckily, it happened sooner rather than later, and the two of you built up a nice rapport with one another - a closeness forged in friendly competition and last minute studying parties.

but all that changed when you went to north high and ej went to east high

now, since north high is completely fictional, i get to create the dynamic between the schools, so listen up everyone!

north high clearly has the better arts department, and they also have the better tennis and softball team.

east high has the better stem department as well as a better swim team and any other swim related sports.

west high has the better sport teams overall - basketball, football, volleyball, etc.

(that's why we never see any uber jocks at east high—)

now, clearly you have your boundary school, but people get on special permit all the time, and when you say you’re going to north high ej is like ???? but why ???

“they have a better arts department, ej, you know that!”

“well, yeah, but east high is the best. we always said we were going to be wildcats!”

“ej.... they’re actually leopards.”

it wasn’t a super emotional goodbye. you promised to stay in touch, and it wasn’t like it was hard. you still saw each other around the mall, you still followed each other on instagram and what not but.... time just got between you.

you slowly stop texting, you see each other less, when you see each other in public you do that thing where you give a smile but then don’t go over to say hi, because you’re wrapped up in other people. it’s not pointed things, you just... stop talking.

and you still like each others photos on instagram but you’re just... there.

all of that changes, however, when carlos asks you to help him choreograph hsm.

at the time, the rivalry between schools wasn’t big, it was just a low simmer, and the reason carlos approached you was because once upon a time, you, ej, and him had all been in dance company together for one (1) year (it all comes full cIRCLE) and for one of your performances, you had done something hsm related.

carlos wanted to know if you remembered the routine and could help him come up with something slightly more advanced.

and while you and carlos hadn’t really kept up with one another, he jokingly brought up a time where he did something for you, and how you always said you’d pay him back one day and maybe now it was time to cash it in??

you decided why not? you’ve done a lot of stuff for north high’s dance company, but you’ve never helped out in a musical before (and as you can imagine, north high is very competitive in their arts)

so you joined the hsm cast as co-choreographer.

now, because you had your own north high dance company stuff to deal with, you end up missing a lot of rehearsals. you mostly brainstorm with carlos and add tweaks to the choreo. carlos is the one to really ~teach~ things.

which means that while you are present for ~the drama~ that was ej-nini-ricky, you actually miss a lot of it. you feel the tension, but exactly why it’s Like That is beyond you.

you tried to ask carlos once but he said he wasn’t going to get into that, thank you.

and honestly, you have competitions to keep up with, so you’re not fixated on it. you’re just hoping that they’re not still pissed at each other on opening night, when ej has to strap ricky in for “getcha head in the game”

and while you’ve chatted with ej a couple of times, you haven’t had much time to catch up.

you actually bond a lot with gina, who is on the same level as you in terms of dance. you end up talking and mention how ej was once on dance company, and that rocks her world because ej???

and that’s when you show her all of the old videos you archived on your instagram from your junior high days. carlos, ej, and you all in dance company. they’re precious.

and when ej’s friendships are strained and he doesn’t have anyone to turn to, he sees you and gina laughing and crowding over your phone, and he comes to say hi.

and thus, the friendship begins again.

it is, of course, slow going because so much time has come between you, and gina and carlos (the two you hang with the most) are not on great terms with ej, but you guys grow really close all over again. ej is glad to have another senior to talk to about college, and you’re glad you have an old friend to talk to because it’s easy to feel out of place in this school that isn’t yours.

and on opening night, you know ej gifts you something - maybe it’s a jacket or beanie with the wildcats emblem on it.

“it’s kinda stupid, but we always said we were going to be wildcats together, and we did it.”

“huh, i guess we did.”

and for some reason, you chest is really warm, and you can feel the heat sneak up to your cheeks.

“this is really sweet, ej.”

“well, you know me.”

“yeah, i guess i do.”

and then it’s his cue to get ready to go on stage.

“oh! and there should be another surprise coming, don’t hate me for not telling you!”

and you’re ??? but it turns out to be gina.

you all clearly go to denny's afterward to celebrate, and if ej feels his heart seize in his chest everytime you laugh or steal one of gina’s fries, it’s not an unfamiliar feeling. because really, it had always been like that, with you. you never cease to amaze him.

and once you’re on the east high theatre group chat, you never get taken off of it, so you know everything that’s going on with your theatre buddies, after hsm has finished.

and this is where a conflict of interest really comes in...

because, you see, once hsm is a hit, some of the theatre kids at north high think you’re a traitor. you gave east high their secrets, and now east high is an actual contender. uncool, (y/n).

so you kind of get iced out by a lot of north high kids. like i said. competition there is s t e e p and you’ve been accused of fraternizing with the enemy..

but when zach roy shows up and he hears about the drama surrounding one (y/n) (l/n), he gets an idea... so he approaches you one day after dance company practice...

“he asked you to do wHAT?”

you’re texting ej, carlos, and gina in a group chat

“he asked me to co-choreograph their show.”

“are you going to do it?” - carlos

“of course they are! do you think opportunities like this just fall out of the sky?” - gina

“i don’t know, though, i feel like he’s working some angle with me. there’s something about him that doesn’t feel genuine.”

“it’s those piercing blue eyes.” - carlos

“i have piercing blue eyes!”

“and you’ve never done anything underhanded?” - gina

“we did that together!”

“what should i do?”

“accept, clearly!” - gina

“i’d be careful, if i were you. miss jenn doesn’t trust him for a reason.” - carlos

“it’s up to you, (y/n). you’ll do great, and it’s a great opportunity.”

“but?”

and everyone can feel the pause - the conflict where ej doesn’t know what to say.

“but nothing! this is a HUGE opportunity! he’s dancer extraordinaire derek hough zach roy! i’d be the villain of your eventual documentary if i were to try to hold you back.”

“okay... i think i’ll do it. you know how competitive things are, here. this could really give me a boost.”

“hell yeah, (y/n)!” - gina

“spy on their production for us?” - carlos

“anything for you <3″

i imagine you clash a lot with lily, but you actually become really good friends with howie and antoine. but that’s beside the point.

and while things are on good terms at first, your bond with your wildcats stays strong, and you’re carving out a place in north high rehearsals, lily is quick to find out that you’re on the east high group chat.

and because this is hsmtmts, i get to have some fun with this premise.

lily gets some kind of tech nerd on her side, and she gets him to make it so that somehow, the text that you get from the theatre group also send to her phone, for maximum stalking of the competition. that’s how she always gets one step ahead of east high.

and as north high seemingly continues to have insider info on east high, someone suspects there’s a leak.... which leads to you. who else has access to north high? so they send a fake text and wait to see if north high takes the bait.

they do. so now east high thinks it’s you.

but at this same time, you keep noticing that suspiciously, whenever you get a text from east high theatre department, lily’s phone goes off to. literally at the same moment, you’re doing your own test to see if somehow she hacked your phone.

(you had your suspicions because lily is actually terribly bad at hiding her hand and constantly makes remarks that make you Think™.)

you confirm lily to have hacked your phone, and so you go old school and show up to east high, hoping to tell them what happened and find some fix (since east high is the mother of all tech schools in this universe.)

but when you walk into the auditorium, the cast is being really passive aggressive toward you? and you’re so confused? what happened?

of course, ricky is the only to confront you because these days, it seems like he’s always one (1) moment away from blowing up.

and you explain that you were played just as much as they were - it was never your intention to betray them. east high is your family.

“oh, yeah? i’ve never known an east high leopard to go to north high.”

and so now we’re in shambles! we’re divided!

you leave, upset, and ej catches you in the hall. he tries to explain that ricky’s been on one, recently, that none of his anger was really meant for you, and that he believes you - truly. he knows you’re the last person to ever betray them. you’re not like that. that’s more him than it is you.

and you just give him the world’s biggest h u g .

now you’re probably wondering why i insisted on this particular plot line, but let me tell you - ej never really understood completely what a complete breach of trust it was for him to steak nini’s phone and violate her privacy like that. now he can see how deeply it affects you - how it can really ruin people in ways you never intend. it’s about the learning curve.

anyway, it takes you a while to build up trust with east high again, but you say “hey, why don’t you guys continue to send false leads to this group chat? make another for yourselves, and continue to spread misinformation to me.

ej is like... do you really want to sabotage your own show? but you tell him something along the lines of “our show is still going to have superior choreography, lily is just going to waste her time doing pointless side missions. it has nothing to do with the quality of my work.”

and ej loves this competitive and devious side of you so much. but he’s also deathly terrified of telling you how much he cares about you, because he always manages to screw things up.

and gina finds hilariously endearing because of all people to be self conscious... ej caswell? the ej caswell? she would be his hype woman if she wasn’t so busy finding this all too Good to be true.

eventually, lily will find out, but when she confronts you and threatens to tell the cast that you’re the reason they’re so behind in their production, you tell her that to do that, she’d have to confess to stealing your phone, hacking into it, and using it to spy on you which breaks like 23 different school rules. but sure! tell everyone! you’d love to see how the principal reacts when you film it and show it to them on monday.

(this is getting really long, let me see if i can wrap it up, quick)

clearly, ej is an Idiot when he’s in love, and even though he’s deathly afraid of telling you his feelings, that doesn’t stop him from expressing them.

both of you are in your respective musicals, and your rehearsal schedules align really nicely, so a lot of the time, ej will drive up to north high afterward so he can give you a ride home. (you don’t have a car, okay?) you guys always stop to get fast food or a drink at starbucks or something, and you have little “dates” where ej parks the car and the two of you eat in his car, just chatting about your day.

or on weekends, you and ej go and drive up to the state college that ej was admitted to, and you walk around campus, trying to envision him there. and if you’re also going to a school nearby, you do the same for you. (bonus points if you’re going to the same college, so you walk around and pick out the places where you’ll chill together.)

and if these little excursions of yours are the highlight of your week, and all you want to do is hold ej’s hand forever, singing in the car with the windows down and driving into the sunset... well, you just hope that ej wants the same.

and since ej is in av club, and he’s really trying to dig in and figure out what his story is, he’s always got a camera of some kind out, and some of his best work, he swears, are pictures and videos of you.

anyway, at some point, you confess to ej that you have a crush on him (howie probably pushed you to do it because he was tired of seeing you pine).

it’s a weekend and the two of you are procrastinating on your respective school assignments (study sessions being interrupted with senioritis? sounds about right) so instead you’re just sitting on the floor, staring at the ceiling, talking about whatever. and i think it just slips out, and when you realize what you’ve said, you’re vvv embarrassed, and you don’t even want to look at see how ej reacts, but he calls your name and you turn to him, a deadly mixture of dread and hope rooted in your stomach and shaking you to your core, but ej is smiling and in his eyes is something brighter than the sun, and when he tells you he’s feels the same, it’s like that dread in your stomach blooms into pure joy and when he tells you he’s had a crush on you since you were eighth graders and you were a better dancer than him, you can’t help but laugh until all of that warmth in your stomach has escaped into the air and hangs around the two of you like low hanging stars - so close, you can reach out and touch them.

anyway, cue lots of sneaking around north high - not because it’s a secret but because it’s fun hiding in the back of the auditorium and sneaking into the empty dance room.

cue cheering for each other at the menkies and congratulating each other when east high gets best musical, and north high gets best choreography (amongst others).

cue going to denny’s to celebrate and laughing until your sides hurt, stealing each other’s fries, and holding hands under the table.

(also... ej 100% would kiss your fingers when your hands are intertwined and that’s truly a blessing)

cue going to pool parties together for no other reason than i want all of the east high kids to do an impromptu rendition of “all for one” and ej gets to hit ricky with one of those blow up beach balls “for revenge” on the basketball moment in season 1.

plus, a pool party would do wonders for destressing, don’t lie.

AND FLUFF ENSUES.

taglist: @maybanksslut, @theletterhart, @brokenandheadoverheels, @neelia-thedaughtherof-athena @kitsdeadwife, @amortensie // add yourself to the taglist here!

#hsmtmts #high school musical: the musical: the series #high school musical the musical the series #ej caswell #ej caswell x reader #ej caswell x you #ej caswell headcanons #reader insert #ej caswell imagine #imagine #headcanons #would include #fluff #long post #you know it's a long post if i added a read more to headcanons and it's still long without the read more #anyway my agenda includes loving ej caswell wbu?

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cobrakaisb · 3 years

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modern day romeo and juliet part 2

read part one here!

a/n: here is the largely anticpated part two of the imagine! after getting numerous asks begging for a part two, i decided to finally publish it. sorry it took me so long besties but school and softball have been kicking my ass lately. love you all!!!

summary: you and hawk are going strong but your friendship with sam and demetri has fallen apart, or has it. (also warning: reader gets a bloddy nose in this imagine if that bothers you in anyway don’t read)

word count: 1,711

“so are you and hawk like together now?” moon asked as the two of you walked to the cafeteria. “yeah,” you answered, a light blush coating your cheeks. “oh my gosh yes! i’m so happy for you!” she shouted, wrapping her arms around your shoulders, squeezing tightly. “thanks moon,” you replied half-heartedly. moon immediately picked up on your sad demeanor, “what's wrong?” “nothing,” you answered, giving her a fake smile. moon was going to call your bluff, but she was interrupted by hawk. “hey guys,” he greeted, pulling you into a tight hug.

“hi hawk,” you replied, arms wrapped around his waist as he swayed you back and forth. “are you sitting with us at lunch?” he asked, looking at you. “yeah probably. your friends won’t mind right?” you asked. hawk immediately shook his head no, the two of you just staring at each other intensely. “you guys are so cute! i’ll see you later y/n,” moon announced, walking away from you and hawk. the two of you pulled apart, hands intertwined as he led you over to the cobra kai table.

“anything from sam?” hawk asked quietly. you gently shook your head, causing hawk to frown. he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead, “she’ll come around,” he assured. “i hope so,” you mumbled as the two of you sat down at the cobra kai table. your sad mood was immediately lifted however when doug and big red started throwing napkins at you.

“i can’t believe she’s actually sitting with him,” demetri said, appalled at the fact that you were sitting with hawk at lunch. “why wouldn’t she be sitting with hawk? they’re together now,” moon said, a happy smile on her face as she watched you laugh from your spot next to him at the cobra kai table. “i still can’t believe that. how could y/n even like someone like him?” sam asked, angrily stabbing at her lunch with a fork. moon’s eyes widened as she watched sam. “aren’t you happy for her?” moon asked, confusion clear in her voice.

sam scoffed at moon’s words. “why would i be happy that she’s fraternizing with the enemy?” sam asked. “the enemy? do you even hear yourself?” moon asked sam, and even demetri looked surprised by sam’s words. sam was silent, shooting a sad look your way. “you regret it don’t you?” demetri accused sam, but she just remained silent, looking down at her lunch. “regret what? what did you guys do?” moon asked.

“when we caught y/n and hawk kissing at your party a while back, we may have kicked her out of miyagi-do,” demetri mumbled, feeling ashamed by their actions. “are you kidding me!” moon yelled, causing some heads to turn, but she just shooed them off with a wave of her hand. “that’s why y/n has been so down lately? because you kicked her out of karate?” moon asked, while demetri and sam just nodded. “you guys are the worst,” she continued. “thanks for reminding us,” sam mumbled, sparing a glance at you.

you were laughing at something that doug had said. “that’s too funny,” you mumbled between laughs. the boys just laughed at how funny you found doug’s joke, when in reality it wasn’t meant to be that funny. “i can’t believe that you’re in miyagi-do y/n. you’re nothing like those dorks,” doug said. you tensed up at his words, and hawk took immediate notice. he glared at doug, ready to tell him off, but you beat him to it. “i’m actually not in miyagi-do any more. they kicked me out,” you said sadly. the boys all looked around in embarrassment. “but it’s whatever because i have a boyfriend and all the children we adopted now,” you joked, holding up peace signs.

“what kids did we adopt?” hawk asked, confusion clear in his voice. “literally everyone here. they are all out children,” you explained, gesturing to the table full of boys. the boys all burst into laughter while hawk just wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. you rest your head on his shoulder, placing a small kiss on his neck. “ew! imagine having to watch your parents do that!” doug shouted jokingly, throwing a fruit snack your way. everyone laughed at him, and soon lunch was over.

“hawk! wait for me!” you shouted, walking out of the locker room dressed for gym class. hawk immediately stopped walking, waiting for you to catch up to him. “hi!” you said, giggling as he peppered small kisses all over your face. “hawk let’s go!” one of his friends yelled from up ahead. hawk grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers, as he pulled you towards the front of his squad.

together the group of you walked onto the soccer field. of course the boys were being confident, walking with their heads held high. you just rolled your eyes at them and their cocky behavior. “alright let’s remember to keep the aggression to a minimum due to the school’s new policy,” the gym teacher shouted as she blew the whistle signaling the start of the soccer game.

almost immediately, sam and the other miyagi-do students were blatantly going for the cobra kai boys. you noticed that doug was about to retaliate but hawk held him back, mumbling something, which clearly calmed him down. the game continued, and hawk scored a goal. you cheered loudly for him, and he just winked at you, causing you to blush. the game went on, and each dojo was getting progressively more aggressive. you were running down the field when someone called you name, causing you to turn around. the next thing you knew, the soccer ball was flying towards your face. you didn’t have anytime to cover your face, and so you got hit in the face with the ball.

“what the fuck!” you shouted, hands flying up to your nose which was now gushing blood. “y/n!” hawk called from across the field, running over to you. “baby let me see it,” he demanded, pulling your hands away from your face. he removed your hands, and tilted your head back to help stop the flow of blood. “who did this?” hawk asked loudly, glaring at everyone around him. when nobody answered he shouted even louder, “who did it?” this time sam stepped forwards. “it was an accident, i swear,” she rushed, looking nervously between you and hawk.

hawk rolled his eyes at sam, his jaw and fists clenching. “yeah i’m sure it was,” he growled, taking a threatening step towards her. “hawk!” you shouted, but he ignored you. “i-” sam started but she was cut off by hawk. “what? kicking her out of karate wasn’t enough? i get it that you guys don’t like me, but just because we’re together doesn’t mean that you should punish her for it. especially since we’re happy. don’t come near her again!” he finished, and you couldn’t help but swoon. he’s defending my honor. that’s so hot, you thought.

after his conversation with sam, hawk took you to the nurse’s office. she just gave you an ice pack and some paper towels, before sending you back to class. you and hawk were walking to your next class when sam and demetri approached the two of you. “i thought i told you to stay away from her,” hawk said, stepping forward but you stopped him by placing your hand on his chest. hawk huffed, but stayed quiet. it was silent between the four of you, all of you just staring at each other. “was there something you guys needed?” you asked.

demetri cleared his throat. “yeah we were hoping to talk to you. preferably without your boyfriend,” he said and hawk tried to step forward but you stopped him once again. “yeah that’s fine. i’ll see you in class babe,” you answered, kissing hawk’s cheek before shooing him away. once he walked down the hall, and was far enough away from you, you looked towards demetri and sam. “what was it that you wanted to talk about?” you asked, crossing your arms.

“we wanted to invite you back to miyagi-do. it was wrong of us to kick you out,” sam said, not making eye contact with you. you scoffed at her words. “why should i even come back? you guys made it pretty clear that you didn’t want me there,” you said. “that’s because you’re dating hawk of all people!” sam shouted at you, and you glared at her. “sam! we came to make amends not cause more problems!” demetri interjected, glaring at the larusso girl.

“look y/n, i’m sorry, for everything. i know that you really like hawk, and that the two of you are happy together. and,” demetri started, taking a deep breath, “if you’re happy then i’m happy for you. i understand if you don’t want to come back to miyagi-do or even be our friend, but i just want you to know that i’m sorry for everything, nose included.” you smiled at demetri’s apology. “thanks demetri, that means a lot. i don’t think that i’ll come back to karate, but i’d love it if we could try and fix our friendship,” you said, looking at him. “yeah, i’d like that,” demetri answered, a big smile on his face.

the two of you turned to face sam, who remained silent the whole time. “i’m sorry too y/n. i never should’ve kicked you out of miyagi-do for being with hawk, especially since you guys are great together. and i’m sorry for your nose. i’ve been such a bitch to you, and i understand if you don’t accept my apology, but i would like to be friends again,” sam apologized, looking at you shyly. you smiled softly at the girl, “i’d like that.” sam smiled back at you. you all knew that things were going to be different now, and this isn’t something that you were just going to forgive and forget, but you were all willing to make amends and that’s all that matters.

you walked into your next class, taking your seat next to hawk, with a smile on your face. “everything okay?” he asked, looking you over. “everything’s perfect,” you answered, kissing him softly.

#hawk cobra kai #hawk cobra kai x reader #hawk cobra kai imagine #eli moskowitz #eli moskowitz x reader #eli moskowitz imagine #hawk imagine #hawk x reader #cobra kai x reader #cobra kai imagine #cobra kai #cobrakaisb writing

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writefightandflightclub · 4 years

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Trial by Fire (Part 1/3) Santiago “Pope” Garcia x GN reader

Summary: You’re finally introducing your new boyfriend to The Boys. It must be intimidating for your guy because, hello? Not only are they literally lethal, as well as infeasibly handsome, but they’re hella protective of you to boot. They want the best for you so, naturally, they make your guy run the gauntlet the whole evening. Santiago, though? Well. Given that he is secretly in love with you? Let’s just say he doesn’t handle the situation very well at all.

Genre / tropes: angst, friends to lovers, love confession.

Author’s note: I wasn’t planning on writing this (in fact I’m writing the opposite, where “Santi has a new girlfriend and you don’t take it well” as a series, loosely based around the 7 deadly sins); but, in the meatime, I wrote this to get back into the swing of things after a lil break. It’s just a quick one, but there will be a second and final part, if you want it! Let me know!

Word count: somehow, 4.4k.

Warnings: language, angst, best friends arguing, Santi being an asshole.

Rating: T

The boys aren’t being as awful as you had anticipated, at least. For the most part, they’re actually being pretty friendly, and although they’ve transitioned into grilling Dean about every aspect of his life, they are at least listening intently and smiling at his answers. All except for one fucker, of course; and, naturally, surprising no-one, the fucker misbehaving is one (1) Santiago “Pope” Garcia.

The group - the boys, yourself, and Dean- are huddled comfortably around the blazing warmth of the fire pit in Frankie’s yard. The dancing, oranged flames cut through the dark and cold of the crisp night, as you sit upwind of the smoke on scattered, mis-matched camp chairs.

Whilst the others are evidently enjoying the evening -faces painted with smiles, body language open and leaning-in to chat to Dean- that fucker Santi is leaning back in his chair, his jaw twitching in seeming aggravation, his arms folded, and his intense eyes needling your beau. In this dim light, with the firelight licking over the sharp planes of his face, he looks every bit like a trained killer about to leap out of the shadows and garotte someone. Well… a very petulant trained killer. His call sign should have been Mr. Grumpy Pants, you think idly.

What’s up with him this time?! you wonder.

He gets these moods sometimes. And, when it strikes him, he can be a little bit hostile - despite the fact he’s a puppy underneath it all. You had hoped that for once, maybe he would suck it up, and yet, your hopes had been in vain, it seems.

Every time Dean speaks, or touches you, or even laughs at another of the guys’ stories, Santi’s expression sinks further and further through layers of distaste; and, by this point, he’s eyeing Dean as though he’s a war criminal the squad have been sent to take-out. You half expect him to leap up and take down Frankie any second for fraternizing with “the enemy”, if you’re honest.

Truth be told, you’ve had just about enough of this. Your friend had better buck his ideas up, sharpish, or he’d be reminded very swiftly that you were Delta Force too.

For now, trying to ignore the bastard, you look back at Dean, and the sight of him in animated conversation with your buddies causes at least some of your aggravation to fall away. Things have been going well between you and Dean, even if you do say so yourself. Originally from Michigan, he now worked as a lecturer at a nearby music school. He was also a banjo musician in a bluegrass / synth power-pop mash-up of a band, which (sort of) explained his retro-inspired mop of brown hair and his thick dark moustache - majestic enough to rival Frankie’s. True, he wasn’t your usual type, but he was honest, and sweet and kind... Plus, he’d never killed anyone with his bare hands, which was rather refreshing too, if you were honest.

Safe to say, so far, things were working out. So well, in fact, that you’d recently met his parents for the first time while they were in town. So well, in fact, that -after keeping him purposefully away from the boys for as long as you feasibly could- you’d now brought him to meet your family. That’s what this squad was to you, after all. Your family.

Remembering sporadic moments from the past few months together, you smile gently as you listen to Dean talk. You watch him seamlessly integrate some tailored conversation starters you’d fed him ahead of time, and you gently squeeze his thigh in an act of reassurance and appreciation. He is feeling the pressure, you can tell, although he is handling it well. To be fair, you think, who wouldn’t feel the pressure? You’d been nervous enough to meet his parents, but this? A bunch of Delta Force guys and an MMA champion? This squad was lethal; literally -you’ve lost track of your combined kill count, though Will probably hasn’t, you are sure.

Aside from that though, most of all, they are your family. You need them to like Dean and vice versa, and you know that isn’t necessarily a given. You are a tight-knit group, with little hope of outsiders grasping the full extent of your decade’s old in-jokes, or the intense camaraderie instilled by facing a hail of bullets together. Plus, as the baby of the group, they were protective as all hell of you.

It came from a good place, you knew: they wanted what was best for you. But, there was a reason you’d delayed this meeting... It’s not as though they were threatening or anything. They didn’t do the whole “if you hurt our buddy, I’ll kill you” thing, for example (at least, not while you were present – you couldn’t vouch for what happened when you were out of earshot). However, after introducing a succession of boyfriends to them over the years, the squad had developed a well-rehearsed system for sizing-up your new squeeze. In the past, not all of your squeezes had made it through the gauntlet. It was a trial by fire, to be sure, and you were pleased that Dean has not yet been burned.

Of course, whilst the boys’ approval didn’t mean everything to you, you couldn’t deny it was important; perhaps especially this time, with this guy. And, out of all of the group, Santi’s approval meant the most to you. Always had. Probably because Santi meant the most to you, full stop. You simply couldn’t imagine having someone in your life that didn’t get on with your best friend. And, so, you are not overly thrilled at the reception Santi is giving Dean right now. The reception he had been giving him all evening, in fact. And the more you dwell on it, the more an anger bubbles forth from you. Even though you try to push it down, and focus on Dean, that fucker in the corner of your eye sends you.

“What’s wrong with you tonight, Garcia?” you blurt out, a little louder than intended, causing the amiable chat and giggles to stall, all eyes turning to you - then, in turn, following the direction of your fiery gaze over to Santi, who shifts uncomfortably in his seat.

Now, he leans forward. Looks back at you with a rare venom in his eyes. With a smug curl of his mouth, he dips to pick up his beer from the floor and takes a swig - buying himself some time. Trying to brush you off. Still, your gaze does not relent as he rests his elbows on his thighs, bridging his fingers together in the space between, thumbs sticking in the air.

Now, he engages, and he looks directly at Dean, his eyes sweeping dismissively over the entirety of his form. Now, he speaks, his voice filled with far more bitterness than the situation merits. “Nothing at all. I’m fucking peachy. So, Dean. You play the motherfuckin’ banjo?” he offers, and yet, it sounds far more like an accusation than a question.

What the fuck is up with him?

Wilting a little beneath Santi’s stare, as the ex-operative squints his eyes in his direction, Dean casts a helpless, sideward glance at you from his place in the circle, and yet, you are so stupefied by anger that you can do little to help.

“I think what my dear friend means to say -” Frankie dips in valiantly, smacking Santi pointedly on the thigh, likely hoping to smack some sense into him too “- is why don’t you tell us more about your music, Dean?”

Frankie’s eyes and smile are soft when he looks at you, surreptitiously exchanging a pointed look -what’s up with that pendejo?- and you are grateful that at least some of the evident tension is diffused when he picks up the slack in the conversation.

Santi and his mood swings be damned, and, feeling bolstered, Dean continues on.

“Actually, it’s going pretty frickin’ well with the band. It’s a side-gig to my lecturing job, but we’re planning a tour during summer vacation. The States -east coast- and Western Europe for now. Maybe headlining a couple of small festivals, if that pans out, who knows.” Dean relates, humbly.

“That’s great, man,” Will chips in, helping Frankie get things back on track. “We’ll have to come down to a gig soon, hear you play.”

“Actually, we have something to tell you about the tour, don’t we, babe?” Dean says bashfully, and he looks at you expectantly, waiting for you to pick-up the thread. You’d talked about it before coming today, and it had seemed like a great idea at the time, but suddenly, now that the announcement is imminent, your mouth is dry - as if filled with cotton. Still, you force a smile, and you’re not sure why, but you look anywhere else but at Santi as your lips form the words. “Yeah – kinda big news, fellas. I’m going to join Dean on the Europe leg of the tour. I’ll be leaving you losers behind for a few months.”

Dean’s face cracks into a smile and he reaches for your hand, looking made-up at the prospect. Still, while you will yourself to be fully present in the moment, you find yourself focussed on looking anywhere but at Santi, sure that his stare must be boring into the side of your head. You hadn’t told him yet. Unfortunately, at Santi is where just about everyone else ends up looking, as the fucker abruptly pushes his camp chair back and stands, storming indoors before anyone can hope to fathom it.

You exchange glances with Frankie, Will, and Benny, with Benny thankfully stepping-in this time to distract Dean from the obvious, and asking him which stops you two will be making, and which sights you plan to see.

“Look, man, don’t mind that tool. Got any sightseeing plans?”

What is Santi’s problem? Why can’t he give Dean a chance? Yes, you’ve made some mistakes in the past- been hurt, and Santi had helped you pick up the pieces -every time- but you had a good feeling about Dean. A really good feeling. Can’t he see that too?

Frankie throws a concerned glance back towards the house and motions as if to stand, but you beat him to it, wanting to get to the bottom of this. “I’ll go,” you insist, motioning for Frankie to stay put, and with a quick promise to Dean that you’ll be back soon (and a silent plea to your boys to take care of him in your absence), you do just that, walk-jogging across the grass.

When you step inside to the kitchen, you find Santi stood, hunched over the counter, his palms clasping the surface tight enough that his knuckles pale, and his head hung low, his shoulders rising and falling as he takes in exaggerated breaths.

“Well?” you ask pointedly, with zero tolerance for his bullshit. “What’s going on with you? Wanna explain why you’re being an ass to my boyfriend?” you challenge to the back of him, and he instantly whips around at the sound of your voice.

“I’m being an ass?” he asks indignantly, his eyebrows shooting towards the top of his head.

“Yes. In a nutshell. Yes,” you hiss, any other interpretation feeling impossible. You fold your arms and purse your lips, making it plainly evident that you are waiting for some explanation. And, oh boy, it had better be good.

Instead of explaining though, Santi simply huffs out breath, gesturing angrily out of the window. “That guy, really? That’s the guy you’re gonna go all in for? Go to fucking Europe for?”

That guy, you mouth silently, completely stupefied for a moment. You’re not sure exactly what your so-called friend is insinuating, but you are clear that you don’t like it one bit.

“What is your fucking problem?” you ask, punctuating your words with motions of your hands, as if you are trying to strangle the air in-between you in lieu of his neck. “Dean’s a catch. He’s hot, he’s sweet, he’s a nice guy. He’s there for me. He takes care of me.”

“Like I don’t take care of you?!” Santi exclaims, his voice rising and abrasive; and then, immediately after the words tumble forth from his lips, he steps back imperceptibly, as if startled by his own outburst, his hand rasping over the stubble on his chin.

“What in the...? This isn’t about you, you ass!” you bite back, face scrunching up in confusion. Your fingers come to your temples as you grow increasingly lost-off and perplexed, and seemingly, your riposte only makes Santi double down on whatever the hell he is complaining about.

“Who’s the one who’s always been there for you, hmm? Who picks up the pieces every time you make yet another dumb shitty choice with another shitty guy?” he rambles, gesturing his hand towards you dismissively.

You step back from him this time, just a little, tears spiking instantaneously in your eyes at such an unnecessarily cruel blow. He’s right, in a sense: you had always relied on Santi to heal you, not to hurt you - and yet here he was dealing these painful, incoherent blows out of nowhere.

“Shit, Garcia. If it’s that much trouble to be there for me don’t bother next time,” you snap, your voice breaking as the swell of anger and hurt and adrenalin sends tears spilling over your cheeks. “Don’t worry though, I don’t think I’ll need you again. In fact, I have a feeling this guy might stick. So, maybe? Maybe you should think about the fact that the only shitty guy around here is you.”

“You really think he’s good enough for you, hmm? He’s really who you want to end up with?”

You listen, aghast, as his tirade keeps coming. However, as Santi’s voice breaks with emotion part-way through his second question, you can’t explain it, but you feel an intolerable sadness in the pit of you. Even though you’re not sure what’s causing all this, what you’re barrelling toward, you want to thrust this sadness away from you. Push him away from you. You want to push away the knot in your stomach for fear that if you tug at that thread, you might arrive at an answer to his question.

Exasperated, overwhelmed, you roughly paw tears from your cheeks, not knowing where all of these feelings are coming from, in either direction. “Fuck, I... I don’t understand what this is. I don’t get it!” you say, waving your hands, palms-up, through the air. “Is this some macho bullshit? Have I pissed you off somehow?”

At that, the wave of Santi’s anger crests and breaks; as you wonder if you annoyed him. Then, as suddenly as his anger came it is waning, his eyes pooling with rare tears now. With a huff of breath he tears off his damn cap, tossing it aside to run a hand through his grizzled hair.

“No. No,” he backtracks a little, palms up in surrender. “You haven’t... I.... I just...” He pinches his lips in-between his teeth and looks up at the ceiling as his words trail off, perhaps trying to steady his voice before continuing. Or, perhaps he has nothing else to say to you. Perhaps he’s said enough.

You examine him. Still pissed as all hell, but worried now too, and ultimately, your love for your best friend slightly edging-out the anger. It’s rare that anything affects him like this, and you can’t help the sudden rush of concern.

Cresting too, you exhale a tightly held breath into the now silent, taut space between you, and your body sags - just a little. You chew over your words a moment, but when your voice comes back the volume is lower, your tone softer - and, although it cannot be considered friendly, by any stretch, it’s the best you can do right now.

“You know what,” you offer, generously, wrapping your arms around your own middle, stroking your forearms with your own fingertips. “I’m giving you a pass. You don’t even want to give Dean a chance? Then just leave, Santi. Just go. I’ll give the guys some bullshit excuse that doesn’t leave you looking like a total ass, because I’m not a dick to my friends. So just go, okay?” You pump your eyebrow at him indignantly and await a response, your manner stiff and unyielding.

Santi closes his eyes and knits his brow together, something like regret finally passing over his face and he shuffles guiltily from foot-to-foot.

You puff out air through your teeth and shake your head, as you observe this Delta Force hero; the bravest man you know in many ways, but still too cowardly to tell it like it is. To admit that he’s in the wrong. You are afraid to say that even as his gaze comes back to you, misty-eyed, you have little sympathy for his plight. You are sure it is of his own doing. You are almost as sure that he won’t open-up.

“You know,” you begin, breaking from your position and gathering up a fresh cooler of beers from the fridge, turned away from him as you speak. “I brought Dean to meet my family. Do you understand that? I didn’t have parents and siblings for him to meet. I have you guys. You’re my family.”

Still nothing. Nothing but silence greets you. Nothing but a pained expression on his face, his brows drown together and the artificial light of the kitchen highlighting the harsh planes of his face as you look over your shoulder at him, waiting for some reaction. Some admission of guilt. None comes. He simply slots his hands into his jean pockets, looking sheepish.

“So,” you continue, greeted with a brick wall, “fuck knows why you don’t want me to be happy, but I am. I’m happy with him. Thanks a ton for shitting all over that.”

You don’t even bother to look towards him this time, instead placing the last of the clinking, condensation-adorned bottles into the carrier, resigned to head back out without him, and without any apology.

“I’m sorry,” he finally says, and your head whips towards him in surprise.

He looks it - sorry. He looks apologetic. Deeply so. He looks sorry for this, for every way he’s ever slighted you, for every time he’s hurt you, even in ways and moments you never knew about. He looks sorry down to the pit of him, and it catches you off-guard when you see it freely offered there in his eyes.

Even so, this is a stubborn man. There’s an apology, but there’s no explanation. Nothing to explain his behaviour. So, even though it seems genuine, it also doesn’t seem like enough.

It doesn’t appease you, and yet, all you can bring yourself to do is sigh deeply.

You know Santi better than anyone, but there’s always been a part of him that has seemed out of reach, even to you. You’re not sure -never have been- whether to be scared or excited by those unknown parts of him. Not sure whether the impasse hints at buried secrets too dark and deep to bear, or whether it hints of a possibility of something more. Something deeper or something better you could have together, if only he would let you in. You don’t know, and you never have, but all you are sure of is that you have constantly teetered on the edge of that abyss, too much left unknown to know all of him, however much you may have wished to. He’s entitled to his secrets, of course, but you hate how they hurt him.

With a little sympathy now, you examine his watery eyes, and when your voice comes back this time, it is softer and slower than you intended. More tired than you expected.

“You know, Dean wants to be with me. And he tells me so.” You casually dip down to pick-up the cooler handle, eyes still fixed on your best friend. “He might not be Delta Force… he might be a banjo player from Michigan… but even he’s brave enough for that.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Santi says, bristling all over again, his hand rasping angrily over his stubbled jaw, and yet, you decline him an explanation. Instead, keeping your own secrets now, holding back, you head towards the door, beers in hand.

Still, you turn back to him. You might be angry, but you still care for him -more than you could say.

“If you figure out what’s up with you, let me know, and I’ll be there for you. Whatever you’ve got going on, you know that, right? But this? This isn’t okay, Garcia. You might think that I make dumb choices -you ass, by the way- but I’ve watched you hit self-destruct so many times instead of dealing with your feelings. Maybe you should look at your own life, huh, instead of shitting all over me for trying to be happy? Shit, at least I fucking try.”

His eyes shift from side to side in the room, the muscles in his jaw twitching, chin jutting forward, and his thumbs locked in his belt loops. He can’t quite bring himself to meet your gaze; at least not until you are disappearing through the threshold; until it’s almost too late. Why can’t he ever manage anything unless it’s too late?

“Wait!” he pleads, but you cut him off, before he can speak. Even though, truth be told, you’re not sure he would muster anything to say at all, even if you gave him a chance. He’s so used to holding back.

“No,” you say firmly. “Forget it, I’m done. I still love you- you’re my best friend. But, fuck, just go home, and get out of my sight, Santiago. I’m so pissed with you right now.”

And so, you turn away, and when his words finally do come, they are spoken to the back of your head. They are spoken without you ever seeing his lips move, and you wonder if he ever said them at all, or if this might be some cruel trick of the night. Some witching hour spell. That is, until you turn towards him and you see the words painted clearly on his face too.

“Fuck it. I’m in love with you.”

I’m in love with you.

Why can’t he ever manage anything unless it’s too late?

You’re not sure what reaction he was expecting, but you almost choke on the sudden lump in your throat. You feel a taste of bile rising-up into your mouth. An intense, resurgent anger fills you, which near makes the room spin, and makes your hands and your legs tremble.

Even if a hidden, unconscious part of you has been waiting, hoping for these words all these years, when they finally come all you can feel is... royally pissed off.

“Oh. No. No. No,” you repeat, words gradually increasing in volume, looking at Santi as if he has mortally wounded you, rather than offered that confession. “You do not get to do this to me.”

You see a hard swallow bob down his throat, a near-instant regret on his face, and your heart pounds in your chest as you reel with the implications of his words.

The coward. The fucking asshole. He waited until now? All the times things had gone to shit, and he waited until you were happy?

“All the times...” you accuse, your tone as bitter as the taste in your mouth, the metallic tang of blood as you feel a rushing in your ears. “All the fucking times. All the chances, Santi, and you do this now?” you continue, your finger sawing through the air, wagging accusations at him, even as your voice wavers, as your hands notceably tremble. “No. Fuck you, Garcia. Fuck you.”

You want to cry, or scream, but you are too angry. So angry, that it eclipses anything else which might come to light. So angry that you almost come full circle again, beginning to stabilise out at eerily calm.

Santi looks down at the floor, and exhales air, chuckling disbelievingly to himself, then lightly nodding his head, lips pressed tightly together. His feet shift agitatedly below him as he brings his endlessly familiar eyes back up to meet yours. This time when he looks at you, it hurts. You remember bullet wounds, and you swear that was nothing compared to this.

“That’s it? That’s all you’ve got to say to me, hmm? Fuck you, Garcia?”

“What the fuck were you expecting?” you say, launching your words before you realise the implications of them. Yes, you know fine well that your boyfriend is sitting outside, likely wondering where you have got to. But, if you had the wherewithall to have thought about it, you would know exactly what Santi was expecting, despite all of that. You would know that a part of him must be expecting, hoping, that when he told you, you might reciprocate. That you might love him back.

And, would that be so outside of the realms of possibility? Would it be so hard to imagine that the deep, magnetic, and unshakeable friendship you shared could be something else? Something more? That you could tip over the edge you had long been teetering on? Maybe it could, or maybe it could have, but right now, you can’t see past the flashbang he has just dropped over your life, and it is clouding your vision.

You were happy. You are happy. Fuck him for doing this now.

Why would you fall into the unknown for him, if you never knew whether he would catch you? If you never knew whether ruin or safety awaited you if you let yourself tip? He always held back.

What the fuck were you expecting?

Your words linger in the space between you, and in lieu of any other lifeline, realisation dawns on Santi’s face. Realisation that, although he jumped, you are not intending to catch him either. But how could you catch him, with your arms already full?

And, so, he slowly nods his head once again, his eyes beading with glassy tears and his hand grazing over his chin in a self-soothing gesture. Wordlessly, he sets his jaw and he abruptly replaces his baseball cap on his head, padding a few steps forward to stand opposite you, sucking all of the breath from your lungs. This time, when he looks at you, you see all of your past, but you still can’t see beyond that. The abyss still scares you too much.

Like this, facing each other down, eye-to-eye, the silence in the room grows sharp as a knife, refined to a point. So, when Santi abruptly turns to leave in a sharp, determined trajectory, without so much as looking at you, it is as if he has dragged the blade across your skin in an equally swift motion. As if he has left you open and bleeding-out, having delivered a mortal wound with the act of his exit. You’ve felt like this on the battelfield before, and in life, yet he was always there for you. Always there to patch you. To pick up the pieces.

Instead of screaming open-mouthed for help, this time, you simply watch him go, and now you are the wordless one, mustering nothing but a gasped inhale of breath before your vision blurs with tears - as you watch his hazy form disappear along the hall and out of your sight.

“Santi,” you call pathetically, your voice small and weak and teary, barely making it past your throat, and he doesn’t hear you. He doesn’t hear you but even if he had, you’re not sure anymore if he would have stopped.

When Santi slams the front door behind him, you shudder with it in its frame, your hand coming to your chest as if to hold your heart inside your opened-up ribs, and you close your eyes against the jarring sound, tears spilling down your cheeks, your face screwing-up into a shined, contorted grimace.

Entirely lost, now alone, you bizarrely wish for the room to be filled with anger again, instead of the intolerable sadness - which all too suddenly takes hold of you as your emotions crest and break. It is all you can do to stumble forward a few paces and hunch over the countertop, finding yourself in the exact position you had discovered Santi in. You stand, bracing yourself with your arms, fingers clutching the edge of the worktop, and your head slumped forward, tears freely spilling out of you as your chest heaves.

You wonder whether he’d held himself in this same position because he had felt an intolerable sadness too. An intolerable sadness at seeing you happy.

Suddenly you could understand it.

That fucker. Santiago “Pope” Garcia.

I’m in love with you.

The words echo in your mind, but this time, if you’re honest, you’re not wholly sure if they’re his, or yours.

PART TWO IS HERE

#santiago pope garcia x reader #santiago pope garcia #santiago garcia x reader #triple frontier #triple frontier x reader #triple frontier fanfic

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xxwritemeastoryxx · 3 years

Text

Tales of Heroes

Author: xxwritemeastoryxx

Pairings: Klaus Mikaelson x @mikaelson-emma

Request: Hi! Could I request a imagine/one-shot were the reader is Hayley’s sister (a hybrid) and has a child, but scarified herself to save the Mikaelson’s? She could romantically involved with Klaus, but her child isn’t his. She asks him to have him tell stories about her to the child, and one day she gets resurrected. Or it could something else! I love you writing and I am excited to see that you are taking requests! I hope you have a good day! ❤️❤️ -@mikaelson-emma Word Count: 2.1K

Warnings: Nope. Nothing I can think of.

Author’s Note: I’M OVER HERE CRYING MY EYES OUT. Like you guys have no idea how emotional this one has made me. I really do hope that at some point Emma comes in and sees this. I hope that this is everything you wanted. I freaking miss you! On another note, Welcome to another day of May Madness. I hope you guys enjoy!

Feedback gives me life and motivation for future things. ♥

Laughter filled the air as Hope and Ava played in Hope’s room. The sound could easily be heard anywhere throughout the compound. The two cousins playing while using up the last burst of energy they had in their systems before bed. For the first time in centuries, there was a peace that surrounded the Mikaelsons that allowed the girls to be carefree.

There was enough peace that the Mikaelson siblings didn’t have to worry about looking over their shoulders for any enemies that may be lurking in the shadows. With the two young girls, the Mikalesons believed that even more danger would be on their doorstep. But that hadn’t been the case. They were safe. They wouldn’t be hurt by the Mikaelsons’ past and that was all thanks to Emma. Without her, there wouldn’t have been the peace they were living in.

Klaus leaned against the door frame as he watched Hope run after Ava with a pillow. Ava’s laughter had been followed with a shriek as the pillow in Hope’s hand had come into contact with her. Ava swung the one she had in her hand, hoping to get Hope away for only a moment before she attacked back.

The sight itself had brought a smile to Klaus’ lips as he watched them. The bond between the two cousins had reminded him greatly of Emma and Hayley. The two girls are inseparable just as their mothers were after their own reunion. Hayley had believed she didn’t have any family left. And when she found her fraternal twin after coming to New Orleans, there was no breaking them apart.

Emma had fit easily into the family. It didn’t matter how complicated things may have become, Emma was there for her found family. She would never leave her sister in a fight and she’d make damn sure that her own daughter and niece were safe. And when it came to making a sacrifice for the girls’ safety. Emma was ready and willing to pay the price.

Just promise me one thing. Emma’s voice played in Klaus’ head as he watched the girls. That if anything ever happens to me, you’ll take care of her.

Klaus could remember telling her that he should never have to make that promise. That Emma would always be around to watch as her own daughter grew. Emma had made him promise anyways. She had even gotten Hayley to promise as well. Emma needed to be sure that her daughter was taken care of.

“Alright girls,” Hayley’s voice cut through Klaus’s memories, pulling him back to the present. “Time for bed.” Hope and Ava whined in unison the moment the words left Hayley’s lips.

“Five more minutes, Aunt Hayley?” Ava asked as she watched her Aunt look over at Klaus for a moment.

“Hayley is right.” Klaus said agreeing with her. “You both have big days tomorrow. It’d be a shame if the both of you were exhausted before the fun even began.”

For weeks the girls had been asking about taking a trip to the state fair when it came. While Klaus and even Hayley were skeptical about taking the girls there, they had been assured several times that things would be okay. That things wouldn’t go wrong just because the girls wanted to have some fun.

It was Freya that had convinced her younger brother that they should go. That they should have fun without worrying about anything. To let the girls live as normal of a life as they could from time to time. Ava may have only been a year older than Hope, but the girls were needing interactions with the outside world. Away from the teachings of spells, or self defense classes.

Klaus’s words had made the girls toss the pillows back onto Hope’s bed before turning to each other and saying goodnight. Ava ran past Klaus and Hayley as she went into the room across the hall. It caused Klaus to chuckle as he pushed himself off the doorframe.

“I got Ava.” He said as he turned and walked towards the door.

A small smile pulled at Hayley’s lips as he watched Klaus do so. For as many times Hayley had warned Emma about Klaus, they found a way to be together. After the fights, after the accusations, there was something that Emma had seen in Klaus. The same thing Klaus had seen within her. They were willing to do whatever it took to keep their family safe. To do whatever it took to keep each other safe.

Klaus had stepped up as the father figure to Ava after Emma sacrificed herself. While Hope was still his daughter and he’d do anything for her, Ava was in a sense, now his as well. For the past year, he worried for her. Stayed up with her when the nightmares would scare her. When she’d break down crying simply because she had missed her mom. Klaus was there for her. He may have not been her biological father, but with how much he had grown to care for and love Emma and Ava, Ava had become like a daughter to him.

Klaus watched as Ava climbed into bed, the moment he walked into the room. It wasn’t long before a smile tugged at his lips as she burrowed into her bed. To see so much of Emma within the young girl had caused a tinge of pain within his chest. Ava smiled at Klaus as she pulled the blanket over herself and nodded her head, signaling she was ready for her favorite story.

It was during those nights that Ava had woken up from nightmares that Klaus would tell her the tale of her Mother. It was in a way that showed how much he had loved and adored her while proving she was the hero that saved them all. It had become Ava’s favorite story. One that needed to be told each night in order to keep the nightmares at bay.

He walked over towards the bed and sat down at the edge. His hand coming to rest on her feet, making her giggle before he moved them. “You have to promise right after, you’ll go to bed.”

“I promise.” Ava brought her small hand up and made an x over her heart. “Cross my heart.”

Klaus chuckled as he shook his head slightly. “In a kingdom in a far away land, there lived a Queen. One that was loved by not only her subjects, but the family she had created. The bond between them ensured they were kept safe from any enemy that may have threatened them. The Queen was not immortal. For even the genes she carried within her blood may have made her stronger, but even the strongest warriors have their weaknesses.”

He watched as Ava’s lips pulled into a smile. “For this Queen’s weakness was her beautiful daughter. The Queen would slay those who dared entered their kingdom in hopes of taking or harming the Princess. She’d return from battle with the blood of her enemies on her body, showing that she would do anything in her power to save her child.

“Even her family would face the invaders to help the Queen. So long as the Queen was there, the family would be invincible.” Klaus had lost count of the many times Emma had helped save them. The countless times she had been there to help protect them or to take down an enemy without any hesitation as to what his past held. “It wasn’t long before a new threat arose in the Kingdom. A dark creature entered the Kingdom, taking her loved ones one by one, threatening to take their lives.

“One night, while the Princess slept, the Queen went and made a deal with a very powerful witch.” As Klaus said the words he could easily see in his mind how Emma had gotten up in the middle of the night to meet with Freya. Klaus remembered watching as she walked into Freya’s room before a spell kept him from hearing the words they spoke, or even viewing into the room from the balcony. “The deal would ensure the Princess would be safe, along with the rest of her family. But the King that had courted her, tried to stop her from making the deal.”

“You are all in danger!” Emma had yelled as she stood in front of Klaus. “I can’t just sit by and watch as you all are targeted. We almost lost your brother. What other close calls are we going to have to make before you let me help?”

“What about Ava?” He asked, trying to keep himself calm. The way they had been screaming at each other wasn’t getting them anywhere.

Emma shook her head as tears filled her eyes. “This is for her as much as it is for you and your siblings. For my sister. For our girls to be able to live without a darkness looming over them. You have to let me do this. I’ll be able to come back from this.”

“No.” Klaus said as he shook his head before moving to place his hands on the sides of her face. “A spell like this, even I know there is no coming back from it. It will break Ava.”

“You promised to take care of her.” She said as she placed her hands on top of his as they rested against her face. “Just don’t let her forget about me. Talk to her about me, about us. Because I know that is the only thing that will make this easier for her.”

He took in her words before he pulled his hands away from her. Realization hitting him. This just wasn’t her saying she was going to try and do this. This was Emma saying she had already done so. This was her saying her goodbyes. He ran his hand along his face before he turned his head away from her.

“When?” He asked a moment later as he turned to look back at her. It was as he looked into her beautiful brown eyes, that he loved so much, that he found the answer he needed.

“But he had been too late.” Klaus continued. He watched as Ava’s eyes began to close. He knew she would be asleep towards the end of the story. “No matter how much the Queen had loved the King, she knew what needed to be done. The very night the dark creature came to attack, the Queen’s family had begun to fall. Slowly each of them had been hurt by the creature. The Queen knew she’d be the next to be hurt. And once she was, the spell she had the powerful witch cast, allowed her body to absorb the dark creature.”

Ava rolled on to her side, her hands coming up under her head, her eyes closed. “Mommy saved us.”

The words were soft. To any human, they would have barely been able to hear them. But for a hybrid, they had been loud in his ears. A sad smile pulled at his lips as he watched her eyes close. “That she did.” He said before continuing the story. “The Kingdom mourned the loss of their Queen. But there was one thing the King had promised the Princess. She’d always be safe. She’d always be taken care of. And she’d be told of her mothers heroics. The Queen would never be forgotten. It was her wish for stories to be passed on about her just as the stories of legends had.”

Klaus slowly stood from his spot before he watched Ava for a moment. She was sound asleep by the time he had finished. A smile pulled at his lips as he leaned down and kissed the top of her head. “Goodnight little one.”

“You were always so great at telling her stories.”

Klaus froze at the voice. He thought for a moment that there was some kind of trick that someone dared to do on him. Because after a year, he never thought he’d hear that voice again. His memory didn’t even do it justice.

His heart sped up for a brief moment as he slowly turned towards the door. He hoped that his mind wasn’t playing tricks on him. Or anyone else for that matter. But as soon as his eyes landed towards the doorway, his jaw dropped slightly.

She was there. She was standing there in the doorway with a smile on her face as she watched his reaction. Klaus could see the way her eyes slowly filled with tears as he began closing the space between them. Without a second thought, he walked quickly over to her and pulled her into his arms.

Having her press against him had told him that this wasn’t a dream. That this wasn’t someone attempting to hurt him and the little girl that slept a few feet away. Emma was home and Klaus had every intention of making sure she never left his sight again.

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jungblue · 4 years

Text

aphrodite in war | 02

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

genre: comedy, fluff, angst, eventual smut / greek life, fake dating, roommates, lovers to enemies and back to lovers au

word count: 14,243

description: Everyone knew about the war that had been brewing on the edge of campus for the past two years. Sorority versus Fraternity; a showdown for the ages. However, when the escalating antics between them yields the consequence of possible suspensions for both chapters, the presidents of each house must come together to try and figure out how to end this battle... Which is kind of hard, considering they were the ones responsible for it in the first place.

note: here is an audio post of a beautiful song with lyrics inspired by AiW, which was written by one of my lovely readers!

→ part 01

Red, hot anger had curled its way around your bones, forcibly moving your limbs until you somehow found yourself standing in front of the Lambda house with a single pair of heart-covered boxers in hand; murderous intent leaving Jungkook’s voice indiscernible in the distance as you’d left him standing in front of the defiled Tri Delt house. Maybe he was telling you to wait for him while he began to pull down the rest of the countless pairs of boxers that were plastered along the outside of the sorority. Or maybe he was telling you to not go inside because it would only make it worse to have the furious president of Tri Delt waking up dozens of Lambdas at seven in the morning. You genuinely couldn’t tell what he was shouting as you ripped the front door of the fraternity open and stomped inside.

It had been over two years since you had stepped foot inside of your neighbor’s house, but it was exactly as you remembered. Red solo cups and crushed cans of beer scattered around the floor as a telling sign that it was indeed the morning after a night of partying, two Lambdas passed out on the couch because apparently the staircase that led to their rooms had been an impenetrable obstacle in their drunken states, and the scent of weed encasing the entire house that seemingly never went away. It was all the same, and you hoped as you went down the hallway to the left, that held a portion of the bedrooms in this house, that a particular person’s room was also the same as it had been before. You banged your fist against the door, scowling as you waited for the person on the other side to answer.

“What the fuck?” You heard someone say. The voice was scratchy from just being woken up but still recognizable as the person you were looking for; Jimin.

You banged on the door again, your patience level laying at zero.

You heard the bed creak and then footsteps began padding across the floor. “Uh, is this the cops?” He asked, probably to know whether he should hide a few things before opening the door.

You rolled your eyes. “No, I’m not here to confiscate your coke. Now. Open. The. Door.” You spat each word out through gritted teeth.

“Y/N?” Jimin asked before ripping his door open, revealing a mop of messy bed head framing his bewildered expression. He stood there shirtless, adorning only a white pair of tight Calvin Klein boxers that were doing absolutely nothing to hide his morning wood.

“Oh, god.” You threw your hand up to try and block out its unavoidable presence.

Jimin glanced down at himself before raising his head, smirking as he leaned against his doorframe, not even attempting to hide the piece of him that you were trying to avoid looking at. “You’re not exactly decent yourself there, Nips.” He pointed toward your chest.

Your eyes widened. In your rage you had completely forgotten about the attire you had decided was appropriate to storm the Lambda house in. You immediately crossed your arms over your chest to hide the fact that you were wearing the flimsiest tanktop of all time in combination with no bra.

“Plus, I’m in my own house,” He started again. “What’s your excuse?”

“Trust me. I would’ve loved nothing more than to never had to of stepped foot in this place ever again. But,” You paused, holding up the pair of heart covered boxers you had ripped off the Tri Delt house because you thought they were the most recognizable among the sea of plain solid blacks, whites, and maroons. “I have a motherfucking bone to pick with someone in this house.”

Jimin studied the piece of fabric that you held up before him before his mouth dropped open. “Fuck, did you sleep with Taehyung? I’m gonna knock his ass out if Jungkook doesn’t get to him first.”

Your face wrinkled in disgust. “Ew, no. There are about a million pairs of boxers all over the Tri Delt house and I’m trying to find out who did it, so thank you for letting me know. Now where is Tae’s room?”

“Oh, thank god.” Jimin’s expression softened, as if he was relieved that his friend didn’t sleep with you; who they thought of as the devil incarnate. “But no, I’m not telling you. I had nothing to do with that. I went home early last night. But Jungkook can deal with it, just like you can deal with what your girls did.”

“What’re you talking about?” You asked, eyes narrowing.

“Oh, you don’t know?” Jimin smiled. “Some of the guys texted me before I fell asleep last night saying that when they left Pub they found their cars with words written all over their windows in lipstick.”

Your eyes screwed shut, tongue jabbing at the side of your cheek as you tried to calm the colossal wave of anger that flooded through you for a second time in the fifteen minutes you had been awake.

What a fantastic day this was turning out to be.

“Are you serious?” You finally asked, voice a little bit louder than you’d intended.

“Yeah, so you might wanna check your own people before you come into someone else’s house and accuse them of things.” He shrugged. “Might save you some embarrassment next time.”

Heat rushed to your face. You were pissed, but that was only because you agreed with him. “Look—” You started, not really sure what was going to come out of your mouth, but it was the squeak of sneakers running along the wooden floor boards that stopped you.

Jungkook was suddenly rounding the corner, a mountain of boxers filling his arm. “Y/N, what the hell?” He hissed before dropping them to the ground.

“What? I was just trying to get to the bottom of this.” You held the heart boxers up one last time before tossing them into the pile next to Jungkook’s feet.

“Yeah, and how’d that go for you?” He pointed towards Jimin.

“Well, I found out who those boxers belonged to… But…” You trailed off, not wanting to admit what you just found out.

“But?” Jungkook asked.

“But, she found out that it was only payback for some of her members participating in a little bit of lipstick graffiti on Taehyung and a few other people’s cars.” Jimin smirked next to you as he revealed what you were too embarrassed to say.

There was a small pause, and then Jungkook was laughing, like he couldn’t believe that this was actually happening. That even after the threat of suspension to these people, they just didn’t care. And you just wanted to understand why. Was it truly because they didn’t care or was it due to the fact that the failed relationship that had acted as the catalyst to this war still held hostility and therefore still felt unresolved. Either way it was an issue that you and Jungkook needed to figure out how to fix. You were already trying to think of other possible solutions to this mess when another door a few feet away opened, and the sleep-deprived face of Taehyung poked its way out.

“The hell’s going on out here?” He slurred before his eyes locked with yours. “Whoa, seriously what the hell is going on out here?”

A few more doors throughout the hall began to open. Clearly this little altercation had been a little bit louder than you’d anticipated. All of the Lambdas faces twisted in confusion as they found you standing in their hallway for the first time in years.

“We found your little boxer exhibit,” You finally answered.

Taehyung threw his hands up. “Hey, I only did it because of the—”

“—Lipstick,” You finished for him. “Yeah, yeah, I got that part already.”

“Some of us had been drinking and it pissed us off.” Baekhyun shrugged, as he had been one of the guys to join in on this little morning confrontation. “Sorry.”

“I can’t deal with this. I have a million other things to worry about today.” You rubbed your palms over your eyes in frustration as you remembered the other issue you had to handle once the financial aid office opened for their half day, since today was Saturday. The mystery of your less than lucrative bank account and the implications that it had on your living situation hanging over your head.

“Well, as a sign of my immense regret and an attempt to repair this terrible relationship between our houses, I do have to say you look great this morning.” Baekhyun motioned towards your minimally covered body. “If you ever wanna hang out—”

You rolled your eyes, deciding to not listen to the rest of the garbage he decided to spew, but it turned out you didn’t even need to tune him out because suddenly a voice sliced through the air like a razor.

“Watch it, Baek.” Jungkook sounded cold, mouth set in a firm line as he stared daggers down the hallway.

“Uhm, I’m…” Baekhyun started, an awkward air encasing everyone. “I just woke up. I’m mildly delusional. My bad, Kook.” He tapped at his head and raised his hands as an apology before shutting the door.

There was silence, a palpable silence that had Jimin, Taehyung and a few of the other Lambdas that had opened their doors grabbing the back of their necks as they stared at the floor. But Jungkook kept his stance, arms crossed over his chest as he continued to stare at Baekhyun’s door.

After only a few moments of this you just couldn’t take it. You clapped your hands together, trying to let the sudden burst of sound break the tension. “Come on,” You said, pulling at Jungkook’s shirt. “Let’s talk outside.”

He nodded, finally breaking his glare down the hallway before turning towards Jimin. “Do you think you could give me a ride back to my place in a minute. I don’t have my car.”

“I can, but why’d you Uber back here last night instead of your place?” Jimin asked, clearly not privy to the events that had transpired between you and Jungkook last night.

Jungkook’s eyes found yours for a split second before returning to Jimin. “I met a girl from Chi Omega. I was gonna meet her at her place, but it fell through.” He shrugged, a lie so on the fly that it made you wonder how many times he’d done that to you since knowing him.

“Gotcha.” Jimin nodded, seeming to perfectly understand. “Just let me know when you wanna go.”

“Thanks,” Jungkook said as he joined you in stepping over the pile of boxers still strewn across the floor. “And make sure everyone picks this shit up.”

“Will do, boss.” Jimin saluted before shutting his door behind him.

After that you made a straight line through the house, not wanting to stand inside this place that held too many memories. You breathed a sigh of relief when you pushed the front door open, letting the fresh air wash over you — albeit the hot, muggy fresh air that reminded you of the fact that it was the end of summer and rain every single day was a constant.

“I got all the boxers,” Jungkook finally said.

“That’s great, but it still doesn’t change the fact that my members fucked up first. Plus, I have this financial aid bullshit to deal with.” You pinched the bridge of your nose, trying to flush the stress from your body. “What the hell are we gonna do?”

Jungkook shook his head and sighed, because like you he apparently also didn’t have any solid answers, but before he could try to offer anything his phone began to ring. He pulled it from his pocket and eyed the contact on the screen.

“Give me a second. It’s my new roommate that’s supposed to be moving in this week,” He said before answering.

“What’s up?” He began.

You stood there for a minute, watching the way Jungkook’s face began to slowly devolve as the person on the other side of the line spoke, and from the expression on his face, it did not seem like it was good news.

“Are you serious?” Jungkook finally said, grabbing at his hair. “Like I’m happy for you guys, but rent is due next week and you were supposed to be moving in and paying half.”

It seemed you weren’t the only person having issues involving living situations.

“I doubt I’ll be able to find anyone this short notice. And if I can’t there’s no way I can pay rent in full this month and have enough to last me the rest of the semester.”

After that the conversation on Jungkook’s end was mostly just grunts and short responses as he was clearly frustrated and already had his mind focused on possible solutions.

“Alright, alright, bye.” He hung up the phone, pressing his hands against temples.

“Well that didn’t sound good,” You said.

“Yeah, my new roommate apparently worked things out with his ex-girlfriend, so instead of moving in with me, he’s moving back in with her. So now, I have no one to split rent with and am basically fucked.”

That was actually very unfortunate, but even though you and Jungkook had experienced a somewhat understanding moment last night, it still wasn’t enough to completely erase the hostile relationship the two of you had engaged in for the last few years. So the comment that you replied with was already halfway out of your mouth before you could even think to stop it. “I’m sure it wouldn’t be too difficult to convince some of your harem of girls to play roomie and split rent with you.”

Jungkook turned to look at you, eyes narrowing into slits. “Yeah, I might do that actually.” He sounded pissed, clearly not finding any amusement in the comment that you admittedly shouldn’t have made. “And when you get kicked out of the Tri Delt house you should ask that guy from the soccer team if you can move in with him. What was his name? Hoseok?”

You deserved the response, but it still didn’t make your blood boil any less. “Whatever, we can deal with our fucked up living situations later on. For now just try and think of a way to get our idiot friends to stay in line. We’ll see who has the best idea at Kappa Sig tonight. Did Yoongi tell you about the party? Are you going?”

Yoongi was a mutual friend of yours and Jungkook’s from high school. He was also in a fraternity, but instead of Lambda Phi Epsilon it was Kappa Sigma, which was located a little further down Greek Drive. When the relationship between you and Jungkook ended he somehow managed to stay impartial and remained friends with the both of you, thankfully.

“Yeah, I’m going,” He said simply, clearly still embittered from your joke.

“Good, better start thinking then,” You said and then turned to head back towards the Tri Delt house; any progress you and Jungkook made last night seeming to snap in half as you left him behind.

Yet, somehow you could feel him staring into your back, the lingering feeling not disappearing until you closed the front door to your house behind you.

—————-

You had spent the past half an hour nervously fidgeting in your bed as you waited for the financial aid office to open. As soon as the time on your phone read eight a.m. you immediately dialed their number. However, it was the first week of classes, and that meant that everyone and their mother needed to talk to financial aid, because unfortunately situations like yours were completely common. So even though you called the second they opened it was still a twenty minute wait before you finally heard a voice that wasn’t pre-recorded and asking you to press various numbers depending on your issue or question.

“Hello. This is financial aid. How can I help you?” The woman on the other side of the line chimed.

“Hi, I have a question about my refund.” Your voice was high-pitched as it shifted into a mode that was more professional. “I received my refund on Thursday, and it was the correct amount. However, when I checked my bank account yesterday my refund had been completely taken out. I was just trying to figure out why that is.”

She hummed in understanding. “Could you give me your student I.D number and we’ll see what’s going on.”

You rattled off your number and there was a few seconds of silence as the woman on the other side pulled up your information.

“Okay, it says here…” She paused, presumably reading through whatever she was seeing once more. “That you will be getting your refund deposited back into your bank account, however, it had to be taken back out to adjust the amount. One of your scholarships informed the university that you and a few other recipients did not meet the new community service hours minimum they implemented to receive the scholarship this semester.”

You felt the blood drain from your face, anxiety making your hands go shaky. “New community service hour minimum?” You asked, trying to understand what that was even referring to, because you knew nothing about the change in hours you were supposed to obtain.

“Yes, they upped the amount. A few other students have already called to complain about this situation, but the office for that particular scholarship said that they sent an email out last year to inform you guys about the new amount that would be needed.”

Email? You didn’t think that you ever received an email with any information about that. “Oh… okay… Uhm, I guess I’ll try and figure out what’s going on. Thank you.”

You hung up the phone and immediately opened up your email app and began to scour through any undeleted messages from last year that you might have overlooked. And after a few minutes of scrolling, there it was, sitting in the depths of your inbox like some monster that was going to destroy you. You clicked on it as some sort of masochistic gesture. You already knew what it was going to say, so you didn’t know why you were even bothering to read it. And yes, there it was, written in bold print at the bottom of the email. A message that relayed the raise in community service hours needed.

“Fuck my life!” You yelled, throwing a pillow over your face and screaming into it.

Living in a sorority or fraternity was different than living in a regular apartment or house that wasn’t associated with the university. Instead of paying a monthly amount like a normal living situation, in order to live on campus you had to pay the full amount for the semester up front. Which basically translated to needing to fork over a couple thousand dollars all at once. Which, unless you were rich or incredibly well disciplined at saving money, scholarships and loans were the only option. That had been one of the reasons Jungkook decided to live at an apartment this year instead of at Lambda Phi Epsilon.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” You continued to yell into your pillow until your bedroom door was suddenly swinging open; a concerned Sana standing before you.

“I’m sorry,” She said, walking to the side of your bed. “You totally could’ve been having sex in here, but the expletives sounded more like frustration than fun, so I wanted to make sure.”

“It’s beyond frustration. It’s devastation.” You threw your pillow across the room to make your point.

“What happened?” She asked as she sat next to you on your bed.

You took a heavy sigh and explained the entire financial aid situation to her, and ended with the consequence of your entire scholarship debacle. “So I’m not going to be able to stay here this semester. I’m gonna have to find a new place to live.”

Sana’s mouth dropped, hand twisting into her hair. “Seriously? You’ve gotta move out?”

You, Sana, and Jennie were best friends that had lived less than ten feet away from each other for the past three year, and you had all hoped for your final year to be the same. But hope was like that. It gave you so much to look forward to, only for it to end in a way that you didn’t at all expect. You had experienced that many times, unfortunately.

“Yeah, looks like it,” You whispered, arm coming up to cover your eyes.

“No, it’ll be okay.” She squeezed at your arm. “I’ll text around today and see if anyone knows about people needing roommates.”

“Thanks,” You said, offering a weak smile.

“It’s not even something to stress over honestly. It’s gonna work itself out.” You could tell Sana was trying to be upbeat for your sake.

You nodded, but there were other issues besides where you were going to live. “But something that is apparently not going to work itself out is the failed peace treaty between us and next door.”

Sana cocked her head to the side. “Wait… Did something happen? What did they do?” She sneered, having the same reaction as you from earlier this morning.

“Plastered boxers all over our house.” Sana was about to go on a rant, but you informed her of the whole story before she could. “Because some of the girls wrote shit in lipstick on their cars at Pub last night.”

“You’re kidding me?” She slammed her palm down on the bed. “Who was it? I’m gonna kick their asses.”

The image that brought to your head actually made you laugh, which you were thankful for. You needed some sort of humor in your life on this miserable day. “I have no idea. I got a call from Jungkook this morning about the boxers and ran outside. I haven’t even had the chance to try and figure out who did it.”

“Wait… You were already here?” She asked. “You weren’t at Hoseok’s.”

Oh yeah, you forgot Sana had left Pub last night expecting to not see you until some time later today when Hoseok brought you home. She still had no idea about Jungkook and that entire emotional disaster from last night.

“Yeah, about that…” You definitely weren’t going to hide what happened, but you decided that you were going to sugarcoat it a bit. You didn’t like talking about your insecurities, even with your friends, so you decided painting it in a more positive light was for the best, because relatively speaking that actually had been a less hostile conversation compared to others that you and Jungkook had experienced over the years. “Because my bank account got emptied out from the whole financial aid thing, I just felt like going home instead of over to Hoseok’s, but I also didn’t have any money to Uber, so… Jungkook walked me home.”

Sana’s eyes widened, hands cupping either side of her face. “What?!”

“Yeah, he offered to walk me home.” You shrugged, trying to make it seem as though it wasn’t a big deal, but you knew that was going to do nothing to stop the onslaught of questions about to be thrown at you.

“Wait, wait, wait, so did you guys talk? Did you argue the whole time? Was it just awkward and silent? Like tell me.” She moved closer to you on the bed, curiosity beaming off of her.

“It wasn’t, uhm, bad actually.” You sat up, avoiding as much eye contact as you could manage without looking like a complete liar. “We talked and cleared the air on things. It was… enlightening.” That wasn’t a total fib. Certain feelings had been revealed, and yes, that might have ended up with you crying, but in the grand scheme of things that was a totally miniscule detail, right?

Sana’s expression twisted into that of bewilderment. “...Enlightening? What does that even mean? What became enlightened?”

You shrugged, buying yourself time to try and think of some way to fumble through any sort of half decent explanation. “Just our feelings on everything that happened and how we felt. Nothing crazy.”

She squinted her eyes, finger tapping at her nose. “I feel like there’s something you’re not telling me.”

“There isn’t. We just understand each other a lot better now.” You knew the longer she pushed the higher the possibility of you cracking, so you decided to bring up the one thing that you knew would flood her mind with thoughts completely unrelated to you and Jungkook. “You’ll see at Kappa Sig tonight. We’re better with each other now.”

Pink flushed to Sana’s cheeks at the mere mention of Kappa Sig, because in her mind Kappa Sig directly correlated to one of its members; Kim Seokjin, or one of Yoongi’s good friends.

“I almost forgot about the party tonight,” Sana started. Mission success it seemed as she completely dropped the conversation from before. “Maybe love is in the air, and Jennie’s luck with Namjoon will rub off on me tonight with Jin.”

“Maybe it is.” You smiled.

Sana gave you a strange look at your response, and you weren’t sure why, but you didn’t get the chance to find out before she dropped the expression and moved on to something else.

“I’m gonna text Jennie and see when she thinks she’ll come home.” She began typing on her phone before looking back up at you. “You wanna go get lunch or something in a few hours? Get your mind off of the whole financial aid thing while we wait for the party tonight? My treat since you don’t have your refund back yet.”

“That actually sounds great.” Sana leaned in, hugging you before jumping from your bed and heading back to her room directly next to yours.

You fell back flat against your bed, eyes wandering around your room. The pictures plastered across your walls of all of your friends and family. Posters of your favorite shows and movies. You couldn’t help but think about how in a week or so this wasn’t going to be yours anymore.

Where you were going to wind up at in the end, well, that was a complete mystery.

———

JUNGKOOK’S POV

Jungkook climbed into Jimin’s truck, slamming the door behind him. He pressed his forehead against the dashboard, palms pressing at his temples to try and relieve even the tiniest amount of stress that was currently running amok through his head.

Jimin jumped into the driver’s seat a minute later, whistling at the sight of his friend in such a rough position. “You good, man?” He asked.

“Do I look good?” Jungkook asked, sitting up against the seat. “I’ve gotta find a new roommate in the next week, act like a goddamn babysitter between forty-two grown adults, and worry about Y/N storming around the Lambda house now apparently.” He paused, clenching his hands into fists. “So, no, I’m not good.”

“Kook, just take it easy.” Jimin reached over, squeezing at his friend’s shoulder. “There’s gonna be a ton of people at that party tonight, and I guarantee you at least one person there needs a place to stay or at the very least knows someone who does.”

Jungkook nodded because he agreed that there were always people looking for places to stay. “What about the other two things?”

“Oh, you’re fucked on those. I don’t know what to tell you.” Jimin laughed as he hit the gear into reverse.

“You sound surprisingly calm about that, considering the chapter will be suspended if me and Y/N don’t figure out a way to make things okay between everyone.”

Jimin shrugged as he pulled out of the driveway. “If I had come out last night and seen my truck covered in lipstick, would I have been pissed? Sure. But, I would’ve just told you so that you could tell Y/N, and she could deal with it. The fact is, that’s how I am, but everyone’s different and you two can’t control that many people without some sort of miracle.”

Jungkook sighed, banging his head back against the headrest. “A miracle, huh?”

“Yeah, a straight up miracle,” He repeated as he drove past the Tri Delt house that was no longer covered in boxers.

Jungkook’s eyes drifted to the far right window on the second story, a small twinge budding inside of his chest. Words from that night almost two years ago pushed their way to the surface as they never failed to do.

“It’s nothing that you did… I’ve just been having these… thoughts.”

“Thoughts? What, thoughts of cheating on me? Of being with other people?”

“No! I mean, it’s not how you’re thinking. It’s just… You’re the only person I’ve ever dated, Y/N, and I don’t know if…”

“Oh, I’ll finish it for you, Jungkook. You don’t know if there’s someone better. Just fucking say it instead of going around it like you have been for months now.”

“I don’t think there’s someone better. I’m not ending this because I met someone else. I’m ending this because I can’t look at you and say I love you everyday when I’m having these thoughts, because it just doesn’t seem right. And I’m not saying that I don’t love you. I still do, but that doesn’t stop me from having these feelings of doubt about whether this is the last relationship I ever wanna have, when it’s the only one I’ve ever been in. I can’t just sit there and look at you when I know I’m thinking these things. I can’t do that because I care about you so fucking much, even if you’re looking at me right now like you hate me. I don’t want you to hate me.”

Jungkook wished he could permanently scrub that night from his head. There was so much crying, so much blame, so much anguish, from having to end things with someone that he truly did love. He hadn’t stopped loving you. That wasn’t why he broke up with you. He ended things because he wanted to be sure that the one experience that he’d ever had was the right one. And he knew when he took that risk that he could be throwing away something that was perfect. But he couldn’t be sure until he knew.

He had dated a few people in the two years since that night, and he had found some great relationships with some great girls — but nothing that had lasted. None of them ever felt as if he could see himself with them for years and years to come, and wasn’t that the whole point of dating? And of course, he couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like if he had never ended things with you. He thought about it every time he saw you actually. You wouldn’t know that, and no one around him would know that, because there was always something hostile coming out of someone’s mouth. Jungkook had hurt you, and he understood that, but it still didn’t excuse some of the things that you had accused him of over the years, and after a month or so he had gotten tired of playing polite and matched your antagonism; insult for insult, sneer for sneer.

He wasn’t sure if they could ever fully reconcile. The words had been said and there was no taking them back. He thought last night was actually a step in the right direction, with you revealing why you acted the way that you did. But still, he wasn’t sure if things could ever be civil between the two of you. The embitterment ran so deep on both sides that it seemed almost impossible to even try.

Jungkook remained lost in these thoughts when through his haze he heard Jimin speak a name that had him fearing for half a second that his friend could read his thoughts.

“Y/N?” Jungkook asked.

“Yeah, what actually happened last night?” Jimin glanced over, one brow arched.

“Uhm, what do you mean?”

“When I asked about why you were at the house and not at your apartment, you looked at Y/N.” Jimin slapped one hand to his chest. “Don’t think I didn’t notice.”

Well, he had only looked at her for all of half a second, so yeah, he had kind of hoped that no one would notice. But unfortunately, someone did, and that happened to be his nosy ass best friend.

“Y/N got stuck at Pub last night with no ride because financial aid fucked up her refund, and she couldn’t get a ride, so I walked her home. That’s it.” Which was true. He had done exactly that, but simply failed to mention the crying and sentimental admissions.

“So why didn’t you just say that when I asked?”

Jungkook ran a hand through his hair. He really didn’t want to reveal any of the details from what you’d told him last night, but he knew Jimin wasn’t going to stop asking until he at least told him something of substance. “Because there were other people in the hall listening, and I didn’t want them getting the same ideas as you right now.”

Jimin smirked. “Oh yeah, and what am I thinking?”

Jungkook shook his head, turning to look out of the window. “I’m not even gonna say it.”

“Any talk of feelings or gushy bullshit?” Jimin chuckled, clearly joking, but Jungkook hesitated before answering, and that was all his friend needed to assume whatever theory was being crafted inside of his head. “Oh, Jesus, did you guys actually talk about your feelings? Oh my god, did you guys kiss? Fuck?” Jimin was looking at Jungkook frantically now, like he needed the answers to the questions being proposed in his favorite TV show.

“You’re truly the biggest gossip I’ve ever met.” He leaned back in his seat, arms crossed over his chest as Jimin pulled into his apartment complex. “It’s sad.”

“Your lack of answers is making me lean towards you guys fucking. And if that happened,” He let go of the steering wheel for a second to motion at his head as if it was exploding. “I’m gonna lose my goddamn mind. Like I get it, sex is sex, but after everything she’s said about you since you guys broke up, I just…” He trailed off, shaking his head in disappointment like he had already decided that the two of you had definitely hooked up.

“She said that shit in the beginning because I made her feel terrible about herself, so she wanted to make me feel terrible too. I’m not saying that it’s right, but at this point we’ve both said shit we regret and didn’t mean.” He tried to make it seem more casual by shrugging. “And we didn’t sleep together. Chill out.”

Jimin’s expression was skeptical as he pulled into the parking space in front of Jungkook’s building and unlocked the doors. “Still, something definitely happened, because otherwise you would be talking about how she was acting like a bitch, but you’re not, which means that you weren’t acting like an asshole, which in turn means that something went down, because the last time the two of you were anything less than pissy to each other was when you were still dating.”

Jungkook simply placed a hand on Jimin’s shoulder, forcing a smile. “Your conspiracies are unmatched, my friend.” And then he was climbing out of the truck, shutting the door, and waving his friend goodbye without even looking back.

However, that didn’t stop Jimin from rolling down his window as he began to back out of the parking space, throwing his final sentiment to the wind. “You guys getting back together was the kind of miracle I was talking about.”

———-

It was currently ten p.m. and the scene on Greek Drive was about two dozen or so Tri Delts making their way towards the most well known party frat on campus; Kappa Sigma.

Kappa Sig was the blueprint for the types of fraternities that you see in various movies or TV shows. There was never a time when your shoes weren’t sticking to the wooden floors due to the constant barrage of alcohol being spilled by various drunken patrons. Each member had an actual mini bar set up in the corner of their room, which in the next few weeks, once football and tailgating started up, would be the most popular place to score some free drinks — if you were a girl that is. Kappa Sig was also fairly stereotypically frat in who it allowed entrance into its castle of alcohol and sex. Basically, if you were a girl, you were good. If you were a guy, well it was complicated. Usually it was a no go, or you were asked to pay such a ridiculously high cover at the door that no one in their right mind would pay it, or the easiest way: have a friend who had sway within the house.

So fortunately for you, Sana, Jennie, and the rest of the Tri Delts, it was a non-issue. However, unfortunately, Yoongi, a good friend of yours and Jungkook’s, happened to be the president of Kappa Sig, and therefore Lambdas were allowed free reign. No cover charge and no being turned away, which meant tonight was bound to be interesting.

“Jennie, hold my hand until we get there.” Sana didn’t even wait for a response and instead opted to simply interlock their fingers. “I need good luck in the crushes-actually-approaching-and-showing-interest department.”

Jennie laughed, swinging their arms back and forth between them. “Well if you can get even half my luck, it should be a good night for you.”

“Oh, wow. Way to brag, bitch,” Sana said, throwing a hand over her heart. “We’ve got Mrs. Already Dick Whipped over here.”

“I am not!” Jennie yelled. “He just…”

“Lasted longer than sixty seconds?” You finished for her with a purse of your lips.

She pointed at you. “That he fucking did. That and so, so much more.”

Sana groaned next to the two of you. “Ugh, I want that. I haven’t had good sex in months.”

“Well, even if things don’t happen with Jin tonight, there’s gonna be plenty of guys here,” You tried to remind her.

“Uh yeah, lots of Lambda guys,” She reminded you right back.

You shrugged. You didn’t like that it had become this sort of unwritten rule that Tri Delts and Lambdas couldn’t get together, but when everyone was pranking or fucking with each other’s stuff, it was kind of difficult to look past that just for the sake of a hookup.

“Well, Kappa Sig boys for you tonight it is then.” You motioned towards the top of the driveway, the party seemingly already completely started.

The music was blaring and there was a fairly long line of people waiting to get in, but it only took a couple minutes for you to move through the line and pass over the threshold and into the scene of dimmed lights, packed bodies, and endless alcohol.

You knew you had a lot of things to worry about, but after the absolutely horrendous two days that you’d had to endure, between suspension threats, disastrous house meetings, crying in front of your ex, the boxer and lipstick fiasco, and financial aid meltdowns, you just wanted to be able to relax and have fun for a single night. You didn’t think that was too much to ask for, and the vodka bottle currently staring at you from the kitchen, seemed to be calling you and saying they were the perfect place to start in order to make that fun, relaxing night come true.

Once everyone got into the house, the girls broke up into their mini groups of close friends. You motioned to Sana and Jennie to follow you to the kitchen so you could get some drinks. It took some effort but the three of you eventually managed to make your way through the crowd that couldn’t bother to idle anywhere else besides around the counter of various alcohols and plastic cups. Each of you quickly made a sufficiently strong cup of vodka combined with whatever random mixers were available.

“Okay, now let’s find a comfy couch that isn’t covered in vomit stains to camp out on and get plastered.” You pointed towards the living room, where a majority of the party goers were.

“A couch without vomit stains?” Jennie clicked her tongue. “That’s a tall order for Kappa Sig.”

“Indeed.” Sana giggled, pointing towards some of the few empty places to sit in the back corner.

You made your way over there, exchanging hellos with a few people that you knew before plopping down on the couch, all three of you spilling a few splashes of your drinks on each other; not even a drop of alcohol in your systems yet.

“Well this is a great start.” You laughed, taking a large gulp from your cup that had you grimacing. “Jesus, this cheap ass Pinnacle. Come on, KS, get your shit together.”

“Well excuse the fuck out of me.” The voice came from someone you recognized immediately.

You turned around, a wide grin plastered across your face. “It’s okay Yoongi. I still love you even though you’re making us suffer with cheap booze.”

He sauntered over, sitting down on the armchair beside you. “Well, you’re lucky you’re one of my very good friends or I wouldn’t bless you with my own personal stash.” His smile was devilish as he pulled up a bottle of Tito's vodka.”

There was a collective gasp from you and friends. “Wow, keeping the good shit all to yourself.”

“Hey, didn’t I just say I was gonna help you out?” He twisted the cop off and motioned for the three of you to hold your cups out, and one by one he filled your cups up to the very top. “Be wise with this power, friends.”

“You know, Yoongi,” Sana said from across the couch. “I’d be totally willing to not take advantage of your hospitalities if you’d wanna help me out in another department.”

“Jesus, Sana!” You already knew where she was going with this. “You’re willing to drink rubbing alcohol instead of Tito’s just to get a good word in to Jin?”

Sana simply shrugged, zero shame in her methods.

Yoongi laughed. “Put a good word in? I’ll see what I can do.”

“Appreciate it.” She raised her cup to his and they cheered in the hopeful union of Sana of Jin.

Yoongi opened his mouth to speak, but something near the front of his house caught his eye. “Also, can we try to have no brawls in the house tonight?”

“Huh?” You were confused until you followed his line of sight, a mob of Lambda boys entering the house one by one; Jungkook leading them all.

“No fighting,” Yoongi reiterated. “Or no more Tito’s for you.”

You rolled your eyes, taking a sip from your drink that was currently ninety percent vodka. “You haven’t heard? We’re cordial now.”

“Cordial? A Greek Drive miracle, I guess.” He stood up from the armchair and motioned towards the guys. “I’m gonna go say hey to Kook.”

You nodded. “Okay, I’ll catch up with you later.”

Yoongi had managed to stay good friends with both you and Jungkook throughout this entire process. You hated the fact that the three of you never got to hang out together anymore because of the tension between you and Jungkook, but, hey, that was life.

“Don’t forget our deal, Yoongi!” Sana shouted as he started across the living room.

“I got you, girl. But just so you know our bedrooms are right next to each other so be mindful.” He lowered his hands to the ground, silently saying to keep the volume down.

“You’re the best!” She said, kissing her hand and throwing it out to the party host.

“Someone might be getting lucky after all.” You squeezed at her thigh before standing up. “So while you celebrate that, I’m gonna put more mixer in this drink so I don’t blackout by midnight.”

“You act like you don’t do that every other week.” Jennie laughed.

You squinted at her. “Rude.”

“Love you,” She said, making a heart shape with her hands as you made your way back towards the kitchen.

You gave small smiles as you passed more people that you knew that had just arrived at the party. You glanced towards the door, the Lambda boys still congregating there. You couldn’t help your eyes from catching on Jungkook. He was standing there, grinning at everyone who approached him. He was the type that could be friends with anyone. A bright light that everyone gravitated towards, that no one ever found boring. You bit the inside of your cheek at the gnawing though that never failed to enter your head anytime you saw him. And it was like he could sense that pull, because then he was looking at you, giving a small nod of acknowledgment.

A tiny, insignificant nod. At its very best, that was what your relationship was now, and that made you feel incredibly empty.

You screwed your eyes shut for a second, shaking your head, trying to force those things from your head as you finally made it to the kitchen and poured a little bit of the first soda you could reach into your cup; just a little bit.

And the party continued on like that for the next hour or two. Laughing and smiling with your friends and then hunting Yoongi down to steal some of his personal alcohol, all while catching random glances of Jungkook. It was fun and your buzz was well in effect by the time it was once again the moment to go find Yoongi.

You asked Sana, who was currently talking to Jin in the corner of the living room, if she had seen him. Apparently a very good word has been put in and two seemed to be hitting it off.

“He went out back.” She motioned towards the sliding glass door.

You offered a hum of thanks and left them to mingle alone as you made your way to the door and pulled it open. You searched the tiny groups of people that were standing around, not able to find Yoongi anywhere until you noticed two occupied chairs sitting in the distance. One was Yoongi and the other… Well, of course it just had to be Jungkook.

You took a deep breath, taking a sip of your drink before walking out to the secluded area beneath the giant tree where they were chatting. You did a little run in the last few feet of approaching them before kneeling down next to Yoongi’s lawn chair. his body slightly hiding Jungkook’s.

“Hello, my spirit bearing friend.”

“And if it isn’t the spirit stealer herself,” Yoongi said as he grabbed your cup and poured a shot or two inside. “I already had to get another handle of Tito’s from my room. You’re killing me tonight.”

“It was a bad day.” You poked your bottom lip out as an apology. “I’m sorry.”

“It couldn’t have been that bad.” He motioned towards your cup that he had filled up multiple times already tonight.

“Well, I fucked up something with one of my scholarships, so now I’ve gotta find a place to live by the end of next week because I can’t afford to stay in the Tri Delt house.” You shrugged, the alcohol making the daunting situation seem less serious than it actually was. “So yeah, bad day.”

“Are you serious?” Yoongi said at the same time that Jungkook leaned forward with this concerned look on his face before saying, “Wait, what?”

“No… It’s, uhm, fine.” You glanced at the ground and began awkwardly scratching at your temple. “I don’t wanna ruin the mood for tonight. I’m gonna start looking for roommates tomorrow, so if either of you guys know of anyone.” You pointed your cup towards both of them with a shrug, trying to make it seem casual.

Yoongi nodded, and then suddenly a smile was creeping across his face. You knew that expression well. It was the expression he’d made when you were all sixteen and drunk and decided that going to the rope swing down by the lake (the alligator infested lake) in the dead of night was a perfectly sane idea. Or when it was your senior year prom and he convinced you and Jungkook that an impromptu beach trip a few hours away would be fun, and it might actually have been if any of you had thought about money, hotel reservations, or just any sort of planning in general, but you didn’t, so it essentially became a three drive only to end up at a Denny’s in a beach town instead of your hometown. The point was, you had seen that expression many, many times, and it was one that he made when a bad, impulsive idea started creeping through that brain of his.

“Whatever it is, no,” You said as you pushed some of the leaves and sticks off of the grass so you could sit down.

“You don’t even know what I’m gonna say!” He exclaimed. “It’s a brilliant idea actually.”

“Yeah, we know that face anywhere.” Jungkook moved his chair forward slightly so that the three of you were now sitting in a triangle, facing one another. “Ideas that come from that face are never brilliant.”

Yoongi smacked his lips. “Well, that’s offensive.”

“What’s offensive is almost getting eaten by alligators because you convinced us by using bogus gator attack statistics,” You pointed out, and Jungkook chuckled at the memory.

“But, we didn’t get eaten, so it’s fine.” He shrugged.

“Whatever.” You rolled your eyes. “So what’s this plan cooking in your head right now?”

The devilish expression returned once more as he began looking back and forth between you and Jungkook. Oh, this was not good.

“Well, you said that you need a place to stay, right?”

“...Right,” You said hesitantly, not completely sure where this was going until he turned his sights towards Jungkook; the phone call you’d overheard from earlier in the day flashing through your mind.

“Yoongi, you idiot—” You started to say, but he was already spewing the other half of his grand plan.

“And Jungkook needs a roommate!” He shouted, clapping his hands together like he’d just invented the surefire way to cure a hangover. “It’s perfect!”

There was a pause between the group, complete silence save from the chatting going on closer to the house — and then there was uncontrollable laughter. You and Jungkook doubled over at the most ridiculous proposal that you’d ever heard in your entire lives.

Because it was totally ridiculous… Right?

“Why are you guys laughing?” Yoongi asked, looking genuinely confused. “That solves literally all of your problems.”

You caught the tear that was escaping out of the corner of your eye. “Yeah, it’s a great idea in theory Yoongi, if me and Jungkook didn’t have issues.”

“I mean you guys are sitting here right now with each other.” He motioned between the two of you. “And there’s no fighting going on like there usually is. Plus, you said your houses were cordial now. I thought that meant you guys too.”

You and Jungkook glanced at each other, the amused smiles from Yoongi’s scheme faltering slightly. It had been a long time since you guys had been like this with each other. There was the talk after Pub last night and now you were here, just sitting and laughing with a mutual old friend. It was nice, you had to admit. But living together? That was just totally absurd.

“Yoongi, that’s…” Jungkook trailed off, shaking his head, but not saying anything concrete. “And it doesn’t actually solve all of our problems… Our houses aren’t as cordial as we were hoping they’d be, even after we told them about President Kwon’s suspension threat.” You had texted Yoongi about the suspension fiasco yesterday and you were sure that Jungkook had done the same.

“Wow, your members really are fucking idiots.” Yoongi laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. “You guys have way more pull than you realize.”

Your brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

Yoongi held one finger up as he sipped from his cup, like he was about to drop some serious knowledge on the two presidents who had no control over their houses. “College kids are like toddlers. They need guidance. Before you guys were sort of like their big brother and sister whose lead they followed because they liked you and thought you were cool — that’s how you guys became presidents after all. Which means now you’re essentially like their parents.”

You snorted at the idea, but it wasn’t the craziest analogy. You remembered when you were a freshman and first joined Tri Delt. The president back then felt like this motherly figure who you could go to for anything. It was hard for you to think that other people now saw you that way, but maybe they did and you hadn’t fully noticed yet.

“You’re laughing, but I’m serious,” Yoongi started again. “Okay, so you guys told them they needed to get their shit together, right?”

You and Jungkook both nodded.

“And like I said, you guys are like their parents — their divorced parents who they respect but feel the need to defend depending on whose side they're on.”

Again, you and Jungkook just looked at each other, a tiny piece of understanding falling into place. You and him had just been two people who didn’t work out. You thought it was a simple issue, but you just never realized what the consequences of that would be. People choosing sides. Defending each other’s actions. Getting even.

It was a mess. A mess that needed to be fixed somehow.

“Well that’s nice to know,” Jungkook said, breaking you from your thoughts. “But it doesn’t actually help us fix anything.”

That was true. Just because you knew why everyone had so easily fallen into this feud didn’t change the fact that something needed to change. Something had to be done… And as you glanced over at Yoongi, his expression that signaled bad ideas returned once more. It let you know that he had an idea or two about what could be done.

“Well, maybe you guys could reverse the divorce.” He shrugged.

It took you a second to grasp what he was trying to say, and then you were sputtering and ripping the bottle of vodka from your friend’s hand. “You’re cut off.”

Jungkook scoffed, an incredulous look adorning his features as well. “Seriously, what the fuck did you smoke, dude?”

“Nothing!” He grabbed the bottle back from your hand. “Strictly liquor tonight.”

“Like the roommate idea was one thing—” Jungkook started.

“Oh!” Yoongi cut him off. “So you didn’t think Y/N moving in was the worst idea ever.”

“I… I…” His mouth was closing and opening, like he truly didn’t know what to say. “Like as a last option it wouldn’t be the end of the world.”

“What?!” You said, a little louder than you’d intended, but you couldn’t help it. He was actually considering the idea of the two of you moving in together? “Us? Living in the same house?”

Jungkook shrugged. “I mean it’s better than you being homeless and me being broke.”

Your head was spinning, and you didn’t know if it was from the alcohol or that this insane idea was actually being proposed in a semi-serious manner.

“See, this is perfect!” Yoongi sat the glass bottle down on the grass and reached out to grab at yours and Jungkook’s arms, yanking you closer together. “Just pretend to get back together. If you just said it, no one would probably believe you, but if you guys actually move in together, no one would think that you’d go that far just to get everyone to stop fighting. The Great Greek Ruse! It would be the best story of all time!”

This was crazy. This was absolutely fucking crazy, and you knew Yoongi was half-joking with all of this, but you could tell that there was little bit of hope gleaming off of his eyes.

You grabbed Yoongi’s face on either side, forcing him to look at you. “You. Are. Fucking. Plastered.” You said each word slowly and deliberately to try and penetrate through the haze of drunkenness to get to the part of him that held actual common sense.

“Yes, I am in fact plastered.” He grabbed your wrists, his excitement only seeming to multiply. “But I would argue that the most logical solutions to problems come from being drunk. There’s no hesitation that an idea seems ridiculous, because everything seems less ridiculous when you're fucked up.”

You fisted your hands through your hair. “You’re crazy. Literally crazy. Jungkook, tell him he’s crazy.” You looked at him for confirmation, but he just sat there, pursing his lips like he was… thinking. Like he was actually considering it. “Are you serious?”

He threw his hands up in a defensive position. “No, it’s completely crazy. It’s just… Do you have any better ideas?”

“I can’t believe we’re even talking about this right now.” You scoffed, falling back flat against the grass and throwing your hands over your face. “Even if we did try to be that stupid and lie to everyone, they would never in a million fucking years believe that we would ever get back together. We fought in front of them literally yesterday!”

You peeked through your fingers and Jungkook held an expression that made it seem like he wasn’t so sure that was true. “I don’t know about that. All I did earlier was tell Jimin that we talked last night and two seconds later he had gone off on some tangent about how disappointed he was in me for sleeping with you again — and I corrected him that we didn’t, by the way.”

“Oh, fuck Jimin then,” You hissed, going off topic from this insane fake dating ruse.

“Come on, you know how it is. Sana and Jennie would act the same way. It’s like Yoongi said, the Lambdas defend me and the Tri Delts defend you. That’s literally how this entire mess started.”

You sighed, sitting back up and raking any stray pieces of grass out of your hair. You didn’t say anything, because you truly didn’t know what the correct response was. Sure, you knew that you needed to figure out a way to not get your chapters suspended… But this idea of pretending to get back together? You tried to imagine the reactions, but you just couldn’t, because again, this was fucking absurd. You were about to verbally reiterate this point once more when Jungkook continued.

“Look, all I’m saying is that when we broke up they saw how bad our relationship got and they decided to defend us. Maybe if we pretended to get back together, just for a little bit, they’d finally back off because the entire reason they started fighting in the first place wouldn’t even be an issue anymore.” Jungkook shrugged. He fucking shrugged.

“Do you even understand what pretending to get back together entails?” You began waving your hands around and pointing at your head, because maybe it would help get the point across somehow. “It means acting like we actually want to be together in public. It means no flirting or going home with people on campus or at parties because someone we know might see us. Would you actually be willing to go through that much effort?”

There was a pause and Jungkook just stared at you for a second, and then he started… smiling. This small, sad sort of smile. “What could it hurt to try?”

You scoffed, and scoffed, and scoffed, because you just couldn’t form words. You had explained it as best as you could, but neither he nor Yoongi seemed to get it. This meant… hugging, touching, kissing, just to prove to people that this was real. That you weren’t lying. That you wanted to be with him… And that he wanted to be with you.

You knew you hadn’t said anything in a minute or so, just lost in the details and implications of this scheme. You were only brought back to reality by Yoongi, speaking his piece once again. “Y/N,” He started, his voice quieter than it had been when he was excitedly explaining the idea before, “The worst thing that happens is they don’t believe you. But if you actually pull this off, you guys could save your chapters.”

Your mouth went firm and straight. The worst thing that could happen was the members not believing you? You had to stifle a laugh as you glanced towards Jungkook. No, that definitely wasn’t the worst thing that could happen. Not by a long shot. You knew why Jungkook didn’t see this as a terrible idea. He had nothing to lose, but you did.

However, in the end, you thought maybe the risk was worth it. Maybe this fucked up scheme could save you guys somehow.

“Uhm,” You finally started, clearing your throat to try and push your emotions back down into your chest. “So in the scenario that we actually tried this ridiculous plan… How would we go about telling everyone?”

You were staring at the ground, so you didn’t see what expression Jungkook’s face shifted into. You weren’t sure you wanted to know. Was it relief from having a shot at mending the relationship with your members? Or was it regret from you feeding into this idea that he hadn’t actually been taking seriously?

“Well,” Jungkook started, and you still refused to look at him. “First of all, did you say anything about our talk last night to anyone?”

“Not really. I told Sana that it was ‘enlightening,’ and basically said the same to Jennie. What about you?”

“I told Jimin that we talked about our feelings.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that. “I’m sure he took that very well.”

“He was surprised…” Jungkook paused. “And I think that’s a good thing.”

You finally turned to look at him. “Why’s that a good thing?”

He stood up from his chair and held his hand out to you. You just stared at it for a second, confused at the kindness of the gesture before grabbing it and letting him help you up. He didn’t drop your hand even after you were standing up right, less than a foot of space separating you.

“Because I think if our best friends look genuinely shocked by what we’re about to do, then it might be a lot more believable.”

Your face twisted in confusion. “Uhm, what’re we about to do?”

Jungkook pursed his lips, hesitant as he opened his mouth to reveal what he was thinking. “I think if we’re gonna pull this off, we need to… show them, not tell them.” It was instant, the way your hand trembled in his. Immediately he was squeezing around your fingers, silently trying to reassure you. “We don’t have to do this. It’s probably not even gonna work… But again, it’s just something to try.”

You knew you didn’t have to do this. You knew it was probably smarter not to do this. But some small part of you wanted to do this. Some stupidly hopeful part of you.

You sucked a deep breath in through your nose and gave your bottom lip one hard, painful bite. “Fuck it, Kook.” You shifted your hand in his and interlocked your fingers. “Let’s do this.”

His eyes widened, the nickname slipping past your lips like the past two years never even existed. And then he was smiling, this pleasantly surprised smile that you hadn’t seen directed at you in what felt like an eternity.

“I know it was my idea, but I can’t believe this is actually about to happen.” Yoongi was standing next to the two of you, hands holding either side of his face, like he was about to witness the ruse of the century.

“Ready?” Jungkook asked.

“I guess I am.” You shrugged, motioning towards the house. “Let’s do this.”

“Deep breath,” He said before inhaling, and you followed without hesitation.

“Deep breath.” You nodded after you let the air slide past your lips.

And then he was pulling you towards the house, hand in hand, the only thing keeping you from devolving into a panic attack was the way he kept squeezing your hand.

You were approaching the fractured groups of people that stood outside of the sliding glass door, and all it took was one person to notice the two of you, and then suddenly people were pointing and staring, confused expressions appearing like a line of dominos, but you didn’t see any Lambdas or Tri Delts yet thankfully. Though, you knew that wasn’t going to last very long.

You ignored the attention as best as you could as Jungkook opened the door and led you in through the back of the house.

“So what exactly are we gonna do?” You whispered to him as you got closer to the living room; the main room of the house, with the most prying eyes.

He slowed his walk and dropped your hand before placing his palm on your lower back as he continued to usher you forward into the wild circus the two of you were about to create.

“I’m…” He paused as he pushed through the brush of people blocking the hallway until you were standing in the heart of the party. The lights in the house were all dimmed, but you still felt as though there was a bright, blinding spotlight on the two of you.

“You’re gonna what?” You asked, looking around to find Lambdas and Tri Delts lounging in every corner. You started to fidget, wringing your hands and gritting your teeth until you felt someone lightly grabbing your jaw and forcing you to look at them.

“I’m gonna kiss you,” He whispered, hand dropping to cup the side of your face. “I’m gonna kiss you right now, okay?”

Your eyes widened a little, mouth parting. You knew earlier that was what he’d probably meant when he said to ‘show them,’ but now that you were actually here in the moment, with him so close to your face that you could feel his breath hitting your skin… You were freezing up.

“I’m going to,” He said, leaning in closer. “If you changed your mind just push me back, because I’m really about to kiss you.”

A small voice in your head replied that you really wanted him to, as sad as that was. But you kept that thought to yourself as you closed your eyes and said, “Do it.”

His gaze dropped to your mouth and then he closed the gap, a gap that hadn’t been closed in over two years. His lips warm and soft, just like you remembered, suddenly pressing against your own. His hand slid to the back of your neck, the other coming to rest on your hip, the familiar motion in familiar places tugging your fingers like a magnet until they were twisting at the front of his shirt.

You knew that this kiss needed to be believable. It couldn’t be over the top, like you were trying to put on a show, but it also couldn’t be stiff, like the two of you were forcing it. Which technically, you were forcing it. It was pre-planned and clinical… But it didn’t feel that way.

You knew every tilt of his head before he decided to move, every light brush of his tongue before it met your own, every touch of his thumb before it grazed along the column of your throat. You knew everything. You remembered everything. And you wished you could say that there was at least one thing that was different. You wished you could say that when he hummed against your mouth, your stomach didn’t twist. But unfortunately, you couldn’t say that. Because it didn’t just twist — it warped into this undistinguishable, untangleable shape; one that you didn’t think anyone could ever hope to be able to unravel.

It was getting tighter and tighter, tying a knot around your lungs. You thought you’d have to pull away, gasp for air, and maybe ruin this whole charade the two of you were putting on, but all you needed to do was try and focus a little less on Jungkook kissing and touching you, and you’d be able to hear the buzzing chatter that was already surround you on all sides. Your names being shouted in unison breaking you apart.

You pulled back, breath heavy and uneven as you stared at his mouth, and you were at the very least happy that he looked just as uneasy, his eyes dark and hooded and reflecting something that you couldn’t pinpoint. But you weren’t able to just sit there and stare at him forever. You had to face the consequences of what you’d done, and when you turned to face the congregating mob of Lambdas and Tri Delts, complete shock resting on every single one of their faces, you knew this wasn’t going to be easy.

“Y/N?!” People were shouting your name, dozens of them, and you couldn’t tell who they were, but your eyes were locking with two particular people whose voices pulled you straight to them; Sana and Jennie.

“Jungkook, what the hell?!” Someone else said in the distance.

“Okay, literally what the fuck is going on?” Everyone was saying something along these lines to the point that it was just a sea of expletives and confusion, but it was Jimin suddenly climbing on top of the one of the couches that caught the entire room’s attention.

“I fucking knew it!” He yelled, shirt half-unbuttoned and clearly intoxicated as he jumped up and down on the cushions. “I knew something happened with you two last night, you bitch ass liar!” The upside to that proclamation was that it made this entire scene seem a whole hell of a lot more believable.

“What happened last night?” Jennie asked, concern embedded in her features as she and Sana pushed to the front of the crowd.

You couldn’t blame them for these over the top reactions, especially your best friends. They figured that you would tell them anything, and you would. If you actually managed to pull off this ruse, you were going to tell Sana and Jennie the details immediately. But you had to admit, Jungkook was right. Having your best friends raw reactions was making this seem more realistic and not as far-fetched.

You glanced at Jungkook for a second, giving a small nod that said they were just going to have to improvise this as best as they could.

“We… There was more to the talk last night than I told you,” You said, finally responding back to the random questions being thrown in every direction.

“Yeah, I wanted to tell you, Jimin,” Jungkook started. “But it happened so suddenly, and I knew a lot of you guys weren’t going to understand, so we wanted to talk about how we were going to go about telling you guys about this,” He said as he grabbed your hand and interlaced your fingers once more. The small gesture had people gasping as if that was more damning than making out.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Sana rattled off, hands tangling in her hair like her head was about to overheat. “You guys are back together? Y/N, you didn’t say shit about this when I talked to you this morning.”

“I… we’re not back together… yet.” You squeezed his hand, silently telling him that you knew what you were doing. You thought saying you were completely back together was less believable than saying the two of you were simply talking again. “We’re just working through things, and I didn’t wanna jinx it when I was talking to you this morning, but I was going to tell you.”

You could see the hurt flashing through her eyes at you not telling her the truth, even though it wasn’t actually the truth. You wanted to pull her in and apologize, but she would know the actual circumstances soon enough.

“This is in-fucking-sane,” Taehyung said as he also stepped to the front. “Talking? If you’re doing that, you’re basically already back together.”

“Fuck, is that why you got pissed at me for making that comment about Y/N this morning, Kook?” Baekhyun shouted from the back. “I’m sorry, man. I didn’t know!”

This was actually going a lot better than you had anticipated. All of these tiny coincidences of what you had told your friends or the way the two of you had acted since yesterday were building up to be a pretty convincing lie.

“You’re fine,” Jungkook shrugged. “You didn’t know — but now you do.” That last part came out a little more harsh; a believable act from the Lambda president.

“I just don’t get it,” Joy said from somewhere in the middle of the crowd. “You just called him a lying piece of shit literally yesterday.”

Your jaw clenched. This was the part that had worried you the most, the fact that only yesterday the two of you had portrayed a relationship that wasn’t even slightly cordial, and now you were trying to say you had jumped right back into almost being in a relationship? It was a leap, but you were going to have to convince them to take the jump.

“I know I said that,” You started, clearing your throat to try and sound louder and more confident. “But I only said that because I was feeling hurt. We ran into each other after everything that happened yesterday and apologized. We ended up hanging out the entire night and texting all day today, and… and we talked about things that we haven’t talked about in a really, really long time.” That part was true at least. “Honestly, we weren’t going to say anything for a while, because we thought it would be too sudden for you guys, but we’ve been drinking and we kind of just forgot about how you guys might react. I’m sorry it happened like this.”

Everyone was quiet for a second. You looked around and found a slew of people that belonged to neither house recording this entire debacle. You weren’t sure where the two of you should go from here. Should the two of you stay together for the rest of the night or should you go talk to your friends? You didn’t know the best route to take. However, you and Jungkook had to be the luckiest people in the entire world, because you had a friend like Yoongi, who not only gave you ideas that were so crazy that they just might work, but also could get you out of any hiccups that his said crazy plans might run into.

“So everyone knows about the happy couple now?” Yoongi threw his arms around you and Jungkook, a beaming smile staring out at the crowd of stunned Tri Delts and Lambdas. “Perfect, because I’m shit at keeping secrets.”

“Wait, you knew?” Jennie asked.

“Yeah, they were both texting me this morning about all of their gross, mushy feelings.” He faked a gag for good measure. “You guys know I’m friends with both of them so they wanted an impartial opinion. Plus, as their very good friend I’ve wanted them to get back together since they broke up, so I may have pushed them along in the right direction.” You weren’t sure if that was what Yoongi actually felt or if he was just saying it for whatever reason. Either way, you were actually happy because it was only adding to the air of believability. “So instead of standing there like you’re devastated, maybe seem happy for this newly rekindled love?”

“Give us a minute,” Johnny said, his tall head poking up from the crowd in the back. “We’re in shock.”

You finally let yourself look at Jungkook again. He was already waiting for you with a small upward tilt of his lips. To everyone else it probably just looked like a smile between two people who were reconciling, but to you it was a sign of victory. The two of you did it. They believed you — at least for now.

“Okay, can we at least talk to you in private?” Sana asked, now that the crowd was starting to disperse to simmer over this newfound information.

“Yeah, let’s talk.” You nodded and then turned to whisper into Jungkook’s ear. “I’m telling them the truth, but no one else.”

“Yeah, I’m telling Jimin and that’s it,” He murmured.

“Okay,” You said and then quickly pressed a small peck to his lips before dropping his hand and immediately getting dragged away by your friends before you could say a single word.

You spent the next half hour explaining to them every detail of the Great Greek Ruse Yoongi had cooked up, and by the end of it they were completely slack jawed before disintegrating into a fit of laughter at just how insane the two of you must have been to try and pull off something like that.

Your only response to them being that there were only a few things in life that could end a war that was saturated in as much hostility as the one between the Tri Delts and the Lambdas; love being one of them — even if it was fake.

———---

The party continued on after that. Your friends not allowing you out of their sights as they bombarded you with every idea that danced through their heads about how to keep the ploy of yours and Jungkook’s fake relationship up for as long as possible, and how the two of you were going to go about hooking up with people without everyone finding out. You were actually thankful for that, because you and Jungkook hadn’t gotten a chance to work out the logistics of how you were going to act in public.

You simply listened as Sana and Jennie amused themselves with this situation that their best friend had gotten themself involved in when you felt your phone buzz in your pocket. You pulled it out, Jungkook’s contact flashed across the screen with a text. You should probably get around to changing his contact name from ‘Jungkook the Jackass’ in case anyone ever caught a glance at your phone. Meet me out front, the text said.

“I’ll be right back,” You told Sana and Jennie as you lifted yourself off of the couch. “I’ve gotta talk to Jungkook.”

“Tell your lover I said hello!” Sana chuckled, no longer having that hurt like in her eye from earlier now that she was in on everything.

You quickly moved through the crowd of people that was now beginning to thin as the night got later and later before stepping past the front door. You looked around for a second before you noticed Jungkook standing at the base of the driveway waiting for you. He spotted you, motioning for you to come down. You wondered what he wanted. Probably to just gloat in relief that their idiot plan actually succeeded.

“Hey,” You whispered as you decided to stand a little bit closer to him than you normally would just in case anyone was watching. “What’s up?”

He looked around, presumably to make sure no one was in ear shot, and when he found that the coast was clear he turned towards you, an ecstatic grin staring at you. “I can’t believe that actually worked.”

“I can’t either. Yoongi was right. They really are like toddlers.” You laughed.

“Yeah, I mean we don’t know for sure yet if this is actually gonna stop them from fighting, but I saw some of the members who I know have had issues in the past actually talking, so I think that’s a good sign.”

“Yeah, I saw them too.” Lambdas and Tri Delts who had pulled some pretty spectacular pranks on one another seen speaking in what looked to be a respectful manner? A complete miracle. “How’d Jimin take the news?”

“Oh, he thinks it’s completely hilarious.” Jungkook chuckled.

You smiled. “Sana and Jennie think the same.”

“I figured they would. Though seeing them that pissed off was kind of funny.” He paused, looking off into the distance before shoving his hand into his pockets. “But anyways, the reason I called you out here was to give you this.” He pulled his hand out of his pocket and made a fist in front of you. You opened your palm to receive whatever he was trying to give you; a single key suddenly falling into your grasp. “I have a spare in my car, but that’s the key to my apartment — or I guess our apartment now.” He laughed, scratching awkwardly at the back of his neck.

You had been so focused on the fake dating aspect of this predicament that you had almost forgotten about your living situation. You held it up between the two of you. You couldn’t believe this was actually happening. You were about to move in with your ex, while everyone except for your best friends believed that you were back together.

“Are we really gonna do this?” You finally asked.

“I don’t see why we wouldn’t be able to make it work. I think the past two days showed that we can be around each other and not act crazy.”

You agreed that things had definitely shifted, and not just because you had to pretend to be in a relationship now. You wanted to think that you could make it work, that you could put your petty, bitter ways behind you.

And when you told Jungkook that you felt the exact same way about making things work before leaving to go home for one of your last few nights in the Tri Delt house, you truly meant what you had said to him… But sometimes situations happen, and as they say, old habits die hard.

--------

three days later

You were completely out of breath as you climbed the stairs to your new apartment building, about a dozen duffle bags filled with your various belongings were wrapped around your body as you tried to keep your phone smashed between your shoulder and your ear.

“Why’d you decide to move out early?” Jennie whined from the otherside of the line. “Did you wanna get away from us that bad?”

You tried to muster a laugh as you attempted to make it up the final few steps without passing out. “Of course I wanted to stay longer, but both of my classes got cancelled, and I’d rather just get it over with than have to deal with it on a Friday like I was going to.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it.” She huffed. “But I’m still not happy about you having to live with the devil’s spawn.”

You tsked at her. “Hey, we’re all trying to get along now, remember?”

“I know… But I’m still acting like a bitch to Jimin, I don’t care,” She added quickly.

“Well, that one I’m okay with.” You chuckled. “But I just got to my apartment, so I’ll call you back in a little bit, okay?”

“Okay, talk to you later.” And then the line went dead and you were fishing for the key that Jungkook had handed you outside of Kappa Sigma on Saturday night.

You couldn’t believe it had only been three days, but in those three days things had been going okay, actually. There had been no incidents involving either the Tri Delt or Lambda house, and after the everyday, non-stop antics from the past few years, that was as close to divine intervention as you could get. So yes, you could say that maybe you had developed a slight bit of optimism. Everything was working out at the sorority, you actually had a place to live — things truly were going well. But you should’ve known that when things were going well, Jeon Jungkook was always there to throw a wrench in your happiness, because as you wiggled the key inside of the lock and pushed your way inside, the last thing you had ever wanted to see in your entire life was staring right back at you.

Your ex-boyfriend, who publicly was once again your actual boyfriend, whom you still had occasional feelings of longing for, was currently balls-deep in a girl on his living room couch — which was now also your living room couch.

The door slammed against the wall before you could stop it, both of their terrified faces suddenly turning to you as they immediately yanked a blanket over their naked bodies.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N!” Jungkook yelled. “You said you were coming Friday!”

You couldn’t help it. The tiny, petty demon you had tried to squash down in size over the past few days was suddenly bubbling over at the flare of emotions ricocheting inside of your head. Your teeth gritted together, eyes cutting daggers across his skin as you forced a saccharine smile as fake as this relationship.

“Well, honey, I’m home now.”

#bts #bts fanfic #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook fanfic #kpop fanfic #bts angst #jungkook angst #fanfiction

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ENG Letter from the Voivode Vlad Draguli Tepes of March 14, 1457. *** By content: This letter finally clarifies the political situation between Wallachia and Transylvania, which became the cause of the conflict in 1457 and later. However, to understand the situation, it is worth reading first two other documents, the first, the agreement between the parties, the terms of assistance, the second, the document of the request for help from the voivode. This document follows in this chain the third, interesting from the point of view of the conflict. After the voivode did not receive an answer, according to the agreement, he goes to the lands where the applicants for the throne of Wallachia and their accomplices are hiding. According to the agreement, if you remember, the party on whose land the applicant and his people are hiding, preferably, betrays (meets the voivode as a friend) intruders, or does not interfere with their search. Probably, the governor did not meet any assistance in Transylvania, which is not surprising, given this attitude. Having crossed the Turnu-Rosu pass and arriving at the places where the aforementioned gentlemen were hiding, but faced with complete indifference, the voivode made an attempt to persuade Transylvania to reckon with itself. The result of this was the burned villages of Kasholts, Khosman and Nou Romyn near the very Sibiu. For decades, Transylvania, which had been shaking the nerves of the governors of Wallachia, was literally shocked by such an act, unprecedented in its kind, so that echoes of indignation reached us in the form of pamphlets, legends, stories, where from year to year, from decade to decade, the number of “innocents” increases, just like the number of "victims". In those stories, it comes to the point where the death toll during that period significantly exceeds even the number of all who lived at that time in one of the largest cities in Transylvania, Brasov. What exactly prompted the governor to take such a decisive, long-needed step? Was it the indirect participation of Transylvania in all the coups in Wallachia?, the murder of his family?, an attempt on his own murder?. It is unlikely that the voivode was so restrained and patient that, having come to power “without any help,” he concludes a strong peace with Transylvania and approaches it very responsibly. This letter is also very interesting, with a phrase that some historians even interpret as a threat: “If you don’t want even more, then immediately inform us so that we can rule and govern”. However, from the point of view of the choice of vocabulary, "quod nos regere et gubern {are p} ossemus" is completely neutral and, speaking figuratively in modern words, has the following content: the voivode, being a ruler, will be able to begin to regulate the current situation only when he finds out about the further political course of his neighbor, Transylvania, and does not want to be in the dark about that, therefore he asks to inform about his decision. There is nothing else in this phrase, "reign and govern", "herrschen und lenken", in any translation, that is, to be the ruler and therefore to control the situation. For all that, few people focus on the fact that they tried to kill the governor in Transylvania when he needed help. They also pay little attention to the fact that the voivode expresses, albeit tactfully within the framework of necessary diplomacy, about his attitude to the origin of the applicant: “his infringement on our right of the true (!) Heir”, “a monk from Wallachia who calls himself a son voivode ", the latter is twice specially indicated. Given these moments, I personally cannot understand why Vlad The Monk is definitely considered the illegitimate child of Dragul, when among his sons his father is not mentioned anywhere in the documents, not even once, and one of the sons frankly says that the Monk is an impostor. In my opinion, Vlad Monk is another Neagoe Bassarab, of which, as we remember, there were plenty of them. With only one commander Dragulya Tepes, duplicated Mirchi, Vlada and

forged documents suddenly appeared. Letter from the governor Vlad Draguli Tepes dated March 14, 1457. *** Noble, prudent and far-sighted men, advisers, fathers, brothers, our sincerely dear friends and neighbors, as you remember, and you should be well aware of that, there is a commitment between us, and vows backed by unshakable loyalty have been taken; and these obligations and vows must not be violated by anyone and never, while we are alive, at any time, which we personally specifically pointed out to you in a letter. From our side of evil, we did not do you and did not intend to start that. But today a rumor has reached us and we have learned about all that, that at a secret council you were with the people of a monk from Wallachia, who calls himself the son of a governor *, settled their affairs; Moreover, Peter Gereb * from Virishmort, and Peterman *, the son of the noble Peterman, who were neighboring with you, took part in this. You were personally promised to transfer all the fees to you in Rukar and Brail for a long time, promising that Wallachia's income. * Remember the time when I wandered and arrived in your lands *, you then did not let me into your council, but instead, out of loyalty to the noble lord, the governor of these lands, Vladislav entrusted the noble men John Gereb from Wingard and Nicholas from Salzburg to capture us in the city of Joaju and to end us. But by the will of God, we ourselves were able to return our lands without any help *, but with you, we made a strong peace and thus made your enemies ours. Today we fully understand that you support a monk from Wallachia, who calls himself the son of a governor, and his people in an encroachment on our right to be a true heir, and we also understand what bad consequences for us everything can lead, since you are already Advice with him, and he, having made his way to Amlash, remained there, and is there to this day by your own will. Therefore, with this letter we ask each and every one of you that in the name of the God and according to the commandments of the Catholic faith, as well as for the sake of maintaining fraternal peace and friendship between us, after reading our letter, you will certainly write to us or report back, whether you wish further observe the order established by us and you in writing and be loyal to it. If you do not wish that more, then immediately inform us, so that we can rule and govern. Given in Targoviste on the second day after the feast of Blessed Pope Gregory, in the year 1457. Vlad, Commander of the Transalpine lands, your faithful brother, son and friend in everything. Comments: * Identity of Vlad the monk is speculative only. * Peter Gereb * from Virishmort was a judge and head of Sibiu in 1467, later he was executed in the city square because of his participation in the uprising against Corwin considered bloodthirsty). Peterman was a wealthy Sibiu merchant from Wallachia, Kampulung; the city was located on the trade route from Rukar to Brasov. The German-speaking community living there maintained close relations with Sibiu. * Fees from you in Rukar were the most important source of income for Wallachia, therefore they were never the object of donation or lease. Braila Port, located on the Danube, was the country's most important port and was of exceptional importance for trade in the western Black Sea region. The decision of the self-appointed claimant to take away the income from the country and give it to Transylvania was also unprecedented, his desire to curry favor was painfully strong. * After an unsuccessful attempt to regain legal power in November 1448, the voivode fled to Moldavia. However, there is no evidence that he was present at the court of Bogdan II. Perhaps he found refuge among the Moldovan boyars who were supporters of his family. Later, the voivode is forced to move to Transylvania, after Vladislav finds himself in the same situation as many voivods before him and therefore loses the support of the Hungarians. * Joaju (Rom. Geoagiu, ung. Algyógy) is located in the Hunedoara

Sudce, where the Hunyadi family owned vast estates and were surrounded by numerous supporters. The authors of the book Corpus Draculianum contradict themselves, first they write that the Hungarians removed Vladislav because of his pro-Ottoman policy, and then that the murder of the governor could have been ordered by Hunyadi, so that, literally: “Hunyadi wanted to prevent Vlad's attack on Vladislav, so as not to violate the truce with by the Ottomans ". Several different statements. And why would Vlad even then be in Joaju, "where the Hunyadi family owned vast estates and were surrounded by numerous supporters." Honestly, I am alarmed by the attempt of the authors of the book to constantly challenge the words of the voivode in the documents (I often notice in the comments, they say, “the voivode is misleading,” or “in fact, the reason was something else, and not indicated by the voivode” (they apparently, instead of the governor, they know much better what was the cause of what was in the 15th century, in this case the same example, after all, everything is written in black and white, who attempted and why) and suppose “their own” version. I do not know the purpose of such comments. An example, one of the many about challenging, openly refuting the words of the voivode in his letter with his statement, is the commentary on the phrase “But by the will of the Lord we ourselves were able to return our lands without any help.” In the commentary to this phrase, the authors of the aforementioned publication, the governor is accused of lying, citing a completely empty formal oath to Postumus in March 1456 and arguing that (as it turns out, it was not Hunyadi who wanted to kill, as they had previously stated) with the help of Hun eadi. In support of the versions, documents are cited that are not evidence of the indicated facts, even indirectly. In some comments, the authors of the publication accuse the voivode of issuing an ultimatum without offering any negotiations, and this is for this phrase: “Therefore, with this letter we ask each and every one of you that in the name of the Lord and according to the commandments of the Catholic faith, and also for the sake of maintaining fraternal peace and friendship between us (!), after reading our letter, you certainly wrote or reported to us (!) whether you want to continue to observe the order established by us and you in writing (!) and be loyal to it. If you do not wish that more, then immediately inform us, so that we can rule and rule. " I don’t know how even softer it is possible to write after an attempted murder, after a betrayal and a secret conspiracy, the ruler who previously concluded an agreement with you asks you to inform us about your preference in actions. I cannot understand what the authors are pursuing with such comments. _____________________ RU Письмо воеводы Влада Драгули Цепеша от 14 марта 1457 года, перевод группы Воевода Валахии XV века Влад Цепеш Дракула. *** По содержанию: Данное письмо окончательно проясняет политическую ситуацию между Валахией и Трансильванией, ставшую причиной конфликта и в 1457 , и позже. Однако, для понимания ситуации стоит прочесть сначала два других документа, первый, договор между сторонами, условия содействия, второй, документ просьбы о помощи от воеводы. Данный документ следует в этой цепи третьим, интересным с точки зрения конфликта. После того, как воевода не получил ответа, согласно договору, он отправляется в земли, где укрываются претенденты на трон Валахии и их пособники. Согласно договору, если помните, сторона, на чьей земле скрывается претендент и его люди, предпочтительно, выдает (встречает воеводу , как приятеля) злоумышленников, либо не препятствует их поиску. Вероятно, воевода не встретил никакого содействия в Трансильвании, что и неудивительно, учитывая подобное отношение. Переправившись через перевал Турну-Рошу и прибыв в места укрывательства перечисленных господ, но столкнувшись с полным безразличием, воевода предпринял попытку убедить Трансильванию считаться с собой. Результатом этого стали сожженные

деревни Кашольц, Хосман и Ноу Ромын близ того самого Сибиу. Десятилетиями трепавшая нервы воеводам Валахии Трансильвания была в буквальном смысле шокирована таким поступком, беспрецедентным в своем роде настолько, что отголоски возмущения дошли до нас в виде памфлетов, сказаний, рассказов, где из года в год, из десятилетия в десятилетие, и число «невинно убиенных» становится все больше, и смерти все краше. В ряде рассказов доходит до того, что число погибших в тот период значительно превышает даже численность всех, живших на тот момент в одном из самых крупных городов Трансильвании, Брашове. Что же именно подвигло воеводу на такой решительный, давно нужный шаг? Было ли то косвенное участие Трансильвании во всех переворотах в Валахии, убийство его семьи, покушение на его собственное убийство. Вряд ли, воевода был настолько сдержан и терпелив, что, придя ко власти «без всякой помощи», заключает крепкий мир с Трансильванией и очень ответственно к тому подходит. Данное письмо очень интересно и фразой, которую некоторые историки даже трактуют как угрозу: «Ежели не желаете того более, то тотчас сообщите нам, дабы мы могли властвовать и править». Однако, с точки зрения выбора лексики, «quod nos regere et gubern{are p}ossemus» вполне нейтральна и , если говорить переносно современными словами, имеет следующее содержание: воевода, будучи правителем, сможет начать регулировать сложившуюся ситуацию , лишь тогда, когда узнает о дальнейшем политическом курсе своего соседа, Трансильвании, и не желает быть в неведении о том, потому просит сообщить о своем решении. Ничего другого в данной фразе нет, «reign and govern», «herrschen und lenken», в любом переводе, то есть, быть господарем и потому управлять ситуацией. При всем, мало кто акцентирует внимание на том, что воеводу пытались убить в Трансильвании, когда ему нужна была помощь. Также мало акцентируют внимание и на том, что воевода высказывает, пусть и тактично в рамках необходимой дипломатии, о своем отношении к происхождению претендента: «его в посягательстве на наше право истинного (!) наследника», «монаха из Валахии, кто величает себя сыном воеводы», последнее дважды особо указывается. Учитывая данные моменты, я лично не могу понять, почему Влада Монаха определенно считают внебрачным ребенком Драгула, когда среди сыновей его нигде не упоминается в документах самого отца, ни разу, а один из сыновей откровенного говорит, что Монах самозванец. На мой взгляд, Влад Монах очередной Нягое Бассараб, которых на деле, как помним, было полно. Только с одним воеводой Драгулей Цепешем внезапно появились и дублированные Мирчи, Влады и поддельные документы. Письмо воеводы Влада Драгули Цепеша от 14 марта 1457 года. *** Знатные, благоразумные и дальновидные мужи, советники, отцы, браться, наши искренне дорогие друзья и соседи, как вы помните, а о том должно вам быть хорошо известно, есть между нами обязательства , и даны клятвы, подкрепленные непоколебимой верностью; и сие обязательства и клятвы недолжно никому и никогда, пока мы живы, в любое время нарушать, на что мы вам лично особливо в письме указывали . С нашей стороны зла мы вам не творили и не намеревались то начинать. Но нынче дошел до нас слух и мы обо всем том узнали , что на тайном совете с вами были и дела свои улаживали люди монаха из Валахии, кто величает себя сыном воеводы*; пуще того, принимали в том участие и Петер Гереб *из Виришморта, и Петерман *, сын знатного Петермана, соседствующие с вами. Вам лично пообещали надолго передать все сборы с вам в Рукаре и Брэиле , посулив тем доходы Валахии.* Припомните же то время, когда скитался я и в ваши земли прибыл*, не пустили вы тогда меня в совет свой, но вместо этого вы из преданности знатному господину ,воеводе тогда этих земель , Владиславу поручили знатным мужам Иоанну Геребу из Вингарда и Николаю из Зальцбурга нас в граде Джоаджу пленить и с нами покончить. Но по воле Господа смогли мы сами без всякой помощи земли свои вернуть*, а с вами же мы заключили крепкий мир и тем сделали ваших неприятелей нашими. Нынче мы всецело разумеем то, что вы поддерживаете монаха из

Валахии , кто сыном воеводы себя величает, и людей его в посягательстве на наше право истинного наследника, а также понимаем и то, к каким худым последствиям для нас все может привести, раз вы уж и совет с ним держите, и он , в Амлаш пробравшись , там и остался , и там доныне находится по вашей же собственной воле. Потому сим письмом просим мы всех и каждого из вас о том, чтобы во имя Господа и по заповедям веры католической, а также ради поддержания между нами братского мира и дружбы, вы, прочтя наше письмо , нам непременно ответ написали или доложили, желаете ли далее соблюдать письменно установленный нами и вами порядок и быть тому преданными . Ежели не желаете того более, то тотчас сообщите нам , дабы мы могли властвовать и править. Дано в Тырговиште на второй день после праздника блаженного папы Григория, в год 1457. Влад, воевода земель Трансальпийских , ваш верный брат, сын и слуга во всем. Знатным, благоразумным и дальновидным мужам, бургомистру Освальду, судье и советникам Сибиу, всем нашим мужам саксам из Семиградья, нашим искренне уважаемым друзьям и соседям. ___________________________________________________________________________ Комментарии: *Идентификация личности Влада монаха лишь предположительная. * Петер Гереб *из Виришморта был судьей и главой Сибиу в 1467 году, позже его казнят на городской площади из-за его участия в восстании против Корвина (последнему, выходит, отмечу от себя, можно так поступать с заговорщиками и претендентами на власть и не считаться кровожадным). Петерман же был богатым торговцем Сибиу родом из Валахии , Кымпулунг; город располагался на торговом пути от Рукара в Брашов. Проживавшее там немецкоязычное сообщество поддерживало тесные отношения с Сибиу. *Сборы с вам в Рукаре были самым важным источником дохода для Валахии , потому они никогда не выступали объектом пожертвования или аренды. Порт Брэйла, расположенный на Дунае, был самым важным портом страны и имел исключительное значение для торговли в западно-черноморском регионе. Решение самозваного претендента отнять доход у страны и подарить его Трансильвании также было беспрецедентным, больно сильным было его желание выслужиться. * После неудачной попытки вернуть законную власть в ноябре 1448 года , воевода бежал в Молдавию . Однако, нет никаких доказательств того, что он присутствовал при дворе Богдана II. Возможно, он нашел прибежище среди молдавских бояр, которые были сторонниками его семьи. Позже воевода вынужден перебраться в Трансильванию, после того, как Владислав оказывается в той же ситуации, что и многие воеводы до него и потому лишается поддержки венгров. *Джоаджу (рум. Geoagiu, ung. Algyógy) расположен в судце Хунедоара, где семья Хуньяди владела обширными владениями и была окружена многочисленными сторонниками. Авторы книги Corpus Draculianum противоречат себе , сначала пишут, что венгры убрали Владислава из-за его проосманской политики, а потом, что убийство воеводы мог заказать Хуньяди , чтобы, дословно: «Хуньяди хотел предотвратить нападение Влада воеводы на Владислава , чтобы не нарушать перемирие с османами». Несколько различные утверждения. Да и зачем бы Владу вообще тогда находиться именно в Джоаджу, «где семья Хуньяди владела обширными владениями и была окружена многочисленными сторонниками». Меня, честно, настораживает ко всему попытка авторов книги постоянно оспорить слова воеводы в документах (не раз то замечаю в комментариях, мол, «воевода вводит в заблуждение», или «на деле же причиной было иное, а не указанное воеводой» (они, видно, вместо воеводы куда лучше знают, что же причиной чего и было в 15 веке , в данном случае тот же пример, все ведь черным по белому писано, кто покушался и зачем) и предположить «свою» версию. Бессмысленно то. А вот какова цель подобных комментариев мне неизвестно. Примером, одним из многочисленных об оспаривании , откровенном опровержении слов воеводы в письме своим утверждением, является и комментарий к фразе «Но по воле Господа смогли мы сами без всякой помощи земли свои вернуть». В комментарии к данной фразе авторы вышеупомянутого издания обвиняют воеводу во

лжи, приводя основой совершенно пустую формальную присягу Постуму марта 1456 и утверждая, что (как оказывается, уже не Хуньяди убить хотел, как ранее ими было заявлено) с помощью Хуньяди. В поддержку версий приводятся документы, не являющиеся доказательствами указанных фактов даже косвенно. В некоторых комментариях авторы издания обвиняют воеводу в том, что он выставил ультиматум, не предлагая никаких переговоров, и это к данной фразе : «Потому сим письмом просим мы всех и каждого из вас о том, чтобы во имя Господа и по заповедям веры католической, а также ради поддержания между нами братского мира и дружбы (!), вы, прочтя наше письмо , нам непременно ответ написали или доложили, (!)желаете ли далее соблюдать письменно установленный (!)нами и вами порядок и быть тому преданными. Ежели не желаете того более, то тотчас сообщите нам , дабы мы могли властвовать и править». Уж не знаю, как еще мягче можно написать после покушения на свое убийство, после предательства и тайного заговора, правитель , заключивший ранее с вами договор, просит вас сообщить о вашем предпочтении в действиях. Не могу понять, какую цель преследуют авторы такими комментариями.

#Vlad voda #Vlad Tepes #Vlad Dracula #vlad the impaler #Ladislau Dragkwlya #documents #history #wallachia #romania #March 14 #1457

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startanewdream · 3 years

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Hello Mah, forgive me for coming to ask for another prompt, I should control myself more, but I was reading ''Fate'' when I came across with this part ''Harry will have a full plate with these two someday.''

And I thought that if you haven't written that, make Harry complain to James and Sirius or Lily, idk, over the Easter break, about how Hermione and Ron are fighting, and maybe, just if you want, there is no Voldemort? Just to see the Golden Trio even more as teenagers, as they should be. But if you want to put Voldemort to give that dramatic touch of yours, it's okay too, you decide :)

and if you don't want to write that, that's fine too <3

Hiiiiii, Sweet! <3 please send all the asks you want!

I loved this prompt so much that I couldn’t help myself. So please enjoy this family moment between Harry, his parents and Sirius as they discuss Ron and Hermione’s possible relationship, during the Easter Break of Harry’s Fourth Year (for curiosity, in this universe, Ron and Hermione begin dating the start of their Fifth Year - and one day I’ll finish a WIP about Hinny’s relationship in the same universe)

Oh, and I know you asked for the Golden Trio being teenagers, but, really, here the parents are the teenagers:

Harry looks at the letter Errol just dropped with a heavy sigh that’s muffled by the sound of the owl hitting the glass of the window instead of flying away.

‘Rest before you go back’, Harry says, picking up the owl carefully (Errol blinks in thanks) and taking it downstairs to the tree next to the window of the kitchen that stands as their owlery. His parents are there, with Sirius, finishing their breakfast.

‘Morning’, Harry says distractedly, helping to place Errol in a branch of the tree, next to a sleepy Hedwig.

‘Come take your breakfast, Harry’, his mother tells him. Harry sits, yawning.

‘What’s with the grumpy face?’, Sirius asks, watching him.

‘I woke up early. Hermione sent me a letter - and when I was almost sleeping again, Errol came with another’.

‘Ron and Hermione are already writing?’, James asks, sounding amused. ‘You have been apart for only one day, you know that, right?’

Lily giggles. ‘Look who's talking. When was the last time you spent a day without seeing Sirius?’

‘Hey!’, James complains, while Harry laughs too. ‘If I don’t see him, how will I know he’s been feeding himself?’

‘Maybe trust he is a functional thirty-five-year-old guy?’

‘Hey, I am right here’, Sirius remembers.

‘Yeah, and you are eating breakfast in our place, which just proves my point’, James notes, smirking. He turns to Harry. ‘What’s so important they had to write to you on the first day of the holidays?’

‘Privacy, James?’, Lily says, amused. ‘Or you used to share the contents of your Marauder letters with your parents?’

‘I hope not’, Sirius intervenes. ‘He used to talk a lot about you in those letters - I am not sure Monty and Mia would have enjoyed reading so much about your very nice pair of -’

‘Hey, hey!’, Harry interrupts, raising his hands. ‘Kid alert here!’

‘Very nice pair of eyes, Harry’, Sirius says calmly. ‘Why did you think I would say?’

‘Oh, shut it’, Harry rolls his eyes, ignoring the redness around his neck. ‘And if you want to know, it’s no big deal, they don’t stop talking about it anyway. It’s about Viktor Bloody Krum’.

‘Harry -’

‘Sorry, Mom’, Harry adds hurriedly. ‘It’s just I don’t wanna ever hear about him again, really’.

‘What happened to all that admiration?’, James asks, surprised. ‘I thought you were cheering more for him than for the Hogwarts Champion’.

‘That was because…’, Harry’s voice drifts off, embarrassed. He doesn’t really want to talk about why Cedric Diggory annoys him lately. ‘Well, I don’t have any problem with Krum, but don’t say his name out loud near Ron and Hermione unless you want to hear them bickering’.

‘Oh, they are still in that phase?’, asks Lily, a grin playing on her lips that Harry doesn’t understand.

‘They always bicker, it’s just… I don’t get it, I thought Ron would actually be glad Hermione is friends with Krum, but all he does is complain’.

‘They are friends? Krum and Hermione’, his father asks, raising his eyebrows. Harry supposes that’s really an unlikely pair.

‘Well, friends, I don’t know - wait, I didn’t tell you? Hermione went with Krum to the Yule Ball’.

James and Sirius make a chorus of ‘ohhhh’, raising their eyebrows at the same time, and pull their chairs so they get closer to Harry.

‘You didn’t tell us!’, his father complains.

‘I didn’t think it was important’.

‘You really need to sort out your priorities, Harry’, Sirius says, somber. ‘That’s big news’.

‘Hermione and Krum?’, Harry asks doubtfully, then he grins. ‘Oh, wait until you hear everything then’.

And he tells them how Ron got upset with Hermione’s choice of date, accusing her of fraternizing with the enemy.

‘Wow’.

‘Nice phrasing’, Sirius agrees.

‘I should have used it when I found you snogging Anthony Travers’.

‘He was hot’.

‘He was a Slytherin!’

Lily rolls her eyes. ‘Grow up’, she mumbles, but they don’t seem to hear.

‘And at the end of the Yule Ball’, Harry adds, expecting for their reactions, ‘she told Ron that next time there was a ball, he should ask her before someone else does, and not as a last resort!’.

Sirius and James don’t disappoint him. ‘OOOOOOH’.

‘One point to Hermione!’

‘She definitely hit a nerve there’.

‘And then what happened?’, Sirius asks curiously. ‘The next day? What did they do?’

Harry shrugs. ‘Nothing, actually, they just pretended nothing happened’.

‘I will need to talk to Ron’, James says gravely; he looks at Lily. ‘If you told me something like that, I would be asking you out the very next minute’.

She gives him a loopsided grin that Harry is sure she learned with his father. ‘As if you would ever not ask me for any ball first’.

James grins, raising to kneel in front of her. ‘My dearest Lily, would you give me the pleasure of your company for all balls for the rest of your life?’

‘Oh, get a room you two’, Sirius says, rolling his eyes. ‘I am waiting to hear the rest of the story. Come on, Harry’.

But Harry is looking wistfully at his parents. ‘It must be so nice to ask someone out when you know she is going to accept it’.

James laughs. ‘Well, now it seems easy, but when I asked your mom, trust me, I was nothing but a nerve-wracking mess’.

‘He fainted’, Lily agrees, looking fondly at her husband.

‘It was not a faint! I just closed my eyes for a while -’

‘Harry’, Sirius interrupts out loud. ‘So if everything was ok, why are you receiving letters now?’

‘Oh’, Harry grins. ‘It’s because of the Second Task. The champions had to rescue the things they would miss the most - and for Krum, that was Hermione’.

‘That is so -’

‘Unexpected?’, Lily suggests. ‘Unbelievable exaggerated for someone you just went to a ball together?’

‘Romantic’, Sirius finishes, frowning at her. ‘What did James see in you, Evans?’

‘Potter’, she notes, smirking. ‘And from what you said, he was very fond of my pair of… eyes’.

‘Oh, stop you two’, James says, waving his hand as if they are two misbehaved kids. He glances at Harry. ‘I take Ron didn’t like it very much’.

‘No, he hated it. I mean, he was very worried with Hermione while she was underwater, though I told him Dumbledore wouldn’t really anything happen with any of the hostages… and then when she was safe, he got angry with her!’

‘Of course he did’, James agrees, eyes sparkling with laugh. Harry doesn’t see much humour in this story.

‘Well, now they keep arguing about Krum, about house-elves, about whoever Ron is talking to, about everything, and I am in the middle of it. Letters and all now’.

James exchanges a look with Lily. ‘We were never like that’.

‘No, we went from arguing to bantering and then snogging’.

‘It wasn’t arguing, I was just an arse and you didn’t take it quietly’, James says unabashed. ‘But I meant we never took pleasure in arguing just for the sake of it’.

‘I wish you had’, Sirius notes. ‘At least then I could shut you up with a spell’.

‘We were not that bad’, James says fairly. Sirius gives one of his barking laughs.

‘You two keep looking at each other when you thought the other wasn’t looking, both convinced the other didn’t like you back, while you both sighed all over the place, finding some stupid excuses to be near each other - I mean, come on, how many meetings could you have in our final year?’

‘I was Head Boy!’, James remembers.

‘See? The worst excuse ever to get near a girl’.

Harry blinks. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘Your parents’, Sirius says joyfully. ‘And comparing them with Ron and Hermione’.

‘What they have to do in common?’

‘Oh, Harry’, Sirius looks at him almost pityingly. ‘You see, when a boy likes a girl - or another boy, or when a girl likes a boy or a girl -’

‘You are just complicating everything, Padfoot’, Lily tells him brightly. ‘What he means is that there is something going on between Ron and Hermione’.

‘Yeah’, Harry agrees, his brows furrowed. ‘They are fighting’.

The other three laugh. Harry crosses his arms, annoyed.

‘But why are they fighting, Harry?’, his mother asks gently.

‘Because they are two stubborn people?’

‘But why now, why about Krum?’ When Harry shrugs, without answering, Lily shakes her head. ‘Oh, dear, you are as oblivious as your father’.

‘Hey!’

Lily places a soft kiss on James’ face before turning to Harry.

‘Ron is jealous of Hermione’, she explains patiently. ‘And Hermione wished Ron had asked her to the ball before. You see now?’

‘So Ron and Hermione… will become Ron and Hermione?’

‘I don’t know that’, Lily says. ‘Not every crush turns into something’.

‘Ours did’, James whispers, smugly.

‘And not every school romance lasts after school either’.

‘Seventeen years together’, James sings. Lily throws him a fond look.

‘And counting’, she agrees, offering her hand for him to take it.

Sirius rolls his eyes.

‘You see what I had to endure with these two? That will be you with Ron and Hermione’.

‘They like each other?’, Harry repeats, thinking, but now that they’ve said it, he supposes he couldn’t really be surprised.

All that bickering had to mean something - and beyond that, they were always close, always gravitating around each other. He supposes he should be glad they would move on that bickering phase, but if they did...

‘But - what if they get together? I will be a third wheel! Worse, what if they get together and then split up? We won’t be friends -’

‘You are overworrying, son’, James assures him. ‘You won’t stop being their friends no matter what happens’.

‘Yeah’, Lily mumbles. ‘Look at Sirius’.

‘What about me?’

‘James dating me and marrying me didn’t affect the relationship between Prongs and Padfoot’, she notes, ignoring Sirius’ wink at her. ‘So you will be fine with them’.

Sirius nods gravely. ‘There is only one rule you need to follow when your best friends are dating, Harry. Remember that and your life will be easier’.

‘What is that?’

Sirius grins. ‘Always knock on their doors before you enter any room they are in or else you will see them in positions you didn’t even know it was possible’.

‘Sirius!’

#t: fanfiction #Jily Lives #romione #Jily #Sirius and James enjoy a good gossip #Everyone supports Romione because #Everyone is happy #I like to write happy things once in a while #no angst!

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bunnimew · 3 years

Text

5 Times Pitch Used Terrible Pick Up Lines and the 1 Time It Kinda Worked

Fandom: Rise of the Guardians Pairing: Jack Frost/Pitch Black Tags: Fluff, Crack, Pick Up Lines, Post-Movie, 5+1, rating for themes, Pitch Black is a ridiculous man, Jack Frost you little shit Rating: T Words: 1884 Summary: Does what it says on the tin.

For RotG Bingo 2021: Terrible Pick-Up Lines On AO3 Here.

Jack hadn’t seen Pitch since the nightmares dragged him away.

The image was never far from his mind. The panic, the despair. And the children were so carefree now that Jack began to wonder if the Boogeyman would ever return.

Which is what made it such a shock when he finally heard that voice again, that silky smooth tone Jack thought locked away in his past, out of the literal darkness.

“If you were words on a page, you’d be fine print.”

Jack gripped his staff on instinct and spun to face his opponent before he realized that wasn’t an insult at all.

That was a pick-up line.

Pitch Black had just laid a pick-up line on Jack. Frost. One of the Guardians.

What.

The shock was so complete that all the fight melted out of Jack and left him reeling in confusion. Pitch’s lines were meant to sting, right? They weren’t supposed to be–

“Did you just call me fine?” Jack had to ask. Just to make sure.

Pitch’s expression remained smooth and suave, but his body, what little of it was solid, began to waiver and… was the Nightmare King fidgeting?

“Of course, Jack,” he said. “Surely you know how appealing you are?”

Jack nodded. He did. He definitely did. “Surely you know how weird it is that you said it?”

Pitch tilted his chin up, straightening his spine and assuming a very carefully composed stance. He looked uncomfortable as fuck. “It’s not that strange, Jack. If you’ll recall, it’s not the first… offer I’ve made you.”

That was a fair point, and Jack almost gave it to him. “Taking over the world and taking me to bed aren’t exactly the same thing, Pitch.”

His eyes widened in feigned surprise. Pitch leaned forward just enough to make Jack feel his height, and then he said, “Aren’t they, though?”

He vanished into the dark before Jack could come up with a good reply.

“Kiss me if I'm wrong. But dinosaurs still exist, right?”

This time, Jack was less surprised. Surprised, yes, but Jack didn’t jump into a defensive stance or anything, which was good for his sense of pride.

Instead, he thought about what Pitch actually said. Dinosaurs did not exist, and that was one of the saddest facts Jack knew. “These are supposed to be Pick-Ups, not Put-Downs. What are you doing?”

Pitch didn’t miss a beat. He turned his head coyly to the side and made himself look very unassuming. “You know, I’m actually terrible at flirting. How about you try to pick me up instead?”

That was… a pretty good line, if Jack were honest. Unfortunately, fraternizing with the enemy was frowned upon in most establishments, and also Jack was not going to reward the Boogeyman for bad behavior. “I’m not falling for it.”

“Are you sure?” Pitch looked up, all innocence. “Maybe you should check again.”

Jack snorted a laugh. He knew Pitch was witty and all, but somehow the Guardian had thought it limited to nasty insults and setting traps. Speaking of…

He looked right into Pitch’s eyes when he said. “You’re wrong, but I’m not kissing you.”

Pitch’s lips twisted, but it looked more playful than aggrieved. “Well you’re no fun.”

Jack skated to the edge of the lake, the one he liked to think of as home, and tipped joyously over into the soft snowbank to rest. Figure eights were a lot of fun, but figure skating was a lot of work.

“We’re not socks, but I think we’d make a great pair.”

Jack almost jumped right back out into the lake and through the ice. Instead, he used his unwillfully gained momentum to turn and smack Pitch’s shoulder for scaring him. That was no way to woo a man.

“Antarctica hit you hard, didn’t it?” he accused.

Pitch did look off-put by that, but he didn’t leave so Jack figured he was over it enough. It was only fair, too, considering the whole Antarctica thing was largely Pitch’s doing.

Jack brushed off the snowflakes he’d thrown all over himself in his panic and settled down into the bank the way he’d meant to before Pitch so rudely interrupted. “You know, you’d get further if you stopped sneaking up on people.”

Pitch looked even more offended by that. “I am the Boogeyman!”

“Yeah, so?”

Pitch tossed his head. Dramatically. Jack hid his grin. “Sneaking up on people is what I do.”

“Sneaking up on targets is what you do,” Jack corrected mildly. He stuffed one arm under his head and made sure to have a good angle on Pitch’s face for what he said next. “Sneaking up on a pull is how you go to bed lonely.”

Pitch drew back in shock, and Jack loved to see it. His eyes were wide and everything.

Jack raised his eyebrows and said, “That is what you’re trying to do, isn’t it?”

Pitch sputtered. It was hilarious. He recovered quickly, and that was fun, too. “And who are you to give me dating advice?”

Jack shrugged. “Just the guy you’re trying to date.”

Pitch walked right into that one, and he clearly knew it by the way he kept his mouth shut and looked at everything that wasn’t Jack. Finally, he licked his lips and said, “Yes, well…”

“Well?” Jack prompted. He would have sworn Pitch’s high cheekbones were looking darker than usual.

“Have a nice night,” Pitch said in a rush of breath and vanished into the shadows from whence he came.

Jack grinned. He didn’t care if Pitch was actually still there and could see. “Oh, I’m sure I will.”

If Jack was the kind of person to compliment his arch nemesis, he would give him props for materializing slowly this time. Was Pitch trying to learn?

All the same, the Nightmare King stopped Jack in his tracks by blocking his way with a long gray arm and a beautiful purple rose.

“I just wanted to show this rose how beautiful you are.”

Gorgeous as the rose was, that line was transparent as hell. Jack dropped his shoulders and stared at Pitch, hoping his expression was as lame as that line.

To his credit, Pitch held his ground. His face was the picture of innocent interest, maybe even with a dash of hope.

As they watched each other, waiting to see who blinked first, Pitch’s arms slowly lifted to place the rose, de-thorned thankfully, over Jack’s ear.

...Well played.

Jack tried to maintain his stare, but it was hard to stay mad when he felt pretty. That didn’t mean Pitch’s line was working; it just meant Jack liked roses. Who didn’t like roses?

Jack gathered his wits and tried to look casual when he asked, “If that’s all you wanted, then I guess your job’s done here, isn’t it?”

Pitch didn’t look upset the way Jack thought he would. His eyes were roaming over Jack’s face and the flower tucked against it in distant admiration and Jack, for the first time, really started to think Pitch might mean something by these lines he was using.

“Yes, I suppose it is,” he said as if waking from a dream. This time, when Pitch melted into the dark, he sank slowly into the shadows and it didn’t feel anything like the running away it had every time previously.

He could have taken three times as long to leave and Jack still wouldn’t have found his tongue in time to reply.

This time, when Pitch appeared, Jack was reclining lazily up in a tree. Which Jack would have considered his home turf, except the way Pitch dripped out from the shadow of the branch above him to hang upside down, comfortable as any bat, made him feel at a distinct disadvantage.

It was creepy, but Jack could admit it was cool, too. Pitch had style.

Jack waited patiently for the line he knew was coming.

“I'd like to take you to the movies, but they don't let you bring in your own snacks.”

Jack snorted a laugh. He couldn’t help it. And yet, after all of this, Jack could admit to feeling flattered by it, too. A snack, huh?

“Why can’t you just tell me you like me and get it over with?”

Jack hadn’t realized any part of Pitch was moving until all of it, extended shadows and everything, came to a screeching halt. “Wha–” He stuttered, and it was music to Jack’s ears. “No, That’s–I don–”

The Boogeyman didn’t know how to handle it when he wasn’t in control, but rather than lash out the way Jack feared, the way he was used to, he flailed in embarrassment and conceded all ground to Jack. That, more than anything else, told Jack what he needed to know.

“Goodbye, Frost.” Pitch said with what little dignity he could muster, and dropped right into the ground.

Pitch wasn’t even a surprise this time.

Jack was in the middle of a long brick walkway, icing up the ornate lamps and decorating the bare trees on either side with snow. There were plenty of shadows to pick from, but Pitch walked over from some distance away giving Jack more than enough warning to know he was there.

Jack was tempted to interrupt him. To see if he could wrongfoot him again, get Pitch to trip over his own words and obvious desires and flee.

It would be easy. Jack could think up dozens of ways to call Pitch out before he even spoke a word.

But then Jack wouldn’t get to hear him speak a word.

And he was curious what words Pitch might speak.

“Your eyes are bluer than the Atlantic ocean,” Pitch spoke softly, poetically. He must have practised to deliver the line this well. “And I don’t mind being lost at sea”

It was worth it, Jack thought: the practice and letting Pitch say it. That smooth tongue was meant for promises on the wind and romance in every word.

Jack stared for too long and only realized when Pitch’s eyes gleamed and he took another breath.

“I wish I were a tear,” he whispered as he moved closer. His cool fingers brushed gently along the side of Jack’s face and Jack felt no fear. Pitch was telling him just what he wanted, and Jack held all the power here. “...So I could start in your eyes,” Pitch said, “live on your face…” His fingers drifted down along Jack’s jaw. He knew what Pitch was going to say before he said it, “...and die on your lips.”

But it was so much better out loud, in Pitch’s voice, than in Jack’s head.

It was Antarctica all over again, but this time Pitch was offering something whose price wasn’t Jack’s soul. It was Antarctica all over again, and Pitch was brave to come back a second time, a third time, a sixth time to risk rejection and hurt and wounds reopened that maybe only just healed.

Jack watched Pitch glow in the moonlight. Watched him take a deep breath and open his lips to speak—

“You can stop now,” Jack said, and grabbed the back of Pitch’s neck to pull him in for a kiss.

Pitch’s lips tasted just as sweet as his lines.

#TheBunni #Rise of the Guardians #rotg #blackicerotg #blackice rotg #blackice #Jack Frost #Pitch Black #Pick-up lines #Rotg Bingo #rotgbingo

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marmosa · 4 years

Note

Can i request a fred x reader where theyre friends and then one day freds like, yeah she’s cute...holy shit i like her. Or something along those lines?? Your writing is the best!

thank you so much for the compliment and for the support! i’m a sucker for the friends to lovers trope so this request got me super excited skhfbskfj. hope you like it, love <3!

word count: 1.4k

***

“You know, for someone who’s the life of the party, you are terrible at showing up on time to parties,” [y/n] scolded Fred, grabbing his sleeve and pulling him down next to her on the couch.

“First off, the life of the party is always fashionably late, it’s written in the rulebook. Secondly, you’ve got to be more careful or I would’ve spilled my drink all over you,” Fred replied, rolling his eyes and elbowing her in the side playfully.

“Rulebook? What rulebook? The rulebook for morons?” she lulled, sticking out her tongue, jerking to the side to avoid another elbow to her side, “Fine! Whatever you say certified party animal, it doesn’t matter you didn’t really miss anything anyway.”

“I know I didn’t, because the party never truly starts until George and I have showed up,” He smirked, wiggling his eyebrows as she rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, whatever, that’s only because you haven’t managed to spike the punch yet,” she scoffed, swirling her plastic cup in his face.

“Me? Spike the punch? How dare you accuse me of something so inappropriate! I’m frankly offended you’d think of me so lowly, [y/l/n],” He scoffed in offense, throwing his hand over his head in mock hurt.

“Oh yes, because you are the epitome of rule following, Percy would get a kick out of hearing that,” she snickered, taking a sip of her drink to avoid Fred’s disgruntled look.

“You’ve been fraternizing with the enemy now? I ‘ought to cut you off completely. Honestly woman you’re playing a dangerous game here,” Fred scolded her, shaking his head.

“It bothers you that much? Wonder how you’d take it if I told you he asked me on a date,” she hummed, biting back a smile when Fred’s face fell faster then a quidditch player off their broom.

“You’re bluffing. [y/n] so help me god if you’re serious I will never speak to you again,” He replied flat out, his voice void of any humor.

[y/n] started giggling then broke out into full laughter though it was impossible to tell in the crowded and noisy room. She had to lean over and clutch her stomach as Fred continued staring her down, refusing to back down on his front until he received a clear answer.

“I’m serious [y/n], take it back or I will never speak to you again,” He repeated, his deadpan expression turning into a frown.

“Alright! Alright, goodness, he’s a git not the devil, Fred. But don’t go getting your wand in a twist, he’s hasn’t done anything of the sort,” she chuckled, still heaving from her fit of laughter.

“Good. I’d kill him if he did,” Fred replied simply, standing up and stretching his limbs, “anyway, we’re here to party, care to join me on the dance floor?”

He motioned to the small crowd of people in the center of the common room that had been cleared out for more space, setting down his drink and offering her his hand. She smiled back at him and nodded, taking his hand and quickly setting her drink down as he dragged her behind him to the dance floor.

They started vibing to the music, jumping and swaying to the beat of the music rolling off the record player. No one was sure how they kept coming up with the latest tunes on vinyl, however everyone had dropped any sort of interest in figuring it out in fear of losing their new music privilege's.

“You’re a rubbish dancer,” Fred called over the music, receiving a confused look from [y/n].

He rolled his eyes and grabbed her sleeve pulling her into him and steadying her with a firm hand on her waist, “I said you’re a rubbish dancer, let me show you how it’s done.”

Before [y/n] could get out a defensive remark in she was being spun in a circle by Fred, a surprised yelp leaving her lips before he pulled her back in and continued swaying with her side to side. She couldn’t help but smile at his antics, letting herself indulge in the moment, slinging her arms around his neck as he continued his theatrics, mouthing the words to the song.

They continued like that until [y/n]’s friend weaved her way into the crowd and pulled her away for a moment to talk, leaving Fred to his own devices. He took the opportunity to take a break himself, heading back to the concessions table for a new drink as he knew there was no chance of finding his old one.

He leaned against the entrance to the boys dormitory, scanning the room for anyone familiar, his eyes landing on [y/n] giggling with her friends about something. His heart started to flutter in his chest as he watched her hide her face in her hands as her friends all agreed on something that seemingly embarrassed her.

Wait. Fred stopped staring at her and cast his gaze down to his drink. Why was his heart beating in his chest so fast? He looked back up and saw [y/n] glance over at him with a small smile, passing him a wave before turning back to her friends who were now hotly debating something. He blew air out from between his lips and quickly rushed up to his dormitory to go sit by a window, feeling his face heat up more than he’d like it to in that sweltering hot room.

He dodged a few stragglers on the stairs, his heart still racing as his mind replayed their shared dance, her laughter, her smile, her. He shoved his hands in his pockets before bursting into his room, thanking god it was empty so he could be spared of any embarrassment at his emotional epiphany.

She’s so pretty, he thought to himself, sitting down next to the nearest window and pushing it open, sighing in relief as the cool air rushed over his hot skin. Has she always been this pretty? With a groan his head hit the back of the wall with a thud, his fingers fiddling with the fraying ends of his jeans. She definitely has.

“Well, don’t you look lonely, Mr. life of the party.”

Fred’s head snapped to the side as his heart picked up pace once more, cursing at the most untimely appearance of the last person he needed to see right now, “I’m not lonely, it’s just hotter than hell down there and I need some fresh air.”

“Going to be honest, same here. But you look,” she shrugged, shuffling over and plopping down in front of him, “flustered. What’s up?”

Fred cursed again, wanting to shove his face into the wall and scream, that’s what he gets for catching feelings for one of his best friends, “Nothing’s up. I’m a ginger lest you forget. I could turn red just because the sun blinked at me.”

“Good point,” she hummed, tapping the tips of her shoes against his, “I know you though and I know that’s a pile of rubbish. But I don’t want to ruin your fun so I won’t dig, but I’ll get my answer eventually.”

“Whatever, that’s what you always say,” He rolled his eyes, staring out the window to ignore her drilling stare and raised eyebrow.

“You enjoy the attention, don’t lie,” she stuck out tongue, blowing a raspberry at him.

“You’re a smartass you know that,” he mumbled, bumping her in the shin with his heel.

“Your smartass,” she retorted, not noticing the way Fred’s eyes widened at the implication, “But enough of me pestering you, George was looking for you, said something about a plan and fireworks, didn’t stick around long enough to explain the rest, so you should probably head back downstairs.”

Fred sighed and visibly relaxed, his pranking expertise now rushing to the forefront of his mind as he pushed down his feelings to deal with later, “Will do, but only if you come with me, I don’t think we’ve done enough dancing for one night.”

“Agreed! Onward then,” She cheered, pushing herself up and offering Fred a hand, a cheery grin plastered on her face.

“Can do,” He replied, taking her hand as she pulled him along.

He smiled to himself softly, squeezing her hand gently as she started to ramble on about how she wanted in on whatever he and George were planning, though he was hardly paying attention to the subject matter and more to the lilt in her voice.

He was in for a wild night.

#fred weasley #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley imagines #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x [y/n]#[y/n]#mar writes #asks #hogwarts #harry potter

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moldisgoodforyou · 4 years

Text

break up songs

a fun lil story in which sophie and the gang drive to michigan for a basketball game. no one asked for this lmao oops to the requests i have in my inbox

wordcount: 2k

“Why do you always sing the breakup songs so loud in the car?”

Sophie paused her Spotify, midway through the chorus of All Too Well (and honestly, how dare he), and raised her eyebrows. “Huh?”

The group was on a three-hour road trip to Ann Arbor for the Ohio State vs. Michigan rivalry basketball game. Rafe insisted on driving (though not before unscrewing the Ohio State license frame from the car), so Sophie naturally got the passenger seat. James and Colin had been asleep in the backseat for the last hour, Colin slumped adorably onto James’ shoulder, despite both of them insisting on not taking the middle seat, but they slowly woke at the jarring silence in the car.

“You have that playlist, that one with the little broken heart emoji, and that’s your go-to every single time we go on a longer drive. Why?”

When Sophie glanced over at Rafe, she noticed a small pout on his lips and he tapped his fingers on the wheel, impatiently waiting for her response. A small smile curved up on her own lips and she held back a giggle. “They’re just songs, Rafe.”

“Well, it’s kind of a shitty reminder.” He paused, really trying to drive his point home. “Of when you broke up with me.”

“Oh my god.” She rolled her eyes and James and Colin perked up in the backseat, interested to hear the transpiring argument.

“C’mon, Sophie -”

“I did not break up with you -”

“Did so!” Rafe insisted, reaching over to poke at her side.

She grabbed at his hand, pushing it back to his side of the car. “I did not! You offered a break, and I took it, but we never actually broke up.”

“Ooh, Mom and Dad are fighting.” James stage-whispered to Colin, but still loud enough so everyone in the car could hear.

“Eyes on the road, Cameron.” Colin piped up and Rafe simply flipped him off from the front seat, then poked her side again, grinning when she yelped. “Exactly my point, Soph, you broke up with me for two whole weeks. It sucked.”

“It’s true, I’ve never seen him in worse shape.” James interjected helpfully, laughing when Rafe shot him a pointed glare in the rearview mirror. “That’s not true.”

“Is so. Sophie, friend, have you ever seen the Da Vinci Code?” James grinned.

She turned in the front seat, ignoring Rafe’s annoying wandering hands trying to distract her. “No, this fucker won’t let me watch with him.” Once she noticed a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips she quickly pointed a warning finger at him. “Don’t say it.”

“Wasn’t gonna say a thing, darling.” He raised his eyebrows at her in a challenge.

“I hate when you call me that.” She grumbled, turning her attention back to James. “What were you saying?”

Rafe caught his eye in the rearview mirror again, expression impassive. “Don’t tell her or I’m telling standards you broke the mirror in the front hall.”

James dropped his grin, sinking back into his seat with a sullen frown. “That’s low, Cameron.”

“That’s fine. Colin?”

Colin laughed, knowing Rafe had nothing on him - at least, nothing that would incriminate him against their fraternity’s standards council. “The female lead’s name is Sophie and he watched it four times. James had to take the DVD and break it so he wouldn’t watch it anymore.”

Rafe scowled. “Four times is an exaggeration. I watched it twice. Maybe.”

“He’s lying.” Colin told her, matter-of-fact.

“I’m not. Anyway, my point is, I don’t want to hear that damn song about the driving girl and the blonde girl anymore. Put on a happy song.”

“Driver’s License is a fucking masterpiece and I’m sorry you can’t recognize that.” She shot back.

“Sophie.” He warned, swatting her hand away as she went to turn up the radio.

“Fine.” Sophie scrolled through her playlist, eyes narrowing, then beamed as she settled on a song.

Rafe groaned as the opening guitar riff of Go Your Own Way sounded through the speakers.

_____

The rest of the drive consisted of the four arguing over what actually consisted of a breakup song, James insisting Rafe pull over the second they crossed the Michigan border just so he could pee in ‘enemy territory,’ and Rafe paying way too much for parking at the Kappa Alpha Theta house at Michigan. (It was closest to the arena so they could walk, and fine, Sophie allowed a little bit of flirting on his end just so he could convince the girl to let her rivals park in the lot.)

Despite Rafe’s protests, Sophie wore her jersey proudly as they walked to the arena, leaving her jacket in the car while the three boys kept theirs dutifully zipped. She ignored every little glance she got, while Rafe noticed every single one, holding her hand a little tighter each time. They made it into the arena without incident and found company with a small group of Ohio State fans also donning jerseys or other spiritwear.

As the lights dimmed slightly for the intro video on the jumbotron, Sophie dug into her sports bra and surreptitiously pulled out four small shooters - of tequila, no less. Rafe couldn’t help but beam proudly. “Atta girl.” She laughed and handed them out, then ducked down to take hers quickly. “You’re welcome, boys.”

The four cheered loudly - Sophie, a little too loudly - as the Ohio State players were announced. Soon after, the Michigan players were announced to the tune of their fight song, and Sophie perked up a little at the mention of Brandon Johns. “Oh, hey, I know him.”

“You do? I thought you hated everyone that went here.” James asked, cocking his head.

“Oh, I do.” She nodded in agreement.

“So how do you know him?” Colin questioned.

Sophie waited until the ball was tipped to answer the question, a few beats too long of a pause. “...We almost hooked up.” She dropped nonchalantly, with a casual shrug.

“Sorry, you what?” Rafe demanded, his surprise making him too loud for the surrounding crowd, some of who shot him dirty looks. She laughed and nudged his shoulder. “C’mon, pay attention.”

“Wait, huh? Did I hear you right?” Colin asked, wearing a matching confused expression with the rest of the boys.

“Yes, you heard me - pay attention, support the team!” She teased, letting out a whoop when Ohio State scored. They went back to paying attention, although a little barb of jealousy poked Rafe every time Brandon Johns got the ball, and he whistled especially loud every time he was up for a free throw. At halftime, they weren’t doing too hot, and James sighed. “Do you have any more alc in that magic bra of yours?”

“Sadly, no.” She shook her head and Rafe slung his arm around her shoulders, kissing the crown of her head. “Maybe we should have saved ‘em to drown our sorrows.”

“It’s only halftime, we’re fine.” Colin reassured them. “Besides, I want to hear your story.”

“My story?” Sophie quirked her brow and James nodded. “Oh yeah, I forgot, I want to hear about Brandon.”

“Do we really need the story?” Rafe grumbled, getting all protective.

She laughed and ignored him, clearly loving the opportunity for attention. “There’s not much of a story. He was in town for the rivalry game last year, the night before the game. I was a little drunk -”

“A little?” James smirked.

“Well, okay, maybe more than a little. I didn’t recognize him in the bar when he was flirting, I just noticed he was fucking giant, but didn’t really put two and two together.” She paused, sparing a glance at Rafe as her cheeks turned a little red. “I was about to, um, take him home, but he mentioned he wouldn’t be able to stay that long while we were waiting for the Uber.”

“Because of the game.” Colin deduced.

“Yeah, exactly. Then some kid came up to him, asking for a picture, and I realized who he was. So I took the Uber home alone and left him on the sidewalk.”

“Cold, Soph.” Rafe grinned, pleased the story ended there. He wrapped both arms around her from behind, pulling her to lean against his chest.

“Well I wasn’t going to be a traitor. Also, he’s not the best kisser. The height was kind of awkward, you know?” She shrugged and Colin and James cackled while Rafe put his hand over her mouth. “Okay, stop, I don’t want to hear about you with other guys.”

“Nothing happened, and I’ve sure you have your fair share of stories too.” She pointed out.

“Not quite.” James mumbled, turning away with a small smirk as Rafe shot him a warning glare. Sophie was about to question it until she felt his arms tighten around her a little more, and decided not to push it.

“You think he remembers you?” Colin asked, laughing as Rafe yelled even louder as Brandon went up for another free throw, his nose wrinkling when he made the shot anyways.

“Probably not, he probably hooks up with some girl at every away game.” She shrugged.

“You’re pretty memorable.” Rafe argued, pressing a kiss to her temple, arms still around her waist as she leaned against him.

“You two are different, Cameron, you pined after her for years.” James pointed out and Rafe rolled his eyes but smiled. “Yeah, well, can you blame me?”

“Sap.” She accused, elbowing him gently in the stomach. He grinned and ghosted his fingers along her side, making her shiver. “Just for you.”

“Okay, lovebirds, tone it down until we’re home. Rafe, you’re fucking whipped.” Colin teased. When Sophie laughed, he raised his eyebrows. “You're bad too, the two of you flirt daily like you’re trying to get in each other’s bed for the first time.”

“Lighten up, Colin, it’s young love. Go get laid and you’ll understand.” James chirped good-naturedly. By the end of the game, they were all hoarse and worn out, disappointed by the close loss. Rafe insisted upon Sophie wearing his jacket on the way out and walk back to cover her jersey, just so she didn’t get any unnecessary comments yelled at her (though he was more worried about her trying to snap back at them than whatever they might say).

“I call shotgun!” James yelled once they got close enough to the car, racing Sophie to the door and elbowing her out of the way. Colin laughed and held out his hand. “Want me to drive?”

“What, Colin, you don’t want to nap with me in the back?” Sophie teased, sliding into the backseat. Rafe handed over the keys and pulled her into the middle seat so she could lean on him on the way home. “Not on my watch.” It only took twenty minutes and a few chill songs from James’ playlist before she was nodding off, curling into his side.

Rafe eventually contributed less and less to the conversation up front, trying not to wake Sophie, until he caved and fell asleep with his head resting on hers. Naturally, the boys took several live photos of them for blackmail, especially when Rafe grumbled in his sleep and pulled her closer to him.

Sophie reluctantly kissed him goodbye and waved to the boys once they dropped her off at home, still half asleep. In the short time it took her to get ready for bed and crawl under the covers, she had received a couple texts from Rafe.

Rafe: Today was fun

Rafe: I’m glad you’re friends with my friends

Rafe: *link to Spotify*

She had to laugh when she clicked on the link to a custom playlist by him, aptly titled ‘songs you’re allowed to sing in the car with me.’ Only one song from her breakup playlist slipped through, because it was one of Rafe’s favorites - Dreams by Fleetwood Mac.

#if you know brandon johns personally no you don't #i just picked a random man off the roster ok #trying to stay accurate but not relevant so #ignore that fun fact if you happen to be a umich fan lmao #rafe x sophie #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron fanfic #college rafe #frat rafe #mine #obx fanfic #outer banks fanfic #outer banks fanfiction #was this a bad ending? yes! do i not know how to end fics properly? yes!#also i didn't edit this at allllll #so #oh well

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cruisingthedemimonde · 3 years

Text

America’s Gay Men in WW2

World War Two was a “National Coming Out” for queer Americans.

I don’t think any other event in history changed the lives of so many of us since Rome became Christian.

For European queers the war brought tragedy.

The queer movement began in Germany in the 1860s when trans activist Karl Ulrichs spoke before the courts to repeal Anti-Sodomy laws. From his first act of bravery the movement grew and by the 1920s Berlin had more gay bars than Manhattan did in the 1980s. Magnus Hirschfeld’s “Scientific Humanitarian Committee” fought valiantly in politics for LGBT rights and performed the first gender affirmation surgeries. They were a century ahead of the rest of the world.

The Nazis made Hirschfeld - Socialist, Homosexual and Jew - public enemy number one.

The famous image of the Nazis burning books? Those were the books of the Scientific Humanitarian Committee. Case studies of the first openly queer Europeans, histories, diaries - the first treasure trove of our history was destroyed that day.

100,000 of us were charged with felonies. As many as 15,000 were sent to the camps, about 60% were murdered.

But in America the war brought liberation.

In a country where most people never even heard the word “homosexual” , historian John D’emilio wrote the war was “conducive both to the articulation of a homosexual identity and to the more rapid evolution of a gay subculture. (24)” The war years were “a Watershed (Eaklor 68)”

Now before we begin I need to give a caveat. The focus of this first post is not lesbians, transfolk or others in our community. Those stories have additional complexity the story of cisgender homosexual men does not. Starting with gay men lets me begin in the simplest way I can, in subsequent posts I’ll look at the rest of our community.

Twilight Aristocracy: Being Queer Before the War

I want us to go back in time and imagine the life of the typical queer American before the war. Odds are you lived on a farm and simply accepted the basic fact that you would marry and raise children as surely as you were born or would die. You would have never seen someone Out or Proud. If you did see your sexuality or gender in contrary ways you had no words to express it, odds are even your doctor had never heard the term “Homosexual. In your mind it was just a quirk, without a name or possible expression.

In the city the “Twilight Aristocracy” lived hidden, on the margins and exposed their queerness only in the most coded ways. Gay men “Dropping pins” with a handkerchief in a specific pocket. Butch women with key chains heavy enough to show she didn’t need a man to carry anything for her. A secret language of “Jockers” and “Nances” “Playing Checkers” during a night out. There is a really good article on the queer vernacular here

And these were “Lovers in a Dangerous Time.”

In public one must act as straight as possible. Two people of the same gender dancing could be prosecuted. Cross dressing, even with something as trivial as a woman wearing pants, would run afoul of obscenity laws.

The only spaces we had for ourselves were dive bars, run by organized crime. But even then one must be sure to be circumspect, and act straight. Anyone could be an undercover cop. If a gaze was held to long, or lovers kissed in a corner the bar would be raided. Police saw us as worthy candidates for abuse so beatings were common and the judge would do all he could to humiliate you.

Now Michael Foucault, the big swinging french dick of queer theory, laid out this whole theory about how the real policing in a society happens inside our heads. Ideas about sin, shame, normalcy, mental illness can all be made to control people, and the Twilight Aristocracy was no different.

While cruising a park at night, or settled on the sofa with a lifelong lover, the thoughts of Priests and Doctors haunted them. “Am I living in Sin? Am I someone God could love?” “Is this healthy? Have I gone mad? Is this a true love or a medical condition which requires cure?”

There was no voice in America yet healing our self doubt, or demanding the world accept us as we are. And that voice, the socialist Harry Hay, did not come during the war, but it would come shortly after directly because of it.

Johnny Get Your Gun… And are you now or ever been a Homosexual?

For the first time in their lives millions of young men crossed thousands of miles from their home to the front.

But before they made that brave journey they had another, unexpected and often torturous journey. The one across the doctor’s office at a recruiting station.

In the nineteenth century queerness moved from an act, “Forgive me Father I have sinned, I kissed another man” to something you are, “The homosexual subspecies can be identified by certain physical and psychological signs.”

These were the glory days of patriarchy and white supremacy, those who transgressed the line between masculine and feminine called the whole culture into question. So doctors obsessed themselves with queerness, its origins, its signs, its so called catastrophic racial consequences and its cure.

“Are you a homosexual?” doctors asked stunned recruits.

If you were closeted but patriotic, you would of course deny the accusation. But the doctor would continue his examination by checking if you were a “Real Man.”

“Do you have a girlfriend? Did you like playing sports as a kid?”

If you passed that, the doctor would often try and trip you up by asking about your culture.

“Do you ever go basketeering?” he would ask, remembering to check if there was any lisp or effeminacy in your voice.

Finally if the doctor felt like it he could examine your body to see if you were a member of the homosexual subspecies.

Your gag reflex would be tested with a tongue depressor. Another hole could be carefully examined as well.

Humiliating enough for a straight man. But for a gay recruit the consequences could be life threatening.

Medical authorities knew homosexuals were weak, criminal and mad. To place them among the troops would weaken unit cohesion at the very least, result in treachery at the worst. In civilian life doctors had much the same thing to say.

The recruit needed a cure. And a doctor was always ready. With talk therapy, hypnosis, drugs, electroshock and forced surgeries of the worst kinds there was always a cure ready at hand.

Thankfully the doctors were not successful in their task, one doctor wrote “for every homosexual who was referred or came to the Medical Department, there were five or ten who never were detected. (d’Emilio 25)”

Here’s the irony though, by asking such pointed and direct questions to people closeted to themselves it forced them to confront their sexuality for the first time.

Hegarty writes, “As a result of the screening policies, homosexuality became part of wartime discourse. Questions about homosexual desire and behavior ensured that every man inducted into the armed forces had to confront the possibility of homosexual feelings or experiences. This was a kind of massive public education about homosexuality. Despite—and be-cause of—the attempts to eliminate homosexuals from the military, men with same-sex desires learned that there were many people like themselves (Hegarty 180)”

And then it gave them a golden opportunity to have fun.

The 101st Airborn - Homosocial and Homosexual

“Homosocial” refers to a gender segregated space. And they were often havens for gay men. The YMCA for example really was a place for young gay men to meet.

Now the government was already aware of the kind of scandalous sexual behaviour young men can get up to when left to themselves. Two major government programs before the war, the Federal Transient Program and the Civilian Conservation Corps focused on unattached young men, but over time these spaces became highly suspect and the focus shifted to helping family men so as to avoid giving government aid to ‘sexual perversion’ in these homosocial spaces.

But with the war on there was no choice but to put hundreds of thousands of young men in their own world. All male boot camps, all male bases, all male front lines.

The emotional intensity broke down the barriers between men and the strict enforcement of gendered norms.

On the front the men had no girlfriend, wife or mother to confide in. The soldier’s body was strong and heroic but also fragile. Straight men held each other in foxholes and shared their emotional vulnerability to each other. Gender lines began to blur as straight men danced together in bars an action that would result in arrest in many American cities.

Bronski writes, “Men were now more able to be emotional, express their feelings, and even cry. The stereotypical “strong, silent type,” quintessentially heterosexual, that had characterized the American Man had been replaced with a new, sensitive man who had many of the qualities of the homosexual male. (Bronski 152)”

Homosexual men discovered in this environment new freedoms to get close to one another without arousing suspicion.

“Though the military officially maintained an anti-homosexual stance, wartime conditions nonetheless offered a protective covering that facilitated interaction among gay men (d’Emilio 26)”

Bob Ruffing, a chief petty officer in the Navy described this freedom as follows, ‘When I first got into the navy—in the recreation hall, for instance— there’d be eye contact, and pretty soon you’d get to know one or two people and kept branching out. All of a sudden you had a vast network of friends, usually through this eye contact thing, some through outright cruising. They could get away with it in that atmosphere. (d’Emilio 26) ”

Another wrote about their experience serving in the navy in San Diego, “‘Oh, these are more my kind of people.’ We became very chummy, quite close, very fraternal, very protective of each other. (Hegarty 180)”

Some spaces within the army became queer as well. The USO put on shows for soldiers, and since they could not find women to play parts, the men often dressed in drag. “impersonation. For actors and audiences, these performances were a needed relief from the stress of war. For men who identified as homosexual, these shows were a place where they could, in coded terms, express their sexual desires, be visible, and build a community. (Bronski 148)”

“Here you see three lovely “girls”

With their plastic shapes and curls.

Isn’t it campy? Isn’t it campy?

We’ve got glamour and that’s no lie;

Can’t you tell when we swish by?

Isn’t it campy? Isn’t it campy?”

The words camp and swish being used in the gay subculture and connected to effeminate gay men.

I would have to assume, more than a few transwomen gravitated to these spaces as well.

Even the battlefield itself provided opportunities for gay fraternization. A beach in Guam for example became a secret just for the gay troops, they called it Purple Beach Number 2, after a perfume brand.

This homoerotic space was not confined to the military, but spilled out into civilian life as well.

Donald Vining was a pacifist who stated bluntly his homosexuality to the recruitment board as his mother needed his work earnings, and if you wanted be a conscientious objector you had to apply to go to an objector’s camp. He became something of a soldier chaser, working in the local YMCA and volunteering at the soldier’s canteen in New York he hooked up with soldiers still closeted for a night of passion but many more who were open about who they were.

After the war he was left with a network of gay friends and a strong sense of belonging to a community. It was dangerous tho, he was victim of robberies he could not report because they happened during hook ups, but police were always ready to raid gay bars when they were bored. “It was obvious that [the police] just had to make a few arrests to look busy,” he protested in his diary. “It was a travesty of justice and the workings of the police department (d’Emilio 30).״

Now it might seem odd he was able to plug into a community like that, but over the war underground gay bars appeared across the country for their new clientele. Even the isolated Worcester Mass got a gay bar.

African American men, barred from combat on the front lines, were not entirely barred from the gay subculture in the cities. For example in Harlem the jazz bar Lucky Rendevous was reported in Ebony as whites and blacks “steeped in the swish jargon of its many lavender costumers. (Bronski 149)”

The Other War: Facing Homophobia

“For homosexual soldiers, induction into the military forced a sudden confrontation with their sexuality that highlighted the stigma attached to it and kept it a matter of special concern (d’Emilio 25)”

“They were fighting two wars: one for America, democracy, and freedom; the other for their own survival as homosexuals within the military organization. (Eaklor 68)”

Once they were in, they fell under Article 125 of the Uniform Code of Military Justice: “Any person subject to this chapter who engages in unnatural carnal copulation with another person of the same or opposite sex or with an animal is guilty of sodomy. Penetration, however slight, is sufficient to complete the offense.”

Penalties could include five years hard labour, forced institutionalization or fall under the dreaded Section 8 discharge, a stamp of mental instability that would prevent you from finding meaningful employment in civilian life.

Even if one wanted nothing to do with fulfilling their desires it was still essential to become hyper aware of your presentation and behaviour in order to avoid suspicion.

Coming Home to Gay Ghettos

“The veterans of World War II were the first generation of gay men and women to experience such rapid, dramatic, and widespread changes in their lives as homosexuals. Bronski 154”

After the war many queer servicemen went on to live conventionally heterosexual lives. But many more returned to a much queerer life stateside.

Bob Ruffing would settle down in San Francisco. The city has always been a safe harbour for queer Americans, made more so as ex servicemen gravitated to its liberated atmosphere. The port cities of New York, San Francisco and Los Angeles became the prime destinations to settle. Vining’s partner joined him in New York, where they both immersed themselves in the gay culture.

Other soldiers moved to specific neighborhoods known for having small gay communities. San Francisco’s North Beach, the west side of Boston’s Beacon Hill, or New York’s Greenwich Village. Following the war the gay populations of these cities increased dramatically.

The cities offered parks, coffee houses and bars which became queer spaces. And drag performance, music and comedy became features of this culture.

These veterans also founded organizations just for the queer soldiers. In Los Angeles the Knights of the Clock provided a space for same sex inter racial couples. In New York the Veterans Benevolent Association would often see 400-500 homosexuals appear at its events.

A number of books bluntly explored homosexuality following the war, such as The Invisible Glass which tells the story of an inter racial couple in Italy,

“With a slight moan Chick rolled onto his left side, toward the Lieutenant. His finger sought those of the officer’s as they entwined their legs. Their faces met. The breaths, smelling sweet from wine, came in heavy drawn sighs. La Cava grasped the soldier by his waist and drew him tightly to his body. His mouth pressed down until he felt Chick’s lips part. For a moment they lay quietly, holding one another with strained arms.”

Others like Gore Vidal’s The City and the Pillar (1948), Fritz Peters’s The World Next Door (1949), and James Barr’s Quatrefoil (1950) explored similar themes.

In 1948 the Kinsey Report would create a public firestorm by arguing that homosexuality is shockingly common. In 1950 The Mattachine Society, a secretive group of homosexual Stalinists launched America’s LGBT movement.

References:

Michael Bronski “A Queer History of the United States”

John D’emilio “Coming Out Under Fire”

Vivki L Eaklor “Queer America: A GLBT History of America”

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

The Lesbians

In 1947 General Eisenhower told a purple heart winning Sargeant Johhnie Phelps, “It's come to my attention that there are lesbians in the WACs, we need to ferret them out”.

Phelps replied, “"If the General pleases, sir, I'll be happy to do that, but the first name on the list will be mine."

Eisenhower’s secretary added “"If the General pleases, sir, my name will be first and hers will be second."

Join me again May 17 to hear the story of America’s Lesbians during the war.

#gay history #world war two #queer history #gay #lgbt

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