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stinkyturd · 4 months ago

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Sweet Wishes

Haru Sagara/Reader

Comments: Spicy? At what point do I say it's NSFW? Would have made this longer guys, but I got a Fever Dreams Chappie to get on. Featuring 90's classic anime nosebleeds. Some of you may not be old enough to get it, bahaha.

"Did you ever find your soul mate, Dandelion?"

Towa sits with you under the stars near the Jabberwock House. The two of you had been sprawled out in the grass, looking for constellations, until the ball of sunshine popped the random question on you. Towa turns his head to meet your gaze, wearing an angelic smile. You wonder what prompted him to ask, as it had been months since he first brought it up.

"I think so," You reply. And you did, but it was more wishful thinking than anything.

Towa sits up, his eyes as wide as saucers. "Really? Who is it?"

"Well, I think it's entirely one-sided... so I don't know that soul mate is the right word, then," You explain with an airy laugh, staring up at the night sky.

Towa scoots forward, hovering his face a little too close over yours. "So? Who is it?"

Your eyes meet the Jabberwock vice-captain's again, as his face is now blocking your star gazing. "It's Haru."

Towa blinks, his mouth hanging open in awe at your admission. "Haru...?"

"Yup. He's really grown on me," You add.

You weren't sure exactly when you had first realized it. It was a gradual build up. After you were inspector for Jabberwock, you found yourself helping out Haru a lot when you had free time. The eccentric Captain had a ton on his plate and the other two members of Jabberwock didn't really pull their weight like Haru did, so you decided to drop by one afternoon. When you so quickly picked up on the routine and memorized all the anomalies feeding schedules and clean up times, Haru timidly asked you to return whenever you were available.

"Does he make your heart flutter, Dandelion?" Towa asks, tilting his head curiously.

"Yeah..." You say with a nod. "Haru's very caring and sweet. I like working with him and he's so easy to talk to. Plus, his nurturing nature towards the anomalies here really does something for me. I don't have a Daddy kink, but if I could call anyone Daddy, it'd be him. Ya know?"

Towa didn't know. He nods anyways.

"I've tried flirting with him, but it usually goes over his head. Or he's just swerving me," You ramble, mindlessly running your fingers through the grass at your side.

Towa hums, his expression pensive. Tilting his head up, he looks at the sky. "Dandelion, look...! It's a shooting star." The Jabberwock vice-captain points at said star's location.

You follow his line of sight and he's right. "It is, isn't it?"

"Make a wish, Dandelion."

"Hmm... I wish Haru would notice me. As a potential romantic interest," You say aloud.

Towa giggles. "If you say it out loud, it may not come true."

"Whoops. Maybe, next time."

"That's okay," Towa starts, looking back down at you. "I think I can help make your wish come true."

"For real?" You wonder what the little ball of sunshine has in mind.

Towa nods, getting to his feet. "I think so."

"Haru, (Y/N) says you're her soul mate."

Haru sits on the floor in the main living area of the Jabberwock house, portioning out bags of feed for the next day. The Captain is currently concentrating on resetting the scale he is using for the task and the darn battery must have been going out, because the tare function had been acting up.

"That's nice, Towa," Haru replies, though it's evident he's not really listening. The red-head sighs in exasperation, flipping over the scale and opening the back compartment that held the battery.

You had already left for the night back to the cathedral and Towa is determined to get the ball rolling with making your wish come true.

"Did you really hear me?" Towa persists, peering over his shoulder.

Haru pulls out the dead battery from the scale. "Yes, yes I did! Now, can you help me with this please, Towa? There's batteries in the drawer by the kitchen sink."

"Hmph..." Towa puffs out his cheeks. Towa knows Haru didn't hear him, but he goes to get the batteries for the Captain, anyway. Once he pulls two out of the drawer and brings them back, he holds them out to Haru in the palm of his hand.

"Thanks, Towa!" Haru takes them from him, his lips pulling into an appreciative smile. The Jabberwock Captain makes haste to change them out so he can be done portioning within the hour.

"(Y/N) says she would call you Daddy," Towa deadpans.

Haru drops the scale in his hands onto the floor, causing the cover he just set to pop out again. The Captain tilts his head up at Towa, his jaw going slack. "W-W-WHAT...?!"

Towa beams, nodding fervently.

"T-TOWA...! T-That's not funny! Don't joke like that, my poor heart will explode! Who will care for Peekaboo, then?" Haru dramatically motions his hand over to the rabbit-like anomaly, sitting idly in it's playpen.

"But it's true," Towa protests.

"Do you even know the implication of that word? You can't just go around saying things like that," Haru chastises, his voice gradually getting calmer as he replaces the cover again.

Towa exhales. "...I didn't say it first."

"If you hold the bags open, I can pour the feed in and we can tag team this faster! Easy peasy," Haru suggests, completely dodging any more talk of the subject.

"...Fine, okay."

Towa resigns, sitting by his Captain's side. He would try again later.

Attempt Two.

A few days later, you're once again at the Jabberwock House. It was now evening. After your classes, you had come to help after Haru sent you a text asking for your assistance. You had been there since the early afternoon. The Jabberwock Captain recently had said something about winding down for the night and said he would be right back. Currently, you sat in an armchair looking over your emails on your phone.

"Dandelion."

Glancing up, you find Towa in front of you, holding out his hand.

You shoot him a skeptical glance, but you place your hand in his anyways. "What's up, Towa?"

"Come with me," Towa urges, gently pulling at your arm. "I have something to show you."

"Uh... sure." That is vague, but unsurprising coming from the source. You get to your feet and allow Towa to pull you along.

Towa drags you around the house for a bit, sprinting in between rooms. At first, you wonder if there is any real destination in mind and by the time you become suspicious enough to ask, the vice-captain stops in front of a door. If you're not mistaken, you're pretty sure it's one of the bathrooms.

You flit your dubious gaze on the white-haired man. "Uh... you need to pee, Towa?"

Towa giggles and shakes his head. The vice-captain opens the door, ushering you in, before shutting it behind you.

"--What the heck, Towa?" You blurt out, tilting your head in the direction of the now shut door behind you.

You hear movement from somewhere within the room. Looking forward, you make an attempt to spot the source of the disturbance.

Okay, so the steam emanating around the room makes it obvious that this bathroom is in use, or had just been used. Directly in front of you is a partition separating the changing area from the soaking area. And you happen to spot a few articles in the hamper just to the side of you that look awfully familiar.

A flashy orange jumpsuit, in particular.

Subconsciously, you think back to Towa's promise a few days ago. He couldn't have...

Footsteps pad from behind the partition, approaching where you stand. You know you should turn heel while you still can, but your pervy temptations take over and you stay grounded. Besides, Towa brought you in here! Anything that happens after is the consequence of circumstances entirely out of your control. You were just an innocent bystander who--

Haru appears from behind the divider, humming a tune that sounds vaguely familiar. Save for the wrapped bandages around his right arm and the small towel around his waist, he's completely nude. Haru's toned musculature is completely bare for you to admire. All those countless hours tending to the little farmland the young man had cultivated, really paid off. In fact, so much so, you're pretty sure you feel blood draining from your nose. Haru has yet to notice you so far. Right now, he's smiling pleasantly and pulling his clean clothes off a hook attached to the wall.

It wasn't until Haru slips his shirt on that he spots you from the corner of your eye. The Captain yelps in surprise. "AAAGH! W-WHAT ARE YOU...?!"

You watch as the Jabberwock Captain's face flushes a deep shade of crimson. Your heart beats violently in your chest when you realize he's getting closer to you, his shock faltering into a look of concern.

"(Y/N)...! Y-You're bleeding!" Haru brings a hand to your face, a look of panic on his own. "Are you okay?! I can get you a washcloth to clean that up! Stay right there!"

You stand there like the pervy goblin you are, as Haru rushes on the other side to get a cloth to clean your face. Closing your eyes, you inhale sharply. You thank whatever deity that may be looking out for you. There must be one, for you to have been blessed with such a sight. Or maybe you should just thank Towa.

A very warm, damp, cloth pats your face. You lean into the contact unconsciously, finding comfort in the heat. A hum of contentment escapes you.

"I should have shown you where the rest of the bathrooms are! And I forgot to lock the door, looks like, too," Haru clicks his tongue, making a displeased sound. "I'm sorry you had to see me like this! Ah, I really ought to be more careful."

"Don't apologize. I would have been thoroughly disappointed had I showed up any later," You say. It's meant to be flirtatious, obviously, but…

Haru nods, pressing his lips into a thin line as he finishes cleaning your face. "Right? I wouldn't have been able to find a washcloth for you!”

"..."

"Do you need me to take you to Mortkranken? I can, if you need to," Haru offers, tossing the now bloody cloth into the hamper next to him.

"No, it will be fine. Probably just the uh… weather changes. Between houses," You fib. “... Anyways, I'll let you finish getting ready.”

Haru regards you skeptically, before nodding. “Well, if you're sure!”

–

Attempt Three.

“Hey, honor student.”

“Hey, Ren,” You reply back, not diverting your eyes from the paperwork in front of you. A few days have passed since the bathroom incident took place. At the moment, you were going through vaccination records for the anomalies. You were trying to figure out which ones were due for their newest rounds.

“Here,” Ren says, tossing something at your side. Paper crinkles as the object lands, and you shift your attention to focus on it. It's a bouquet of assorted flowers, wrapped neatly in decorative paper.

You glance up at Ren, your lips quirking into a mischievous smirk. “Trying to confess to me, huh?”

Ren rolls his eyes. He plops down on the loveseat across from you, returning his attention to the handheld gaming device in front of him. “Read the card on it. It's not from me.”

“Oh…? Where'd you find it?” You peel back the paper surrounding the bouquet and pick up the card.

“Was on the porch,” Ren replies simply.

“To (Y/N), with love Haru,” You read aloud.

It's from Haru?

“Why would Haru leave this outside, though…?” You wonder.

“Dunno,” Ren says with disinterest. “Maybe he got shy. He's still outside trimming those weird sheep anomalies.”

Well, if this was really from Haru, you were absolutely ecstatic. A blush crept up your neck at the idea of him arranging the flowers. Did Towa help him? Were they sorted by meaning? Either way, you're going to thank him.

You get to your feet, flowers in hand, with intention to look for the Jabberwock Captain. Exiting the house, you walk through the grass and head towards the part of the field that Haru typically shears at. After a few minutes of searching, you spot him kneeling in the grass as he bags up piles of wool.

“Haru…” You call out as you approach him.

The red-head glances up at you, a smile spreading across his features. Haru stands up, dusting himself off. “Heya, (Y/N)! Whatchya got there?”

Assuming he's being coy, you walk right up to him and wrap your arms around his waist, eagerly pulling him into an embrace. “Thank you, Haru! You're so sweet!”

Haru yelps in surprise at the sudden contact, though he doesn't make any attempt to shy away. “Ah… You're welcome, (Y/N).” The Jabberwock Captain timidly wraps his arms around you, returning the hug. Though, he notably pats your back in a comforting gesture like you're his cousin, or a younger sibling, rather than a love interest. “... But what are you thanking me for, exactly?”

Haru does sound genuinely confused. Shit.

“Oh…” You lean back slightly, looking up at him. “Um… You didn't leave me these flowers?”

“Flowers…?” Haru repeats, his lips downturning slightly.

You step back, reluctantly parting from the contact to hold the bouquet and card out to him. “These?”

Haru takes the card from your hand and reads it. After a beat, the Jabberwock Captain sighs, shaking his head. “I'm sorry, (Y/N). This is Towa's handwriting.”

So, that's it.

Towa must be still trying to fulfill his promise. It's cute and you appreciate it, but you do feel a little disappointed. Maybe you should just be even more direct with Haru to save the vice-captain the trouble?

“Oh, I see,” You mutter, making an effort to sound particularly bummed out by the revelation.

“Yep. I'm not sure what's gotten into that little rascal lately! Maybe he's trying to tell you something, but he's embarrassed?” Haru guesses, but you know he's grasping at straws.

“Towa isn't shy,” You say point blank. It was true. The guy puts his face centimeters away from yours on a regular basis. Haru knows it too!

Haru laughs weakly, scratching the back of his head in a nervous manner. “Well, you caught me there! I'm not sure what's up with him, but I'll let him know that it's not nice to play tricks like that on you.”

“Haru, I think I need to tell you something,” You start with determined resolve.

The Jabberwock Captain's expression shifts into a more serious one, maybe because of the tone in your own voice. A bullet of sweat drips down Haru's cheek. “... Okay. You can tell me anything, (Y/N.)”

Just as you're about to open your mouth, a thunderous noise reverberates from somewhere behind the two of you. Haru flips around to identify the source and you follow his gaze.

For whatever reason– probably a petty one– Towa was in the background summoning lighting on the Capybus again. The now burnt creature groans blaringly, before collapsing to the ground. You feel the earth quake underneath you on impact and Haru immediately begins sprinting towards the vice-captain’s side.

Turning his head for a brief moment, the Jabberwock Captain shouts back at you. “Hold that thought, (Y/N)!”

You watch as Haru begins scolding Towa for his mischievous behavior and makes an attempt to tend to the defeated mammoth sized creature. Needless to say, the whole debacle took longer than anticipated to resolve.

You didn't hold that thought.

–

Attempt Four.

You had just returned to the cathedral not even an hour ago. The classes scheduled today had come to an end and you were now sitting at your couch in your room, reading a book. A vibration on the coffee table breaks your attention from the novel in front of you. Leaning forward, you pick up your phone and notice a text notification from Haru. You open the message without hesitation.

‘Please come over tonight so we can have a date! 🥰🥰🥰’ 2:22 pm

Holy shit. Is this for real?

‘Yes, okay. What time?’ 2:22 pm

You wait with anticipation for probably another several minutes before another text comes in.

‘I'm so sorry, (Y/N)! Please disregard that message. (╥﹏╥) Towa took my phone and just started typing smzjdjwnsvehwjsv.’ 2:27 pm

Damn. Well, you can't say you're too surprised. But why let this opportunity go to waste? You almost confessed to him not that long ago, anyway.

‘Really? I was really hoping it was for real this time 😫💔!’ 2:27 pm

This time, a reply doesn't come for so long that you begin reading again.

‘Haha! Always goofing around, I like that! I'll make sure to put a lock on my phone so it doesn't happen again. Sorry for the trouble! ヅ’ 2:39 pm

‘Haru, I'm not joking.’ 2:39 pm

Surely. SURELY he can't dodge this one. You even left out emojis this time!

A minute or so later, your phone starts ringing. Haru is calling you.

Promptly, you answer, bringing the phone to your ear. “Good afternoon, Haru~”

You hear background noise on the other end. It's distorted, but you're pretty sure it's the nonsensical jabber coming from some of the anomalous farm animals. “(Y/N), I got your text. I wanted to call you to be sure of your tone before responding properly!”

“That's very cute of you,” You flirt shamelessly.

You hear Haru's adorable nervous laughter on the other end. “Aaah, I try? Actually, no wait! I wasn't trying there. Scratch that!”

“I really like you, Haru,” You confess with conviction. “I don't want you to mistake my text as a joke. I wanted to tell you a few days ago, before Towa zapped the Capybus. And Towa knows too.”

You can practically hear the nervous panic in the Jabberwock Captain's voice. “Aah, really? I guess that explains a lot, haha… Okay. Let's do this properly, then.”

You feel your stomach flip at his words.

“You can come over tonight and we can have dinner. How does that sound?” Haru asks.

“That sounds like a dream,” You reply.

“Ahaha, you're such a flatterer…! Come by around seven? I will make us something! But it probably won't be done until around eight, I think. I just don't want to make you walk around past dark!”

Ugh, he's so cute.

“Okay. I would love that, Haru.”

“GYAAH…! Wait, come back here!” You hear Haru shout at an anomalous animal. “Sorry. I'll talk to you later, (Y/N). Gotta bounce!”

“No problem, see you soon.”

With that, you end the call and immediately run towards your wardrobe to plan your outfit for the night.

You arrive at the Jabberwock House around the planned time. Usually, you would just barge in, but this time you're practicing date etiquette, so you knock on the door and wait.

You definitely made sure to put effort into your appearance this time. Before arriving, you went to the trouble of applying makeup and even styling your hair. Most of the time, you didn't do either. After all, when you weren't taking classes or running errands for Darkwick, you were getting all sweaty tending to the farm at Jabberwock.

Accompanying your glam, you chose a modest dress and cardigan to go over it. You wanted to make it obvious that you were serious about this for the dense Captain, but didn't want to do so much that he would find it off putting.

It didn't take long before Haru opened the door. He was wearing his normal casual wear, with an apron over it all. Haru even had oven mitts on, likely from still being in the process of cooking.

God he's so…

“(Y/N)...! Sorry for the wait–” Haru's words die in his mouth, as he assesses your appearance. “Aah… t-this is really happening isn't it?”

You take a step inside, boldly standing just inches from him. It wasn't as if you hadn't gotten close to him before, but this is the first time he understood your intentions.

“Need help?” You ask, your lips tugging into a playful smirk.

Haru closes the door behind you, staring down at you rigidly. “I, uhm… N-No, I can take care of it! You look so cute! I'm sorry, I didn't have much time to dress nicer.”

“You look very handsome, as always,” You assure him.

You can't help but notice that he spritzed some cologne before your arrival. Traces of sandalwood and amber fill your nostrils at the proximity. If Haru had the idea to use cologne, he must have planned on getting close like this, right? The mere notion leaves your heart hammering like a drum.

“Ah, you really think so?” Haru asks and the question sounds sincere. Like he hasn't the faintest clue of the effect he has on you.

“Of course.” You slip your arms around his waist, pulling him into a gentle hug. “It's been a couple of days since I've seen you. I really missed you.”

Haru's heart beats rapidly against his chest, so loud that you can easily hear it right now. “I really missed you too, (Y/N),” The Jabberwock Captain replies, his voice raising an octave at the admission. This time, he returns the hug without patting you platonically.

The sound of the stove going off startles Haru out of the embrace. “Oh! I'll be right back, the oven is preheated.” The Captain begins walking briskly towards the kitchen.

You look around. There's currently no sign of Towa, Ren, or even Peekaboo. That makes you wonder if they already know about your date. You remove your shoes and make your way over to the couch, before plopping down.

It wasn't long before Haru returned, frantically making his way over to you. The Captain sits to your left, a few feet from you, reaching for the remote to the tv on the coffee table. He immediately relinquishes it to you. “Ah, here! You can pick whatever you want to watch.”

You hum, pointing the remote in the direction of the TV. It rested on top of an entertainment center in the middle of the room. Clicking the power button on, you watch the television come to life. “What do you like to watch, usually?”

“It's been so long since I've had time, I can't really remember!” Haru admits, laughing awkwardly. “I will be okay with anything, though.”

“I'll hold you to that,” You tease. Daringly, you scoot right next to Haru to where your hips are touching. An audible gulp sounds from the man next to you when your legs meet.

“Where's Peekaboo?”

“... I pleaded with Ren to watch him for the evening,” Haru answers. He regards you tentatively, as if he's not sure what to do with his hands.

“I see.” Helping him out, you lace your fingers with his left hand as you look for a streaming platform. “Is this okay?” You ask for his permission softly.

“Yes! Yes, of course it is!” Haru attempts to relax back into the couch behind him, though his posture remains somewhat rigid– you can only assume from nerves.

He is too freaking cute.

Following by example, you settle yourself back into the couch cushion, then nestle your head against Haru's shoulder. This was seriously the pique of comfort and you couldn't be any more elated. You randomly select a movie, a thriller you think. The description hadn't been interesting enough to hold your full attention before you played it, though you're not sure anything could right now.

At some point during the intro of the movie, you feel Haru's free hand slip onto your partially exposed thigh. Butterflies stir in your stomach as you observe his gloved thumb rubbing small circles against your skin.

“Haru,” You say.

The Jabberwock Captain stills his hand, for the moment. “Y-Yes…?”

“Did you feel anything for me before I confessed to you today? Romantically.”

Haru haltingly resumes the subtle movements of his fingers against your skin. “Ah… it might be more strange if I didn't. You are always helping me, even when I know you have your hands full. You're so good with Peekaboo and the other animals. And you're very pretty, (Y/N).”

You absorb his answer for a while after he says it. Your eyes are unfocused on the movie playing in front of you. Some guy is getting his ass kicked on screen. You're pretty sure you don't even know the main character's name.

“You could have told me that all those times I was hitting on you, ya know,” You tease.

“I-I wasn't sure if you really meant it,” Haru counters.

“You're so cute.” Craning your head forward, you land a chaste kiss on the closest place your lips would land in your current position. That place happens to be the side of Haru's neck.

The Jabberwock Captain's hand clamps firmly on your thigh as he gasps involuntarily from the contact. Warmth crawls up the base of his neck and you admire with satisfaction as the tips of his ears turn bright red.

“Y-You really know how to make a fella nervous,” Haru remarks, a nervous chuckle tumbling from his mouth.

You nestle yourself back into his side, thoroughly amused by his jitters. “Don't be, it's just me. We can just watch the movie and I'll let up… for now.”

The last bit of your sentence was meant to be glib, rather than a reflection of your actual intentions, but Haru appears even more restless after the words leave your mouth. You return your attention towards the screen ahead. It takes a bit of time, but eventually his heart rate slows to a more normal pace as he relaxes fully into the cuddling.

You're not sure what Haru has in the oven, but it's taking a while. The movie you picked was boring enough that it wasn't really holding your interest. Hopefully Haru liked it more than you did. The warmth of the kind Captain at your side brings so much solace and relief that you find yourself inevitably drifting off to sleep.

By the time you wake, the lights are already off, but the dimly lit screen of the flat screen just ahead, illuminates the room you're in. Something else plays, it looks like an animation you don't recognize and the volume is now exponentially more quiet. You're also in a new position, lying your head on a throw pillow, with a thin blanket covering you. And you happen to be laying on your left side. You must have been moving around a lot in your sleep.

Shit, wasn't Haru cooking something for the both of you? And you went and dozed off for how long?

Mild panic settles in and you really hope you didn't offend the Jabberwock Captain. You knew it was highly unlikely that was the case, but this was your first date. Haru probably wouldn't often have the time for such things. Where was he, anyways?

You're about to sit up when you feel a hand move to your hip. Said sneaky hand begins tracing small languid circles, not dissimilar to the ones you felt earlier. Though, this time it felt more suggestive based on your current position. You're so touch starved at this point that you begin to feel heat pool in your loins from something most would consider so kosher.

Haru must be lying behind you. And who else? Certainly not Towa. He was touchy but you can't imagine he'd do this considering how you felt about Haru. You want to turn around to confirm, but for some reason that typical bravado you try to maintain around him is completely flopping right now. Maybe you could try to ask.

“Haru…?”

The hand, now on your waist, stills. But it doesn't leave. “Oh, you're awake. I hope this is okay. You were flopping around like a fish once you fell asleep, so I tried to make it more comfortable for you,” Haru explains, amusement lacing his voice.

The idea of him still taking care of you long after you had fallen asleep on him makes your stomach do backflips. How was this man so effortlessly sexy without even trying? Is it too soon to start making advances? Because at this point, you don't know what to do with yourself.

“Haru, I don't mean to alarm you, but I'm warning you now. I'm extremely turned on right now.”

You swear you hear the Jabberwock Captain choke on air behind you at the declaration. “... O-Oh?” Haru's hand tenses on your waist.

“I'm going to turn around. If you have any objections, you should let me know now,” You warn.

Haru remains silent for a few moments and for a second you worry that you're about to be rejected. “... No. No objections from this guy.”

Without hesitation, you flip around on your side. Haru's face is just inches from yours, his expression a mixture of trepidation and anticipation. He's flushed beautifully as he peers back at you. You pull your hands up from underneath the blanket cloaking the both of you, then delicately bring them to cup his face.

“So sweet,” You murmur as you close the distance fully, joining your lips with his.

Haru responds immediately, scooping you in as close as possible with his left hand. He returns the kiss eagerly, abandoning all shyness he may have felt moments before.

Haru's lips taste like lavender salve, something he must have put on in preparation for your date to cure any chapped skin that may have been there before. You don't mind. Your lips continue to interlock with his over and over again in an onslaught. Eventually, you find yourself wrapping your arms around the Jabberwock Captain's neck, searching for a closeness that only intertwining souls might achieve.

Haru takes the initiative, slipping his tongue past your lips, coaxing you to take it all a step further. And you oblige, tilting your head as you press yourself flush against him, allowing the kiss to deepen. Haru is warm, he tastes like spearmint. Haru is inviting, like the sun. You want to explore the light he radiates and the heat that comes with it.

You feel your cardigan begin to slip from your shoulders. You're so preoccupied with the fervid makeout session that you don't even realize that Haru is peeling it away on his own. It wasn't until the red-head broke the kiss to relocate his lips to your neck that you piece it all together. You gasp for air, partially from the lack of it during your heated exchange. But mostly because you feel his tongue press against your throat as he litters you with countless clumsy kisses. You feel his teeth graze once your twice, each time it elicits a pathetic whimper from your lungs.

“Fuck, Haru. I want you,” You blabber out, mindlessly.

Maybe it was reckless, considering you just addressed your feelings. But how the hell do you just stop now?

Haru, who had already been making his kisses trail farther down to your clavicle, barely separates himself from you to respond. His voice comes out raspy. “Y-You… You're sure?”

It seems almost ridiculous to ask such a thing, considering that you're already hyper aware of the tent having formed in his pants that was now pressing invasively against your thigh.

“I don't think I've ever been more sure of anything in my life,” You deadpan.

Haru hums in contentment, wrapping his arms securely around you as he buries his face into your chest. “Anything you want, I'll be happy to be of service,” He murmurs against you.

You're seriously in love with him.

Just when you're about to continue getting this show on the road, the overhead light flickers on. The sudden change in the room's brightness startles Haru enough to sit upright from you.

“It worked!” Towa declares from the front entrance. The ball of sunshine is beaming brightly after he voices his snap judgment assessment of your compromising position. You suppose there is nothing else to think, with Haru basically on top of you.

“GYAAAH…!” Haru removes himself from you so quickly that he almost stumbles off the couch. “T-TOWA, AT LEAST ANNOUNCE YOURSELF! HOW LONG WERE YOU THERE?”

Towa merely snickers impishly, blatantly ignoring the question directed at him to address you. “I'm glad your wish came true, Dandelion!”

Your face burns bright, but you manage a smile, paired with an awkward chuckle. Sitting up fully yourself, you respond to him. “Yeah, you're like a real life fairy, Towa.”

“What wish?” Haru interjects, cluelessly.

Towa’s face splits into a shit-eating grin before he bolts up the steps.

“H-Hey, wait you didn't answer…!” The protest dies in Haru's mouth as his vice-captain makes a hasty retreat. “Aaah, and he's gone.”

“Pfffft,” You stifle a laugh when you notice Haru's aghast expression. “Well… in his defense, this isn't the most private place to be fooling around at.”

Haru lets out a breathy sigh. “Yeah, you're right.” The Captain gets to his feet, holding his hand out for you to take. “My room?”

Your heart flutters, as you admire him in the now bright light. Placing your hand in his, you nod. “Kay.”

Once the two of you begin to make your way to Haru's bedroom, he pops the question again.

“So what was the promise Towa mentioned?”

#tokyo debunker #fanfic #fan fiction #haru sagara #haru sagara/reader

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elyvorg · 10 months ago

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Kieran Part 2: It’s All About YOU

Well, looks like The Indigo Disk didn’t remotely drop the ball – it caught it in incredible style! Pokémon’s best character-writing job yet has been followed up and capped off with, if anything, something even better. Kieran is far and away the most complex and well-written character that mainline Pokémon has ever achieved, and I am here to talk about the second half of why this is, in very great detail. Consider me just, blown away. I have So Many Feelings about this boy.

This is of course a follow-up to my earlier analysis post about Kieran’s character and arc during The Teal Mask, which you can find here. Reading that before this is recommended!

(This will contain a couple of brief references to some post-epilogue lines, so if you haven’t got to that stuff yet and you really care about seeing it completely fresh, you might want to hold off on reading this for now. But there’s no actual spoilers for the epilogue itself in here, because, whoops, I think I’m gonna have to cover all of that in yet another post of its own.)

(Like last time, I will be largely referring to the player character as “you” for convenience, although I may shift into third person occasionally when I’m talking about the vague implications of a personality that they are given, since that’s a little more relevant this time.)

The gaping pit of inferiority

First, though, before getting into The Indigo Disk, I want to re-establish where Kieran’s character ended up at the end of Teal Mask, now that I have a clearer idea of exactly how that relates to where things are headed.

Kieran was always gripped by an aching inferiority complex, one too huge and unbearable for him to ever face directly. Prior to Teal Mask, he’d coped with that by clinging to the figure of the ogre as an ideal of strength. He imagined that maybe one day if he managed to grow strong enough to be just like it, the ogre would acknowledge him and be his friend – and that would finally mean that he mattered and he really was strong after all. He finally wouldn’t have to deal with the crushing pain of his inferiority complex any more.

But then, of course, you swept in with your amazingly perfect protagonist strength, ripping away Kieran’s chance of ever befriending Ogerpon and doing so in the most tragically agonising way possible that only seemed to validate and hammer home to him just how hopelessly weak he really is. Left with nothing but an even bigger gaping pit of inferiority inside him, and no longer able to cling to the idea of Ogerpon as a way for him to one day escape it, the only thing Kieran could do in order to cope was find something else to latch onto: you.

You became a greater ideal of strength to Kieran than even Ogerpon ever was during the events of Teal Mask, so now he’s hung everything on the thought of making himself strong enough to prove he’s just as good as you. If he can become strong enough to beat you, surely that of all things will be enough to prove that he matters and isn’t weak at all. It’s the only thing he can conceive of that might just free him from the grip of his terrifyingly massive inferiority complex, and he’s clinging onto it for dear life, striving for it to the point of obsession.

I saw a lot of people talk in the lead-up to this DLC like it was going to be about Kieran wanting revenge on you, but that’s not remotely it. He isn’t even able to comprehend the idea that anything you did to him could be considered wrong in the first place; that’s just how things were meant to go when you’re strong and he’s weak, right? Even though it was you who took everything away from him and made him feel so crushingly inferior, that pales in his mind next to how incredibly strong you are and how badly he needs to be like that himself. This isn’t even about him getting another shot at winning over Ogerpon, either – as much as you having become her trainer is a huge source of pain and jealousy for him, he seems to have pretty much accepted that there’s no changing that now.

What Kieran actually, consciously wants out of all this is… well, it’s extremely vague and nebulous, but that’s precisely the point, because there is no rationality involved in any of it. What is he really hoping to gain from it, when (if) he beats you? For you to decide to be his friend after all? For him to instantly become happy and finally feel strong? For him to magically turn into you and have all the good things you have that he envies about you? Obviously none of those things would necessarily happen, but Kieran is not consciously thinking any of this through to its logical endpoint. He’s not actually hoping to get a specific Thing out of beating you – he just desperately, indescribably feels like he needs to beat you, more than anything else in the world.

What Kieran really needs out of this deep down is for you, this person he’s warped himself into idolising as the Strongest Most Perfect Person Ever, to acknowledge him and his strength. It’s just like he wanted Ogerpon to acknowledge him before, shifted onto a new target of idolisation and grown far more desperately obsessive. If you of all people acknowledged him, then just maybe it might actually be true that he really is strong and worth something after all. At its most fundamental level, Kieran has always just deeply needed to gain a sense of self-worth, and yet his self-esteem is so horribly low that he’s basically incapable of doing so on his own without outside validation. But I really don’t think he’s aware on a conscious level that this is what he needs and what he’s striving to get out of all this.

(And of course there’s no way you’d ever acknowledge him and his worth as a person anyway, right? He thought you’d maybe done that when you called him a friend back in Kitakami, but any fleeting hope of gaining self-worth that way evaporated when you went and lied to him, validating his fears that obviously you’d couldn’t possibly have meant it. After all, why would someone as strong as you ever want to be friends with someone weak like him? The only way you’d ever possibly acknowledge his worth is if he conclusively proved that he’s even stronger than you, by defeating you in battle.)

Blueberry Academy

The other thing I want to do before getting into the events of The Indigo Disk itself is to re-evaluate a few assumptions I made about Blueberry Academy in the previous post, now that we’ve actually seen it for ourselves.

I was assuming that a significant part of the reason for Kieran’s inferiority complex was due to him being bullied at Blueberry, but… there’s absolutely zero indication from any of the NPC dialogue that any such thing happened. If the writers wanted this to be a fact that was relevant to Kieran’s character, they absolutely would have put something in. However, in hindsight, I realise that maybe I was primed to assume a bullying problem at Blueberry due to the Team Star storyline, when actually, Kieran being bullied there doesn’t necessarily fit. His issues about being shunned and his paranoia that people are laughing at him behind his back are so ingrained that they have to have originated from quite a while ago in his childhood – and he’s only a first-year at Blueberry.

So, scratch that part of the previous post: Kieran was not bullied at Blueberry Academy, but he was almost certainly bullied earlier on in his childhood, at whatever school(s) he attended beforehand. It wouldn’t necessarily have needed to be a really overt, physical kind of bullying either – that’s the sort of thing that Carmine would certainly have noticed and protected him from. But even something more low-key like being constantly left out of things and looked down on by others would have left a huge psychological mark on him, and would have probably been too subtle for his socially oblivious sister to do much about. (Or, in some ways, she might just have made such things worse by being so fiercely overprotective of him. Most people wouldn’t want to go near the kid with the Scary Big Sister who’ll bite their head off if they so much as look at him wrong.)

Bullying aside, I was looking for any kind of clues at all from the NPCs as to what Kieran was like at Blueberry Academy before his big change… and there’s almost nothing. Plenty of people comment on Kieran now, because everyone knows who he is as the Champion, but nobody shows surprise that it was this timid kid who rose up and beat Drayton. It seems that as far as most of the students are concerned, he just came out of nowhere. But maybe that’s the point; maybe almost nobody ever even noticed him or thought anything of him at all until he grew stronger. By the time he joined Blueberry Academy, Kieran’s default coping mechanism must have been to make himself as small and invisible as possible, so that basically nobody even really thought twice about him.

Only two whole NPCs actually make any kind of reference to what Kieran was like before he became Champion. (Well, other than Carmine, of course, and also discounting Amarys because she’d have only known Kieran through her friendship with his sister.) One of them is Drayton, who’d noticed him as the incredibly shy kid who nonetheless lit up with joy more than anyone else when watching battles. And then there is one random NPC you can find in the Central Plaza who comments on how Kieran has turned into a completely different person. That’s it. Only two people happened to have noticed this timid kid enough to realise he’s the same guy who suddenly became Champion. (And, while they both seem at least a little concerned, neither of them appear to have outright considered Kieran a friend, because of course not. You really were the first friend he’d ever managed to make, until everything went horribly wrong.)

One thing I was expecting to get from the vibe at Blueberry that it absolutely did deliver, mind you, was the culture around battling. There’s all sorts of talk about battling and getting stronger, double battles as standard to make things more strategic, and even the random NPC trainers can actually be kind of challenging. So I was definitely right that this culture must have contributed to Kieran fixating on getting stronger and proving himself to you through gaining more battling strength in particular. One NPC near the entrance also remarks that “you don’t look strong”, as if people here assume battling strength to be correlated with physical appearance, which… yeah, that explains a bit about why Kieran felt he needed to look different alongside becoming stronger in battle, doesn’t it.

Changing himself

Of course, Kieran’s reasons for changing up his appearance go much deeper than just wanting to superficially “look stronger”. In order to achieve the nigh-impossible feat of managing to match you in strength, he felt like he had to become nothing short of a completely different person. He can’t be anything like that timid, weak, pathetic kid from Kitakami who got walked all over, because there’s no way that kid would ever, ever be able to beat you.

Which means that absolutely everything about who he used to be needed to get thrown away. That hairstyle that practically covered his face and let him hide himself behind it? Gone. His country accent and way of talking due to being raised in Kitakami? That always made him feel different and outcast among the students at Blueberry already, but more than that, it’s a distinctive feature of that kid he used to be and cannot be any more, so he had to cast it away and learn to mask it. Even the unambiguously good parts of him – the way he’d always get so excited and passionate over things he finds cool! – they’re a part of his old self, so they had to go, no exceptions. Far be it from him to ever say “wowzers” any more, for more than one reason. His old hairstyle may have been the one that visually resembled a mask, but now he’s putting on much more of a metaphorical mask than he ever was before. (Putting on a mask to become stronger and hide his reasons to be cast out and shunned – a bit like a certain ogre.)

(And since Kieran’s just on the cusp of puberty, I find it fun to imagine that maybe his voice happened to start breaking in the interim between the two DLCs, so that he doesn’t just talk differently and mask his accent, his voice literally sounds different now compared to how it did before.)

Unfortunately for Kieran, no amount of fervently doing everything in his power to change and grow stronger can make his growth spurt come any sooner. It seems it hasn’t happened quite yet, leaving him awkwardly still the smallest person in the room even as he is trying to project an air of being Strong and Tough now. He gets around this as best he can by adopting a mannerism of taking a step back from people, to give him less of an angle to look up at, and tilting his head far enough back that he can kinda sorta still be looking down on them, in a sense. He is so desperate to not feel small any more.

(Fittingly – or ironically, perhaps – you are the one relevant person who is the same height as Kieran and can face him eye-to-eye. That’s bound to be feeding into his complex about you: all the other people he looked up to and saw as stronger than him were older than him and so they had a good reason to be that strong – but you and he are the same age. You should be his equal, and yet you can already do and have all these things that he could only dream of.)

And his timid demeanour isn’t the only thing from before that Kieran cast away – he also got rid of almost his entire team of Pokémon from those battles back in Kitakami. Nearly all of them went the same way as poor Furret and Cramorant before them, because they weren’t strong enough to win him that vital battle that would definitely have decided who got to become Ogerpon’s partner (right?), so there’s no way they’d ever be able to help him beat you now. The only exception to this is Dipplin, perhaps precisely because Kieran knew it was capable of evolving again and so still had more strength it had yet to show him. The rest of his team got completely overhauled, no doubt informed by his fervent studies in battling strategies to let him put together the strongest and most optimal team he could come up with.

I nearly had a whole spiel here about how excruciating it is that his new team has a Politoed, in that he could almost have kept another of his old partners from his Kitakami team if he hadn’t hastily evolved Poliwhirl into the less strategically-optimal evolution as part of his efforts to prove himself to you during Teal Mask. Except, actually, a postgame line implies that Kieran’s Politoed is also a longtime partner of his, along with his Poliwrath, like they’re a pair. So it’s not that he went and caught a “replacement” Poliwag that he was less attached to – apparently he always had two Poliwag friends from the start and just only ever trained up one of them to use against you in Teal Mask. Then, when that one had failed to be good enough for him, it was the other one’s turn to prove how strong it could really be.

As for his other new team members: Porygon-Z and Incineroar are both available in the Terarium, but Grimmsnarl is only available, to Kieran at least, in Kitakami. So that must be another one he’d caught during the school trip, maybe a candidate he’d considered training up back then but never quite had the time to alongside the rest of his team. And then there’s Dragonite, which is an interesting one, because the Dratini line is nowhere in either Kitakami or the Terarium – meaning, Kieran must have gone out of his way to trade for it in order to get one. Perhaps he was really impressed by the strength of Drayton’s Dragonite and wanted one of his own to match that? (but his has a very different build to Drayton’s, so it’s fine, he’s definitely not just copying Drayton in order to win, okay.) I like to think that maybe he got it from Carmine, who’d apparently been visiting loads of other regions with Briar during Kieran’s obsessive training arc and therefore could have been in a position to catch a Dratini.

More importantly than just catching these new Pokémon, though, would have been training them, which Kieran threw himself into so obsessively that it and studying battling strategies now consume every single moment he has, to a concerningly unhealthy degree. He’s cutting back on sleep, barely eating proper meals, because spending any more time than necessary on even things like basic physical needs is not acceptable to him. You are so overwhelmingly, impossibly strong in his mind that, in order to match your strength, Kieran feels like he has to give everything, no matter the cost to himself.

Being Champion

And, well, his fervent desperate self-destructive training did indeed make him strong enough to become Champion of the BB League. It’s only a stepping stone, a means to an end for his ultimate goal of being strong enough to beat you – but it’s something. As Champion, Kieran’s known to everyone in the school, getting awed murmurs wherever he shows up. People respect him now, because he’s proven that he's strong. (The very converse of how everyone ignored and shunned him back when he was weak. That’s how it goes, right?) And on top of that, he’s earned himself a position of authority over everyone in the League Club.

…Frankly, it’s a very stupid rule the club has to make the Champion be automatically in charge of the whole thing, precisely because of situations like this, in which the trainer who happens to be strongest also happens to be someone nobody else wants bossing them around. But thanks to that stupid rule existing, Kieran’s in charge now, and everyone else has to do what he says whether they like it or not, because he’s the strongest of all of them. Way to validate and perpetuate Kieran’s toxic worldview that having strength (battling strength) means you get to call the shots and walk all over anybody who’s weaker than you, and that’s just how things work.

Our first glimpse of how drastically Kieran’s changed, the interaction we see him having with that one poor club member, is bound to be the epitome of how he’s been treating everyone in the club these days. And he is not simply being a dick for the hell of it just because he can now and he’s turned Edgy or whatever – everything about his behaviour here is agonisingly rooted in his own deeply ingrained worldview about strength and weakness.

It's so tragically telling how he phrases his scathing disapproval of the poor guy as, “So that means you’re just OK being this weak forever? That what I’m hearing?” That’s not at all what the guy was saying, but Kieran hears it that way because he can’t help but see his own former, weaker self everywhere he looks. At the end of Teal Mask, he was trapped in that horrible pit of feeling like there was nothing he could do except be this weak forever, unless he devoted himself obsessively to becoming stronger and stronger and stronger with everything he had. Any tiny sign of weakness in anybody else reminds him of that place, reminds him that the only reason he’s not trapped there himself right now is because he’s spending every waking moment trying to claw his way out.

The guy’s reason for not completing Kieran’s training assignment wasn’t even that he didn’t want to do it. He said he’d had hectic stuff going on at home that meant he didn’t have time, which ought to be a perfectly reasonable excuse! But… not to Kieran, it isn’t. Kieran has sacrificed everything to become as strong as he is, even basic physical self-care; he would have chosen training over busy home-life stuff in a heartbeat. Anyone who isn’t willing to do the same, anyone to whom growing stronger isn’t the most important thing in the world – they’re not good enough. They must obviously just want to stay weak forever, like Kieran himself absolutely could not bear to be. So he kicks the poor guy out of the club, thus dooming him, in Kieran’s view, to really being stuck this weak forever with no chance to improve.

It's bound to be just like this for everyone else in the club, too, based on plenty of comments we hear about how Kieran becoming Champion has taken the fun out of everything, and the ridiculously strict rules he’s apparently put in place. He’s projecting his own unhealthily high standards of strength onto everyone else, then shunning them if they don’t manage to live up to that, because that’s just what happens to people who are weak, right? It is agonising to watch Kieran perpetuating the exact same toxicity that he used to always feel like he was on the receiving end of, especially as that isn’t even really why he was ever treated that way.

None of this is the behaviour of someone who is even remotely secure and confident in their strength. Despite being Champion and having the respect of the entire school, Kieran is still constantly terrified that even the slightest thing, even so much as allowing a tiny instance of “weakness” in anyone associated with him, will cause all of the strength he’s worked so hard to build to come crashing down in an instant. (One detail I really love about the scene where he’s telling that one guy off is the way Kieran’s tapping his foot at the beginning. He probably means it as a way to express impatience, but really it comes across as incredibly anxious and insecure. The animators did some excellent stuff with Kieran in this DLC.)

And what’s extra heartbreaking is that Kieran doesn’t need to be doing any of this. He’s the Champion now; he is undeniably strong; he’s able to talk to others; people notice and respect him. He is already in a position to reach out and grasp everything he’s ever wanted: acknowledgement, friendship, fun. He used to love battling – he’s supposed to love battling – so he could be having a great time with all this! If he just dropped this toxic mindset and stopped letting it turn him into a massive jerk, he could make friends with the Elite Four and others in the League Club and not be alone any more!

But he’s not able to see any of that. None of the things he’s already genuinely gained for himself truly feel like they matter, not when they’re all just a means to an end for the one thing that does – proving he can beat you. By desperately hanging his entire self-worth on the idea of becoming strong enough to measure up to you and nobody else, Kieran has blinded himself to the fact that he’s already found a good amount of what he’d always truly wanted in the first place. And it also means that, if he can’t beat you when that day comes, everything he’s done will be for nothing.

Drayton and Carmine

But although nobody is happy with the way things are now (least of all Kieran himself), it seems only a couple of people have been willing to question Kieran’s “authority” enough to try and talk him out of this.

One of them is Drayton, who’s doing this not just out of wanting his club to go back to normal, but also because he’s the almost-only person to have noticed the timid yet battle-loving kid Kieran used to be, and he genuinely wants to help Kieran remember how to have fun like that again. Unfortunately, it seems that any of Drayton’s attempts to tell him this bounced right off Kieran, because fun and excitement were a part of that weak kid he used to be and absolutely cannot be any more.

Plus, with his newfound authority and validation of his toxic worldview, Kieran would easily be able to brush off anything Drayton said to him with the excuse that he doesn’t have to listen to someone who can’t beat him. He actually mentions at one point that Drayton “always loses” to him, implying they’ve battled more than once. Apparently, in an attempt to get Kieran to listen, Drayton actually went and challenged him to a rematch at some point, or maybe even several – a remarkable amount of effort, coming from Drayton – but he still couldn’t win.

(Kieran is bound to be super jealous of the way Drayton appears so effortless in his strength, when Kieran himself had to train and strive so hard to reach this level. But on the flip side, now that Kieran is the stronger one, he can use Drayton’s laziness as another way to paint himself as superior. Obviously the reason Drayton keeps losing to him is because he doesn’t train nearly as hard as Kieran does.)

It also doesn’t help that Drayton’s attitude towards Kieran when he’s not specifically trying to encourage him to have fun again is very sarcastic and condescending, drawing from his deep frustration at Kieran’s attitude. It must be very easy for Kieran to completely overlook the part where Drayton is actually doing this because he cares – he probably feels that Drayton just hates him and wants him gone. (Just like everyone who’d always shun him and treat him like an outcast before, right.)

Then there’s Carmine, who’s been incredibly worried about the change in her brother and is bound to have done her fair share of trying to talk him out of this too, evidently also to no effect. It’s certainly easy for Kieran to remain oblivious to the fact that she’s doing this because she cares about him and isn’t just trying to bring him down, since she has, uh, historically not been very good at showing that.

It seems that Kieran has largely been avoiding Carmine since he overhauled everything about himself. No doubt a lot of that is because, what with her being part of the reason for his inferiority complex in the first place, she’s capable of triggering his insecurities more intensely than anybody else can. But maybe it’s also partly because on some level, he’s aware that she’s got a point now with the things she’s trying to say to him, and that makes him feel bad, and have doubts that he can’t afford to be having. Carmine’s certainly right to be concerned that his behaviour now would be driving any friends of his away – although she is almost definitely wildly wrong to be assuming Kieran even had any friends other than you before all of this.

(For that matter, she’s very wrong to assume that you are still his friend right now in a totally normal way; ha ha ha. But then, based on your options of “yes” and “yes” when Drayton asks you if you're Kieran's friend, it seems that you – the player character – are also somehow completely oblivious to the fact that Kieran just maybe might not consider you a friend any more on his end. Which just makes this whole thing even more excruciating.)

The dynamic between the siblings during the one brief time we see them interact here has notably changed, in that Kieran is finally able to stand up for himself more, telling Carmine to shut up when she tells him off. And yet, he doesn’t do so very forcefully, averting his gaze in a way that suggests he just sort of mumbles it. He probably realises she has a point about what she was saying – that he shouldn’t act so condescending towards you. Which on Carmine’s end, she said because she doesn’t want him to drive away the one friend he still (supposedly) has, but that’s not how it’d read on Kieran’s end, because he doesn’t believe you ever were his friend at all. He must have felt like his sister has a point only because he doesn’t have the right to act that way towards you, not when he still hasn’t proven himself to you yet (and maybe never will).

Unexpected reunion

See, there’s a lot of interesting stuff going on under the surface of Kieran’s reaction to suddenly meeting you here. Literally everything he’s been doing this entire time has been for the sole purpose of defeating you when he sees you again. Which means that you showing up and challenging the BB League should be exactly what he wants and has always been waiting for. And yet.

The first notable thing is that he had nothing to do with inviting you here – the person responsible for that was Carmine. She probably figured that you’d be able to help her brother out, so she recommended you to the director when she heard he was looking for an exchange student to invite from Paldea. As Champion of the school, Kieran should also have had enough influence to make such a recommendation – but he didn’t.

Then, when Kieran comes to the cafeteria, he has plenty of condescending things to say to Drayton (about how taking a lunch break is a waste of time, because who needs to bother with basic physical needs like eating when they could be training instead, right). But the moment he sees you, he’s just shocked at you even being here… and then he’s very quiet for the entire rest of the conversation.

Drayton puts things to a vote among the Elites plus Kieran as to whether you should be allowed to join the BB League, and – despite that this should be exactly what he wants – Kieran is the last to vote. He only does so when he’s forced to break the tie.

(Although, it’s revealing in a different way that the Elite Four all ask each other for their opinions first, with none of them naturally thinking to consult Kieran. Despite his newfound strength and authority, he is still socially excluded – but this time he really has nobody but himself to blame.)

Kieran’s wording of how he casts his vote is so very telling. Just: “It doesn’t matter who I’m facing… I don’t lose.” – and he says nothing else before leaving in a huff. He words this in a generalised way, as if this an overarching principle of his that has nothing to do with you in particular, even though it’s always been about you. Because if he let himself think about how you in particular will be his opponent, then suddenly the statement that he doesn’t lose doesn’t feel so certain. But, put on the spot like this, he cannot show any sign that he’s afraid he might lose to you – that would be like giving up and accepting that all the effort he’s put in for all this time has been for nothing. So he has no choice but to let you join.

(Drayton totally knew he would refuse to lose face like this if put on the spot, of course, and that the Elites would vote 2-2 between them and leave Kieran with the deciding vote, which is precisely why he set things up this way. Kieran’s not unaware of this, either.)

There’s a brief interim here as you head to the front desk to officially sign up for the League. This gives Kieran a moment alone to process the fact that, welp, this really is happening, you’re really here, and, isn’t this supposed to be exactly what he always wanted? Hasn’t everything always been so that he can beat you this time? He manages to twist things around in his head, convince himself that yes, this is it, the chance he’s been waiting for, and he will win when it comes down to it, he will, because that’s what it’s all been for.

As such, when he shows up at the front desk to confirm that he’s allowing you to join, Kieran is able to be a lot more direct about you challenging him than he was in his one whole sentence on the topic in the cafeteria. Even then, he makes a comment to Drayton about how he feels like he was manipulated into this… then immediately insists that he’s fine with it because this is what he wanted anyway. If it was truly 100% what he wanted, he wouldn’t have felt manipulated!

To sum all of this up: it is abundantly, delightfully clear beneath the surface that Kieran does not actually feel ready to face you. He would never have felt ready for this, no matter how long he’d spent training and pushing himself, because your impossible unreachable strength and his own inherent worthlessness are both so deeply ingrained in his mind that he is incapable of truly believing he can match you.

But, well, here you are, and now Drayton’s trapped Kieran in this situation where he has no choice but to keep up the mask of strength and confidence he’s been putting on all this time. So he’s got to act like he’s fine with you challenging him, whether he truly feels ready or not.

Your Elite Four challenge

As you work your way through the Elite Four’s ranks to earn the right to challenge him, Kieran is very insistent that you’d better not dare lose to anybody else before facing him, or to have gotten weaker in any way since he last met you.

You might think that Kieran would be glad if you actually did lose to one of the Elite Four and never manage to make it to him, because, hey, that means he’s already stronger than you! He doesn’t even have to worry about whether he can win his battle against you! But… no, that wouldn’t be how it’s supposed to go. The way Kieran’s been building things up in his head the entire time, his whole life is supposed to magically somehow get better when he beats you. He needs to prove himself and his new strength to you, specifically. It wouldn’t mean anything if someone else beat you first, or if you’re somehow not actually still the impossibly strong person he’s idolised and fixated so hard on becoming equal to. That’d just be the most crushing anticlimax for him, in which he never gets to achieve what he’s been striving so hard for, and in which he’d have to somehow come to terms with the fact that… he’s already stronger than you, and yet he still doesn’t feel better or any less agonisingly inferior than he always did? If that happened, he’d be at a complete loss as to any other way to escape how he feels about himself.

But, fortunately for him (for some value of “fortunate”), you of course still are just as strong as you always were. On hearing you assure him of this, and also on seeing it for himself as he watches one of your Elite Four battles, Kieran gives this awful twisted grin that does not even slightly reach his eyes (because he has completely forgotten how to genuinely smile and no doubt hasn’t ever done so this entire time). Yes, he will still get to have his long-anticipated showdown with you, and winning that will still somehow magically definitely fix everything that was ever wrong in his life. Definitely.

There’s also the part where, because you come with such glowing recommendations, you get to skip working your way up the BB League from the very bottom and can start right at challenging the Elite Four. Kieran has to feel all kinds of ways about this – on the one hand, he’d tell himself he’s glad because this means he has less time to wait until the battle that he’s definitely totally ready for, and he knows full well that you wouldn’t need to waste your time on small fry at the bottom. But on the other hand… he had to painstakingly work his way all the way up from zero in order to get where he is, so it sure is something that you’re so special that you just get to skip doing that. (And if you did have to start at the bottom, then it’d give him more time to train himself, just to make absolutely sure that he really is ready to face you…)

When you’ve beaten the final Elite, Kieran shows up again and scoffs that this was kind of slow for you, wasn’t it? I believe this isn’t just posturing and was his genuine reaction – you’re so impossibly perfect in his mind that he can’t even comprehend the idea that you wouldn’t breeze through this effortlessly without a single hitch. But still, at least he can turn the fact that you fell short of his impossible expectations into condescension that helps him feel above you and definitely capable of beating you. (How long did it take him to beat the Elite Four, I wonder? Probably longer than you – but of course he’s not gonna bring that up.)

Drayton, meanwhile, has now picked up on the fact that Kieran isn’t just obsessed with winning like he’d initially thought – he’s obsessed with you. Maybe he’d have approached things a little differently if he’d been aware in the beginning that you were a lot more to Kieran than just an old friend. But, welp, bit too late to back out of what he’s set up now, whoops.

And on Kieran’s end, he hasn’t let go of the feeling of being manipulated into this, and now feels like you and Drayton are plotting against him. This poor kid’s paranoia and tendency to assume people are laughing at him behind his back has still not gone away, even if it’s taken on a slightly different form now. It’s probably a good thing he doesn’t ever learn that Carmine was the one who called you here, or he’d think she was in on this supposed conspiracy too.

(But, hey, while Kieran could never do anything about it before whenever he was ganged up on and shunned by others, at least now he’s finally strong enough to fight back and hold his own, despite being outnumbered, right? Just like the ogre did.)

THE BATTLE

So now, it’s finally time: the battle that Kieran has absolutely everything riding on. Of course I’ve already made it abundantly clear here that every single thing he’s done has been for the sole goal of beating you right here and now – but it says a lot that he spends his pre-battle speech making sure you know this. He probably feels like you’re such an amazing superstar trainer that challenging someone for their Champion title is basically just another Tuesday for you, like this is nothing on your end – but this battle is everything for him, everything that he’s been spending every single moment of every single day building up towards for all this time, and he needs you to acknowledge this.

And as if that wasn’t enough, as the battle opens, Kieran screams into the sky with the sheer uncontainable emotion of how much this means to him. Everything he’s been feeling, bottling up, clinging to for so long is spilling out of him now that he’s finally here in this one pivotal moment he’s always been waiting for.

It comes spilling out in a lot more than just that scream, too; he has so many things to say throughout the battle as it all reaches fever pitch inside him. While some of his in-battle dialogue during his Teal Mask fights had fun hints at his issues in there, this one battle here absolutely takes the cake. This is quite possibly the most dialogue in any battle in any Pokémon game, and all of it has something interesting and nuanced going on that’s rooted in Kieran’s massive issues. I cannot resist taking this opportunity to talk about every single bit of it.

His first line as the battle begins is, “I know I’m making the right choice… You’ll understand that soon enough!”, which seems kind of odd on the surface. What “choice” is he even talking about that he feels the need to justify? Accepting a challenge to his Champion position is just what Champions are meant to do. But that’s not what Kieran’s thinking about here – he’s thinking about all of those times that Drayton and Carmine tried to talk him down from the entire way he was acting and pushing himself too hard. Every time they did, he insisted to himself that no, training this insanely hard is the right choice, he needs to do this, and it’ll all be worth it when he beats you. …Somehow. Definitely. You’ll see, you will, you have to…!

On the very first hit he lands on you – it doesn’t even need to be super-effective, any damaging hit will trigger it – he says, “How do you like that? See how hard I’ve trained? Not like that kid you battled in Kitakami, huh?!” In reality, the hit he lands here isn’t necessarily any bigger than the kinds of hits he dealt to you back in Kitakami – but it feels bigger to Kieran. He’s trained so hard that he feels so much stronger and so different from the kid he was back then, and he needs you to see and acknowledge this too.

Meanwhile, your first super-effective attack you land on him manages to pierce through his mask for a moment and get a “wowzers” out of him. It’s not actually any more impressive than any other super-effective hit he might receive from any other trainer – but because it’s coming from you, it feels so much more incredible, triggering his instinctive irrational idolisation of you just for a moment before he collects himself and puts his mask back up.

Then he insists that he’ll still win anyway, even if “the type matchups work out for you”. Which… isn’t how type matchups in battles work? Sure, you landed one super-effective hit, either because one of your Pokémon happened to have a good matchup, or you just had a good coverage move. That doesn’t mean that all of the type matchups in the battle are inherently in your favour. But Kieran apparently feels like they are – because, when it comes to him versus you, he always feels like everything in the world is on your side and he has to claw and grasp to regain the tiniest bit of ground against his inherent overwhelming disadvantage.

Speaking of everything being on your side, when you land your first critical hit on him (and I say “when” here because this battle is long enough that statistically you’re extremely unlikely not to at some point!), his response is delightful, raging that “even luck’s chosen you over me!” and that it’s “not fair!!!” All of his bitterness and jealousy about Ogerpon choosing you over him is still raw, evidently, so even something like you getting a statistically near-inevitable critical hit feels to him like luck itself taking your side against him, because everything always does. And on some level, he may have realised that you befriending Ogerpon was partly due to the sheer luck of you happening to meet her while he wasn’t around, so of course he’s bitter about luck because of that, too. It’s not fair, how you always get everything, so effortlessly, while he has nothing.

(He doesn’t comment at all if and when he lands a critical hit, because of course not. Confirmation bias is one hell of a drug.)

And of course, you bringing out Ogerpon herself gets an extremely strong reaction from Kieran. “You’ve got some nerve,” he snarls among broken mirthless laughter, to bring her out “NOW of all times?!” This, right here and now, was supposed to be his moment, his time to finally shine and show you how strong he is and take the victory. And yet you’re choosing this moment to parade Ogerpon in front of him, a reminder of the painful losses and inferiority he suffered back in Kitakami that he’s tried so hard to forget and overcome by making himself stronger, just rubbing it in his face that you got to have her because you’re so strong and lucky and perfect.

His expression during this line is one hell of a thing as well: shocked and wide-eyed and practically terrified, in stark contrast to all of his other expressions in this fight. He’s not only reeling from the pain of having his inferiority from back then shoved in his face, but also, he’s always believed that Ogerpon is so incredibly strong. If you’re using her against him in this battle, you and her working together… how is he ever going to be able to defeat that combination of impossible strength…?

(Apparently, Kieran’s trainer AI actually has a modification in this fight that makes him prioritise attacking Ogerpon more than an AI trainer otherwise would, which is delightful, I love that that’s a thing devs programmed in there. Of course he’d desperately want to get Ogerpon off the field as fast as he could before she utterly destroys him.)

As his back’s against the wall and he’s sending out his final Pokémon, Kieran’s still raging, with increasing desperation: “Just go down already! How are you still standing after I’ve thrown everything I have at you?!” This battle is not at all going how he’d insistently imagined it would in his head, in which he’d prove himself and win, not even though he’s giving it absolutely everything he has. (And the thought that you still won’t go down even then is terrifying to him. He really has given everything to this, he couldn’t possibly have done more – and yet, what if that still isn’t enough to beat you? That’d mean it’s just impossible for him, no matter what he does, and he’d have absolutely no idea how to cope with that.)

Just before he Terastallises his Hydrapple, he insists that he “doesn’t need the old me”, that he’s changed – here’s the way he felt he had no choice but to throw away everything about his former weaker self in order to get stronger, even the positive parts. But then he adds, “and I’ll show you I can change again!” He’s not just literally referring to the Terastallisation he’s about to do (although it’s thematically fitting that he brings up this topic as he’s doing this – and his Hydrapple’s Fighting Tera-type is a neat link to him having changed himself into being obsessed with strength) – rather, he’s referring to what he’s convinced himself will happen when (if) he wins this fight. That’ll change everything for him, right? That’ll make everything good, finally; he’s going to change for the better once he wins this, he has to…!

And then�� Kieran’s animation while he’s Terastallising is an odd one. He’s remarkably expressionless about it, compared to the intensity of his expressions in the entire rest of the fight. But I think the reason for this must be: most trainers wince with the force of it as they begin charging their Tera Orb – and apparently, Kieran doesn’t want to be seen doing that, because that’d make him seem weak. So he’s trained himself to put on an expressionless mask, not even looking at the orb directly, to avoid that. (And one of the few trainers who doesn’t wince, who’s able to stare directly at the dazzling power coming from their Tera Orb without flinching, holding it up for all to see… it’s you, of course. Kieran almost certainly saw this from you a few times back in Kitakami.)

His last possible line in the fight, as he orders an attack from his Hydrapple, at which point he is guaranteed to have only one or two Pokémon left and be desperately fighting to hold on with his back against the wall, includes him saying, “I’m capable of winning too, you know!” Because that is definitely a very normal thing for a reigning Champion to need to say to their challenger. Even with all the victories he’s had on his way here, Kieran still has to fight to convince himself that he is capable of winning, because being up against you and teetering on the brink of defeat like this just reminds him of all his previous agonising losses at your hands, his inferiority complex rising up to overwhelm him with the feeling that he’ll never be able to be strong or win anything at all.

(And, hey… what if he had actually managed to win? Tragically, the game does not let you see any of his reaction if you do happen to lose to him; it just rewinds time like it never happened. But there’s no way that Kieran beating you here would truly have helped or fixed anything about that massive inferiority complex of his. He’d ride the high for a bit, but then he’d go back to the same condescending façade he’d had before and gradually realise that… he doesn’t actually feel any better about himself beneath it like he was supposed to once this happened. Funnily enough, beating you in a Pokémon battle would not have magically turned him into you.)

Everything falls apart

But, of course, because the game refuses to let you not be the Perfect Protagonist (or, perhaps, because the narrative needs to go this way in order for him to actually get better in the long run), Kieran loses. The last time he lost a pivotal battle against you that he’d told himself everything depended on, back in Kitakami, he crumpled immediately in defeat – but this time, his reaction’s a lot more drawn out. Back then, the conviction that he could never ever beat you was right there at the surface to the point that he was basically expecting to lose despite his determination. But here, he’s spent so long insisting to himself over and over that he will win this time, he will, convincing himself that things just have to go that way… that it takes him a moment to even process the fact that they haven’t. He’s just shocked, lost, dumbfounded, not knowing how to react, because this wasn’t supposed to happen…!

But then the spectators around him mutter and begin to leave, apparently because he lost, because he’s no good after all and so there’s no point staying to watch him, and this seems to be what agonisingly drives home the reality to Kieran. All the respect and esteem he’d managed to grasp for himself – in this one awful moment it feels like all of it is crumbling away before his eyes. All of his effort to get here (so much effort) was worthless, all because he couldn’t beat you. He’s gone right back down to being nothing. I adore the blurry effects in the cutscene as Kieran sways and staggers and collapses, giving a visceral sense that the shock of this is hitting him so deep that it's rendered him physically light-headed and dizzy. Guh, this poor kid.

And then Drayton has to come along and rub it in. Kieran winces in agony as he gets smugly called “ex-Champion” – though he was never doing any of this for the Champion title itself, having it meant something and made him matter, and now that’s gone like it was never there at all. It’s bound to sting especially hard coming from Drayton, whom Kieran believed was plotting with you to take him down, take away everything he had, and now that’s exactly what’s happened, because he wasn’t strong enough to stand up for himself after all.

…The fact that Drayton felt the need to be a smug bitch about this first and foremost does not remotely help Kieran actually listen to and internalise the genuinely good advice Drayton gives just a few moments later. He really was doing this because he cares, and because Kieran ought to go back to having fun with things! But of course Kieran isn’t in any state to listen to that, not after all his paranoia about Drayton manipulating him, and then Drayton rubbing his loss in on top of that; he still has no idea that the guy genuinely wants to help him. (Unfortunately, while Drayton cares about the person Kieran should be, he has been deeply frustrated by the person Kieran is being, and that comes out in sarcasm and smuggery first, hence why this completely bombs.)

So instead of taking on board Drayton’s advice, which he probably wasn’t even listening to, Kieran just starts desperately, incoherently mumbling about how he’ll win next time. It’s the only thing he can cling to – the same thing he always has, to escape the all-consuming, unbearable thought of just being achingly inferior forever and ever with no way out. He still can’t see any other way out that isn’t beating you. (But… how is he ever going to win next time, when he’s already given it absolutely everything he had and still couldn’t manage it…?)

Seeing him being so clearly Not Okay, you approach him and (probably) attempt to say something to him, but it seems like even if you try, you barely get any words out before Kieran just shuts down even more. He reacts with slumping, and with an “Aw, man…” – the same words and body language he’d often have back in Teal Mask whenever something (usually his sister) would push back at him and make him feel small. Now that he can no longer cling to his façade that he totally is stronger than you and just hasn’t proven it yet, he’s reverted right back to the state of mind he was always in back then. And it’s you in particular that triggers his inferiority complex harder than anything else right now, even if you just silently approach him, or say a few words that certainly wouldn’t have been anything cruel.

It's a bit of a shame that the game doesn’t actually let us see what you try to say to him, assuming you do. But it most certainly couldn’t have been anything along the lines of “You put up a really tough fight!”, because that kind of thing – acknowledging Kieran’s strength, even though he lost – is exactly what he’d need to hear right now, and he’s clearly not hearing it. Whatever it was you did say, he probably barely even heard it beneath his crushing sense of inferiority at being near you, and you probably trailed off pretty quickly upon seeing his reaction.

(In fact, it might say a lot that your dialogue options here are so non-specific that they’re literally just “Say something/nothing”. This suggests that the player character has no idea what to say to Kieran at seeing him in this absolute state, and they can only choose to either accept that and remain silent, or to fumble for something to try and say anyway. I believe it’s pretty important to “your” role in Kieran’s arc that the player character is extremely socially awkward and just finds themselves utterly lost as to how to deal with him breaking down like this because of them. Someone with better social intelligence would be able to say the right thing here to help him at least begin to feel better! But that someone is emphatically not you, it seems. This apparent social obliviousness also tracks with the fact that you – the player character – agreed with Carmine’s very short-sighted decision to lie to Kieran back in Kitakami, thus unwittingly setting off this whole domino effect of his issues in the first place.)

Sudden legendary hunt

If Kieran had had longer to process his defeat, maybe he’d have realised that there really is no way he can “win next time” when he already gave it his absolute all this time, and he might have begun to approach the fact that there’s nothing he can do but let things go. However, while he’s still reeling, he almost immediately gets dragged into the meeting with Briar about her expedition to Area Zero.

Kieran looks like he’s barely even listening to the conversation at first, just staring miserably into space in front of him, no doubt stuck endlessly thinking how can I ever be stronger than you when everything I had still wasn’t enough??? But then Briar mentions that they’ll get the opportunity to find a legendary Pokémon on this quest – and whoops, now Kieran’s paying attention. Because here’s the answer to his impossible conundrum of how he can beat you next time.

Make no mistake: this is nothing like Ogerpon was to him. He’d been fixated on her and cared about her ever since he was little for deeply personal reasons based on him relating to her situation and projecting onto her. Her strength was part of it, but it wasn’t that he wanted to obtain that strength by catching her; he just admired her strength and wanted to be like her, and if he could, then maybe one day she’d acknowledge that by being his friend (and therefore also incidentally his Pokémon partner). But Terapagos is nothing to Kieran here other than a source of potential strength for him to acquire for himself by capturing it, a tool that will finally let him beat you.

Nonetheless, because this is another legendary Pokémon, Kieran can’t help but draw the surface comparison to Ogerpon anyway and remember the way she chose you over him. He’s probably already imagining that Terapagos might just do the same thing, because you’re so strong and special while he’s nothing – so he tells himself, fervently, that no, he won’t let that happen again, he won’t let this chance go.

He doesn’t ever say as much, but he’s bound to be already having doubts as to if he really could ever capture such an amazing Pokémon. Legendary Pokémon – or really, any Pokémon in general – are supposed to join trainers once they acknowledge their strength; that’s what battles to weaken and capture a wild Pokémon are all about. How is Kieran ever going to get Terapagos to do that for him when he’s so weak? But even so, even if it seems too good to be true, he has to cling to this possibility. It’s the only chance he has left to still just maybe be able to beat you, to continue running away from that gaping pit of inferiority inside him that he doesn’t know how to face.

(A minor nitpick I have with the game’s writing: it’d have been fun here if things had been subtler and Kieran hadn’t outright said that he wants to catch Terapagos at all. His intent would have been very clear regardless for anyone who could read between the lines – I realised what was up the moment he reacted to hearing about a legendary, because Oh No. But nonetheless, it seems like you the player character and also Carmine are both socially oblivious enough to fail to follow Kieran’s stated intent to catch Terapagos through to its obvious conclusion of “he’s still fixated on beating you”. I guess the two of you just assume, oh, hey, he’s found another legendary Pokémon to get excited about, that’s good, that means he must be getting over Ogerpon, right…? Ha. Ha ha ha. If only.)

Journey through Area Zero

As you make your way into and through the depths of Area Zero, Kieran seems to have largely lost hold of the condescendingly superior façade he’d been putting up all this time (after all, he doesn’t have the right to act that way towards you when he’s still weaker than you). This allows a few little hints of his true self to begin to rise to the surface and shine through again, at least a little bit.

He lets slip a “wowzers” on seeing the sheer alien beauty of the place for the first time, and later at the lab he’s so excited at the technology reminding him of a spy movie that he even forgets to mask his accent for a whole sentence. But both times, he’s quick to catch himself and brush it off and act aloof. That excitableness was part of who he used to be, that kid who was weak, and he's still convinced that he can’t afford to be that person any more. But, hey, getting these little reminders that he actually enjoys being his true self and has missed it, at least certain parts of it, has to help! Plus, Carmine seems happy at these moments of him being the little brother she knows and loves again; they have a bit of regular healthy sibling banter; she notices him being considerate about Briar reading someone’s private diary…

These are all good signs that Kieran’s starting to get back to normal, maybe just a little… but, not completely. The spark still isn’t there in his eyes, even when he’s smiling about the cool spy vibe of the lab. Despite the distractions, he’s largely very intent on just getting to the legendary Pokémon and nothing else. And perhaps most relevant of all, he barely says anything of substance to you, even if you try and talk to him.

He does have a notable reaction near the beginning when you mention that you came here last time with some friends of yours. Kieran had probably never quite considered the idea of you having other friends before – Ogerpon did not exactly prime him to imagine that about his idols, after all – but, now that he’s hearing it… of course you’ve got friends. Why wouldn’t you? You have everything, everything he’s always wanted so badly for himself but could never, ever have.

Then, of course, you’re the one who does all the hard work in the Underdepths to deal with the sparkling Pokémon that are blocking the way forwards. For the first one, Carmine almost asks Kieran to take care of it before changing her mind and asking you, which, ouch, that’s got to have stung. (I don’t think she did that to deliberately be unkind, though; it’s probably that she still feels a little weird and uncomfortable about her brother battling, because of the way he’s been, so she’d rather just watch you battle it instead.)

Because of all this, later on Kieran bitterly comments that he feels like everyone’s relying on you too much. Really, the only reason this is the case is because you just happen to be the one who has the lizardbike buddy that can navigate you to the Pokémon you need to defeat… but then, that in itself is another sign of how special and favoured by legendaries you are, isn’t it.

And actually, you’re not necessarily the only one who can reach the sparkling Pokémon! Kieran has a Dragonite, which must have been what he rode on for the flying Elite Four trial, so, in theory, he could go and deal with those sparkling Pokémon himself. But he doesn’t, because you’re already doing it anyway, and he doesn’t feel worthy of taking the spotlight from you. (Or, he could ask to join you on your lizard buddy as you head over there, but ha, even less chance he’s about to do that.)

One bit of optional dialogue Kieran has during this part is insisting that he could totally make quick work of those sparkling Pokémon if only they weren’t so far away. This is very true… but the fact that he never tries to do so despite actually having the ability to reach them himself tells us that his words are just desperate posturing that he doesn’t truly believe. He can’t even register the part where he genuinely has a really strong team of Pokémon that he worked hard to train, because he did all of that for the sole purpose of beating you, and since he couldn’t manage that, that means that none of it matters and he’s just useless.

Then there’s the moment near the end where Carmine tells Kieran it’s his turn to call out to you to let you know the path opened up, but Kieran miserably assumes you’d prefer to hear it from her instead. (As if who tells you that even makes any difference!) Carmine did this to try and begin bridging the gap between you, and she forces him to do it anyway despite his protest, but then when she asks if he’s got anything more to say to you, he just says no. He still doesn’t feel like he’s worthy of even interacting with you in any way at all, still convinced he must be nothing to you.

There’s a heartbreaking hypocrisy to this, too, since he knows you’re perfectly okay interacting with Carmine, and it’s not like she’s ever been able to beat you in battle either. But… but that’s different, right, because she’s already someone who’s strong and cool and worthy of your friendship. In Kieran’s head, he is the single person in the world who is so automatically, inherently worthless that he needs to prove his strength before he is allowed to Matter to you or to anybody.

Outburst at the crystal

As the group reaches the final chamber, Kieran rushes ahead into it and begins pulling at the crystal the moment he figures it even might be Terapagos, because he is so desperate not to lose this chance to anybody else (meaning you). In his urgency, completely oblivious to how messed-up this sentiment is, he blurts out that this’ll mean he can finally beat you, at which Carmine, who failed to realise this was still the reason he was doing all this until now, tries to call him out on it—

—And Kieran can’t stand that; he can’t let her try and take this away from him too on top of everything else, because this feels like the one remaining chance he’ll ever get to still have something and matter next to you. So in a kneejerk attempt to defend why he needs this, everything comes tumbling out. All of those feelings about how you have everything he’s ever wanted, and he has nothing, how he trained so so hard but even that ended up worthless because he still lost to you in the end, so this is all he has left.

(Well, it’s not quite everything that comes spilling out of Kieran here. He doesn’t say anything about why he feels he needs to beat you, and how that’ll totally magically solve everything for him – because there is no actual logic behind that part. There’s nothing he can say to make that make sense, and on some level he must be aware of that, must know it doesn’t, really. But if he admits that, admits that there really isn’t any way at all to escape from his crushing inferiority, then he’ll have nothing left whatsoever, which he cannot bear.)

Hearing Kieran’s outburst about how worthless he feels, Carmine tries to put in a good word for him about how he’s tried his best too – which is good! That’s exactly the kind of thing he needs to hear; she’s finally getting it! But unfortunately, because she herself is one of Kieran’s sore points, in regards to how you magically went and befriended her, he doesn’t properly register what she’s saying. Hearing her speak at all just triggers that thought and spurs him into venting about that, too.

His hang-ups with you befriending Carmine are interestingly reversed from how they appeared to be in Teal Mask. Back then, he seemed more low-key jealous that she might have been trying to take you, his first ever friend, away from him. But now (now that he’s convinced that you were never really his friend in the first place), it’s all twisted around into yet another sign of how perfect you are, because you managed to win over even someone as prickly and abrasive as his sister so remarkably fast. (Which, of course, has less to do with you than it has to do with the fact that Carmine’s actually a lot softer at heart than Kieran realises.)

He’s also maybe thinking about Drayton here, about the one time Drayton claimed in the cafeteria that you and he were “already tight”. That was a massive exaggeration, but no doubt Kieran filed that away as another person – someone else he finds infuriating and impossible to get along with – that you instantly won over with your magical friendship powers because of course you did. And on top of that, he’s bound to be thinking about his recent realisation that you came to Area Zero last time with your friends, plural, because of course you’d already got a bunch of friends, you’re perfect, you can do anything you want, you can be friends with anyone!

And yet – even as Kieran says this, it is objectively not true. Because you’re not friends with him right now! No amount of your amazing protagonist powers has been able to cut through his pile of issues and properly befriend him, even though you want to, because you are in fact not perfect in the slightest and have no idea what to say to get through to him and help him! But of course Kieran doesn’t realise this contradiction in what he’s saying – he's worthless, so the fact that you’re not friends with him is obviously just because you never wanted to be.

Speaking of you not being perfect, this moment here in which Kieran outright voices his jealousy and sense of inferiority compared to you is bound to be the first moment in which you, the player character, actually begin to realise that this has been his problem this whole time. (And, to be fair to your poor socially-oblivious avatar, it really wasn’t very apparent from their perspective until now! The only time Kieran ever gave any real explicit indication of his issues around you before was in Teal Mask, after the third battle when he lamented that “it’s because I’m weak” – but at the time, the player character wasn’t aware (like we the players were) that he knew they’d lied to him, so they couldn’t have known he was thinking about that. They probably just chalked his reaction down to him taking the lost battle particularly hard. The lie reveal was messy but seemed to work itself out; he was obviously upset when you caught Ogerpon but appeared to accept it well enough in the moment – then all of a sudden he showed up later being really determined to beat you for some reason??? Why.)

Another thing I love about this moment is the animation of Kieran desperately pulling at Terapagos’s crystal, the way he has to pause to catch his breath in between each huge tug, which really gets across that he is giving this every ounce of his strength. And that still isn’t enough, because it never is – he’s always too weak to be able to grasp even one thing for himself, but he is never ever going to stop trying no matter how impossible it seems.

(And I wonder if it’s going through his mind as he does this that surely this wouldn’t be nearly so hard for you. Like this is a sword-in-the-stone kind of thing, in which Terapagos would slide out smoothly like butter for someone who’s truly worthy of it, while a weakling like him is stuck hopelessly yanking on it with everything he has and just making himself look pathetic, because of course he doesn’t deserve this.)

Catching Terapagos

Except it turns out Kieran can manage to pull out the crystal after all, doing so with such force that he accidentally flings it halfway across the cavern to land between you and him. He rushes to pick it up before anyone else can, because this is his and he can’t let anyone take it from him, he can’t—

But then Terapagos wakes up, pops out of the crystal that serves as its shell… and it’s facing you. It doesn’t even see or acknowledge Kieran at all. It looks up at you adorably, like a baby imprinting on the first thing it sees, taking a few steps towards its new friend…?

(this has to be such an aching reminder of the way Ogerpon so quickly came to adore you and didn’t care about him, all compressed into one single agonising moment, ouch)

…This was not Terapagos choosing you over Kieran in any meaningful way. Kieran was behind it, such that it literally couldn’t see him and didn’t even know he existed. All it was doing was latching onto the first person it saw, which was you, because – completely by chance – it happened to wake up facing you and not him. If it’d woken up facing Kieran, it’d have seen and approached him in exactly the same way. Terapagos’s dormant crystal form is symmetrical; Kieran had no way to know which end was the head and which was the tail until it popped out.

This was, almost literally, a fucking coin flip. Only the coin was a magical crystal turtle and the winner was whoever “heads” landed facing towards.

(But then, luck has always chosen you over Kieran, too, hasn’t it?)

And so, seeing this happen to him yet again, seeing his one last chance of maybe finally having something and mattering about to be casually snatched away by you, like always, because the universe always gives you everything he wants… Kieran makes an awful, desperate split-second decision and throws the Master Ball. Because of course he does. It’s not right; it’s not fair on Terapagos – but it is so achingly understandable why Kieran would be driven to do this in this moment. The whole thing was so cruelly, rudely unfortunate. This poor kid just wants so badly to have something, to have anything at all where he’s not immediately overshadowed and upstaged by you.

(Also, shout-outs to the narrative cleverness of quietly establishing that BB Champions get given Master Balls, by the game giving you one when you beat Kieran, such that you think nothing of it at the time but can realise right away in this moment where Kieran got his from.)

Still, it’s notable how quickly Kieran was able to pull out the Master Ball, which suggests he’d had it ready near the top of his bag. It must have crossed his mind on the way here that surely, you’re going to somehow magically sway Terapagos to join you – or that it’ll just shun him, because earning a legendary’s respect involves proving one’s strength, and he’s still so weak – such that he felt he might need a way to guarantee it would become his, no matter what.

But even then, I do want to believe that Kieran wouldn’t necessarily have used the Master Ball if he hadn’t felt like he had no other option, and that he wanted to at least try to get Terapagos to join him willingly, like trainers are supposed to do. If he’d won the turtle-coin flip and it had woken up facing him, maybe he’d have been able to do so! But of course he didn’t get to have that.

(It’s kind of a shame that the characters never discuss the dodginess of catching a Pokémon from behind in a Master Ball, how that gave poor Terapagos no choice in the matter like Pokémon are supposed to have when they join a trainer. But then, pointing out that Master Balls are inherently ethically dubious gets awkward considering that the player can freely use them on anything they like, so the game was probably never going to go there. You are too silent-protagonist and Briar is too irresponsible-adult to comment on it, but maybe Carmine could at least have had a brief line questioning this? But, well, at least she does express apprehension about going in to battle with a legendary Pokémon they know almost nothing about, which is also a very valid concern, considering what ends up happening.)

Trying to beat you with Terapagos

So of course, the very next thing Kieran does is challenge you to battle him with Terapagos, so that he can finally beat you. Only… he doesn’t show anywhere near as much of that furious, fervent determination that he had for the Champion match. All that fire of his got snuffed out the moment he lost back then, and it never really came back. This isn’t the battle he’s been psyching himself up for and dedicating everything towards for months; it’s nothing but a desperate grasp at not falling apart completely. He’s kind of just… going through the motions, trying to beat you simply because it’s what he’s been clinging to all this time, and he still doesn’t know what else to do with himself if not this.

And more than anything, Kieran has to know deep down that he doesn’t truly deserve this, not after the way in which he caught Terapagos. After all, trainers are supposed to earn having strong Pokémon in their team, either by training them up from a low level themselves, or by proving their strength to a high-level Pokémon by weakening and catching it in battle. (This is why high-levelled traded Pokémon will disobey you if you don’t have enough badges – you haven’t given them a reason to respect you!) Catching a legendary from behind with a Master Ball is none of those things. Kieran has to be perfectly aware that he has not earned Terapagos’s strength in any way (just like he knew all along he’d never really be able to).

A very revealing line on this matter is that if you say you’re not ready to battle him yet, Kieran tells you, “You’d better not run away from this”. He never once implied you might run away from the Champion battle – that’d be like admitting you couldn’t win, and you’d never do that. But here, it's different, because Terapagos isn’t his strength, so even if he could beat you with it, it wouldn’t really prove anything about him. You’d be well within your rights to just refuse to indulge Kieran in this at all, and on some level, he knows that.

(…With all that said, Terapagos does obey his commands in the battle anyway. It’s sadly difficult to attribute any definitive emotions to it because it’s pretty unexpressive, but perhaps we can imagine that Terapagos is kind of just lost and confused, going along with the orders of the one who threw its ball because it’s not really sure what’s happening and battling is kind of instinctual for all Pokémon. Maybe it’s even more instinctual for Terapagos, thanks to its ability that automatically shifts it into a battle form when there’s an opponent in front of it. It doesn’t really help matters that you just sent something out to battle it without questioning things, either.)

If you manage to hit Terapagos super-effectively during the battle, Kieran scoffs that “it has a weakness? I thought this was the hidden treasure of Area Zero?!” What do you mean his super-special legendary that would let him finally definitely win this time isn’t invincible, that it’s still functionally just a regular Pokémon and it’s still possible – and not even that hard, really – for you to beat him even now.

And if you land a critical hit, oh boy: “How can you get critical hits, even at a time like this… What are you, the hero of this story?” Kieran is clearly raw with bitterness about the turtle-coin flip, about luck choosing you because you’re just so heroic, even when this was finally supposed to be his moment really seriously for real this time. It’s reminiscent of another time he compared you to a hero when you critted him, in his fourth Teal Mask battle – but back then, he said you were like the hero in “a story”, whereas here, you’re the hero of “this story”. Kieran’s realising on some level that if this were a story, you would be the hero of it, you’d deserve to win, and… wouldn’t he be the villain? Because heroes certainly do not go around throwing Master Balls at legendaries from behind.

(For the record, though? Kieran is not a villain. Stop calling him a villain, people. Not a single thing he does is outright villainous; catching Terapagos in this way is wrong, yes, but it’s an act of desperation for which his entire end goal is literally just to win a dang Pokémon battle against you. He’s barely even that much of an antagonist, if we get into that – this isn’t really a you-versus-him conflict so much as a him-versus-himself conflict that you happen to be inextricably wrapped up in.)

Kieran isn’t even that crushed when he loses this battle, just… lost and confused. He insists that “I thought if I had Terapagos, it would make me stronger,” as if catching it in a Master Ball would change anything about his strength – but really, he has to have known that wouldn’t truly be the case. And when Briar remarks that Terapagos isn’t as strong as it should be, Kieran just miserably assumes, “so it isn’t the hidden treasure?” Like, of course this was too good to be true, of course whatever Pokémon he actually managed to get his hands on was just some dud and not the real deal, because he’s never deserved to have anything worthwhile. His expression’s upset, and pleading, as he says this was meant to let him beat you, still like that’d somehow fix everything, but his desperation’s become something pitiful compared to how furious it was before. He just doesn’t know what else to do, doesn’t know how else to cope with his crushing sense of inferiority if he can’t hold onto this.

Terapagos goes berserk

The only reason Kieran even Terastallises Terapagos is pretty much because Briar tells him to, and he’s at a loss for what else to do. It’s very possible that if an actual responsible adult had been here to talk him down – or, heck, even just let Carmine talk to him, since she was trying to do so again – then he’d have finally been in a state to listen and none of the ensuing disaster would have needed to happen. But Briar’s gotta see her giant sparkle turtle, because it turns out that basically her entire character exists to facilitate Kieran’s character arc having the most dramatic climax possible, and I for one am 1000% okay with that.

Kieran looks apprehensive and afraid even as he’s just beginning to Terastallise it (no emotionless mask to cover the wince this time), perhaps because he can feel that the power from his Tera Orb is way more than it usually is and isn’t sure this is a good idea. But what else can he do? He has nothing else left – so he throws the orb anyway.

Again, Terapagos is frustratingly unexpressive, such that it’s difficult to get a sense of whether it attacking Kieran once it Terastallises is an instinctive, unconscious defence mechanism, or something more deliberate. But it’s certainly more fun to imagine it’s deliberate – that this is Terapagos lashing out from anger and fear now that it’s been given a terrifying amount of power it can’t fully handle and begins to realise, wait, no, it didn’t want this. That makes this problem distinctly more Kieran’s fault, which is a good thing for his arc. (If Terapagos’s rampage wasn’t based in its emotions in any way, then this kind of wouldn’t be Kieran’s fault at all, not really! It was significantly more on Briar that he Terastallised it, after all. Kieran’s real mistake was catching it without its consent – so it’s more narratively satisfying for this to be, in part, him facing the consequences for that.)

Either way, the important part is that Kieran is bound to feel like this is Terapagos lashing out at him because he shouldn’t have caught it. He always knew deep down that that was wrong, and now here’s the proof, because of course a strong and special legendary like that would never truly acknowledge him. And now it’s so mad at him for trying to act otherwise that it tries to kill him. (This poor kid is already clearly very sensitive to rejection in general, but, ouch, that has to have been like a stab in the gut.) This is all his fault for daring to think he deserved to have any kind of strength at all.

But then you save his life, by sending out your lizardbike friend to shield him! Which on the one hand just makes you even more of a perfect hero – but this time, your heroism is a good thing for Kieran. And, more than that… you wanted to save him. You saw him as someone worth protecting? You, actually, care about him??? (Kieran has been convinced that he’s nothing to you pretty much ever since you lied to him back in Teal Mask, but, oh, hey, maybe not…?)

Not that he has much time to process that in the heat of the moment; he’s too busy freaking out over everything such that Carmine has to be the one to tell him he should recall Terapagos. Maybe on some level he just feels like Terapagos would never listen to him if he tried, because it literally just attempted to kill him – and indeed, it fights back and breaks the Master Ball rather than go back to being his Pokémon (there’s another painful sting of rejection). Of course Kieran should never have caught it or called himself its trainer. He reflexively asks “why?” it wouldn’t come back, but he knows why. It’s because he’s worthless and deserves nothing, and he should never have tried to pretend otherwise.

Facing the gaping pit

At the start of the final battle, Kieran’s just frozen in terror at what he’s accidentally unleashed, not to mention the recent shock of nearly being killed and the knowledge that this is all his fault. (Even though, it isn’t all his fault! Briar deserves at least half the blame for this! But that doesn’t remotely occur to Kieran in the moment, because he is intrinsically the most worthless person ever, so of course all the blame should be on him.) But after a little while, the immediate terror fades, and Kieran’s left with nothing but the overwhelming feeling that he’s useless, that he can’t help anyone. It’s that vast aching pit of inferiority that’s always been there inside him, finally right at the surface.

There’s nothing he can do to run away from it any more. Ogerpon didn’t want him and chose you instead. All of his efforts to make himself stronger meant nothing in the end because he still lost to you. He never should have tried to catch Terapagos, because it never wanted him either and all he’s done is put himself and everyone else in danger. There’s just no way out.

Which means that, for the first time ever, Kieran has no choice but to finally, actually face up to and confront his terrifyingly huge inferiority complex, and begin to fight against it in a genuinely healthy way.

Maybe he wouldn’t have even tried at all if it hadn’t been for the fact that he needed to help with this battle! Shout-outs to the narrative for creating a situation in which Kieran has to help after Carmine’s one remaining Pokémon goes down, because he might otherwise never have done so.

(I love that one of the things the battle camera can do while you’re idling here is cut to Kieran and linger a moment with him, with the look of either frozen terror or miserable inferiority on his face. Even though he’s technically just a background character right now for the mechanical purposes of the battle, this moment is about him, and the devs knew it.)

And of course it takes Kieran a really long time, most of the battle, to actually find the courage to fight back! His inferiority complex is so massive, so all-encompassing, the root cause of all of the desperate, self-destructive, obsessive things he’s done to try and escape it, that of course it’s so, so terrifyingly difficult for him to actually face up to it and find the strength to try and believe that… maybe it’s just wrong.

Crucially, the single thing that does the most to trigger Kieran’s shift into courage is you – you, calling out to him, asking for his help. Hearing that you actually value his strength and need his help is exactly the kind of acknowledgement that Kieran has always desperately craved from you all along. It’s just what he needs to help him believe that, just maybe, he might actually be kinda strong and worth something after all.

But even then! Even with that, his inferiority complex does not magically vanish, because of course it doesn’t work that way! All your words do is give Kieran the courage to fight it, by holding onto the fact that you believe in him and he’s not alone. His animations here are so good; there’s tears in his eyes even as he manages to snap himself into determination, because he is still so scared and just finally being really, really brave about it!

One really lovely subtlety is that the highlight in his eyes, that little visual detail that makes a character really look alive, which was completely not there in Kieran for the entirety of Indigo Disk up until now, finally comes back in the exact moment when he finds the courage to fight. And it's neat how the game manages to re-use the same screaming animation Kieran had for the beginning of the Champion fight, with the only minor differences being the tears and that highlight in his eyes, but in this new context it communicates an entirely different kind of emotion. It’s like he’s fervently psyching himself up into believing that he is capable of doing this.

And hey, Kieran’s contribution to the battle really is pretty helpful! It’s a genuinely tough fight to the point that, no matter your level, there’s a good chance you were struggling on your own for a while, so you’re probably glad he’s here to help even just in a mechanical sense. His Hydrapple’s Supersweet Syrup ability can be useful to you as well as him, and then if it goes down, he switches to Dragonite and – because of the evasiveness drop – begins spamming near-accurate Thunders on a Terapagos who is Water-type for this final phase. Look at him go! (And another thing Hydrapple can do to support you is use Dragon Cheer, which delights me, because it’s Kieran deciding that actually he’s okay with you getting all the critical hits after all. Aww.)

Once Terapagos is defeated, if you try to not catch it, Kieran will tell you that you need to do it, that “it has to be you, not me!” It’s so lovely that there’s not a hint of bitterness to him here as he says this, just perfectly comfortably accepting it, because he never really wanted Terapagos anyway and he knows it’ll be happier with you, and that’s all that matters. Even if you don’t get that line, his encouragement of you as you go for a Pokéball is more than enough to communicate the fact that he’s okay with you doing this. And Kieran’s smiling again, cheering you on with that same animation of his from back in Teal Mask when he was super excited to watch you battle his sister! This is the excitable, battle-loving kid he always was and finally is once more! His smile is even more adorable now without his hair obscuring half of it, too.

Letting it go

In the end, Kieran’s finally able to let things go thanks to multiple factors brought about by what happened in Area Zero. There’s the part where he spent the adventure being just a little bit closer to his normal self, letting him realise that he misses being like that and that maybe there was nothing inherently bad or weak about those parts of him at all. There’s the way that Terapagos going berserk served as a very stark representation of how his obsession with strength only ends up hurting himself and everyone around him, which must have helped him see that his behaviour leading up to this was doing the same kind of thing and he can’t go back to that.

And, perhaps most importantly, you acknowledged his strength by calling out for him to help you against Terapagos, which is what Kieran really needed the most all along. By joining you in the battle, he’s finally begun to face his inferiority complex, to shoot down the conviction in his mind that he’s useless and weak and can’t do anything, and prove to himself that he’s capable of confronting scary things after all, even including his own mistakes.

I do have another small writing nitpick about his dialogue in the post-battle scene, in that I don’t quite agree with his progression from “I just don’t have it in me to be like you” straight to “finally I can let it go”. Kieran was always aware of the former, deep down, but knowing that never did anything but make him latch desperately onto trying to prove that wrong no matter how impossible it felt. Meanwhile, the latter implies that he’s always consciously wanted to let it go and just somehow couldn’t despite that, which isn’t quite it either.

Instead, I think it’d work if he first went from how he can’t ever be like you into “I guess I have to just let it go”, and then from there into “Yeah… finally I can let it go”. Feeling like he simply has no choice but to let go at first, and only from there would he reflect and realise that actually, he can now, and maybe a part of him had always kind of wanted to after all.

Delightfully, as Kieran begrudgingly accepts that he can’t ever be like you, you finally get a dialogue option that lets you tell him that he’s strong and cool and worth something as he is!!! It seems like it really did take you hearing his inferiority complex directly from him in order for you to realise that this was something he needed to hear. He reflexively tries to downplay your compliment, like he didn’t really do anything impressive at all just now, because he still instinctively feels that way about himself – again, his inferiority complex has not just magically vanished, because it doesn’t work like that! – but hearing otherwise from you of all people has to be an immense help for him in fighting against it.

And it’s this that sets Kieran off crying, from that overwhelmingly positive emotion that you think he’s really cool, aww. This seems to break something of an emotional dam for him, letting him just have a good long cry about all of it, which, yes, he has so many emotions he’s needed to let out for so long now and it is good and healthy that he’s finally able to do so! (I wish this part was better animated, alas – but believe me, I am imagining him having such a big long cathartic cry even if the game isn’t managing to adequately show it.)

Then there’s the final scene! It’s so brave of Kieran to have resolved to apologise and make amends for everything he did wrong. That is scary as hell and comes with a huge risk of massive painful criticism and rejection, but he’s doing it anyway because he wants to do the right thing. He is such a good kid at heart despite his massive issues having driven him into several big mistakes.

Now that Kieran’s returned to something resembling his old self, his anxious body language from before is back – he’s barely making eye contact with you as he speaks, his head low, instinctively trying to hide his face behind the one bit of hair he still has hanging down. But nonetheless, you can tell that he’s making an effort to fight that and push himself to be just a little bit more assertive than he was able to be before all this. As he asks if you two can be friends again, he’s grimacing, already braced for rejection, hesitating then blurting out all of it in one big go before he changes his mind – there’s still a very significant part of him convinced that you’d just never want that and he doesn’t even have the right to ask. But at least he’s now able to realise that said part is probably wrong and find the courage to ask anyway! Because he wants this, and he deserves to at least try and grasp good things for himself!

And of course you still want to be his friend, because you basically always were anyway from your perspective, and Kieran is so adorably happy to have this second chance, and I am so delighted that the two of you are able to be friends again like you always should have been all along, aaaa. I could not be more proud of my boy.

(Well, I could go into a lot more detail about just how proud of and happy I am for Kieran thanks to all of his scenes in the epilogue and postgame. But that’s enough of its own separate Thing that it ought to get its own post! So hold on for that; I’m not quite done having So Many Feelings about this boy just yet. Aaand here it is!)

#pokemon #pokemon sv #pokemon scarlet and violet #the indigo disk #the hidden treasure of area zero #pokemon kieran #kieran pokemon #trainer kieran #rival kieran #champion kieran #character analysis #ramble #my buttons #friends

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undercoveravenger · 1 year ago

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Motivators

Pairing: Isaac Lahey x Scientist!Male!Reader

Requested: Yes

Request: “okay for the spooky request could you write Isaac lahey x scientist reader who doesn’t believe in the supernatural but they are hunting a ghost and reader and Isaac make a bet where if they do find the ghost reader owes Isaac a kiss or something”

A/N: This is the third fic in the 2023 Spooky Month event! The next post will release on Tuesday, October 24th. Hope you enjoy!

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While your best friend Scott McCall and his pack were no strangers to your lab, you still found yourself a bit on edge with Scott’s beta, Isaac. You had known of him before he was turned, and he had seemed nice enough the few times you had interacted with him, but there had always seemed to be something off, even after Scott had told you the truth about his friends. You weren’t sure exactly why Isaac made you so uneasy, but the weight of his eyes, whether glowing their infamous werewolf gold or his pretty every-day blue, was ever present and unreadable.

Even now, with the rest of the pack off investigating the most recent victim of a vengeful spirit, Isaac lingered, perched on one of the spare lab tables pushed against the wall and watching you intently.

“You didn’t have to wait here,” you say, ardently refusing to look at him, studying the strange glowing sample they’d brought you through the viewing lens of your microscope. “You heard Scott- He thinks he’s got a lead. You could’ve gone with him to check it out.”

A soft huff escapes Isaac and you can hear him shift behind you, moving from his seat on the opposite table to come lean against the one you’re working at. “No,” he says quietly, “I needed to be here.” He’s silent for a minute and you almost think to press him further when he continues, “I know you don’t need me to be here, but I need to be.” He clears his throat awkwardly when you look up at him, but he presses on, in spite of the thick blush clouding his cheeks. “I worry about you a lot when I’m not around you, y’know? Not just that you’re just a human, but that you’re you.”

You studied Isaac for a long moment, a sort of self-satisfied amusement creeping through you as he fidgets under your gaze, clearly having said more than he meant to and exposing his emotions in the process.

“You really think that you’re going to catch this ghost?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest as you watched him.

He nodded, grinning shyly, “Yeah. With you and Scott working together to find it? No way we don’t.”

Whenever you’d caught Isaac looking at you in the past, the look in his eyes was always intense, but he was unreadable in the same way that the old Latin tombs that Allison had swiped from her family’s archives for you had been. But in the same way you had learned to decipher those ancient books, you were starting to see the meaning behind those lingering stares and Isaac’s looming presence. He’d never seemed malicious to you, not even before he’d joined Scott’s pack, but now you could see that determined distance for what it was.

You rolled your eyes and turned back to your sample, but couldn’t stop the edge of your lips from quirking up as you spoke. “You find it and I owe you a kiss.”

While you were no longer looking at him, you could pick out the exact moment Isaac realized what you’d said since you could hear his sneakers squeak against the floor as he struggled to catch himself from falling. “I- I, uh, I-” he stammered and you could practically hear how flustered he was. “I’m- I’m gonna go call Scott and see if his lead panned out. Y’know, we uh, we really need to get rid of this ghost thing before it hurts someone else. We should- We should really do everything we can to catch it as soon as possible, right?”

You couldn’t help but laugh as he hurried out of the room, and you laughed even harder when you were able to pick up the excited whoops echoing in from outside of your lab from Isaac and Scott over the phone line.

#isaac lahey x male reader #isaac lahey x male!reader #male reader x isaac lahey #male!reader x isaac lahey #male reader x teen wolf #male!reader x teen wolf #teen wolf x male reader #teen wolf x male!reader #teen wolf x reader #reader x teen wolf #teen wolf reader insert #male reader insert #male!reader #x male!reader #x reader #x male reader #male!reader insert #male reader

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end-otw-racism · 2 years ago

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End OTW Racism Link Round-Up: Week 1!

We are now in week two of our action demanding that OTW live up to its commitments to address racist harassment & abuse, which ends May 31st! There was a lot of great discussion during the first week, so we wanted to post a round-up of some of the longer-form discussion/analysis that people have been sharing (we're going with posts on Tumblr, Dreamwidth, and other sites, as well as Twitter threads that are longer than three tweets). These are posts that we think would be helpful to consider as fandom engages in the necessary conversations about these issues.

If we've missed something you've written, we'll be doing another round-up of week two, so it's not too late! You can either submit it on tumblr, tweet at us, or email us at endotwracism [at] gmail [dot] com. We do reserve the right to only share posts that are in line with the intent of the campaign and that we believe are adding to the conversation.

Tumblr

beatrice-otter: Why AO3 needs to be accountable for reducing fandom racism in its internal culture and the archive [link]

pretty-weird-ideas: End OTW Racism and the “Fed” Accusations [link]

aretethegreattelleroftales: You don’t understand what EndOTWRacism is asking for here, and because you clearly do not understand it, you should have known better than to speak on it. [link]

vex-verlain: In response to the reactions I’ve seen to #EndOTWRacism [link]

unrealromance: I don’t really understand how people don’t know the difference between ‘whoops I’ve fallen into a racist trope’ and 'I am literally writing hate speech that is unveiled, mask off’. [link]

pretty-weird-ideas: Codification of a Living Document as a solution to Harassment on OTW [link]

indifferentvincent: RE: End OTW Racism Derailment [link]

elumish: In light of some of the backlash to the End OTW Racism protest, and particularly the concern that an anti-harassment policy would lead to abuse of reporting mechanisms or censorship of unpopular authors/ships… [link]

seepunkrun: How to Find and Attend OTW Board Meetings [link]

indifferentvincent: The people who use the excuse of saying ao3 is an ‘archive’ and so 'must preserve’ the most vile, intentionally racist fics just sound like the most privileged motherfuckers on the planet to me. [link]

spacebeyonce & pretty-weird-ideas: wow this is such a normal and rational thing to say about having a diversity consultant to help ao3 fix their bullshit. [link]

indifferentvincent: I have to assume this is in regards to my promotion of the end-otw-racism call to action, because I don’t know what else it could be referencing. [link]

princeescaluswords: Writing Doesn’t Happen in a Void [link]

mousieta: There is a place, a magic place, a giant, ever growing park filled with sandboxes of every color and shape imaginable. [link]

Twitter

spacebeyonceart: alright so I want to talk about this post I made two years ago now that the #EndOTWRacism ball is finally rolling. [link]

generalfrings: This shit makes me so goddamn angry, yall. [link]

eruthosish: One of the calls of #EndOTWRacism is to improve the AO3's Terms of Service and how the AO3 deals with fanworks that are part of an offsite harassment campaign, so I wanted to share a story about the only time I have ever reported offsite harassment and had Abuse agree with me. [link]

buttonthemdown: They've proven they can move quickly *when they want to*, but the fact the OTW hasn't made an official statement acknowledging their lack of action and pledging to do better sends a signal they don't care about their POC fans. [link]

Clonehub7567 Seeing the reactionary dismissals of #EndOTWRacism from white fans who pretend to care about racism is reminding me of the backlash i/we got for #UnwhitewashTBB. [link]

hydrochaeris3: ppl who are worried that not participating in the call to action will get them labeled racist..... first of all once again yall are showing that you care more about what others might label you than putting forth tangible effort into caring for a community [link]

m_sketchyart: If you think that #EndOTWRacism is censoring your escapism, here’s a thought to chew on: why is being anti-racist a threat to your escapism? Is true escapism not also leaving racism, antiBlackness, fatphobia, abeism, misogyny, etc out of your escapism? /rh [link]

lunedraws: Have you wanted to walk the walk and not just talk the talk, re: racism, in one or more of your fandom spaces? This is a concise and timely line of actions we can take. [link]

aliasmarionette: One thing I see a lot in #EndOTWRacism comments which are in favour of the status quo is assumptions about who we mean by fandom, and about the user base of the Archive. [link]

SapphicScholar: New profile photo while participating in the important fan-led campaign to demand that OTW make good on the promises it has already made to address issues it has already acknowledged as problems in the archive—that is, instances of extreme racist harassment and abuse [link]

Fansplaining: Since the endotwracism campaign has begun, we wanted to highlight the timeline they've put together about the OTW's communications re: hiring a diversity consultant since their initial statement of commitment in the summer of 2020. [link]

gwenpendrcgon: ive seen so much backlash over #EndOTWRacism which shouldnt surprise me (also majority of this comes from tumblr is also to be expected) but most if not all backlash received by this event is done is such bad faith and complete wilful ignorance [link]

fiercynonym: so op of the #EndOTWRacism post on reddit dm-ed me and the situation is even more fucked up than i originally knew??? [link]

kitschlet: seeing a lot of people confused about what the OTW can do to address racism [link]

generalfrings: poor AO3 maintaining a 'absurdly heavy site'. all that text! [link]

RukminiPande: Fan scholars should be paying attn to #EndOTWracism. [link]

Saathi1013: The thing to notice about all the assertions that people know who's behind EOTWR is like... Okay, there are a few things, actually [link]

buttonthemdown: If you think that victims of racism need to "develop a thicker skin" you're a fucking racist [link]

mousieta: if i could have people understand one thing abt #endotwracism right now is that This issue matters not because racism makes you feel bad, or uncomfy, or squicky but because racism is actively harming Real Living Breathing Fans right now. [link]

fiercynonym: okay so…you know how OTW has been saying, when asked at meetings, that they have a budget surplus of about USD $1 million? well…manogirl & i did some digging, and it might actually be more than TWO AND A HALF MILLION USD. [link]

runpunkrun: Speaking of OTW Board meetings, if you're interested in attending, here's what you need to know [link]

Dreamwidth

satsuma: A Chronic Habit of Avoiding Responsibility? #EndOTWRacism [link]

bcgphoenix: I have a lot of feelings about OTW and End OTW Racism as a book conservator/general preservation person, most of which verge into tl;dr territory. [link]

killabeez: Looking at past archive policies [link]

nyctanthes: End OTW Racism (Fannish Fifty #47) [link]

chestnut_pod: Be more democratic, be more autocratic, OTW [link]

Other sites

Lady’s Weblog: End Racism in the OTW [link]

The Rec Center: #384 Final Thoughts [link]

Stitch’s Media Mix: I’m Supporting #EndOTWRacism [link]

#end otw racism #racism in fandom #otw #ao3 #organization for transformative works #archive of our own #fandom racism #link round-up

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onnoffwrites · 7 months ago

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This was a short convo in server (but also included me asking my friend Es bc they've been in the fandom for longer and have access to official Thai translation). BUT, here's another tale of mistranslations of hakuba!

In the chapter where saguru used his family's lab, depending on when u joined the fandom and read the magic kaito manga, u might remember him as saying "my uncle's laboratory" OR "my grandfather's laboratory". Now, why would this be the case?

Let's clear things up properly first. The original wording of this line was "uncle's laboratory" specifically the kanji used is one used for "younger brother of father" (well according to my friend who has the Thai books but also the jp books bc she knows the mistranslation and she reads jp).

So where did the "grandfather" bit come from? As you may suspect from me mentioning it twice now, the official Thai translation.

Now some of you might go "hold up, but I read the eng fan translation, what does this have to do with Thai?" You see, my guys, my dudes, my girly pops, from the server convo I gained insights into the past of mk fandom, and learnt, that the OG eng fan translator of mk was non other than a Thai fan herself, Jane. This honestly explains so much. Bc before the great crash and burn and rebirth of mangadex, there was like 3? 2? Diff translations for mk. And one of them is like has Thai sfx texts all over instead of the usual jp sfx or even eng sfx. SO! Depending on when you get into mk, u might have been reading Janes translations, which was based off of the official Thai translation. WHICH, mistakenly translated "uncle" to "grandfather". Bc apparently those two kanji looks very similar. Whoops

That is all. I just found fandom history interesting, especially when it's the fandom I'm in and I wasn't around for any of this stuff. And now a lot of the things that confused me makes sense. (Shout out to icka for bringing this up that one time. I just realized I didn't post this finding, which would fit right along with that other mistranslation post I made lmao.)

#hakuba saguru #magic kaito #dcmk #ramblings #rambles #rambling rambling rambling #yapping about translations again #and learning fandom history

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tj-crochets · 7 months ago

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I have a quilting question! That being, I’ve never quilted before but I have a gazillion squares of fabric (thrift store whoops, didn’t realize it was cut) and I need a new quilt. If I’m trying to do a basic “I want a warm blanket” quilt, would I just… sew a checkerboard of the squares together, then get batting and idk, a piece of matching size fabric for the back? I have a sewing machine but nothing specifically quilting I don’t think.

Hi! You've got the basics down, that pretty much is the bare bones of quilting and if you want to start with just that you absolutely can. There are some steps that can make the finished product a little less lumpy and/or a little more durable (ironing, basting, stuff like that) but off the top of my head I don't have specific resources to point you toward? Let me see if any of the quilt youtubers I watch have some videos on it okay this quilter doesn't seem to have a "never made any sort of quilt before" tutorial but once you've made one quilt I recommend Just Get It Done Quilts (or if you want to be particularly ambitious about your skills, before your first quilt? I found a lot of technique advice only made sense to me after I'd made my first quilt, but you might learn differently than I do). She has a lot of pattern videos and a lot of technique videos. This seems like a decent very detailed step-by-step guide to making a quilt from start to finish (I just glanced at it), but I will tell you one thing that most of the guides you will read will disagree with: If you are making a simple patchwork for your first quilt (aka a checkerboard of squares) and you aren't super picky about the exact finished size, you do not need to worry about the 1/4" seam allowance. You can ignore all of that and come back to figuring out how to do it later. For simple patchworks, it's just important that your seam allowance is consistent. So, if you're not super familiar with sewing but are using a machine, just line up the edges of the fabric with the edge of the foot on your sewing machine, and whatever that is will be fine (as long as the seam allowance is large enough to not unravel. It'd work for all the sewing machine feet I have, but I have not seen all the options) also tagging in @creations-by-chaosfay, who has been quilting a lot longer than I have. Do you have a good step-by-step starting guide to making your first quilt?

#ask away!#writerproblem193 #once you make your first quilt it makes a lot more sense #but it's difficult (for me at least) to find online resources for people who have never made quilts #all the resources I've found assume a base level of knowledge most people don't have before making their first quilt #(about like the names of parts of the quilt and the names of steps of quilt making. things like that)

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hoardlikegoldenirises · 10 months ago

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This is Peter's "move your arm before I kill you" face 😄 aka his "I only agreed to stand here to make my aunt happy and would rather be anywhere else" face.

EDIT: decided to change the eyeshine color lol

closeups and a bonus doodle below:

say cheeeeese!!! (left to right: flash, janine, aracely)

I realized while drawing this that I accidentally put the boys in left-to-right order from least- to most-fucked up face 😂 Ben and his perfect nose 🙄🤣 IDK what he's saying but probably something engineered specifically to make Peter mad.

He's smiling. 🙂💢 See? Busted nose. Turns out I also put them in order of "least to most traumatized," now that I think about it... Peter is a little less uptight by 2016 but... only a little. He might even not be wearing the costume under his clothes.

I know you're probably thinking "how the fuck is Ben less traumatized than Peter?" but in this case it's true. Ben is the most well-adjusted of them all. Comparatively.

Kaine is definitely wearing his costume under his clothes. Head to toe coverage, no skin except face and hands basically ever. When I sat down to sketch this pic this morning I realized that he probably doesn't like having his picture taken, because he has very bad self-esteem (understatement) and lots of scars, but probably also for Warren reasons, as essentially an ex-lab specimen. So he's hiding.

His hair would be in the process of growing back out from a buzzcut, if it's November 2016... so a bit longer than his shoulders, most likely.

If it wasn't like, May's idea to take the pic and Janine w/ the camera Kaine would not be tolerating this. He'd either leave or break the camera LOL but... if May wants a pic... he can at least pretend to be in it.

Miss Maybelle... The only one in the pic who doesn't have anything weird going on (ah, her strange nephews and their strange eyes). She has an O2 tank though. Her lungs are not very strong after 2012 because ummmm... Kaine stabbed her in the chest. (He apologized, it's fine 😓😅)

Ben's tan lines 😂 peter has 'em too but Peter is all covered up obv. Peter's neck tan line is actually way higher up though, because his costume has a higher neckline so he has to wear higher collars/scarves/whatever even if he rolls the neck down. But (not pictured) Peter's arms are more tan than Ben's because Ben's Scarlet sleeves are longer than Peter's Spidey sleeves. Obv Ben isn't wearing (the top of) his costume in this pic though. and they can both roll the sleeves up anyway.

That's the watch Peter got May for her birthday in 2007 btw. Actually the color is wrong because I didn't bother to check my own #lore but also because I almost forgot to color it at all (lol whoops) so I was just like. It's purple, I remember that much. But the strap is supposed to be "pale violet linen."

I also almost forgot to draw Peter's wedding band entirely 😂 Luckily I remembered! lol

Kaine is wearing a kilt, by the way (over jeans or leggings or something probably... well, maybe not leggings if his costume is underneath...) My goal is for him to find a different way of expressing his masculinity. related to why i am sticking to pink for his theme color (for costume etc.) and letting him grow his hair back out. I think he probably has some genders going on but not in the way that Flash has. He's not a girl. More like he wants to be nothing at all... null gender... etc... but also he doesn't have the language for that and would likely push back against it because of the way he was treated by Warren and the issues he has with like. personhood and manhood... but experimenting with (expensive) clothing is a way for him to explore his own autonomy in spite of that treatment and a way to learn to hate himself a little bit less, maybe, even though he's still very insecure.

he also has a "nazi punks fuck off" shirt, but... he wouldn't wear that to thanksgiving with aunt may... probably. I'm sure his leather jacket is around here somewhere...

i picked thanksgiving arbitrarily btw 😂 it just made the most sense as a reason for may to force i mean ask them all to come over and get pictures and stuff. kaine leaves nyc in 2012 following ben and only comes back for good in 2016, but when he and aracely first come up in the summer there's a bunch of stuff happening so it makes sense to do fall, once it's settled down...

May: Oh, by the way Peter, I invited your... brothers... to Thanksgiving. Peter: You did WHAT?!

#let's pretend they have a photo backdrop because i didn't want to draw a background #ben reilly #peter parker #kaine parker #aunt may #clone bros #nadiart #fanadiart #came in through the window last night #flash would be on E for like a year at this point... small changes #not sure which art tag to use for this.................#rough art #but also #shiny art #kind of in between #peter is a lil tilted (i mean the drawing is literally crooked) but he looks extra tilted because ben's sleeve is in front of his shoulder #alas #i'm not fixing it

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iamnmbr3 · 2 years ago

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i am once again thinking about how insane the way that house elves are handled in HP is. like. even with all of JKR’s problematic attitudes you’d think she would have a grip on the whole “slavery = bad” thing. Right? Like. That’s not a lot to ask. That should just be the baseline. But apparently not.

It would already could be problematic if the story had slavery but portrayed it as a positive thing where all the slave characters are happy. But she didn’t even go with that. Every named house elf character we meet is mistreated. The institution of slavery clearly is not a positive thing for them. AND YET. Despite that the message is that the characters who roll their eyes about abolishing slavery are in the right. The line “they like being enslaved” is spoken not by a villain but by a hero character who at no point revises his views. And we the readers are supposed to agree with him. And we’re supposed to agree that the one (1) character who expresses an interest in abolition is being overdramatic.

It’s especially weird because in book 2 when Dobby is introduced Harry actually IS horrified by his enslavement. And he helps free him from his enslavers - who are villain coded characters. BUT THEN when house elves come back into the story Harry’s attitudes are suddenly retconned. He’s no longer horrified. He goes along with Ron poo-pooing Hermione’s campaign against house elf enslavement. Yes, Sirius is portrayed as being in the wrong for mistreating Kreacher, but it’s treated as a character flaw rather than something absolutely unacceptable. Certainly no characters step in and try to free Kreacher or protect him from Sirius. And the story ends with no indication that house elf slavery is going to end. Like JKR really went “whoops. I had my protag be against slavery in the earlier books. better fix that lol”.

And just. Why??? What would possess someone to write institutionalized slavery into their universe, portray it as an abusive system that harms its victims, but then have the message be “it’s fine actually and abolition is cringe”????????? I mean. Wut? This isn’t even supposed to be a gritty story with morally questionable protagonists. Yes there are some complex characters but it’s more or less good guys vs bad guys. And yet. The good guys get retconned to be pro slavery. And never change their minds.

And it’s treated as a JOKE. It’s such a bizarre concept. What was she thinking?! It was just:

#house elves #JKR #Harry Potter #my post

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whiskey-tango-matcha · 11 months ago

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FOH/BOH pt 1/2 (M, cold)

I'm splitting this in two because it's going to be 2 fairly distinct parts. In this one, Elijah is sick - but I'll be honest, a lot of it is just Mark being introspective. I wanted to write out a little of his story, since my last story had a good amount of Matt's inner thoughts. Idk what else to say about this one, lol other than Elijah catches something from the servers and is his usual pissed off self about it. Next part will hopefully be out soon-ish. Hope you all like it :)

CW: male, cold, fever, light mess, contagion, coughing. 2.7k words.

FOH/BOH

As far as Matt was concerned, there were two types of people in this world: front of house, and back of house.

Matt didn’t believe in astrology; he thought the enneagram was stupid, hated personality tests, and nearly scoffed in Elijah’s face when he told the management team at Elliot’s they’d be analyzing management styles using one of those what-color-is-your-parachute tests during the slow season this year. He did, however, believe firmly, almost spiritually, in the FOH/BOH divide.

The differences, Matt knew, could be subtle or obvious, but they were always distinct.

“Elijahhh!” Greyson called from the kitchen at the top of his lungs. “We can all hear you from in here!”

The cooks whooped with laughter from their prep stations behind the line, and Matt bit his cheek to keep from joining them. Greyson turned towards him, a smirk painted on his face, and secured his hair at the top of his head with a sharpie while they waited for Elijah’s inevitable trudge into the kitchen.

When Elijah pushed through the kitchen doors, the cooks forced themselves into submission and strapped in for the dressing-down they knew was coming their chef’s way. Elijah walked straight to the prep table in the middle of the kitchen and made livid eye contact with Greyson, obviously ready to go to blows. Matt, entirely too close for comfort, took a tentative step towards the line to keep out of the path of destruction.

“Do you thingk,” Elijah said, his voice low and cracking, “that you could fucking cool it with the theatrics, just this once? Just for today? For mbe – hh – hhITZCH-ue! HTSHH-uh! HRRTSHH-ue! Hh-!”

Elijah was stuck in a sort of pre-sneeze purgatory for longer than Greyson had the patience for, apparently. “By all means,” Greyson said, leaning on the prep table with his head in one hand, “don’t stop on my behalf.”

The GM colored and lowered his arm from his face, casting daggers at the chef. “Do you really thingk it’s appropriate for us to fuckigg squabble around your staff?” Elijah asked, quiet enough that only Greyson and Matt could hear it. Greyson smiled, stood to his full height, and placed a hand on Elijah’s shoulder.

“I do,” he said at full volume. “They’re not our real kids, it’s okay if they see mommy and daddy duke it out.”

The cooks roared once again, and Elijah flushed, clearly annoyed. “Fine,” he said, clearing his throat. “You’re on one today. Whatever. I have to go findish helping the servers set up for the night. Leave mbe out of your stupid little mood.”

“I’m on one because you have the server’s fuckin’ flu and you should be at home, not continuing the spread,” Greyson said to Elijah’s back as his boss started out the kitchen doors. “Mark is coming in in twenty minutes and you are leaving.”

Elijah didn’t turn back around, just flashed the kitchen the finger as he walked out into the dining room. Greyson turned towards his sous and rolled his eyes.

“Passive aggressive fuck,” Greyson said, picking his knife up and turning towards the line cooks behind him. “Don’t worry, guys, we still love you all, mommy and daddy just get frustrated with one another sometimes.”

Another round of laughter from the cooks. Matt shook his head, smiling until they all heard Elijah once again from the dining room – “HRRESHHH-ue!”

Greyson smiled devilishly at Matt, then his cooks, and held up his hand. “One, two,” he mouthed to the cooks, holding up the corresponding fingers. When he got to three, he pointed to the swinging doors that lead to the dining room. The whole kitchen, in tandem, called towards them.

“Bless you, Elijah.”

Within seconds, Elijah’s strained voice answered. “Oh, fuck off all of you.”

This time, the line cooks nearly collapsed with laughter. Greyson turned towards Matt, grinning ear to ear. “Think he heard us?” he asked. Matt couldn’t help but join in on the laughter this time.

***

At first, Mark hadn’t been sure that he bought Matt’s whole front of house person/back of house person bullshit.

“People have layers, babe,” Mark had said, coursing his fingers through Matt’s hair while they ignored the movie that was playing on TV. “No one is just… some caricature of ‘kitchen’ or ‘dining room’. This isn’t The Bear.”

“But that’s the thing, baby, it kind of is The Bear,” Matt said, sitting up straight and looking his boyfriend in the eye. “Did you not relate to The Bear? I don’t think this is going to work if you didn’t relate to The Bear, I’m not gonna lie to you.”

“I mean, yeah, I did but… I don’t know. I want to be more than just my job, y’know?” Mark pulled Matt back to laying on his lap – Matt allowed himself to be pulled.

“This isn’t about your job, it’s about your personality,” Matt explained. “Not everyone has worked in a restaurant, but that doesn’t mean they’re not a front or back of house person.”

“I’m so lost, honey. I thought this was about restaurants.”

“No, it’s about people.”

“Maybe you should look into getting your GED,” Mark said, elbowing Matt playfully. “So you can go to college for, like, sociology or something.”

“Oh fuck you,” Matt said, not unkindly. “You have to know what I mean. C’mon. You’re telling me you’ve never met someone and gone, ‘oh, that person’s totally a kitchen person’.”

“I can genuinely say I have not,” Mark said, placing a kiss on the top of Matt’s head. “Your mind is an enigma.”

They’d dropped it at that point, but Mark hadn’t stopped thinking about it all week. He’d thought about it when he’d talked to his dad on the phone and he asked Mark whether he’d gotten his oil changed lately, but didn’t say ‘I love you’ when they hung up – man, he’s such a back of house guy. He’d thought about it when he’d bought a coffee and the barista asked him about the entirety of his college career in England while a line formed out the door behind him – never met such a front of house person in my life. He’d especially thought about it at work, where the servers and bussers loudly complained all week about being sick.

“Maaaark,” Riley, their lead server, whined to him one day. “I feel like fuckin shiiiit.”

“Well, the shift is 85% over,” Mark replied as he replaced the silverware on an empty table. “Do you think you can make it another hour?”

Riley had pouted, sniffled, and shrugged. “I guess,” she said, opening her server book. “But, like, I’ve already made my money tonight, can’t you just cut me early?”

Typical front of house, Mark had thought to himself. So maybe Matt had been right; maybe there were just two types of people in this world. The problem was, despite having been ‘front of house’ most of his adult life, he didn’t know if he really… belonged there.

Mark had, essentially, fallen into working in restaurants; he’d been an English major in college – which basically guaranteed your life to veer towards serving tables or shaking cocktails – and when he’d graduated, he hadn’t felt the pull towards teaching or grad school or any of the typical ‘English major’ careers his friends had chosen. Instead, he kept his serving job; eventually, the resort that he worked at offered him a banquet captain position, which he did until he realized catering made him want to stab both eyes out with a cocktail fork. When he moved to New York on a whim, Mark had been sure he’d apply to grad school, or look for a copy-writing position, or apply to be a publisher’s assistant – but he didn’t. Instead, he found himself dialing the number on a flyer in the window of a soon-to-be-opened restaurant near the apartment he shared with four other recent college grads.

“Future home of Elliot’s restaurant, this is Elijah speaking,” the voice on the other end of the number answered on the first ring.

“Hi,” Mark had said. “I was wondering if you were hiring any front of house positions?”

It turned out that Mark was the first person to call Elijah in search of a job. Despite his only being twenty-one at the time, and despite the fact that he had no managerial experience, Elijah hired him on the spot to be the front of house manager.

“You have a good vibe,” Elijah said when they met at a coffee shop for Mark’s interview. “That’s all I really care about.”

And then suddenly, somehow, seven years had passed. He’d never found a good enough reason to leave Elliot’s; he was paid well, Elijah let him take tips when he had to cover for servers or bartenders, and the work, while demanding, felt mostly fun. He’d never felt like a front of house person, he was just… a person who worked in the front of house. Sometimes, Mark thought, he didn’t know what kind of person he was at all. A person who things just happened around. A background person. A person that no one could say much about, other than he had a good vibe.

That is, until Matt.

“Hi honey,” Matt said as Mark pushed through the back doors into the kitchen. Mark smiled wide when he saw that Matt was alone in the back kitchen; he pulled his boyfriend in for a long kiss, which Matt returned greedily.

“Hi,” Mark said, finally pulling away. “How have things been here this morning?”

Before Matt could answer, they heard a huge, “HRRTSHH-ue!” from the front kitchen. Mark whipped his head towards the sound, then back to Matt.

“Please tell me that isn’t what I think it is,” Mark said. Matt pressed his lips together, unwilling to be the bearer of bad news.

“Mbark,” Elijah said, rounding the corner with a hand held over the bottom half of his face, “you’re here, great.” The GM yanked a paper towel from the holder on the wall next to Matt and used it to wipe his nose before gesturing Mark to follow him, “Let’s go over the ndight, mbeet me in the office.”

“Right behind you,” Mark murmured to Elijah’s back. Before he followed his boss, he threw Matt a pained look, which his boyfriend returned with a mouthed, I’m sorry.

When the servers were sick, they were annoying because they complained constantly. They called out at the slightest provocation, they glommed onto one another and spread their illnesses like wildfire, and they always ended up sending their shit into the kitchen when one of them inevitably slept with a cook after a long night of drinking. When Elijah was sick, though, it was annoying for a whole other set of reasons.

Mostly, if he was honest, it was the blatant denial that he found obnoxious. “So, tondight shouldn’t be too heinous,” Elijah said, rubbing his nose on the back of his hand as he sat at the shared desk. “It’s tomborrow we really have to – tuh… hhITZSHH-ue! HTSHH-ue!” Elijah folded in on himself to sneeze away from Mark, blearily rubbed his eyes behind his glasses, and attempted to continue. “To worry about,” he finished, coughing into the back of his hand.

“Uh huh,” Mark said, taking in the state of his boss. Elijah had been quiet yesterday, and quick to annoyance, but despite knowing the man for almost a decade, Mark still wasn’t able to decipher between ‘quiet, easily annoyed’ Elijah and ‘getting sick’ Elijah. The two were indecipherable from one another.

“Don’t sit too close, Mark,” Greyson’s voice called from the prep station near the line. Both Mark and Elijah looked over at the chef, who was butchering New York’s and smirking to himself. “He’s sick as a dog.”

“Greyson,” Elijah called, his voice cracking on the word. “Could you combe in here for a minute, please?”

Greyson rolled his eyes, but put down his knife and walked toward the office all the same. “Yes, dear?” he asked, toweling off his hands and leaning on the office’s door frame. “How can I help you? Some tea, maybe, or perhaps a drive home?”

Elijah stood, pulled Greyson into the office, and shut the door. “Stop fuckigg patronizing mbe in front of the staff,” he growled, poking a finger into the chef’s chest. Greyson huffed out a little laugh and slapped a hand on Elijah’s forehead.

“I’ll stop,” he said, “when you no longer have a hundred-and-two fever.”

There they stood, the two ultimate testaments to Matt’s theory, duking it out in front of a clearly-forgotten Mark. Greyson, the gregarious, heart on his sleeve, back-of-house guy who would just as soon scream at you as he would give you the shirt off his back, and Elijah, the subdued stay-together-for-the-kids front of house man, who knew everything about everyone and cared so hard he couldn’t see anyone else caring about him in return. Yin and yang. Front and back. Which are you, Mark? he thought to himself as the standoff continued.

“Mark,” Greyson said, breaking the spell, “can you handle tonight by yourself out front?”

Mark blinked, first at his boss, then at Greyson, and finally found his voice. “Y-yeah, I mean, of course I can,” he said.

“It’s a busy ndight, Grey, I don’t waahhh – ETSCHH-zue! HhhNGTSHH-uhh!” Elijah wrenched to the side to keep from sneezing in Greyson’s face – much to the detriment of Mark.

“Yikes,” Greyson muttered, watching Mark cringe against the spray Elijah directed, unknowingly, into his face. His boss flushed bright red when he realized what he’d done.

“Fuckigg shit,” Elijah murmured, yanking a tissue out of the box and handing it, lamely, to Mark. “Fugck, Mbark I’mb so sorry I didn’t meee – ETSCHH-zue!” This time, Elijah tented both hands over his face to keep from having a repeat of that incident. Greyson took his hand back then, shrunk away from the GM.

“Maybe, uh, give us a signal next time?” Greyson said, an attempt to break the tension. Mark would’ve laughed if he didn’t feel so thoroughly...infected.

“Would’ve if I could’ve,” Elijah grumbled, pulling another tissue out and blowing his nose. “Mbark, I’m so -”

“It’s fine, boss,” Mark said, standing. “But, um, I do think Chef is right – maybe you should go home, sleep it off?”

Elijah swallowed, pain evident on his face, and finally gave up the charade. “Alright,” he said, curt. “Finde. I’ll go.” He turned back towards Mark. “You’re sure you’ve got this?”

“Of course, boss,” Mark said. Elijah nodded.

“Okay,” he said. “Take sombe Emergen-C or something, okay?”

“Okay, boss,” Mark said. Elijah coughed painfully into the sleeve of his shirt, grabbed his backpack, and signed out of the computer.

“I’ll drive you home,” Greyson offered, but Elijah shook his head.

“Thanks, mother, but I think I can handle a five-mbinute drive with a cold,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Just mbake sure your guys are ready for tomorrow ndight – it’s going to be a doozy.”

“And that’s how we know it’s really time for you to leave, when you start using words like ‘doozy’,” Greyson said, pushing Elijah out the door. “Go. You’ve infected enough people today.”

Finally, Elijah did as he was told and left. Mark and Greyson stood in the office avoiding eye contact with each other for what felt like a long moment.

“You wanna run to the store and get some Emergen-C?” Greyson asked, breaking the awkward silence. Mark laughed a little.

“Yeah,” he said, pulling a hand down his face, “I guess I probably should.”

On his way out the back door, Matt caught the back of Mark’s shirt. “The fuck is going on up there?” he asked, confusion written all over his face. “Where are you going? Did Elijah go home?”

Mark turned and embraced Matt, then pulled back to offer a small smile. “Elijah went home,” he said. “And I’ll be right back.”

“Where are you going?” Matt asked again. Mark just sighed and gave his boyfriend a defeated look.

“I’m going to try and ward off the stupid fucking front of house flu.”

#whiskeyswriting #snz #sickfic #snzfic #coldfic #snzblr #snez #male cold #male snz #contagion #sneezeblr

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robertseanleonardthinker · 5 months ago

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we're in love by badflower is so hilson to me. particularly from wilson's pov.

(whoops, this ended up being a lot longer than i meant it to. gay wilson hc rambling ahead!)

imo, wilson is gay. he, of course, loves his wives. he's full of love!!!! but he misconstrues the feeling of platonic love and romantic love. he's so deeply repressed that he just thinks this is the way it's supposed to be. wilson tries so hard, in all aspects of his life, to appear normal. this includes his sexuality. he's been attracted to and had feelings for men (house), but he always ignored them. maybe even thought that those were normal for straight men, as well. every guy checks out other dudes, right?

the repetition of the words "lights out" (in we're in love) is interesting to me. i'm of the idea that wilson and house hooked up in louisiana. drunk, tired, on his first divorce, freshly bailed put of jail by a stranger who found him "interesting." they're in his hotel room, lights off, bodies and faces invisible. and wilson represses that. they don't bring it up again.

wilson is so full of shame. his feelings stay in the dark. no light shines on that secret hidden deep in the back of his mind. the dark is the only time he can be himself ("the light's out, so fucking emasculate me/fuck away the fake me"). when the light of day will never touch him, when he can not see himself doing what he's doing.

the constant switch between shame and pride within the lyrics, going from "i know what i want, so let them isolate me" right back to "lights out!" also feels very much like wilson with his and house's relationship. i think house was who wilson cheated on his wives with (at least, most of the time. i wouldn't doubt there were more women, too). though ashamed of that feeling, that attraction, he couldn't do anything about it. it wouldn't go away. he kept coming back to house (often, again, drunk, tired, and emotionally fried) and loving him in the dark.

the line "i know who you are, and i don't care at all" can also be interpreted two ways. one being, he knows house is not his wife. the person he is pursuing is not the one he is in a closed, committed relationship with. the other being that house is, well, house. a man, and also his best friend of two decades.

tldr wilson is sooooo fucked up and repressed and needs sooo much therapy

#sorry for the autistic rambling it will happen again #i would write a fic abt this but i am. not good at relationships #might try my hand at it idk i have nothing to do #house md #james wilson #wilson #dr wilson #hatecrimes md #repression md #robert sean leonard #rsl #hilson #greg house #house md headcanons #Spotify

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yakkety-yak-art · 5 months ago

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Saw the ghost movie that I was really excited about. Was disappointing. Ultimately it was just really…okay or downright bad in the parts that weren’t concert footage. More specific comments below the cut because spoilers, I guess, but there’s really nothing that happens in this movie that matters enough to count as a spoiler.

First, if this had just been concert footage, it would have been much more enjoyable. The movie parts were not at all interesting and each cutaway made it drag on and on. I hadn’t slept well the night before the showing, so the movie itself wasn’t the reason I was dozing off at some parts…but it also wasn’t helping keep me AWAKE outside of the concert footage. No complaints about that footage (mostly, but I’ll get back to it later).

Story: whoops, Tobias Forge can’t write! Sorry, that’s a bit mean, but…I paid money to watch this, so I’ll be a little bit mean. Seriously, this thing needed at least a couple more passes with the script. Every. single. conversation. as repeating what was already brought up in the OPENING voiceover: Cardi doesn’t wanna die, doesn’t wanna stop fronting for Ghost, but everything ends eventually. Yes, we GET IT. We do not need several scenes of Cardi with his parents saying it over and over again with no additional information added to understand that. After the opening VO, we could’ve just had one scene of Cardi looking a bit forlornly at himself in the mirror, and then Sister Imperator happily telling him that “things are going to be changing in the clergy soon!” or something like that and he looks unhappy.

That’s what I thought we were getting at first, but then it just. Kept happening??? Like oh my god Tobias, I get it, Cardi doesn’t want this to end, I KNOW. The quality of the writing suggests that Tobias is one of three things: incompetent at writing anything longer than a short (maybe, but the other two are a bit more likely), had no real story to tell and this could’ve been one of the shorts so he had to pad it out to an insufferable length (definitely), or so full of himself that he thought “eh, I don’t actually have anything to say, but this way I’ll get to be on screen the whole time and the only writer credited,” (probable). It’s just so offensive considering I know there were so many resources available to make this GOOD: more time, writing assistance or hiring a real writer, etc. and yet they were not taken advantage of. If this was something just put up on YouTube I really couldn't care less about the quality, but if you're charging money for this AND are as big as Ghost is, you can't expect to slide by with mediocrity. Except he will, because apparently everyone else loved this thing. Okay. Also, the humor overall just fell super flat. There were several moments where I was like, "wait, was that a joke? was I meant to laugh there?" because they were just nothing. Also, there was a fart joke. Okay.

Acting: sorry, I’m going to be mean again. The acting in the movie parts was very. Hit or miss is what I’m gonna call it. The voice acting in the voiceovers at the beginning and the end were oddly rushed in several places? They weren’t placing words in very natural ways and it just felt like they needed to do another take for some of the lines. It’s especially noticeable in the beginning voiceover because in most of it he’s speaking at a slower pace and it’s perfect and sounds great, but then he just…speeds up sometimes? And it doesn’t feel intentional and isn’t in places that make it feel like it makes sense to speed up for dramatic effect. In Sister Imp’s voiceover at the end, she is also just speeding through it and it’s incredibly awkward, because in a lot of places it’s noticeably faster than she’s speaking in her other scenes. Like, guys, you know you can shoot more footage right??? You can put some b roll in??? You don’t have to squeeze the whole speech into the shorter shot you have if it’s going to compromise the actor’s delivery.

Tobias' acting was passable for the whole thing, though that might be partially because he's not acting with his face as much as the others, so it's less noticeable when something isn't quite working. Sister Imp did a fine job for the most part, excluding her VO and some awkwardness (and no, not intentional awkwardness) in a couple scenes with Papa Nihil. Papa was also fine; nothing to write home about but nothing terrible stood out to me. Most of the issues probably came from the special effects on him to make him ghostly, which I'm presuming involved him being on a green screen or something (I have no clue. Idk anything about making effects lmao.) I'm NOT going to really review the acting of the stagehands because that's not their main job and they already had a lot of work to do, but it wasn't so bad as to take anything away from the scenes they're in. Basically, the acting overall was okay, but not great, and it adds to how much the scenes drag on for sure.

Tiny section about the animated Mary On A Cross segment: I'm not gonna comment on the bad animation, because it's on purpose and emulating old Hanna-Barbera cartoons. My issue is that it makes zero sense and goes nowhere. Nihil chases Sister Imp around for a while looking forlorn and sad and desperate, and she runs away/beats him up while looking pissed off until they come across a graveyard and she pulls him into a kiss. Then it cuts to Nihil naked in a hotel room in the morning while she storms off angrily....okay? And? What changed her mind? Why is she still angry in the morning? Why does this matter at all? Knowing that Papa IV was the product of a one night stand is a footnote if this is all we get from it. Just weird, and didn't fit the song IMO.

Editing: super frantic and distracting in places, particularly the fast cuts in the concert footage. It's just a lot and can be disorienting. Nothing is really allowed to sit on screen for very long (which is related to another point...) but at the same time, some of the movie shots just linger for no reason. They're just awkward and clunky and repetitive. Some people disliked the crowd shots, but I thought they were fun and cute and used sparingly enough. Shout out to the dude in the nun costume!

Weird lack of concert footage: what they chose to keep and what to cut was just confusing. Most of the footage was just Tobias singing, short shots of the Ghouls rocking out, and crowd footage. Almost none of the Ghoul antics that they're known for, unless Tobias was also in shot and involved. Whenever he went backstage and a Ghoul took the spotlight (I'm sorry, I can never remember who is who, but it was usually White Guitar Ghoul if I recall correctly), it cut to a story moment which, again, were boring, repetitive, and told us nothing. It just felt disrespectful to cut out so much of the Ghouls and their performances, especially because the crowd and the fans love them a lot. They add so much to Ghost's live shows and, in my opinion, are more important to Ghost than Tobias. I don't care if that's a "controversial" Ghost opinion to have, but it really is true. I think anyone could be any of the Papas. But the Ghouls, even when they get changed out, are always so talented, so energetic, so passionate, and make Ghost what it is in a live setting. They were also missing from all but one movie scene, where one of them asks if they're doing an encore, and for a second I thought the line had been spoken by one of the stagehands. That's it.

(Okay, there's also there in the scene where Sister Imp dies, but they're just standing there.)

I can't speak for if the Ghouls themselves felt a bit sidelined or disrespected by this. I can't say for certain if they even wanted a bigger presence outside of the concert footage. But I can definitely say that, from a fan perspective, the lack of the Ghouls compared to how OFTEN Tobias is on screen, backstage, doing NOTHING when we could be watching the Ghouls was GLARINGLY obvious. It felt weird and it felt uneven. I started getting really irritated by about the third time it cut backstage when I could be watching the Ghouls! It just led to the whole thing feeling super vain and self-important considering Tobias wrote the film to be this way. Some people have defended this by saying, "well, they're the Nameless Ghouls!" but that's bullshit. They're part of Ghost canon too, so why don't we get anything from them? We can't even see a little bit about how they might be feeling regarding a Clergy mix up? Whether they care about the current Papa, or anything like that? Involving them would feel so much more interesting than just another Papa, but this one wants to KEEP singing!! Again, maybe the Ghouls didn't want to be more involved...but it felt off.

I've never seen Ghost live, so I had no frame of reference for how much was cut from the concert footage aside from the lack of Ghoul antics, which is what they're known for, but apparently several people who were at the concerts filmed for this noticed a ton of footage that was cut (again, mostly Ghouls) that they thought would have been more fun to see compared to so many backstage shots. And yet we got the sequence of him in a boxing outfit, walking through the crowd, which ended with...nothing? He just...does that? Waste of time. (AND YES, I KNOW that it is a reference. That doesn't make it good. It didn't need to be there. Replace it with something relevant.) It just exemplifies how much time is wasted in this movie.

Special effects: oh my god did anyone even look at this movie before sending it out Jesus Christ. The special effects are so bad I was genuinely shocked. When Papa IV and Papa Nihil are talking while IV is in a box (for some reason?? I actually don't know why) Nihil is weirdly sized and not lined up properly. It was odd. The greenscreen was so godawful I was honestly amazed. It's YouTuber comedy sketch levels of greenscreen quality. What the fuck? Especially compared to the amazing performance and how much work is put into their live shows, the horrid effects stood out starkly. Another comment on Nihil: his face is hard to see in some scenes. His ghostly effects make his features kind of blur together sometimes, and sometimes it doesn't, so it clearly wasn't intentional. Just another odd thing. The effect of him getting sucked into his body for his sax performance was very, very bad. I know you had the option to put more time and/or money into the effects, Tobias. Why did you not. What is your problem. Why the fuck would you put out a product of this quality for money and act like it's okay, especially considering the fact that this was marketed as a lore-heavy MOVIE and not just a concert film? If this was a smaller production I would not rag on the effects, but I know for a fact that Tobias has the resources for this to be better, and he chose to not use them. Honestly, it feels disrespectful.

That's the crux of my issues with this movie, really. It was teased as a real movie with real lore and serious effects on the canon of Ghost, and it was none of those things. The lore amounted to Sister Imp dying, which means nothing, because ghosts, and Cardi becoming Frater Imperator at the very end and then the movie ending. It's NOTHING. There's also an end credit scene apparently, which I did not stay to view, because I didn't care and I had been sitting for long enough. Basically, there are ghosts (including Sister Imp, obvi) and then another cliffhanger about meeting the new Papa, and an implication that Cardi has a twin who might be the new Papa. People are freaking out about this possibility. I have no idea why. It really doesn't seem like a big deal at this point when all the Papas have a crazy family situation. A secret twin doesn't even feel like a twist, and it's certainly not enough to count as an addition to the lore when it hasn't even been confirmed. At the risk of sounding rude, fellow Ghost fans, raise your standards. You deserve better.

And that's the crux of my issues with this whole thing. It's mediocre, it's boring, it's absolutely nothing outside of some fun concert footage, and yet it was billed as a must-see film and cost real, actual money to view. If they had been honest about it being a concert movie, I'd have been fine with that! I think they're fun, especially for those of us who can't go to live shows. But we were told it would be more than that, and it wasn't. It feels disrespectful, like Tobias knew he could just put out some slop and people would be okay with it, and it feels even worse because in a way, he was right. Tons of Ghost fans loved this movie, but the more positive reviews I see, the clearer it becomes that they just loved the chance to see the concerts, and love Ghost. Loving Ghost didn't make me love this movie. It just made me disappointed and sad. We could have gotten a great film, but we got something that was low effort because it's obvious that you can take advantage of the fans of something by throwing them crumbs and dressing it up to seem nicer than it is.

I appreciate that individual people on this production put tons of effort into this; the crew, the actors (excluding Tobias) who were clearly doing their best with what they had, and yes, I'm sure even the effects people did what they could with what they had. But all of the parts that were clearly Tobias' call were not high enough quality to be in a movie.

#yakketyyak #the band ghost #ghost bc #ghost band #papa emeritus iv #papa nihil #sister imperator #nameless ghouls #rite here rite now #movie review #sorry this is an essay this just pissed me off #we deserve better guys! if you give someone money for something #and they're already rich #or at least have a pretty large amount of money which TF or at least the company definitely has #then they're a piece of shit #don't try and tell me TF lives humble and needs monetary help i dont give a fuck the man isnt even close to broke #idgaf if u sided w TF on the lawsuit issue either lmao #whomp whomp the front man taking all the credit was expected to share the money with the ppl helping him oh nooo #u dont get to do the whole “im just a small little indie band” song and dance anymore when ur as big as ghost

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delacyrose224 · 1 year ago

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Christmas Tree Farm

Pairing: Seo Changbin x reader

Genre: Christmas fluff

Word Count: 1.2k

Author's Note: Just a fluffy little piece for Christmas! This is technically a sequel to King of My Heart, but you can read it as a standalone as well.

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

“Go away,” you murmur at the insistent buzzing tormenting you. Instead of listening to you, it grows even more insistent and louder.

“I said go away!!” You pick up your pillow, only to shove it on top of your head. Even through all the layers, you hear a deep grunt beside you as a heavy weight falls over your side. You whine in protest, but the buzzing sound finally stops.

You sigh in relief, not bothering to remove the pillow, instead content to fall back asleep with it as an extra layer. The peace doesn’t last for long, as the end of the pillow lifts up, letting light into your cocoon. You squint blearily towards it, seeing the outline of your boyfriend’s face lit up like a halo.

“Binnie, no…whyyyyy,” you protest, but a smirk plays across his pouty lips as he wraps his arms around you, dragging you closer to him and the daylight that you wish would just go away.

“Becauseeeee,” he giggles into your neck, planting soft kisses along the way. “Someone said they wanted to pick out a Christmas tree today, did they not?”

“Well that was before this exhausting week happened, and we didn’t go to bed till like 3am last night,” you whine.

“Hmm…I wonder why that was,” Changbin replies, raising an eyebrow at you as he rolls you over, your knees now straddling across his hips. You can see his eyes darken momentarily as you both remember what distraction kept you up so late.

“Okay…worth it, would repeat, 10/10 would recommend…but still! It’s so cold outside, and it’s so warm in here, and cozy…why would I not want to curl up with my cute, sexy boyfriend in bed?” You lean down, planting a slow, soft kiss on his lips.

As he draws back, he sighs and runs a gentle hand across your cheek. “You make a good argument, but I want to go to the Christmas tree farm with my gorgeous, sexy girlfriend. Tell you what, we go get the tree, decorate it, and then we can cuddle and watch a movie later.” Your eyebrow raises in question. “Nightmare Before Christmas?” You nod happily at his suggestion, rolling off the bed, suddenly filled with excitement.

—-------------------------------------------

A couple of hours later, you’re pulling into the parking lot of a Christmas tree farm a little ways out of the city. You can’t help grinning as you look over at your boyfriend, dressed in a cozy sweater, scarf, and glasses…it just might be one of your favorite looks on him.

“...what?” he asks nervously. Whoops, you must have been staring longer than you thought.

“Nothing, you just look handsome, that’s all.” You lean in, landing a peck on the tip of his nose. He scrunches it in response, smiling at you.

“Thanks, pretty.” He holds out his gloved hand for you to take, leading you towards the many rows of fir trees in front of you.

—-------------------------------

On the 5th row, you think you’ve found the one. About 6.5 feet tall, not too wide, and no bare spots.

“This will look so good in the living room!” you squeal, clapping your hands. Changbin nods emphatically, agreeing with you.

With help from the staff at the farm, Changbin is able to tie the tree to the top of the car. “Wanna explore before we go home? I saw that they had snacks and a craft fair as well.” It’s your turn to nod, and you grab his hand and lead the way to an indoor section of the farm. As soon as you enter, your senses are overwhelmed in the best way. There’s plush seating by several fireplaces lining the walls, you can smell cider and baked goods, and kids are excitedly yelling while they run around.

You both take off your gloves, and as Changbin reaches to take your hand again, he squeezes it. You look over to see him grinning at you. “Where to first?” you ask.

“I think I might die if I don’t have some cider, it smells so good,” he laughs, pulling you towards the nearest booth selling the beverage. After paying, he hands you a cup, the other finding your empty hand again.

The two of you wander around the craft fair booths, admiring homemade toys, quilts, and jams. You even pick one out for Changbin’s mom as a gift, seeing as you’re visiting for the holidays in a week or so. “She’ll love it,” he smiles, kissing your forehead. “Just like she loves you.” Your face grows hot at the statement, but you’re pleased nevertheless.

After wandering around for a while, the two of you find yourselves sinking into a velvet couch in front of a fireplace. Your head rests on Changbin’s shoulder, and you let out a contented sigh.

“Penny for your thoughts?” he asks, kissing the crown of your head.

“I’m happy we came to get the tree…thanks for convincing me.” You look up at him, smiling.

“I mean, you drive a hard bargain…tomorrow, I’m definitely staying in bed with you to cuddle…and maybe some other things.” He winks at you as you swat at his arm, which causes him to laugh squeakily.

“Seriously…this is so nice. It just feels cozy, like home. Mostly cause I’m here with you.” Changbin opens his mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. You can see that his ears have turned a deep shade of red, almost matching your sweater.

All he can manage to do is lean forward and begin pressing soft kisses over your face and the crown of your head, ending with a longer, more insistent one on your lips. You can feel him smiling into the kiss, which makes you smile as well. As you lean back to break away, he simply chases you into the corner of the couch, his hand finding purchase on the nape of your neck, his fingers in your hair as he continues kissing you.

“Binnie, we’re in public!” you hiss, though he can tell you’re not too upset by the look you give him.

“You didn’t care too much about that after our first date, now, did you?” He wiggles his eyebrows and laughs.

“That was at my apartment, this is in public public!” You’re becoming a little frazzled, and he tucks an errant strand of hair behind your ear.

“Look up, pretty.” You follow his gaze up towards the ceiling, where you see mistletoe hanging from a Victorian style streetlamp that the farm has used for decor. At this, you can’t help but start to giggle.

“Well, in that case…” You lean forward again, connecting your lips with his, nipping lightly at his bottom lip. His hands find your waist, squeezing for a second before letting you go. Luckily, everyone around you had been too wrapped up in their own holiday festivities to notice your PDA.

“I’m really glad I met you at that party all those months ago…even though I made you spill beer on your shoes,” Changbin murmurs against your hair, back in the cuddled up position you had started in. “You feel like home to me too.”

You sit in comfortable silence for a while, listening to the crackle of the fireplace and the hum of the people around you.

“Should we get going and get the tree home? I wouldn’t want you to miss out on your spooky Christmas movie fix. I’ll even make you dinner, how’s that sound?”

“Amazing. I love you, Binnie.” You two don’t say this too often, though you know it to be true.

“Love you more, pretty.”

—------------------------------------------

Taglist: @hyungieyoongi @derinxfam @iluvhyunjinnieboo @alpacaparkaseok @itsmegracekim

Read more of my work here!

#skz fluff #changbin fluff #changbin x y/n #changbin x reader

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wawamouse · 9 days ago

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[bursts into your inbox as if we were having a conversation you were definitely not aware we were having] -one reason we need more slightly more modern outside AUs is: how unhinged could the texts between Chico and Miguel get?? The possibilities for conversational wtfuckery with these two!!

(I'm sure for the longest time it would be the most short and uninformative texting desert where they barely go beyond "u hungry?" and "k" level communication. But there would be bursts of amusing absurdist insanity that goes on and on.)

Yes this was prompted by something you reblogged on another blog, and I came here to tell you rather than politely musing in my own area.

Wow you’re so right, we need to make miguel and chico millennials…. or we just need to give them cellphones lol

(for those wondering, the post I reblogged was this )

also i do think “k” & leaving on read is miguel’s style of communication (toward chico) but probably only because i headcanon chico texting him like an insane person, both when he like-likes miguel and also when he hates him (bc that's hardly going to make him leave miguel alone lol). i could see him firing off an essay in single line texts and god help miguel when chico discovers audio messages (but at the same time, i think miguel would send audio messages more) (which chico would love because… come on 😂). i think miguel is better at cyber stalking someone than chico tho (ok now i’m just going into my Technology Headcanons). just, like, miguel is better at researching than chico. but chico knows more about torrenting and vpns and anti-virus stuff. also his bookmarks bar has a bunch of porn sites saved if we're being real

idk, i just don't see miguel as a texting person 😂 I think he prefers face-to-face communication or talking on the phone where as chico who probably has a really aggressive way of texting and also he uses T9 lol

i also think chico would send truly indecipherable memes sometimes, not because he thinks they’re funny (he doesn't get them) but because he just compulsively forwards every little piece of internet junk, clickbait, memes, buzzfeed quizzes, etc, straight to miguel, not really caring if he even responds or not bc anything he Actually wants miguel to see, he'll just bring up in person...

2 AU thoughts that immediately jumped to mind:

they meet as wrong numbers—like, one of them accidentally texts the wrong new contact or something—they got a fake number (haha), etc., and then the other person responds and they have a sort of curt conversation of realising they have theyre talking to a stranger before being like Whoops my bad! ...but then weeks later when the first guy (let's just say, chico - that' kinda what i'm imagining anyway) mistakenly texts miguel again bc he never deleted the contact info. and he's like totally shitfaced too so he just ends up calling miguel and being like HEY Come get me. I'm at xyz location!! … and that’s how they meet—because Miguel is moderately bored and curious and he thinks Chico will have drugs 😂 (maybe he’s mentioned it idk) (anyway he does have them) ...

dating app AU (cough hook up app) 💀 they chat/sext for a long time more as like friends for a while... idk, some people you just sort of end up befriending and having longer running fun conversations with / gossip about your other hook-ups on the app bc there's more to it in a way. they end up exchanging actual phone numbers and chatting bc they have a lot in common—even know the same clubs and know they don't live that far apart, but they just don't meet up right away. And then it gets kind of weird bc at a certain point, they're more lookng forward to meet up but then it's like damn, what if the spark isn't there in person 😵‍💫 what if they meet up, have sex, and then never text each other again or it all falls apart or something. And then something something, when they finally go Fuck It and decide to meet up and get it over with, they get completely sidetracked (just gotta do a minor job real quick! swing by a location!) in a Date Ends Up With Them Almost Getting Shot and Running For Their Lives type way. but good news: even though they bicker like hell in person, and each find the other vaguely infuriating, the spark is definitely there 👀

#text #answered ask #merelyafigment #chico guerra #miguel alvarez #oz au #oz hbo

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heyidkyay · 1 year ago

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I guess I’ll take this pain, instead of your name |

Epilogue

A/n: The finale. Heyyy, hope you all enjoyed the last update, I’m beyond grateful for all the love it got alongside the rest of this series, it means more than you’d realise. But I just had to indulge myself and write the epilogue too, made sense tbh and I really do love the way it went, there’s lot going on here and I feel like it was necessary to post! It’s just nearing 20k though so hopefully it’s enjoyable, there are a few different cut scenes, where we time jump, and one point where George gives us a little insight to the ongoings in his life, but overall it just shows the years after the end of 28. I loved writing this a whole lot but I am most thankful to @procrastinatinglikeapro for letting me annoy her with the emotions this brought up as well as giving me a place to bounce ideas around, so thank you, you lovely human:) Hopefully I can put you out of your misery now, and that the rest of you enjoy this last part? Thank you sm for reading! X

Summary: In life, things changed. The boys you'd once grown up with were men now, and famous ones at that. The type that toured the world and had millions of adoring fans.

The five of you shared a shit ton of history. But you also shared a lot of mixed emotions for one of them in particular, a certain drummer.

Masterlist

Epilogue -

Dealing with a shit hand in life, had both its downsides as well as its ups.

With all the crap, the dirt, the anger and the grief, there also came perspective.

As in, the more you’d been shafted with, the easier it was to deal with the more mundane things life had to throw at you. Like when the washing machine broke mid-cycle and flooded the kitchen floor in early December. Or missing the tube into work and being nearly twenty minutes late for an important client’s meeting.

Even the times when all of your best mates, who were in a band, get suited and booted for a singular night, and then that said band goes on to win a Brit Award- only, you’ve gone and missed it all because you were stuck somewhere in a line to use the loo.

Yeah.

I swanned back over to our table in the mid-section just after, grateful that I’d had the foresight to check for loo-roll on the bottom of one of my heels as well as grab another champagne flute on my way over.

Wasn’t one for the stuff, in truth. Literally anything else would’ve been better, but alcohol was alcohol and my anxiety always got the best of me at these kind of events.

Even though I’d known the boys longer than the band had been formed, I hadn’t actually been to that many. This was my first one in quite a few years.

A small frown had etched itself onto my face by the time I made it over to our little section, the table was now half empty and not one of the boys were in sight- and I even ducked down slightly to see if they were pratting about beneath it too! But no such luck.

“Where’s everybody?” I asked Carly quietly, who’d been grinning like the cat that’d caught the cream before she turned to blink up at me. My forehead furrowed even further as I placed my glass down on the table top and took the seat beside her. “You alright? Is there something on my face or summat? You’re looking at me funny.”

She actually had the fucking nerve to laugh at me then, the cow.

“Oi, tell me!” I urged, swatting at her upper arm lightly after just having dragged my chair in.

“Only you, I swear.” Carly retorted, giggling freely now before she jutted her chin outwards, up towards the main stage. “You missed it, babe! They’re all up there!”

It was my turn to blink then, the alcohol slowing my ability to think functionally, before it finally hit me. My head snapped up towards the front of the room, where, low and behold, stood my four idiots.

Shit, I really needed to slow down.

But that was just a passing thought before I threw myself back up and out of my seat to whoop loudly for them, seemingly having lost all sense of decorum- or whatever it was that these toffpots loved to go on about- my anxiety having been well and truly chucked out the window.

The boys all appeared to glance over at me then, and I heard Carly snort behind an extravagant centrepiece just below me when the four of them laughed. Matty, the honest to God twat who was stood holding the award over by the mic, smirked though too, and it was so shit-eating that I could easily see it from across the floor. Instantly I knew what was coming.

“Oh and would you look at that, the wonderful Birdie has returned!” Matty shouted out, eyes squinting with the extremity of his grin as he leant in closer over the podium, “Where you been then, B? Missed it, sweetheart! Ross reckoned you popped to the loo’s- pretty snazzy, ain’t they?”

“Felt like a queen!” I quipped right back, apparently unable to bite my tongue.

The lot of them seemed to appreciate it though, as did some of the room.

“Our poor Georgie was a little lost on the way up, babe! But don’t worry, G, we’re all sorted now.” Matty teased, winking over at the drummer stood to his right. George rolled his eyes, but his mouth was curled to one side in a way that couldn’t be helped. “For everyone who doesn’t know the lovely Birdie! She has been with us sorry lot since the very start.”

“Before it.” Ross cut in from behind him, which sent Matty’s head nodding.

“Yeah! Before it even!” He corrected himself and then pointed the tip of their Brit award towards me, “Don’t think we could’ve made it this far without her, in truth. Probably would’ve had a big massive blow up and never have spoken to each other again, knowing us. But she’s the glue that binds us. Always.”

My heart swelled in my chest so much it almost hurt to breathe, and I couldn’t even bring myself to care for the hundreds of people sat in this room, never mind watching it all unfold on the tele, I’d just never felt so appreciated, especially upon seeing the rest of the boys all nod solemnly in agreement. I wiped haphazardly at my cheeks.

“But, as I was trying to say, long before we were all so rudely interrupted!” Matty went on, earning a round of chuckles throughout the arena. “We are beyond privileged to be here at all, and to have been nominated three times, too. Well, I ‘spose it just shows that we’re doing something right.”

I forced myself to sit back down at that and let the four of them carry on with their thanks. It was so beyond strange to sit through though, I don’t think it had ever really hit me just how much they’d grown and seeing them up there was all the proof I needed.

I thought back to the band practices, to the gigs in shitty dive bars and pubs, to touring and seeing them play for thousands of beaming faces. It reminded me of Carly and Adam’s wedding, and the birth of the band’s first baby. Made me think of Ross’s face when he’d come over to Matty’s after his first proper date, how buzzed he’d been, the look in his eyes. All of it had me wishing for the simpler times strung out by the pool and on the school’s playing fields.

The years had seemed to pass us by so quickly.

I saw it in the wrinkled smile Hann gave Carly, the greying stands in Matty’s hair, and how G’s knees groaned whenever he sat down- though he’d never willingly admit it.

My family. They’d given me so much, filled many a hole in my war torn heart, but I don’t think they had any actual idea how deeply their presence was felt in me. And so as I stood once more to give another lungful of cheers alongside the rest of the audience, I vowed to make sure that they each knew just how loved they were and how proud they made me.

—

“Yeah, yup. Of course! No, we do do peonies this time of year. Yes, no need to worry it’ll all be taken care of.” I pressed the phone against my shoulder and ear so that I could grab a nearby pen and paper to write a few details down, then hummed watching on as Delia came out the back of the shop. “Okay, and is that all? No, no, thank you! So it’ll be delivered on the Thursday, is that alright? Yeah. Okay, okay. You’re most welcome! Alright, have a good rest of your day.” Then I finished off the call with a classic British goodbye that always seemed to go on a little too long.

Delia was smiling at me now as she placed a couple of empty pots by the counter, hair plaited down the length of her back and with a pair of reading glasses tangled in its top. “Another order?”

I hummed again with a happy smile at her ask, finishing off the address I’d just taken. “Yup! Big one too.”

“Oo, how lucky we are.” Delia retorted with a small chuckle and a pleased little smile of her own. It’d been a good week, lots of orders, which was promising after the past month we’d had. She glanced over to the clock on the far wall, then back to me, “You still skiving off early tonight?”

Skiving was hardly the term I’d use, but with a fond roll of my eyes, I nodded at her. “I am. That still okay?” Already knowing it was.

She tutted, waving me off. “You know it is. Just letting you know that he’ll be here any minute now.”

My eyes widened and I was quick to spin around to cast a glance at the time. “Shit.” I murmured to myself, listening to the faint laughter Delia gave as I undid my apron and hurried to tidy up what was left of my last bouquet.

“Leave it, love. I’ll be here another hour or so.”

I frowned, then shook my head, always one to clean up my own messes, but I was interrupted then by the shop door’s jingle. Both Delia and I looked up at the same time to find a familiar figure stepping through its archway, he wore his usual cheeky smile and had eyes that looked more alive than I’d seen in a long while.

Well, I hadn’t really seen him in a long while, he’d been away on tour with the guys for months now and I’d only gotten small glimpses of him through texts and calls, as well as the odd sporadic visit between us both when we were really feeling the distance.

“George.” I breathed out, recognising the tension I’d been feeling for weeks now finally fall from off my shoulders. I couldn’t bring myself to move though, to race on over and throw myself into him like they did on the tele- mostly because that just wasn’t our style. But I did grin, couldn’t have stopped the beam of it in all honesty, and watched him walk the length of the flower shop only to pause about a foot away with his hands tucked neatly behind his back.

“Heya, Birdie. Fancy seeing you here, ey? And still not ready too. Ain’t already regretting having agreed to let me move in, are you?”

He was teasing. His favourite pastime had always been teasing me. But his words still resonated and as much as I wished to reassure him that that was most definitely not the case, I was still me and if he wanted to be a twat, then I could be an even bigger one.

“Might be.” I sighed deliberately and slowly moved around behind the counter to hang my apron up on its original hook, before glancing over to where Delia still stood, wearing an amused smirk of her own. Far too used to our antics by now. “Just keep thinking about my lovely little flat being invaded by all your man-ness.”

“My man-ness?” George quizzed, withholding an obvious chuckle whilst he raised a questioning brow over the till at me.

I hummed, tutting lightly before I glanced back at my boss. “You know what I mean, don’t you, Deils? The boxers and socks thrown about everywhere, wet towels left on the bathroom floor, having to clear up after not just yourself but them as well.”

“Like having a dog.” Delia immediately agreed with a dip of her head, “Eat whatever you feed them and don’t give you a minute alone.”

I snorted whilst George just shook his head at both of us.

“Well, most dogs don’t leave and come back baring gifts.”

“Eh, you’d be surprised.” Delia countered but by then I was already intrigued.

“Gifts, you say?” I questioned him, pressing my hip into the counter to rest my chin against my fist.

“Hm,” George hummed in low confirmation, those eyes of his dancing back and forth between my own, “But you know, could always just head on over to Ross’s, sure he’d be fine with housing me for a couple nights…”

I rolled my eyes at the very thought, “As if! He’s probably glad to see the back of you for a while. I’ve heard stories about tour, G. Remember that.”

It was his turn to snort then. “Most likely. Delia, you wouldn’t happen to have a spare bed going for a poor bloke who’s been fed empty promises and chucked out on his arse, would you?”

Delia sighed and shook her head, although she was still sporting a fond smile. “The pair of you. I swear.” She let go of a soft chuckle before checking my hip and shooing me off, “Get on out of here, would you? Driving me up the wall already.”

“You love us really.” I shot back easily, but was all too happy to oblige, rounding the till to grab my coat and bag before acknowledging that I was now standing a foot away from him once again. It’d been far too long. “Hey.” I said sheepishly.

George rolled his eyes at my awkwardness and made a grab for my hand, pulling me in close and pressing a kiss to my forehead before he slunk his arm around my waist. I let myself fall further into his embrace, taking in his familiar build, the aftershave he adored, the tightness of his hold.

“You ready to go?” He asked me gently and I dipped my head to hide the warmth of my smile, fingers finding a belt loop on his jeans.

“You sure you’re alright with me leaving early?” I said once more to Delia, hating having to leave her in the shop on her own.

“Yes! I’ve only told you about thirty times already, lovely. I’ll be more than fine.” The older woman immediately shot back, palms splayed on the countertop whilst she shook her head at me for umpteenth time today. “I think you forget I’ve been running this shop for well over a decade now, and I’ve been doing alright.”

My cheeks burned a tad at her words, but I just couldn’t seem to help it, once you were one of my people you were in for life. And I took care of the ones I held close. “Sorry, Deils. I know I’m being exhausting, I just-”

“Care.” Both her and George said simultaneously.

And I glared meekly at the pair then huffed, “Well.”

George chuckled beside me, the sound vibrating against the skin of my cheek, and could only seem to pull me impossibly closer, “Too much, sometimes.”

I threw my free hand up in the air with a light laugh, “Right. Sorry I’m overly considerate! But there are worst things you could be, you know. Like rude? Reckon the pair of you would know a thing or two about that.”

“Oh, gerroff it.” Delia laughed delightedly, tutting at me. George seemed content to just continue on grinning. “Go on, get out of here before I chuck you out.”

“You heard the lady, B. Don’t wanna overstay our welcome.” George added as he begun to usher us towards the door, but I saw the sweet smile he flashed the woman before the bell chimed once more. “Lovely seeing you again, Delia.”

“You too, be sure to pop back in before you head off on the road again.”

He laughed but assured her with a promising nod, “Will do.”

—

“That’ll be six fifty, sweetheart.”

I smiled and handed it over, pulling the cocktail I’d ordered across the bar whilst I scoped the place.

It had been just a typical Tuesday night for me, I’d been in joggers, bra long gone, and curled up in front of the tele, but then George had phoned, spouting this and that about the album, telling me to meet the lot of them at a club down in Canning Town.

I had no idea whether they’d started, finished, or just scrapped the whole thing, but it’d been doing everyone’s head in for months now, and for G to just call up and send a cab to fetch me out of the blue had me intrigued, so obviously I’d gone.

Only, they had yet to arrive. Fucking London. I swear as much as I loved it most days, you could hardly move an inch without it feeling like the entire city was shifting with you. Our flat was a lot further than the studio, but tonight the roads were crammed pack with traffic that had managed to work its way onto the A12, so I already knew that they’d be a little behind. I was merely thankful I’d had the foresight to skip the cab ride and just jump the tube.

A graze to my left arm then pulled me from my thoughts though and I glanced over to find a fella stood crowding the bar beside me, he was tall, blond, and although he appeared to be waiting on the bartender he was also a little too close for that to be his only intent. But me being me, I simply shuffled over a tad to give him some room and continued to sip at my drink, eyes still trained on the club’s entrance.

“Sorry about that. Didn’t mean to crowd you.” I heard the bloke say from beside me and his hand brushed my elbow as he took a polite step away.

“You’re alright.” I waved off, not really paying him much mind now that the bartender had worked his way back over to take this side’s order.

It was nearing almost eleven now and so I popped my phone out of my purse to see if G had sent me an update. He had, almost ten minutes ago in fact, but apparently I hadn’t heard it over the noise.

G: Stuck in traffic Won’t be long though x

I smiled and shot him a quick text back, saying I’d have a large talisker waiting for him.

It was only when I’d flicked it back off, not bothering with whatever else had popped up, that the guy caught my attention again. He’d already cheersed the bartender for his drink, coloured something ruddy, and then granted me a small smile when our sights crossed.

“I love the watch.” He said to me, dark eyes shooting downward to the antique that adorned my wrist.

Caught mostly by surprise, I found myself looking down at it too. It wasn’t much of a statement piece, dainty if anything and odd in its design due to the age, but it held a lot of sentimental value and was something I rarely ever parted with. Hardly anyone passed comment on it though.

“Oh, thanks.” I replied, drink already back on the bar before I allowed my thumb to graze across it’s glass face briefly. “It was a gift.”

The man hummed around a swirl of his drink, “Looks rather old, got to be at least sixty now?”

I grinned and my surprise stuck with me, he was almost on the mark there. “Around about, it was given as a present to my grandparents on their wedding day. One of their friends gave them one each.”

That answer warranted a little shock of its own, I supposed. If you knew what to look for you’d see that the watch was a Hans Wilsdorf design from the mid forties and the one my grandad had worn completed a matching set. To say that they’d both been given as a gift, especially way back then, was amazing, but even more so seeing that both my grandparents had been working class.

“Can I?” He questioned and dipped his head down at it, asking for a closer look.

He appeared to know a little about watches from what I’d grasped, or at least had a fondness for them, and seeing as it wasn’t the strangest thing to ever happen to me in a club, I held out my arm to let him.

“It’s beautiful, well looked after.” He complimented sincerely with careful eye, “May I?” I frowned at his question, unsure on what he’d meant, but nodded once and was only slightly surprised when he took a gentle hold of my wrist to turn it over and glance at the clasp. “Even the engravings have kept.”

I smiled when he allowed me my hand back, glancing down at the watch again, the dim lights over the bar glinted across the metal. “It’s even got a small inscription on the back too.” I felt inclined to add, the chiseled words having stuck with me ever since I’d first seen them.

The stranger smiled along with me, as though he understood the emotions my revelation held. “Do they have a story?” He wondered, before adding, “The friend behind the gift.”

It wasn’t a well kept secret, the background of my grandad, the friends he’d kept, the men he’d known. But it wasn’t one I’d heard very much of until the visits I’d taken to my Nana’s long after he had died and I’d left home.

“You could say that.” I chuckled and let my arm relax in my lap once more, “He was a… business man, of sorts. Had known my grandad since they were boys, grew up together.”

“A business man?” The man lifted an elegant brow, mouth following.

“Of sorts.” I reminded with a smirk.

“Oh, like that I see.” He smiled charmingly in retort, “Lots of business men mulling about in the fifties and sixties. Any big names I might know?”

I snorted softly, glad he’d caught on so quickly. “Probably. But I’m no snitch, so you’ll be hearing none.”

He narrowed a pair of dark eyes at me in a manner of teasing at that, and on any other girl they might’ve worked, might’ve even disarmed them. But, I was already happy, happier than I’d ever planned on being actually. “And here I was, thinking we were becoming fast friends.”

With a light laugh, I picked up my drink. “I have enough friends.”

“Oh, that hurts, darling.” The man instantly quipped back, raising a ring clad hand to cover his chest faintly. Yeah, he was definitely playing a game here, but just as I’d been about to affirm the fact that I wasn’t and also had a boyfriend, he spoke up again, “Go on, at least let me know the message engraved on the back.”

I peered over at him for a moment and he only quirked his brow in turn, I put my glass back down on the counter to unhook the first clasp on the watch, not enough for it to slip off (I wasn’t a fucking idiot) but so much so that I could flip the face on its front. And there, in a curved font, was written ‘Family has a way of being found amongst friends’.

“Wow.” The man murmured and I hummed softly in agreement, our heads bowed closely to read the inscription together in the dim lights. “Very wise words.”

I glanced up and smiled at him, ready to reply before a hand snaked its way around my waist. My head shot up at the touch and was greeted with the many faces of the band, but most importantly, George.

“You made it!” I beamed at them all, already shuffling over a bit to make room for the boys. Ross was already leaning against the bar though, ordering in a round, Hann seemed to follow his lead after gifting me an strained smile, which was confusing in itself, until I saw Matty’s shit-eating grin and felt George’s hand grow firmer on my hip.

“We did! Seems like you barely noticed though, love. Havin’ fun tonight, are we?” Matty baited, he was almost singing and his expression was nothing short of gleeful. He reached between me and the bloke I’d been speaking to to grab at my drink. “Cheers, B.” He added, raising the glass to his lips and downing what remained of it.

I rolled my eyes, albeit fondly. “You can buy me another now, Healy.”

Matty hissed theatrically through his teeth as though he was weighing on the thought, “Dunno about that one, sweetheart. Seems as though you’ve got bigger shit to worry about here.”

I pursed my lips in confusion just as the curly haired singer slid from view and then glanced up at George, who stood towering beside me. I poked at his side, “Not gonna even say hello? Been waiting ages for you lot.”

George glanced down at me at that and seemed to take a deep breath before he finally smiled, leaning in to press a kiss to my hair, “Hello, Birdie. Been behaving?”

My forehead pinched at his words, but when I looked up I saw the darkened haze his eyes held and felt my breath hitch. I wasn’t sure if it was down to the lighting in the club or something other, but whatever it was it had my emotions warring.

George turned away before I could mutter a single sound. “Sorry, mate. Don’t think I caught your name.”

It hit me then.

G was jealous. And oh, how lovely that thought was.

I was quick to dim the smirk that toyed with my lips upon the realisation and pulled a little bit away from his hold to offer the stranger I’d been sat with a truly apologetic smile, “Oh God, yeah, I didn’t either!”

The man’s stare darted between the pair of us before it landed back on me, he masked his confusion well and said, “Tom.” Then stuck a hand out to properly introduce himself, but before I could even think to take it, George beat me to it.

I blinked.

“George. Not to be rude though, mate. But she’s already taken, so if you don’t mind?”

Startled by his harsh comment and the jerk of George’s head, I blanched and was hasty to reassure the man sat at the bar, “Don’t mind him.” Then turned to my suddenly temperamental boyfriend, “G, we were just talking about my watch. What’s up with you?”

He raised a single brow in retort but didn’t let up on the continuous stare he had on the stranger. Tom, who looked extremely fucking uncomfortable, merely held up a hand. “Didn’t mean to overstep.” He declared before he set his sights back on me, “Sorry if I made you uncomfortable in any way. But it really was a pleasure meeting you, hope you enjoy the rest of your night.”

I fish-mouthed slightly but nodded, “Yeah, sorry. You too.”

The man granted the pair of us a tiny smile and then let himself get swept up in the club’s crowd. I immediately spun around to face George.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!”

He had the cheek to reel back from my hissed words, acting as though I was the one being outrageous here. “Me? I didn’t do anything!”

“You were so rude!” I countered and felt his hand slip a tad from its place on my hip, “We were just talking!”

“He was chatting you up!” He immediately argued, “Anyone could see that from a mile off!”

“He was interested in my watch! And even if he was trying to chat me up, don’t you trust me enough to know when to draw the line?” I sniped back, all the earlier amusement I’d felt drained from my body.

The skin between his brows pinched as he blinked and the palm placed on the small of my back splayed a little further, his voice softened, “Of course I fucking do, Birdie. Doesn’t mean I like watching people like him fawn all over you.”

“G,” I sighed, “We really were just talking.”

He dragged a roughened hand across his face before it dropped completely to his side and saw the imploring look he then wore, “Do you know how it felt, to walk in and spot you and him knocking heads, so lost in the moment that you didn’t even hear me call out your name?”

No, I didn’t.

Slowly I raised both my arms up to tug on the lapels of the blazer he’d thrown on, glancing up at him with a sincere smile. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realise. I can see what it might’ve looked like from an outside perspective. But I’d never do that to you, George.”

The tension in his shoulders seemed to loosen at my words, they were no longer hunched up by the lobes of his ears and instead settled where they were supposed to be.

“I know.” He whispered quietly, but even over all the club’s noise I heard him. The hand on my back pushed against me to bring me closer to his chest and I went, smiling at the gentle touch of the fingers that grasped my chin. “I know.”

I appreciated the reassurance.

“And I wasn’t lost in the moment with him, just so you know. More in the story behind the watch.” I added, releasing the hold on his jacket so that my hand could wrap around his wrist, feeling the beat of his pulse there. A familiar rhythm.

George glanced down at the watch Nana had gifted me all those years ago and then towards the matching face sat on his own arm. A pair reunited.

He knew. He knew the stories, all the tales. He knew the love and the loss. He knew how much I missed her. How much I longed to see her one more time. And in return, I knew he felt very much the same. Nana had taken George in as one of her own before any of us had even realised, called him up more than me some weeks, and in the lead up to her death she’d wanted to see him, to gift him her husband’s watch. He’d sobbed when she’d died and had given quite the speech at her funeral. I knew he understood.

“I love you.” I told him simply, kissing the thumb that had come to rest on my bottom lip, his eyes trained on mine.

“And I love you. I’m sorry for being a dick.” He comforted me. I hummed with a foolishly fond smile.

“Good, then you can bully Matty into getting me that drink.” And with that said, I let him go, watching as he rolled his eyes at the order before wandering a few feet away to where Matty was sprawling himself across the bar to get a better look at the champagne bottles they had to offer. I guess we were celebrating then.

Too lost in watching George corral his best mate from off the counter, I jumped a tad when Ross sidled up beside me, a fruity cocktail in hand.

“What is it with you and handsome strangers then?” He asked me casually and I snorted out an unexpected laugh.

“Dunno really. Why, you jealous?”

Ross wiggled his brows at me, “Wouldn’t that put a spin on the evening.”

The two of us shared a conspiratorial grin and he finally told me why the hell I’d been dragged out of my flat tonight.

—

“Vegas, ba-by!”

“Whoo!”

“VEGAS! VEGAS! VEGAS!”

“Alright, you lot.” George laughed from the backseat of the limousine Matty had rented out for the night- a bit over the top in my opinion, but when in Las Vegas, right? “Calm it down, will you? Only just got here.”

“Oh piss off, George!”

“Should I take my top off?”

“Yeah, fuck off, grandad!”

“I feel like I should take my top off.”

“Shit, is that Elvis?”

“I’m gonna take my top off!”

“Oi!” George’s arms wrapped around my middle and pulled me back down from the sunroof before I could, and I landed in his lap with an oof sound. “None of that, please.”

Hann snorted in the lounger across from us, a bottle of Smirnoff clutched in his right hand as he poured another shot, but was caught off guard by the shirt that came sailing at his face. It was then that Matty’s head popped back into view.

“No worries, B. Ross took his top off in your stead.”

George snorted, Hann sighed, and I jumped back up to join in on the fun.

“G, hold this, would you?” I said, top already balled up in my hand and cleavage to the wind whilst I grinned widely at all the lights that Sin City had to offer me.

…

We all ended up on the strip soon enough, limo long gone and the five of us marvelling at all it had to offer. We only had a night to pack full to the brim with stupid choices and a shit ton of money, because tomorrow we were set to head back on the road, headed off to a festival not too far for the band’s next show.

“Where to first then?” Hann asked everyone.

“Caesars Palace!” The boys all chorused, but me, I had my mind set on other things. “Magic Mike.”

Matty looked over at me for a short moment whilst the rest of the guys simply raised their brows. “Yeah, alright then.” He agreed all too easily enough and that was it. “Magic Mike here we come!” Matty declared loudly before setting off, “Ross, mate, don’t get hard and embarrass us, alright?”

Ross’s bewildered squark was lost in the crowd of people we got swept up in as well as our obnoxious laughter.

…

It seemed that Magic Mike had been an experience and a half, and not just for me either. Matty left the show with a Cheshire sized grin, both Hann and G looked pink in the cheeks, and Ross… Ross was flushed and sporting glassy eyes. I’d been pretty chuffed with their reactions all in all, especially when one of the dancers had tried to drag George of all people up onto the stage. He’d refused adamantly, mind, probably too fearful of the fan’s reactions, but the woman beside us- well into her sixties and sporting a cane- had been all too happy to offer herself up instead.

We’d wandered off to the casinos after that, but instead of heading straight towards the first table we saw or scoping out the machines, we all seemingly decided on shoving as much alcohol as we could possibly procure down our throats. To say that the aim of the night wasn’t getting sloshed beyond repair would be an utter lie. But this was Vegas and I would not stand to have it any other way.

Saying that though, with all the alcohol a lot of the night seemed to blur, sort of merge into one, the strip lights started to look like rainbows, the cars that passed appeared more Pac-Man like than anything else, and bad ideas seemed like the smartest thing we could do.

Which is how George and I managed to evade the rest of the band in one of the local bars and escape to where we were currently stood, outside of a tiny chapel a street away from an In-and-Out. Classy. But I’d take it.

“You sure about this?”

“Are you? It was your idea!”

“With you? Always.”

We both seemed to giggle at that.

“I could really go for a burger, you know.”

“B, aren’t you like a plant person?”

I snorted. “Vegetarian, you mean?”

“Hm, same thing, in’t it? Don’t think birds actually eat burgers though.”

Birds. “Well for one, I’m not an actual bird. And b, have you ever seen a seagull?”

“Shit, yeah. You’re right.” A thoughtful pause. “Think I want a burger too.”

“Alright, after this then?”

“Yeah, alright.” He grabbed my hand a little tighter at that and I looked over to find him grinning like a loon. “After this.”

…

I startled awake to loud incessant knocking and immediately groaned into my pillow at the pitiful pounding it kickstarted in my head. I’d never felt so worn and sluggish, and a hellish fury rose within me at the startle, but seeing as the knock-ee couldn’t see through walls, I supposed they still had no idea that they were currently the cause of World War III.

Somewhere to the right of me, George seemed to wake also, grunting at the onslaught of noise and huffing loudly, “Fuck off!”

I winced at the jarring sound of his voice, and it appeared he did too, but was grateful when the banging finally stopped. Only it wasn’t for long because as soon as it did, it started up again and was joined by Matty’s head-splittings shouts.

“Open! This! Fucking! Door!”

He was relentless and somewhere, in the very depths of my mind, I found it odd how he wasn’t in his or someone else’s hotel room nursing a violent hangover of his own.

“Now! Open this door right fucking now!”

It stopped again for a moment, catching me enough by surprise that I dug myself out from under a plethora of sheets. Then let my eyes slip close again in annoyance when a second voice sounded alongside Matty’s own.

“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to either calm down or leave.” Came the muffled order, “We’ve had multiple complaints in the last five minutes alone.”

“Calm down? Calm down! Mate, I don’t think you have any right to ask that of me right now! I’m freaking the fuck out here. I’m beyond fucking pissed! YOU HEAR ME?” He seemed to shout louder then, obviously aiming that last bit at us. George huffed beside me but thankfully made to move. “FUCKING FUMING! I MEAN, WHAT KIND OF PEOPLE- FRIENDS, EVEN! DO THAT TO A-”

The tyrant roaring cut off then and I peered across the room to watch as George ripped the hotel door open and tugged Matty into the suite by his elbow, all whilst wearing nothing but a thin sheet.

“Will you shut up, you mouthy twat?” He muttered, levelling Matty with a glare nothing short of hellish, though was only met with a childish scowl in turn, before he looked back at the bellhop, a well groomed man with sleek black hair and a thin lipped smile. I groaned internally. “Look sorry, mate. He’s had a rough night, we’ll make sure to keep the noise down from now on.”

“Rough night?” Matty snarled with an undisguised snort- whatever had him this riled up was sure to have been big. But George gave him another look of disdain, apparently not all that pleased to have been so rudely awoken and forced to deal with his bullshit, and he relented to a scowl. I kept myself hidden beneath the covers.

“It won’t happen again.” George quietly assured the hotel worker and sighed heavily once the man had given him a curt nod and the door had shut. “What the actual fuck is wrong with you?” He immediately asked, rounding on the curly haired idiot now stood in our room, before taking a deep breath and stalking his way back across the floor, dragging the sheet with him. I attempted to sit up.

“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you! I can’t fuckin’ believe you two!”

With a frown that was more of a pained grimace, I grabbed a random shirt from off the floor beside the bed and tugged it on- it was George’s, but thankfully it’d been the one he’d chucked off before we’d headed out last night.

Thinking back to last night though, I rubbed at my bleary eyes and tried to recollect the events that had happened after the fishbowls we’d devoured at a themed bar I could not for the life of me remember the name of. But they just wouldn’t come.

“What’s wrong, Matty?” I questioned, my voice all gravelly, and I faintly recalled then having screamed quite a bit- in all sorts of situations. My cheeks flushed at the vague memories that swam towards the forefront of my mind.

“What do you mean, what’s wrong? B, how fucking could you!” Matty quipped straight back, looking just as grim as I felt, his hair in disarray, still in last nights clothes, and stinking up a storm.

“Matt. I need you to slow down, my head’s fucked enough as it is and you’re not helping.” I told him, scrunching my face up as a sudden wave of nausea rocked through me.

“Exactly.” George grunted out and I looked over to see him forcing up a pair of boxers, beyond the point of caring if he had an audience or not.

Matty glared between the pair of us, but then George sighed and sat himself back down on the bed, and Matty’s narrowed eyes seemed to soften. “You honestly have no clue what I’m on about, do you?”

I rubbed at my temples, “No idea.”

“Hm.” George muttered in a huffed agreement and swiped a hand across his face before he stilled in his entirety.

“What?” I said, confused by the way he’d gone so stock-still, “If you’re gonna chuck up there’s a bin right there.” I added just in case, gesturing halfheartedly over towards the cluttered desk not too far from the bed.

George didn’t seem to hear me though, instead just turned very carefully and very slowly in his seat to look over at me.

“What?” I asked him again, this time a little more frenzied, throwing my hands down onto the duvet that covered my lower half in a huff. My patience had already been worn thin, and he really wasn’t making things much better.

George’s gaze seemed to follow my hands though, before his head instantly snapped back up in Matty’s direction like a rubber band that’d been cut.

“Oh shit.”

Matty rolled his eyes. “Yeah, oh shit.”

“What? What’s goin- Oh, shit.”

My eyes caught on the glinting stone stationed on my left hand and my breath caught, all thoughts fleeing as my lungs refused to function any further than that. Oh shit indeed.

“I- What does that even mean?” My gaze darted from Matty’s bewildered face to George’s shellshocked expression and then to the man’s matching hand. “Christ. What did we do?”

I was really freaking the fuck out now and wondered briefly if this was all just an alcohol induced dream, if I’d had one too many shots, or stumbled too hard and ended up face first in a fountain.

But then the door to our hotel room shot open and in swanned Ross looking like Camilla on Coronation day, as well as Adam who was scrolling frantically through his phone.

Ross seemed to have hardly been affected by any of last night’s antics, still looking as lovely as ever, and was unwelcomely singing a familiar Billy Idol tune as the two of them wandered in further. “Hey little sister, what have you done? Hey little sister, who's the only one?”

I chucked the nearest thing I had to me at his giant head, which ended up being a small red box, but he merely caught it in midair and grinned. “It's a nice day to start again. It's a nice day for a-” He carried on with his wind-up, peering down at the box passingly before his eyebrows shot up to a scary degree. He whistled lowly, cutting himself completely off, then let his wide eyes glance over to George and I. “White wedding.”

Those last two words had the entire room falling silent. The hotel even, hell, maybe the entire fucking planet! I could barely hear anything above the beating of my own heart that had started banging like a metal drum in my ears.

Belatedly, I forced myself to try and gauge George’s reaction to this whole thing but my boyfriend- oh God, my fiancé now? Husband?!- appeared to already be staring right back at me. His expression gave nothing away except for the apparent shock swimming in his eyes. I wondered if I mirrored it exactly.

Matty, who’d been silent ever since the revelation had hit the two of us, now seemed to jump start and cautiously he made his way over to my side of the bed, precariously taking perch in front of me before he then took my hand- the one without the life-altering reminder, thankfully. Small mercies.

“B? You okay?”

My mouth was dropped open in utter shock but slowly I turned my head to stare up at my best friend, the boy who’d been with me through everything. Everything but this it seemed.

“Hey, love. You’re alright. Just a big shock to the system, yeah? You’re alright.”

His quiet reassurances didn’t do much, but they helped ebb the fizzing thoughts my mind didn’t have the capability to process a bit. I forced myself to inhale, to take a breath, but it must’ve seemed rather abrupt to Matty who hastily drew himself closer to place a hand on the back of my neck.

“Just breathe. I’ve got you. Breathe. You’re alright.”

I started nodding, I think. Attempted to absorb the information whilst I breathed in and out, breathing like Matty told me to. Another set of hands found me soon enough. Mindlessly I acknowledged the dip in the bed beside me, as well as the careful fingers that threaded themselves through my hair, and then the loving thumb which trailed sweetly down the length of my forearm.

“You feeling any better?” Someone asked a little while later, and I nodded slowly, forcing my head back up and my eyes open once I no longer felt like the room was caving in on me.

“Yeah, sorry.”

“Don’t apologise, love. Nothing to be sorry for.” The voice assured me, it was George, I realised.

“Feel like a twat. For reacting like that I mean. I didn’t, I mean, it’s not like I wouldn’t want to-” I could barely bring myself to say it, but George seemed to understand me nevertheless.

We’d spoken about it before, of course. But not since we’d gotten back together and only ever when we’d been kids, way back before the band had taken off, before life had chewed us up and spat us back out.

I’d never been gone on the idea, marriage was a big deal, scary in a sense. Seeing what it had done to my parents, to my mum after losing my dad, I never wanted to end up like that. Too terrified to be alone and too desperate to fill that void with anything and anyone. My skin itched even now at the very thought.

But I was also old enough to realise that whether George and I were… married or not, I’d still be just as destroyed if I lost him.

George had vaguely agreed with me back then, though I do remember one night, at Nana’s the summer after our first visit there, where he’d said something different. We’d been curled up on the guest bed, wine drunk and happy, he’d held me close, half naked with our arms and legs entangled, he’d whispered and I’d barely even heard him, slipping tiredly into sleep. But he’d said it and I’d remembered, even after all these years.

“If I ever did get married, it’d have to be to you. I mean, you’re an anomaly, Birdie. You’d make sure it worked out, that everything would be okay. Reckon then, it’d all be fine.”

I recalled myself smiling sleepily at his words but unable to truly believe them.

George loved me and I loved him. And that was all that mattered, right?

Nothing could change that. It hadn’t then, and it wouldn’t now. I knew that.

“Wait, how did you lot even find out?” I forced myself to ask the rest of the room, chest still aching from the panic I’d put my body through, thoughts starting to numb the headache of my hangover. I glanced between the rest of the boys, but my sights settled on Matty seeing as though he’d been the first one to barge in. “Well?” I prompted.

Matty scratched at the back of his head and I watched his mouth quirk up into something that resembled a smile, only it was anxious and strained. Didn’t reach his cheeks, let alone his eyes.

“Twitter.” Hann answered for the three of them, already handing his phone over.

George wrapped an arm around my hips and shuffled closer to view the screen, whilst I had the pleasure of scrolling aimlessly through a feed of fan reactions and news outlets. The panic that was still there came back in full force but I wouldn’t let it overwhelm me like I had before, instead opting to swallow it all down and continue on.

“How did they even find out?” George questioned with a strange pitch to his voice upon seeing multiple pictures of the two of us loving it up outside the chapel we’d obviously chosen, as well as us eating by a window at a nearby In-and-Out Burger it seemed. Fucking hell, was all I could think.

Ross tossed the box I’d thrown at him earlier towards George and we both glanced down at it. It hadn’t just been an ordinary box and I could see that now, what with the sleek embossed logo for a Las Vegas jewellers sat proudly on the top.

“Couple of people saw you inside the shop, called the paps. Things started to add up when they caught sight of you at that chapel, I ‘spose.” The bearded giant told us and I felt the lump in my throat start to grow.

I’d been pictured with the band and George before, on tour mostly, but sometimes at events and such, but rarely ever papped in public. Not like this at least.

I let my head drop onto George’s shoulder and wielded my eyes tightly shut, I wanted to scream or cry, but I didn’t know whether it was in joy or utter fear.

Then I felt a soft pair of lips come to rest against my head and I moved slightly to wrap my arms around George’s middle, wincing when I realised I hadn’t even asked him how he was feeling.

“How are you taking all this? I didn’t even ask, I’m sorry.” I murmured into the curve of his arm, but he only seemed to press his face deeper into my hair.

“Look, we’d best give you some space, yeah?” I heard Adam start to say, voice echoing in the quiet room. “Let you get some clothes on and sort your heads out.”

“Yeah.” Matty breathed out in agreement and the bed shifted as he removed his weight from it, his hand squeezing my shoulder just the once.

“Maybe text us when you feel like talking, we can grab some food and bring it back up.” Ross suggested and I felt George nod above me, and together we sat there listening to footsteps pad their way out of the room. Leaving us alone again.

—

So after that whole scandal, England’s very own Ross and Rachel eventually had to make their way back home. And yes, Ross and Rachel because let’s be honest here, if George and I were anyone amongst the Friends cast then we’d of course be those two. And I don’t know, Matty could probably play at being a good Phoebe, then Ross and Hann would end up as Joey and Chandler- work it out between yourselves on who’s who there. And I suppose that would leave the lovely Carly as our very own Monica. Only, this is all happening before season four, of course, and Carly is already back home waiting for her husband to touchdown.

So maybe not. I don’t know! My mind was still in a right state after everything that had gone down in Vegas, and I’d hardly been able to process most of it due to tour and the festival, and the onslaught of fans and paps, as well as people back home. Denise had not been happy to find out the way she had, let’s just make that one thing known.

And then there’d been George’s parents.

Sighing quietly, I placed a hand over George’s own to still the nervous tapping that seemed constant nowadays and watched as he stilled for a moment, turning in his airplane seat to glance over at me.

I allowed my body to mimic his movements, only pulling my leg up to press against the arm of the chair and resting my head to the side. I smiled softly at him, more than a little glad that we’d made the decision to take separate flights from the rest of the boys in attempt to throw off the media.

“Do you want to talk about it?” I asked, letting him take my hand in his and not saying a word when he toyed with the silver band that had yet to leave my ring finger.

George shrugged a shoulder, gaze caught on the pretty stone. “I haven’t a clue what I’ll say, is all.”

I licked my lip in thought, still watching him closely. The plane back home probably wasn’t the best place to talk about this, but we’d hardly had a minute alone since Vegas, what with the tour and the guys and everybody else. And besides, if there were any privileges to take full use of when dating a musician you’d drunkenly married then it would most definitely be First Class seats. Everyone else around us was either dead to the world or wearing headphones. We were safe enough here.

“Did you answer yet? Or, are even you going to?”

He drew in a large enough breath before he answered me, but that seemed to be answer enough.

“I haven’t yet and I don’t know. I- They’ve called quite a bit, but mum left a voicemail the day after and later on dad sent a text.” He revealed and I tried to reign back my surprise, though it made sense now to how little he’d wanted his phone near him the past few days, even when he’d been casting it longing glances from across the length of the tour bus.

I swallowed. “Have you listened to it?”

He dipped his head in a nod but didn’t meet my eye, attention still so focused on the hand he held.

“Right… and have you read your dad’s message?” Another nod. This was so hard, I’d honest to God been dreading their reactions so I had no idea just how George was taking it all. I desperately wanted to just tug him in and never let him go again, hope that if he stayed wrapped up in a hug that the world would just leave him be. “Did,” I took a small breath to gather myself, “Did they react like you expected?” Badly, it could only mean badly.

I heard him let out a small and tired chuckle, “Mum did. Dad…”

Okay, so there was hope. There was still hope.

“I listened to the voicemail first, it was,” George inhaled sharply and I took note of the deep furrow between his brows, the way his touch softened on my hand, circling the ring. “It was a lot. I expected it though. The shame she felt I brought, getting married like that, looking the way we did, drunk and stupid. Her words, not mine. Said she wouldn’t be surprised if I was high out of my mind too, or if it was all just fake in an attempt to spurn her some more and get attention.”

Talk about being full of yourself. But I kept that thought to myself, I was angry yes, fuming even, but it was George’s call on how we handled this, because we would, together.

He sighed again, but finally looked back up at me. “She said a lot of other shit I can’t be arsed to think about anymore. But just know that I know that none of it’s true. Hurtful, yeah. Of course. But true?” He shook his head, “Nah.” He exhaled, “And I know we haven’t really,”

“Spoken about it?” I finished for him and he smiled, this tiny but fond thing that sent my heart stuttering.

“Yeah. But no matter what happens, this,” He tugged my palm up to his chest and held it between his hand and his heart, “This is the greatest thing I’ll ever accomplish.”

My eyes instantly prickled at that, just as my breath was knocked from deep within me. I had to fight to swallow and felt my hand clutch the cloth of his shirt.

“Me too.”

George grinned, a complete 180 to the tender smile he’d been wearing, but still so gut-wrenching. Only, in the very best way.

“Good.” He whispered to me, tens of thousands of feet up in the air, and lifted our joined hands to press a kiss to my skin. “Good.”

“So this is it? It’s sticking?” I asked him, hope already so high that I was sure it would shatter if he wasn’t there already holding his arms out towards me.

He chuckled at my words and leant in close, fingers toying with my ring. “It’s sticking.”

My breath hitched and I found that I was grinning too, almost madly. Eyes trained on his whiskey brown, the very same I’d been staring into for well over a decade now. And still, they mesmerised me like no other.

“Good.” I whispered and finally closed the gap between us.

—

Life after getting hitched was, almost boring in a way? Things continued on as they always did, G in the studio and me at the flower shop. Our friends had gotten over the fact that we’d eloped on a whim- namely Matty, although he was still a little bitchy about it at times. And Denise had thrown us the loveliest party when we’d gotten back to the UK (not that anything could’ve stopped her, not even an apocalypse it would seem).

The party had been a small affair with just the people we held nearest and dearest, and although it’d been to celebrate the two of us and our commitment to one another, it had also been a great excuse to see everyone we hadn’t seen in ages again, even if we did end up apologising to them every five minutes. George’s dad even ventured down to join in on the festivities, which was the biggest but best surprise yet. The two of them were now working hard on rekindling their relationship with the absence of his mother.

It was just the media that had yet to die down in truth, so we were forced to get used to seeing our ugly mugs plastered everywhere, online and on magazine shelves. Fans of the band were a little intrigued by the idea of George having someone permanent too, even if I had already been around for ages. But Matty had mentioned to me previously when I’d brought it up one evening, that only the older lot really knew of me, from gigs and old photos, hardly anyone knew that G and I had been together since we were kids, let alone having been in a relationship for a little over two years now. It was strange but I left it be.

It was summer again, finally, and everyone was currently taking up residence in Hann’s back garden. See, Carly had wanted to throw a bit of a get-together, have a barbecue now that the sun was back out and everyone was in London again, or at the very least England (cough, cough, Matty).

Hann had been unable to say no, typical for the two of them, and had started sending out invites via text as soon as.

I was surprised I’d actually made it, in all honesty. Not that I’d had other plans or simply didn’t want to be there- there was no place on Earth I’d rather be than with this useless lot- but all week I’d been feeling like shit. But I’d been a bit under the weather for a short while now, on and off really, though I’d yet to go and see anyone about it. Ever since the crash and all that crap a couple years back, I’d really struggled with hospitals and doctors, hated the thought of them, even phoning up for G had me feeling queasy.

This morning I’d felt beyond nauseous and more than a little crap when I’d woken up, but George had made breakfast after having popped out to the shops and had come back with a bouquet, as well as a hello from Delia, which had put me in much better spirits. So I’d gotten ready and forced myself into the car and had been quite thankful for doing so up until now.

We were all gathered out in the garden, the sun was shining bright, the grill was alight, drinks were being passed round, and me, I was absolutely fucking miserable. I was far too hot, even in my pretty sundress, feeling flustered beyond belief at the onslaught of emotions that kept on hitting me, and then to top it all off my stomach had been acting up since I’d sat down and caught a whiff of the onions on the grill.

I pressed a palm to the base of my neck as I struggled to keep my cool, breathing steadily whilst hardly paying attention to the chatter of the girls sat around me. It was the usual group of us, some of which I hadn’t seen for a good couple months, but I could not bring my body to simply just focus or stop irritating me in its entirety.

It was just as Matty swanned over, an arm flung round Waughy’s waist as the two of them talked, that I couldn’t stay sat there anymore. I was quick to flash the pair of them a welcoming grin but excused myself to make my way back inside.

“You okay?”

I glanced up at the voice, beyond grateful to have escaped the sun, and caught sight of Carly messing with some extra picky bits on the counter, salad and whatnot.

I forced another smile and nodded, “Yeah, just wanted to nip to the loo.”

Carly copied the sentiment, though gifted me a bottle of water that she had on hand before I could dash off, “Take that, you’re looking a little flushed, babe. Might help with the heat.”

My smile was more genuine this time around as I took her up on the offer, enjoying the crisp chill that lined the outside of the bottle. “Thanks. And yeah, reckon I’ll just sit in the shade for a bit.”

Carly went to say something else then but was thankfully pulled away by the toddler that came shuffling through the backdoor. I took the opportunity to hurry out of the kitchen and towards the downstairs bathroom, sliding in and shutting the door with a sigh.

I went straight on over to the sink and turned on the water just to wet my hands before taking up perch on the closed toilet lid, listening to the water trickle and flow, hoping it would calm me slightly. Then I took the chance to down half the bottle Carly had gifted me, a bit grim sure, but with the loo being my only escape I hardly had a choice here. The water was practically heaven sent and allowed me a second to take relief in the coolness the room had to offer, its chilly tiles and blinded window kept any and all sunbeams at bay.

But now that I had managed to evade the heat, I realised I’d been left with a rather prominent headache I hadn’t noticed earlier in my agitation. Knowing Hann though, he was always well prepared and probably kept a couple paracetamol in the bathroom cabinet.

I grinned when I got up and pulled open a door to find that I’d been right. I went to grab at the packet only to pause when I caught sight of something else sat on the shelf below it.

A box of pregnancy tests.

No, I thought. It wouldn’t make any sense. But it really seemed to hit me in that moment that maybe, just maybe everything I’d been feeling as of late could boil down to one single thing.

“No.” I repeated, this time out loud and accompanied by a disbelieving laugh. But still I found my hand reaching towards them.

I only reckoned that they were in there in the first place because Adam and Carly had given away the fact that they had wanted to start trying again a couple months prior. Around Easter time I think it had been.

I shook my head to clear my thoughts, but they all seemed drawn to this singular idea, and although I already knew that it was stupid, almost incredibly so, to even think that I could be, well… I still allowed myself to grab at them and it was almost on autopilot that I pulled out a stick and shakily made my way back to the toilet.

I made quick work of it, all that water I’d been drinking seemed to help, and found myself leaning over the sink waiting for a stick to determine what I already knew would be false. It had to be. There was no other way.

But then. I guess there was.

My eyes widened and I reckoned I forgot how to breath let alone how to think when I caught sight of the exact opposite of what I’d been expecting.

Oh and wasn’t that the worst word to use right then. Expecting.

A jolted knock at the door knocked me right back into reality and my wide eyes flew over towards it. I didn’t answer though, I didn’t have in me, but then the knock came again, followed by a, “B, you in there?”

Fuck, Matty. Of course it’d be Matty!

“Yeah?” I called back, voice as shaky as my legs seemed to be.

“You alright? Only, you looked a bit peaky out there, then Carls mentioned it too. Figured I’d come check.”

With trembling hands I pushed myself off of the sink and across the tiled bathroom floor, steeling myself before fiddling with the lock. “Fuck.” I muttered, shaking so severely now that I was surprised I was still standing.

“B?” Matty asked again, but I somehow managed to open the door a crack to find him stood on the other side, a pair of dark sunnies tucked into his effortless curls and his usual grin in place, although looking a tad bit wobbly. “You alright in there?”

I swallowed and before I could think better of it I said, “Get Ross.”

Matty’s expression crinkled in confusion and to be fair to him, it was a strange ask, I must’ve looked a right state, but I wasn’t asking for him or for George, I was asking after Ross.

“What? B, just let me in, will you. What’s goin’ on?”

I shook my head and held tightly onto the doorframe as though it was the only thing keeping me upright, it likely was. “I need Ross.”

The quizzical frown Matty wore only deepened but he backed up a bit, “Come on, stop being a prat. You’re acting weird, freaking me out a bit, in truth.” He chuckled faintly, obviously still conflicted, “Just let me in and we can talk, yeah?”

“Just fuck off, Matty! Call Ross, now.” I all but ordered and the surprise that fluttered through his features would’ve been surprising but I was too far gone to be paying attention to all of his many emotions when I could barely hold onto my own. “Please.”

His resolve seemed to crack at that and he looked at me for a long second before nodding swiftly, “Yeah, alright. Yeah, I’ll go get him.”

I swallowed down the choking sensation I suddenly felt crawling up my throat and nodded in reply, shutting the door before he even had the chance to run off.

“Fuck.” I hissed through my teeth, pressing my face against the bathroom door in an odd attempt to keep myself from sobbing outright.

Had I been too harsh? Matty had only wanted to help. I understood that. I did. But it was Matty, and as much as I fucking loved the daft idiot, this was not a scenario he was built for. Not at all. If I’d’ve let him in and he’d seen that test sat on the sink he’d have freaked out even worse than me. The whole house, no, the entire street would’ve known something was amiss the second he started having a mental breakdown. It was better this way.

And besides, I felt like I really needed my big brother for this one. This was real life shit, and as much as Ross and I bickered and fought, we had a relationship like no other. He was someone I’d always looked up to, someone who knew how to talk me down, to keep me grounded and centred. He had all the answers, and when he didn’t then he knew exactly what to say to sound as though he did. He’d know what to do, he’d sort it all out.

I jumped at the knock that came in that next moment, feeling the vibration buzz through my skull and only accentuating the headache I’d given myself, but still I moved towards the lock once more and was beyond grateful to just see Ross stood there, hunched a little to peek in through the gap at me with a smile.

“You called, your highness?” He remarked playfully and before I could even get the door open any further, the tears started flowing helplessly and I had to watch the way Ross entire expression went from playful to utter horror in a split second. “B, what happened?” He immediately asked, crowding against the door to shuffle in and I allowed him, watching him lock the door once more before I fell into his arms completely.

“Shit. You’re alright, love. It’s okay.” He reassured me softly before carefully wrapping his arms around me, sheltering me from the rest of the world.

The two of us stayed like that for a while, I wasn’t sure how long in truth, enough to let the dull rock he’d started up calm me whilst listening to the faint murmuring of his voice. It was familiar and so very needed right then that I clung on tighter to the back of his shirt as I tried to muddle through my messy mind.

We pulled away soon after, though he still kept me at arms length whilst guiding us both over to the side of the small bath. Ross took a seat on its edge and I followed, thankful that he had the foresight to keep an arm wrapped around my shoulders to keep me close, otherwise I figured I might’ve slipped right into the tub.

“You wanna share with the class or am I gonna have to play a round of charades here?”

I chuckled wetly at his crap joke but it appeared to settle him a bit, being back on familiar ground.

I sniffed and smiled when a wad of tissue was shoved my way. “Ta. Sorry for um, all this. Just, I didn’t want to talk to anyone else.”

“Nothing to be sorry for, glad I could be some help.” Ross laughed, squeezing me a little tighter and assuring me that he meant it, “So, you gonna fill me in on what has you sobbing in Hann’s loo? There are burgers out there, mate, and hotdogs, fucking kebab skewers even! What’s there to moan about?”

I elbowed his side lightly, finding humour in his words just like he’d wanted. “I’m a fucking veggie, Ross.”

“Shit, yeah. Forgot about that detail.”

I rolled my eyes and then rubbed at my nose lightly, “Only known me since you were about ten, MacDonald.”

“And aren’t you grateful for it.” Ross quipped right back with a smirk, “Come on now, spill.”

I huffed and was forced to remember the terrifying detail I’d been trying to come to terms with, not that I really could. But before I could even utter a word I felt Ross go so utterly still beside me and instantly glanced back up to follow the direction of his gaze. He’d spotted it.

The world seemed to fall out from under me then, whether it was down to the realisation that he now knew too, or the fact that Ross had let go of me to grab at the stick on the sink, I didn’t know, but it was spinning and I only felt myself settle once more when Ross’s eyes finally locked on mine again.

“Ross?” I tried, attempting to gauge his reaction through a watery gaze.

He opened his mouth to speak but then quickly shut it again, glancing back down at the pregnancy test he held. Never had I ever in my life seen Ross speechless. But of course, I’d been the one to manage it.

“Ross, come on.” I gulped down a stutter, shifting on the edge of the bath as my entire body buzzed with nerves. “Say something. I need you to at least say something.”

He inhaled a large breath, big enough that it echoed off the tiles around us, before he finally looked back at me and said, “I’m not touching any of your piss right?”

I snorted in disbelief, because of course that’d be the first thing he’d say. “No, you twat, I put the lid back on.”

Ross sighed as though it was a huge relief- and I guess it was, I wouldn’t want to be touching his piss either- but I was relieved when he claimed his seat back beside me. “So, a baby huh?”

I blew out a breath and now that there was not much left to laugh about I felt a more sombre mood fall over us. “Maybe. Could be. I dunno.”

“Those are all the same answer, mate.”

Shooting him a look, Ross held up his hands and laughed lightly.

“I’m just saying, I mean, isn’t that how it works? You take a test and bish bash bosh, baby.”

With a snort I knocked into him lightly and rolled my eyes, “Sure, exactly like that.”

“You know what I mean.” He retorted, mimicking the movement before he glanced back down at the test he had yet to let go of. “Or you could take another? Just to be sure?”

I tongued at the inside of my cheek, thinking it over. I almost didn’t want to, one pregnancy test could be a fluke, but two? Even three? I’d have a fucking world class breakdown, move over Matty cause I’d definitely be taking the place as the groups most unhinged, or maybe I already was. Probably. We’d have to have a debate the next time I remembered. We liked those.

“Come on, Carls won’t mind and look,” Ross pushed, standing up and turning away from me, “I’ll even turn around so I don’t see.”

With a chuckle, I couldn’t bring myself to say no. Doing this once on my own had been hard enough, if I had to try again I don’t know what I’d do. “Alright.” I whispered and took another test from the box.

“You need me to hum or something?” Ross asked after a moment of shuffling from me. I turned the tap back on to try and cover up the sound, because I’d always been an awkward sort of pee-er. Was that even a word? But still struggled.

“Maybe. Or try the shower.”

“What like turning it on?” I could hear the frown in his voice.

“No, get in it, dickhead. Yes, I meant turn it on!”

“Fucking hell.” He muttered under his breath as he moved to do so, “Hope the baby doesn’t get your patience.”

I tossed the empty box at his back, “Don’t say that!”

The fucking prick laughed.

“Alright, alright! Go on. I can’t hear anything now.”

Thankfully, that big bottle Carly had given me as well as the one I’d been nursing in the car and then outside came into clutch then and I managed to go again.

I flushed and washed my hands, drying them off on the hand towel before telling Ross he could turn back around.

“How long do we wait then?” He questioned from over my shoulder, making me jump.

Stilling my racing heart, I let out a breath. “Two minutes or so.”

Ross hummed from behind me then moved to the side to wrap me up in his arms again, it was nice having someone there this time around, like finding shelter in a rainstorm.

And so we waited. The seconds felt eternal and the minutes passed excruciatingly slow, but eventually, eventually, we had to look.

I bit my lip. “I can’t do it.”

“Why not?”

“Why the fuck not, he asks! I’m fucking terrified, Ross. I can’t be a mum! I hardly even a person, let alone an actual adult!” I stressed, breathing heavier now that even I noticed it, but Ross only pulled me closer and looked down at me.

“You’re incredible. You hear me? You’ve looked after us lot for years, so I know you’ll fucking ace this shit without even having to try. You’re brilliant, B. Everyone who’s ever met you can tell you as much. If you’re pregnant, then you’ll deal with it like you do everything. But you won’t be doing it alone. You’ve got us. You’ve got a family. And most of all, you’ve got G. He’d do anything for you. A baby will only solidify that. Do you really think he’d leave you high and dry?” He must’ve seen the look that crossed my face when he said that because he blinked, “You do, don’t you?”

“It’s not- I’m-” I stuttered, unable to really defend myself against that statement because a small part of me was scared of exactly that. “I love him, Ross. I do. I just-”

“You’re scared it’ll be like before.” He finished for me and all I could do was nod and he squeezed me a little tighter, “Well, I know that he won’t. Wouldn’t fucking survive it, the idiot. Last time was a fluke. And as much as he hurt you, you know it was his fault for not dealing with his shit, not yours. Never yours. Yeah?”

I nodded again against his chest.

“G won’t leave though, that I can promise you. But, and this is a BIG but, if he did, you’d have me, and you’d have Matty, and Hann and Carly. Denise and Delia and everyone else. You wouldn’t be alone. Never, ever will you be alone, B.”

My eyes were stinging again, “But what if I’m not good enough either? What if I leave? What if I’m exactly like her?”

Her.

And immediately Ross knew just who I was talking about.

“You’re nothing like your mum, love. No where near. Of that I can fucking assure you. You love with everything you’ve got. Like a light house in a stormy sea, you. Lure just about everyone in with your warmth and charm.” He pressed his chin to the top of my head, rocking us again. “What I would give to let you see yourself through my eyes. I swear. And that baby, or any future baby you have, will be the luckiest kid around to be able to call you their mum. Alright?”

Fucking Ross MacDonald.

“Do you enjoy making me cry?” I asked him through a wet chuckle, squinting up at him now with tear stained cheeks. I gave a sigh when he reached up to wipe them away.

“Only happy tears, yeah? Fucking seeing you cry because of anything else makes me feel like I’ve just been hit by a bus.”

Scoffing out a laugh I couldn’t help, I shook my head at him. “Love you. I know we don’t say that much but I don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t here.”

He grinned down at me, “Probably sob in the bath, or maybe make an escape out through the window?”

“Maybe.” I smiled.

“You ready yet?”

I chewed on my lip for a hesitant moment then dipped my head, Ross released me and instead took my hand. We both seemed to simultaneously take a deep breath, glancing at one another and then the sink.

“Together?”

“Together.”

He reached for it and I had to keep myself from squeezing my eyes tightly shut, stomach tightening with the butterflies that crowded my insides.

We looked down at the same time before glancing back towards each other.

Ross broke the silence, “Dibs on being godfather.”

— GEORGE’S POV—

September brought the cold. It was more prominent this year though it seemed, barely out of August and already he was in a hat and coat. Still, he’d left knowing he’d be out for quite a while and didn’t want to catch something from freezing his arse off, especially with Birdie being in and out of hospital. She was more susceptible to infection at the minute, since having had her spleen removed after the accident it had been something she’d often struggled with. They’d had a meningitis scare not too long back, big enough to warrant a couple weeks off work but not life threatening. To her at least, George on the other hand had had his balls pulled out through his arse, or that’s what it’d felt like being so constantly on edge. Everything turned out okay in the end though, more than even. Because it was then that he’d learnt about the tiny Baby Daniel she’d been housing.

And what a fucking thought that was. A baby. An entire other person. Both his and hers to keep. Though he only hoped that they got more of her than him.

It had been quite the revelation, watching on as a swarm of nurses wheeled his wife off on a gurney after having just told him the baby was doing fine. Even now it had a way of rendering him utterly speechless.

It was all he’d been able to think about ever since. Will the baby like the colour blue? Will they be a boy, or a girl? Will they have his eyes or hers, her smile or his? He prayed to whatever God that was out there that they only got her nose. Birdie thought his suited him, but he’d keep on wishing any way.

There’d also been the questions that shone a bright sodding stage-light on all of his insecurities. Illuminated them like the Blackpool Tower for every fucker else to see. Matty’d been the first to clock on though, or the first to come and speak to him about it, it’d done him a world of wonder to get it off his chest and have that reassurance, but even now it continued to make him nervous, had him wondering whether or not he’d ever be good enough, if he deserved to have something so precious of his own. But then he’d always struggled with that, hadn’t he, and he was still learning. Adapting, in a sense. These things took time.

He continued to think about it though, about everything which surrounded the baby, as he wandered through a field of dew covered grass, being respectful enough of the aging stone graves that dotted the cemetery as he went. The one he was looking for was further in the back, settled in a plot next to a few others with the same surname.

George took the time to think and settle his nervous thoughts as he made his way on over, revising the map on his phone every few minutes. It was a rather large cemetery, with oversized oak trees and moss that clung to ancient tombs and mausoleums, so it took him a while to finally find it but when he did the nerves he’d been feeling and the anxiety he’d expected failed to hinder him. In fact, he hardly felt anything at all and moved towards the three graves without much thought.

They each bared the same headstone, only difference was that one was much newer than the remaining two. They all had their own inscriptions but it had been a little while since he’d last visited and so he took the time to allow his eyes to wander over the cursive.

‘No Man Is Indispensable But Some Are Irreplaceable.’

‘Too well loved to ever be forgotten, here lies a loving Father, a Husband and a Son.'

And finally,

‘A woman made of strength and love lies here, today she dances with angels.’

“Heya, Nana.” George greeted in a low murmur, eyes already a little wet as he drew closer to the end plot, “It’s been a while but I’ve brought you your favourites, peonies from Birdie’s shop, blue just like your eyes. She wrapped them up real nice too, but when does she ever not?” George gave a light chuckle at that, placing down the backpack he held and moving around the grave to clear it of any fallen debris, replacing the old flowers with the new.

He rubbed at his nose and stuffed his hands into his coat pockets before taking a seat by her headstone, gaze lingering on the words Birdie had chosen alongside Dee all those years ago now. Dancing with angels, he grinned at the very thought, and dealing with the Devil, he added. Nana had always been one to try her luck, just as wonderfully wild as her granddaughter, and George reckoned she’d probably bested the hellish bastard by now, overthrown him and all.

“Lot’s changed, you know.” He told the woman, “Dee’s met some fella, handsome bloke mind, but they’ve taken her taxi and decided to travel across Europe in it. In Germany now, though I wouldn’t be surprised if they phoned us up tomorrow claiming to be in Egypt. But you know her, she’s a free spirit. Should be back by February though, that’s just before the baby’s due. Yeah, not hers though- could you imagine?”

George couldn’t help the cackle that escaped him at that and was immensely grateful for the fact that no-one else seemed to be wandering around anywhere close. “Sorry, sorry, but yeah. No it’s Birdie. She’s nearing fourteen weeks now. Can you picture it? Us two with a little one. My dad can’t wait, neither can the lads. Reckon you’d be dancing about too if you were still here, telling everyone to quit their fussing then make B a brew just how she likes.”

He let a quiet settle, smiling softly as the morning breeze flittered past.

“I know she misses you. Kills her to not have you here to see it all. But,” He took a moment, “I understand why, never met anyone quite like you, doubt I ever will. You took me in without a care for the consequences. Let me stay with you each summer, listened to me moan on about the band and music, came to our first few London gigs.” He cracked a smile at the reminder, “Can still picture those shirts you and Dee made, reckon B has them stashed away somewhere. Have to ask. But as much as I’d love to stay and chat all day, I promised myself I’d say hi to Charlie over there and stop by to talk to her Dad for a bit.”

George was careful as he stood back up, laying a hand over Nana’s name before wiping off the damp grass which clung to his jeans and stepping away.

He only had to walk a few short steps before he was grinning at the grave sat beside Nana’s, he made quick work of pulling out a bottle of Scotch from his bag as well as a shot glass, then placed them both down on the cold marble. Just as he did each time they visited, he poured the man a hearty glass and spoke to him about his favourite football team. “Hiya, Charlie. West Ham’s fourth on the league table at the minute, mate. Doing alright this year, but Cities still in first so, guess they’ll have to try just a bit harder.”

With a light laugh, George patted the man’s headstone before finally wandering over to the next, to where Birdie’s father lay, the man she idolised most.

He took a deep breath feeling a little fearful suddenly, but not of the situation, rather of disappointing the man. Of this whole thing going tits up. But this was something he’d wanted. Felt he needed to do. So he let go of the air inside his lungs and, just as he did by Nana, he took a seat by the man’s grave.

“We’ve never spoken much, you and I.” He begun, voice quieter now than it had just been, “But I know B visits when she can. I brought you a bird actually, little statue thing with these stones embedded in its eyes, B reckons they’ll bring peace, but I think you’ve already found that now. Still, it reminds me of her, a Song Thrush, they’re pretty and sing like a poet.”

Leaning in closer, George took time placing the statue where he thought it would last the longest and smiled softly before going back to his bag to pull out a colourful wind spinner, he stuck in the damp soil near his leg before he spoke again.

“Dee also likes to talk about you, says you had a thing for wind chimes and these things. Can see the appeal, they’re nice to watch, let you know which way the wind’ll blow. Said you also would’ve liked me too, and I can only hope she’s right.” He laughed quietly to himself, thumbing the ring on his left hand. “Be a bit messy if you didn’t though, ‘cause I love her more than anything. Do anything she asks, go anywhere she pleases. She’s like my own little wind spinner in a sense, can never tell which way I’m going with her but I know we’ll never stop spinning.

“I know I should’ve made this trip a long while ago. Maybe after we got back, maybe even before that. I have no excuse except for the fact that I’ve been a bit scared to ask this of you, because I know I’ll never really hear your honest answer. I can only pray that you’d be happy for her.”

It had been something he’s wanted to do since he was a teenager, ever since that first trip down to London, but after all these years of having clung to the man’s lighter he felt like he sort of knew him in a way. Knew that the dent in its side was from the way he used to knock his hip off of the radiator back in Nana’s house when climbing the stairs. Saw the way the striker wheel had been changed a long while back, different to the original but very very close. And how the hinge had been struck a few times to keep the lid from going floppy. He cared a great deal for the things he owned and it showed how much he loved the gifts he’d been given, seeing as though he had gotten it from his own father before Birdie had ever been born.

It was a strange concept, but it brought George a little peace.

“I don’t know if you heard, I know that Nana tends to gossip, but you’ll be a grandfather soon.” George told him with a wide smile as he pulled to his wallet to look down at the first Ultrasound picture they’d been given. “They’re a lot bigger now. This was when I first found out though. That daughter of yours had known for a week or two by that point. But I was over the moon and also terrified, so I can see how she kept it under wraps for so long. We’ve got a few names going in the raffle, our friends all want to have the honour of naming them, but B and I are waiting for the perfect one.”

George let his thumb brush over the picture before he sat it up and open on the grave, leaving it there until he had to go.

“I’ve known Birdie for so long now, she doesn’t know it but since the day I laid eyes on her she’s all I’ve ever wanted. And I would’ve taken anything she’d have given me. Whether that’d been a passing look or a chance at just being her mate. So when were younger and finally together, I thought I’d won the lottery. And I had. But then we got to speaking about marriage. What we wanted in the future, if kids would ever come into the picture, what house we’d buy. Just things you speak about with someone like that. Yeah, we’d been young but we’d both been through a lot. We knew more than most. Had experienced it.

“But anyway, when she’d said she never wanted any of that. Couldn’t see it for herself, and I understood. Broke my fucking heart a bit, but I’d’ve given her the stars if I could’ve. Even now. So it’s funny how it all changed. We’re married and there’s that baby on the way. Though, now that we’ve done it, now that we’ve acknowledged the fact that this thing we were both a little wary of is something we can have without the fear and terror, I want to do it properly, you know? So I thought it was only respectful to come and ask you first.”

And there was that nervousness finally, but it was out in the open now. Perhaps it was silly asking a man long since buried this question but it just felt right.

“I don’t think we’ll have big ceremony or anything even if she does say yes, we’re not the type. But at least then we can say we did it right, and as much as I now love that little elopement of ours, I really want her to know how much I love her. That I will forever be hers. In both heart and mind. And that I’m proud to bare this ring.”

George swallowed thickly at the onslaught of emotions this trip had pulled from him, then wiped under his nose. He picked up his wallet and folded it away then took his stand, running a hand through his hair as he tried to get ahold of himself, didn’t want to start sobbing his way back to the carpark now. Though it was a near thing.

“Right, I’d best be off anyway. Said I’d pick B up some strawberries from the market, she’ll only eat them at the minute, pairs them with this horrid jam as well. It’s proper grim but I’d never say a bad thing about it. Spent ages consoling her the one time Matty did. But he’s a nightmare that never learns.” He scratched at the nape of his neck after having shouldered his bag, feeling the effects of this outing already. “I’ll make sure to visit soon, with Birdie and then the baby too hopefully.”

He glanced down at the wind spinner then and was surprised to see it had stopped spinning, he frowned slightly at the sight and double checked to see if he could still feel the breeze, he did, it was hard not to in truth. So slowly he made his way back over and just as he begun to crouch down the thing started spinning once more.

George blinked down at it, once then twice, and then simply laughed. Hoping that maybe it’d been some sort of sign.

“I’ll look after her.” He promised, sparing one last glance to the final grave before he made his way back to the car.

—

The moving van reached the house long before I did, but I was just thankful that George had been able to take the time off to get there earlier than me. I parked up in a bay and waddled down the pavement to peer into the back of it, smiling when I found that almost half of it had already been moved inside. Which was good for me, seeing as though I’d hardly be of any help, pregnant or not.

“B!” I heard someone shout out and turned to find Matty stood on the top step of the familiar terraced house, he waved me closer but jogged down the steps to greet me once I’d made it over, “Figured you get here a little later, G and I are just setting up the living room.”

“Really?” I questioned in surprise, grateful when he took my arm to help me up the stairs and into the house. I grinned at the familiar feeling that washed over me upon walking in.

“Really.” Matty laughed, taking my coat and hanging it amongst the rest by the door. The little gentleman. If I’d only known that it’d just take me turning into a whale to get Matty to wait on me hand and foot I’d’ve done it sooner. Not even G was as bad as him. “Your Nana had good taste though, so I can see why you and George don’t wanna change much.”

I grinned, glad that he saw it too. We’d been gifted the house in Bethnal Green by Dee after the reading of Nana’s will, she wanted us to have a proper home for the little one and figured it would be the best place for us. And my God was it. It was everything I’d dreamed of and more. It filled me with so much happiness to know that my child would be growing up in the environment I loved most when I’d been little.

“Where is he, anyway?” I asked, leaning against the bannister to peer up the main stairs and at the landing, we’d had some builders in to change a few things since the house had been signed over and I hadn’t yet seen it all fully finished.

“Who, G?” Matty said and at my nod he went on, “Left him in the living room, we were trying to put together a cabinet, probably still in there.”

We both chuckled and wandered in through the side door to find George sat on the living room floor just behind the sofa looking very close to fuming. “Fuck sake, Matty! When you said a minute, I thought you were joking! Whole fucking thing collapsed on me the second you left, you prick!”

“Oi, no swearing around the baby, please.” Matty scolded, though he looked all too pleased with himself, and I watched on as George angled his head further backwards to see me stood in the doorway. I waved.

“Birdie! Thank fuck someone capable has arrived. Be a love and help me up, would you?”

I laughed and moved to do just that before Matty’s indignant squark stopped me in my tracks, “I don’t think so, mate. Get yourself up. I’ll take B into the kitchen, get you some tea, yeah? Were you at the shop long?”

I bit my lip to keep from cackling at the expression that overwhelmed G’s face then but was already being dragged away.

“I can still do shit you know.” I said to Matty before being steered onto a barstool, I let him get away with it though, observing how effortlessly he worked his way around the kitchen, switching on the kettle and pulling out the milk from the massive fridge George had insisted on buying.

“Language.” Matty reminded me and I could only roll my eyes, “And I know, you just shouldn’t have to.”

“That so?” I hummed around a smile.

Matty nodded, pulling the few glasses we’d brought over for visits during construction onto the counter, “Look, the way I see it, the baby’s not here yet so if you want, I don’t mind offing G and telling everyone the kid’s mine. I mean, you saw him in there,” He shook his head all serious like, “It ain’t on, B. Got to cut your loses while you still can.”

“Sorry, what was that?” I sorted at George’s sudden arrival, wondering how this would all go down and decided to stir the pot a bit.

“Matty reckons I’d be better off making a run for it while I still can, already got a car ready and waiting for when I say the word.”

George shook his head in veiled amusement and stepped further into the kitchen to swipe a tea towel against Matty’s backside. “Keep talking like that and I’ll see to it that you never meet my baby, you dick.”

“Swearing!” Matty once again reminded the pair of us and I couldn’t help my incessant giggling now, eyes darting back and forth between the pair, “And I dare you to try, George Daniel. I have rights!”

“What rights!”

“Godfatherly rights!”

“Fuck off, Ross claimed that already.”

“Swearing! And I don’t care you can have more than one godfather!”

“No, we’ve discussed this already.”

“No we have not.”

“Yes, we have.”

“No, we have not.”

“Matty.”

“George!”

George groaned dramatically and decidedly tossed the tea towel he still had in hand at Matty’s head, the curly haired singer grunted before throwing it right back at him, then turning to me.

“B, tell him.” He was all but whining now.

“George, Matty can be whatever he likes.”

Matty practically beamed upon hearing that whilst G just scowled, “Over my dead body.”

“That’s fine. I can make do.”

George rolled his eyes at the blatant threat, but threw himself into the chair beside me to press his forehead against the counter instead of replying. I ran a hand through his hair.

“It’s okay, babe. He’ll give up once he realises it’ll mostly just be shitty nappies and crying until they’re old enough to walk.” I reassured but Matty didn’t think much of it.

“I fucking won’t.”

George shot straight back up at that with a grin as big as Matty’s ego on his face and I already knew what he was going to say.

“Language, Matthew! And in front of your godchild too, shame.”

Although Matty looked shocked to have let the curse accident slip, his whole demeanour changed when he truly internalised George’s words. “Wait, actually?”

George laughed, glancing at me before slinging an arm around my waist, “We decided on it a while ago, mate. Baby Daniel will have the typical four godparents, only thing is you, Hann and Ross will have to decide between yourselves on who’s the second godmother.”

I rolled my eyes at that, but still found myself unable to stop grinning. The baby was set to have three godfathers at this point and then Carly, who we’d already asked, as a godmother. It was a lucky little thing and had yet to even be born.

“I don’t even care. I’ll throw on a pair of tits and a wig if it gets me an in.”

George barked a loud laugh at his best mate’s reply and I could only chuckle alongside him as Matty handed me over my tea, grateful to have them both, as well as the rest of my family. It wasn’t long now either before the baby would soon come along too, another thing I’d forever be grateful for.

And to think, I barely resembled the girl I’d once been, it was strange to see all that I’d been given.

I wouldn’t waste it.

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