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currentlyreadingmanga · 5 years ago

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Toilet-bound Hanako-kun: Chapter 9 - The Young Exorcist (Part 1)

Previously: we’ve dealt with the confession tree, and Hanako and Yashiro filled my heart with feelings. It was a mostly light-hearted chapter, with a lot of funny moments but that last scene we had with them was very sweet and a solid foundation for their relationship to keep growing. I’m glad that we could see that even if Hanako does have a very teasing nature, he actually seems to genuinely care about Yashiro and he can be serious when he needs to be.

Now onto the next chapter!

Ohhhh okay it seems we are shifting the focus onto the Minamoto brothers with a flashback (I’m guessing the Minamoto-senpai Yashiro had a crush on is Kou’s older brother because same last name and they do look alike (fun fact: I mistoke them from one another when Kou was first introduced because of their looks and because we don’t know the older brother’s first name, but then I noticed they had different colour hair. I guess I would have been more confused if I hadn’t been watching the anime)

Anyway, the flashback. It seems to be set when senpai (I’m calling him that until we get a name) was eight years old and he’s fighting a....thing....that will probably haunt my nightmares at some point....but yeah, they ones overseeing him point out that he’s very skilled for his age but that also is to be expected of him. So I’m guessing he must be a very well regarded exorcist now if he was THAT talented when he was a child....which makes me wonder why he hasn’t done anything about the aparitions around the school. Is only Kou in charge of it?

Look at this baby. Look at him, my heart, he’s so cute. Kou is one year younger than Yashiro, right? and if Minamoto is a second year in hs (if I’m remembering correctly), then he should be six years old here, right? Smol bean

He jumps to hug his brother but senpai doesn’t seem happy that Kou followed him to his....training, I guess? Since he seems to be surpervised by a couple of men. And it makes sense, they��re both very young and things could go wrong, especially if no one know Kou is there

And here we also see that Kou is very excited to follow up on his brothers footsteps and wants to be a great exorcist like his brother and it’s very on par with his attitude when we first met him and he tried to exorcise Hanako

But he then says “that’s what I always wanted, but...” and we cut next to him with his friends but looking back at Hanako in the hallway. And ah, the title for this week is “the young exorcist (part 1)”, so that means we’ll get a more Kou-centric chapter(s)? Exciting! That “but” and the cover page make me think that it’s very likely that he’s having doubts about the whole “beat all the supernaturals” thing since Hanako has been a pretty alright guy so far. If that’s the case, it could set up a good internal conflict for his character

This poor child is such a third wheel right now lol It’s okay, Kou, you’ll get used to their banter

But hey, it looks like Yashiro is trying to continue from where we left of last time when she decided she wanted to get to know Hanako better. Well, at least that’s what I think she’s trying to do with this compatibility horoscope

Okay, yeah, she’s definitely trying to get more information under the guise of the horoscope lol but Hanako doesn’t seem to want to cooperate. And I mean, it makes sense since I see him as someone who pretends to be carefree but doesn’t actually share important details about himself until he feels completely comfortable. After all the only reason we even know he killed someone is because Kou told us.

“If you wann do a compatibility horoscope, do it with one of your crushes. Like Minamoto-senpai or somebody” well, try not to sound so salty, mister

Kou is surprised by these news and Yashiro is saying that her crush on senpai is more akin to having a crush on an idol, someone you just admire from afar. And yeah, considerering how minimal their actual interactions were, and she realized that she doesn’t really know much about him besides what’s public knowledge

Well, speak of the devil and he shall appear lol He has the pretty boy sparkles and everything, huh? I can understand why Yashiro was so infatuated with him, he’s one handsome guy. Also if I was in this situation right now, I would crawl into a hole and die because that’s so embarrasing omg

We have a name! Teru Minamoto, okay, easy to remember. We have upgrade from senpai to Teru. And he’s thanking Yashiro for being kind to Kou, awwww

oH. That...that doesn’t look good..........that smells like trouble. Also the change from sweet older brother figure to that cold look he threw towards Hanako was quick and a bit terrifying ngl

He’s pulled Kou aside and now they’re talking and he’s reminding him that if he encounters any of the seven mysteries, he should expel them immendiately but Kou doesn’t look too happy.

Ohhh okay, Teru says that they are aware of recent change in the supernaturals’ behaviou recently and that they hadn’t acted because they hadn’t put the students in danger before. And we know that’s true if we think about the mokke and how they said that they had been living in peace with the humans at the school for a long time until their story changed and they didn’t have another choice but to do as the rumors said

He also mentions that the seven mysteries are the most powerful and dangerous supernaturals in the school. Which makes sense, since Hanako mentioned that the seven are the ones controlling the seven boundaries between this world and the spirit world.

Here we seem to get a glimpse of some of the others, but most aren’t really distinguishable. We have Yakko and Hanako, then at the far left I think there’s some sort of mask, then there’s two silhouettes, and then we have what seems to be a girl holding something in her hands and then a mirror besides her.

But yeah, Teru says that since these seven are the most problematic, they should erradicate them first and foremost. Which, from a logical point of view makes sense but since we’re privy to their behaviour and we know that we could change things if we change the rumors, I want to say please do not exorcise my baby, he’s trying to keep the balance

And it seems Kou agrees with me. Hanako still pisses him off but he admits that the little sassy ghost has been really helpful (and he even protected Kou during their escapade to the Misaki Stairs despite saying he wouldn’t). Teru really seems to disagree, though, and

oH. Again. It really seems like Teru has his mind set about this. Like, I guess it make sense, we saw that they were trained from a young age and they are part of a legendary clan that has been exorcising spirits for generations, so the history probably doesn’t have much to say in favour of the apparitions

He also answers the question I had before about why it was just Kou going after the mysteries: apparently he had thought it would be a good way to let Kou grow as an exorcist but he now sees it had the opposite effect since he’s feeling sympathy for Hanako.

“I’m taking you off the seven mysteries case” that’s-that’s really not good if his glare to Hanako earlier is anything to go by. “I’ll clean up this mess” yiKES

Oh, okay, it seems like Kou managed to buy himself some more time before his brother intervenes. And yes, here’s the internal conflict I was hoping for

He knows what his duty is but he also has grown to care for not only Hanako but also (and especially) Yashiro. So there’s not only the fact that Hanako has been helpful but also the fact that Yashiro clearly cares a lot for the ghost since she protected him the first time they met. Kou seemed like a really sweet guy and all this just reinforces that notion.

Okay, so now has make it his mission to find evidence to prove to his brother that Hanako is not a bad supernatural. And it’s not a bad plan, since he would need to keep a close eye on Hanako either way, so it works in his favour.

I.....Hanako, sweetie, why-what-

Okay, he’s clearly collecting things with the help of the mokke and putting it in the big sack he’s carrying. But yeah, it really doesn’t help his case when Kou is trying to prove he’s not suspicious

Pfffft Kou really needs to work on his sneaking abilities since he almost got discovered by a teacher and immediately after that Hanako found him. Although Hanako probaly already knew he was being watched

Also

The ghost child really has no notion of personal space, huh? It’s not just Yashiro who has to deal with him all up in her face

I really love their dynamic, they’re so silly together

Omg

Kou looks so distraugh here omg like “omfg please i’m trying to prove you’re a good guy why are you doing with all this stuff WH Y”

But Hanako is quick to point out that he’s actually collecting the things the mokke stole so he can give them back to the owners. And that this is happening because even though Yashiro changed the rumor, the mokke still feel the need to steal objects from people. And I hadn’t thought about it, but it makes sense since they’ve been doing it for so long and the rumor still technically says that they steal things from you even if now there’s a way to stop them from killing people

I just wanna head pat this cute child look at him.

Now Hanako is asking Kou to help him retrieve something that was stuck up in one of the towrs surrounding the school. My first question is why can’t Hanako float up there since he a ghost but it looks like Kou is asking the same thing and apparently he can’t float that high. Huh, okay. That kinda sucks and seems inconvenient but okay, good to know.

And Hanako is apologizing for making him go through all this trouble but he insisted because the item seemed like it would be important for somebody. He seems honest and Kou is once again hit by the feeling that Hanako is not really a bad supernatural. And yeah, it’s like I said earlier: there’s probably not a good record of supernaturals doing good deeds and that’s what his family knows after generations spent fighting spirits. But Kou is hopeful that maybe his brother wasn’t totally right and that, as Hanako has been demostrating, good supernaturals can exist.

Oh no. While Hanako seems to have caught what they were looking for, he also slipped from Kou’s grasp and that’s not good....well...kinda. I mean, he’s a ghost, right? Like, this sounds horrible but he’s already dead, so he can’t get too hurt from this fall............right?

I feel like this chapter has been full of me just gushing about what a good boy Kou is and honestly? he is and I regret nothing

He’s so worried ahhhh but Hanako is okay and they remembered that the ghost was in fact a ghost so risk no greater than a couple of ghost bruises

AHHHHH

Just. This whole page. It’s so precious. Look at them sharing a laugh together because they were being dummies and then Kou finding out that the thing Hanako was working so hard to get back because it looked important was his earring ahhhhhhh that’s so cute omg look at them!! I didn’t even noticed his earring was gone! (I checked again and he had it when the three of them were talking but it was already gone when he had his talk with Teru. I guess the mokke he had on his lap took it. That was a nice subtle detail)

Awww and he’s made his decision. He believes that Hanako is proof that there are good supernaturals so he won’t exorcise him. Hanako looks shocked and is asking him what made him change his mind since Kou had himself said that he was “the evil spirit of a murderer”.

Kou says that he’s sorry because he didn’t know any better and that he’s sure that Hanako had his reason for what he did but-

...........He makes a fair point. Like, at this point we know very little about Hanako’s life and motives. The only fact that seems to be certain at this point is that he has killed someone when he was alive, but we don’t know any of the circumstances around it. He has had moments where he looked and acted with what appeared to be malice, like when he told Yashiro that crying wouldn’t solve anything, and when he pointed his knife at Kou during their first meeting and when he explained to them that scary experiences are the ones that stick in your memory the most. There’s been an underlying aura of danger in Hanako that’s impossible to ignore, there’s no denying that. But there’s still the fact that he has done everything in his power to protect Yashiro and now Kou in dangerous situations. So a part of me believes that there has to be a reasonable explanation for his actions; if we take the really angsty route I would guess that he did it as an act of self-defense or something like that. But yeah, “when is it right to kill someone?” is a very tricky question

............................ah. that underlying danger i mentioned? here it is again, back at full force.

But also the look on his eyes, while the swirls give off that crazy vibe, the wobbliness and his overall expression convey a very hopeless feeling, I don’t know, he just looks very distressed. To me it looks like he really doesn’t want to do this, but he also needs to prove his point to Kou

(ﾟдﾟ；) (ﾟдﾟ；) (ﾟдﾟ；)

Oh no (ﾟдﾟ；) (I stand corrected: I’ve spent only half of this chapter gushing about Kou, the other half I’ve been going “oh no” almost every time Teru appears)

And again: the quick switch from “pleasant charming” smile”to “I will destroy you” look is terrifying. This does not bode well oh man oh man next chapter is gonna be crazy and stressful

#toilet bound hanako kun #jibaku shounen hanako kun #live blogging #jshk spoilers #tbhk #jshk

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theunderdogwrites · 4 years ago

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Green Lives Matter

My favorite Halloween costume from my childhood (age 10) was The Hulk.

For three reasons:

1. I made it myself

2. I wore it two years in a row

3. It made my outside look how I felt on the inside – tough but complicated

I cut up an old pair of jeans to look as though my tiny legs had busted through the seams and to make it appear like I’d grown taller. I took an old white dress shirt and shredded the sleeves to symbolize my biceps exploding in rage and slightly shredded away the length. I put black (safe) spray paint in my hair and painted my legs, arms and face in Hulk green to complete the look. There is a photo of this masterpiece somewhere in an old album, I just don’t have access to it right at this moment. I know I looked magnificent because I remember the feeling of hiding behind this larger than life character for a night while grunting for candy or else “HULK SMASH!” your front door down. I love this memory.

Now let’s address this – I did green face.

I refuse to apologize and if The Hulk wants to come find me and break me like a hard pretzel, well then he better bring backup because even though I am no longer painting my face green… I have turned myself into a Hulk. Ok, a mini Hulk. But I can conjure up a temper and throw a tantrum while also being completely unreasonable and void of real direction. So... yeah, he’s going to need someone other than Black Widow to come with him.

I should mention that I am white. And not just white – I am Scottish white (Scottish heritage, born in Canada). Fair skinned, blonde hair, green eyes and I once thought mashed potatoes were the best food of all time. Until I discovered garlic mashed potatoes. Mind blown.

“I love humanity, but I hate humans.” – Albert Einstein

Let’s not lie – being white has its privileges. Do I know what all those privileges are? No, probably because I’m privileged in some way. But I find myself going back to the same bit to explain so much that I encounter in life:

Until my high school guidance councillor explained to me what suicide was, I had no idea it was a thing. I had no idea it was a possibility and I certainly did not know that many people were actively participating.

My lack of knowledge wasn’t due to privilege but rather because suicide had never been apart of my life experience. Would we call that ignorance? Some definitely would because it literally means ‘being unaware’. I feel an ignorant person is not only being unaware, but also a first-rate wanker because they won’t educate themselves or evolve and wish to remain blind to reality.

Once I became aware of suicide, I didn’t pretend it didn’t exist. I started to pay attention. I didn’t brush it off as an experience that didn’t affect me but rather a symptom of fragile mental health and I gave it the consideration it deserved as something that many people were suffering through… most of the time alone. If I see something that is wrong, that I know needs my support – I am there.

That is not my privilege speaking, that is my humanity.

The senseless murder of George Floyd ignited a firestorm.

(A firestorm is a conflagration (an extensive fire which destroys a great deal of land or property) which attains such intensity that it creates and sustains its own wind system. It is most commonly a natural phenomenon, created during some of the largest bushfires and wildfires.)

When I saw the footage on the news – I didn’t understand. I didn’t understand the blank, almost twisted look on that officer’s face as he drove his knee down on George Floyd’s neck. I didn’t understand the blatant inaction of the other officers while witnessing this brutal extinguishing of a human being. I didn’t understand why this level of aggression was necessary on someone who was already subdued. And I didn’t understand why the words “I can’t breathe” didn’t invoke an ounce of compassion or relief.

Then came the protesting. Then the riots. Then the looting. And I still didn’t understand.

While some people want to group all three of these events, in my mind, these are three separate actions. Because by attaching the riots and the looting with the genuineness of the protesting… it lessons the cause, blurs the intention and distracts from the truth… therefore painting the protestors with a brush of violence, greed and chaos. And that is beyond unfair.

The PROTESTS are NOT out of control.

The pain and frustration are what’s out of control and more importantly the injustice is out of control and people are responding to a situation where they feel angry and powerless. Yes, the fires, destruction of property and looting are awful collateral here but it’s important to not loose focus on what caused this current situation. We often look at with contempt and criticize reactions while forgetting the action that started everything.

And that is another injustice.

I wouldn’t even know how to begin writing about Black Lives Matter or Antifa. I say this because of the controversy surrounding both movements. And if you dive deep enough into the internet, like I did, you too will begin to suffer from what I like to call ‘I don’t know what to fucking think anymore-itis’.

So, I’m going to escape talking about these two groups with this:

“Instead of feeling threatened by and hating a movement, be glad you don’t need a movement.”

My experience with black people is pretty limited. Not by choice, but rather due to geography, common interests and quite possibly socioeconomics. I can count on one hand the number of black people I knew throughout my school-aged years. My area was diverse in other ways, so no, I did not grow up in White Breadville. I mention all this to lay down a bit of background before I continue.

“I don’t see colour.” How many of us have said this at least once in the last six months? I have. And I probably said it to prove to myself or someone else that I wasn’t racist. But I no longer say that… because the truth is, I do see colour. I see ALL the fucking colours and they are beautiful. It’s people who are ugly.

If you were to ask me point blank if I was racist, I’d tell you point blank – I am not. And I’d say this with absolute belief in my character and sincerity. I care less about your skin colour and nationality and more about you returning your shopping cart to its proper location. That is the truth. Your religion doesn’t bother me at all (as long as you’re not cramming it down my throat) but your ability to treat others with genuine kindness and compassion sure matters to me. And I don’t give a flying fuck how you want to identify… be a Martian, I’m totally cool with that, but bully others in my presence and I will come at you with the full force of nuclear pasta (look it up).

The last handful of months (I’m assuming here) has caused most of us to pull up and examine those deep in the corner of our brain concepts. You know the ones – the ones that might get you questioned by The Thought Police if they existed outside of fiction. It’s ok, we all have those little bastard notions creeping around… no matter the skin colour. I started to take a closer look at some of the things I think and how they would affect others if I wore those thoughts on a t-shirt. Needless to say, I’m not super impressed with myself. Because while I know with all my heart that I am not a racist person, I do recognize that I buy into and perpetuate some stereotypes. And I have zero excuses. This admission makes me a bit uncomfortable, but I’m ok with that… I can learn through discomfort.

I hear many people talking about and referring to white guilt.

- White Guilt: ‘the feelings of shame and remorse some white people experience when they recognize the legacy of racism and racial injustice and perceive the ways they have benefited from it’.

I do not feel shame and remorse as a white person. As a human being, I am ashamed of how many of my fellow humans treat those who do not look the way they do or do not come from the same background. Do I believe there is a legacy of racism and racial injustice? Yes, 100%. Have I benefitted from this because I am white? I may be too dumb to answer this correctly. Or maybe too white? Or maybe I’ve had blinders on because based upon my own level of perception, I’ve always struggled to navigate my own existence therefore only know what has directly prevented me from being who and what I want in this world?

I underlined ‘level of perception’ because as the quote goes: “I stopped explaining myself when I realized people only understand things from their level of perception”

Earlier I said there were so many things I didn’t understand about George Floyd’s death and the protests etc. but here is something I do comprehend - there’s a big difference between understanding someone’s plight and being understanding of someone’s plight. Sympathy doesn’t require a total understanding of what problems other people are experiencing.

I may not fully grasp the struggles of those in the black community because it is not my experience but I will not ignore, deny or challenge their struggles. I will however educate myself on the issues, observe my own reactions and offer support in the ways I can and offer compassion to anyone who is willing to accept a little love from a min Hulk.

Nothing I write here is meant to change your mind. It is not meant to offend or shame you for how you may feel or think and nothing I write here is meant to lessen the seriousness of the current situation facing an entire community of people. As a writer my only goal is often to just disrupt your thoughts. Period.

#thehulk #blm #perception #george floyd

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artbysvz · 5 years ago

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When I was a kid I used to think that Adults had all the answers and that they were all knowing benevolent beings that were there to guide the small people. I did not understand that Adults were just children half conscience to their actions and all that goes on within them no different to that of a child. They had just lived longer and knew more useless stuff. Adults were worse than children as they were subjectively vomiting their fears onto all those around them and claiming the wounded sheep for their ignorance. It was as if, looking back that they were lost and looking for something that wasn’t there. In my personal understanding as a child. Adults were not subject to fear, segregation, evil thoughts of one another or little people no matter the colour or size. Adults to me I believed had done the work and as such were there to pass on the knowledge. They were beings of Gods light who did not possess anger, jealousy, hatred, sexual dis-ease, greed, selfishness and so on. For reasons I know not, I felt deep down in me that they were to be light/love givers. I found out very quickly despite my resistance to accept it that they were and are not such beings. And that If I was going to learn anything it would be I who would need to teach them. Not the other way round for they had lost sight of themselves and the love within them. I could never understand how an grown being could hurt a child. How a grown being could rape a child, how a grown being could subject a child to such cruelty as to put that child in an anguished internal flux of pain and suffering and misunderstanding and confusion. I could not understand how an elder who talked of God and Angels and right and wrong, of respect and place could over step all these within themselves and towards all those around them too. What did this mean? who were these elders because they were not the ones I knew. they were not the ones I had been with and also why was I here with them because they don’t seem to like me? It took me may years to learn the truth of things because for me, my knowing that there was good and innocence in all kept being tested to the edge of my acceptance. To the edge of what I dared to accept. If I am a pure soul who knows of only love and that love is the key to the universe and that there is no other force in the world stronger. Then they cannot be bad and they must be good, Right? If though my own abuses and witnessing of abuse I remained within my centre knowing that we must not harm each other. then surly they will see this too? I knew then that I wanted to help them to see that love and healing was the only truth. I remember one day in my pain and sorrow for the pain and torture I was facing I was crying. I think I was 10. I had been bullied at school for having a facial abnormality in my skin which I many years later found out is called Melanoma. My family were as always cold to me and my constant bulling at school. They would call me albino and kick me, tease me, hit me. I was different. I already had no self confidence because of the abuse at home. I was a walking target for other abused kids. This was very common in my time. While I sat on my bed I was crying but not out of sorry or out of self pity. I remember crying at the knowledge I held within me and what I knew and could see when I closed my eyes. I was aware of a light that was very much alive and more alive and powerful than anything in existence. I knew that I was a beacon of this light and that I was here to shine this light so intensely that it would heal many. I was acutely aware that I am love. I am the embodiment of Gods love and it doesn’t flow though me I was this love. that it resonated from my heart but all of me was this force of powerful healing love. I cried because I could feel it pulsating within me. I could see it when I closed my eyes. I remember thinking that I love God but I did not understand who Jesus was and why people called him the one true god. I could not understand how people could say that he was the all merciful saviour and all forgiving and yet he was the punisher who sent people to hell. What was this hell? what did hell mean? Was it a place? Why would God say he loves you and then send you there? To me this was a reflection of my parents as they too did the same. Who could I trust, who could I talk to because it was clear to me that in talking to anyone, you were punished. I was told that I was loved and yet I was constantly picked on and abused out of the 5 children. I was the only one. I was constantly told that I was not wanted and that there was something wrong with me. This to me was like this God, this Jesus who said he loved his children but send them to hell. To me I could not understand the limitation of love. I could not understand why there was a condition and what seemed to me to be a feeling of - If I feel like It I will love you and if I don’t then you are no good to me. So as a child I tried my hardest to keep out of the way . This wasn’t always easy when you were the subject of blame and all manner of things made up. I remember lying in my bed and listening to my mum talk to my step father about the events of the children for the day. I remember this would always terrify me because she would make stuff up. Fabricate the extremity of things only I had done in order that I got a good “handling ” the next day. And these “handlings” were in the name of God. They would involve anything from being taken by the arm and yanked like a rag doll from the room to the shower in the flat. With all my clothes on and thrown into the ice cold shower where I was to repent for the actions of my disgusting child ways. I remember I was 6 as my tiny sister was not long born. I feared showers insanely until I did my best to over come them at the age of 15. Still to this day I prefer a bath. After this shower incident I was made to stand on one leg and recount why I was being punished and explain why it was necessary to punish me so. Then I would also have to write out the lords prier or the Hale Mary 50 to 100 times. I remember thinking…. why can I not be loved like my sister. Why am I recounting this to you? because I believe that it is important for us to stand in front of the pain of the past. All to often in life we get confused. Life has so much going on and is very demanding in all the directions that it pulls us in. We can make life very difficult for our selves in the affliction’s of the moments we find ourselves in. All to often we don’t just have one thing to manage or deal with but multiple things that become a tornado of mixed up situations and feelings. It is not until we put these things into perspective and order that we are able to correctly deal with them. And by doing so we prevent ourselves from harming those around us. We project 98% of the time onto each other from an inner level and we are for the most part unconscious from when or where these projections came. They are not you they are the wounded you defending yourself and reacting in an attempt to deny the situation unto your inner self and feelings our of fear.

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setaripendragon · 6 years ago

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The Light of a Pole Star - Part 2

Here’s the next part; have a few outsider PoVs of Ed and his weirdness. The last scene of this is actually the first thing I imagined when I thought up this story, and I’m actually really pleased with how it came out.

Roy doesn’t know what to make of Edward Elric. Most of the time, he seems like your average traumatised child prodigy. A little arrogant, a lot determined, a bit impulsive and, heh, short-tempered. But there are moments – frequent, odd little moments – where it feels a little like there’s something ancient looking out through Edward’s eyes.

Never in his life would Roy have dreamed of asking any child to recreate the scene of their trauma, but Edward had shouldered the burden, and asked for help when he needed to without shame or the bravado Roy had come to expect. He’d acted like a soldier, and he’d turned a body inside out – and vaporised parts of it – without faltering more than once. Only after it was done had he thrown up and started shaking. Roy had gotten him out of that room quickly, but he’d hesitated to take Edward to join Riza and Alphonse straight away. And that had apparently been the right choice, because after a few minutes, Edward had let out a shuddery breath, leaned against Roy’s side briefly, and muttered ‘Thanks’ before heading out to reassure his brother.

That’s the other disturbing thing about Edward. For some inexplicable reason, he’s decided he trusts Roy. He just up and decided to trust the military dog who’s shady enough to recruit an eleven year old. And if Edward ever really acted his age, or showed even the smallest inclination for naivety, Roy might put it down to a childish trust in authority figures. But Edward uniformly rebels against authority, and makes no secret of the fact that he dislikes the military immensely. And yet… and yet he trusts Roy.

It just doesn’t make any sense.

Think of the devil, and he shall appear. As if his thoughts had summoned him, Roy hears the characteristic thump-stamp-thump-stamp-thump-BANG-thunk of Edward’s return to the office. “Must you always kick the door like that, FullMetal?” Roy sighs, because it’s easier to complain about the abuse the poor door is suffering than to think about his mother’s voice saying ‘he’s a lot more grown-up than he looks’ and wondering if she saw that ancient thing behind Edward’s eyes, too.

“Fuck off, bastard. Hey guys. We brought coffee. Didn’t know what you all like, so there’s some packets of sugar and devil-juice, too. Whatever.” Edward announces while Alphonse shuffles through the door sheepishly and deposits half a dozen to-go cups of life-blood from the good café two streets away on the corner of Havoc’s desk. Predictably, the entire team descends on the non-military non-cafeteria coffee like a swarm of locusts. Edward yelps and scrambles to grab two of the cups before getting the hell out of dodge.

“Hey, you drinking both of those, Boss?” Havoc asks, giving Ed a dubiously concerned look.

“No.” Edward insists, glowering without much heat behind it. “This one’s for the bastard.” He explains, lifting one of the cups in the air to indicate, and then stomping over to Roy’s desk, depositing the coffee on top of the report Roy was reading, and then throwing himself down onto the couch like he always does.

“What if I want milk in it?” Roy challenges dryly.

Edward gives him the stink-eye, opens his mouth, and then, curiously, falters before whatever retort is clearly on the tip of his tongue can fall out of his mouth. He grimaces, hides the expression behind his cup, and only answers once he’s swallowed. “But it’ll clash with the aconite.” He snarks.

Roy really wants to know what Edward was going to say that he thought that was an improvement on, but he decides not to ask. “Attempting to poison your superior officer already, FullMetal?” He asks instead, while very pointedly lifting the cup and taking an easy sip. It does taste very good without any extra condiments. It is also very definitely not plain black coffee. It’s minty, and chocolatey, and decadent. Roy takes another sip and savours it, feeling more awake already.

“I know it takes the average grunt a couple of years to reach that stage of fuck it, but you know me; I’m an overachiever.” Edward sallies back without missing a beat, this time.

“If that’s the case, I’m afraid the rest of my team must be slacking.” Roy murmurs, amused.

“Except Hawkeye.” Edward grins from behind his mug.

“Speaking of which!” Roy begins, sitting up and leaning forward over his work with a show of alacrity that makes Edward snort coffee out his nose. While he’s spluttering and cursing Roy’s ancestors to hell and back again, Roy digs up the forms Edward has yet again failed to fill out. “You do actually need to fill these out, FullMetal.”

“Fuck you.” Edward retorts, but he takes the papers anyway. Of course, instead of doing anything as sensible as fetching a pen, Roy sees Edward’s eyes flick down to the bottom left corner. A grin spreads across his face. “Got bored in a meeting, did you?” Edward snickers.

“It’s not my fault none of the brass are pretty enough to be properly captivating.” Roy fires back flippantly.

“The little horns are a nice touch.” Edward compliments through a shit-eating grin. The smile slips sideways suddenly, into something strangely soft, and that ancient thing is back in his eyes. “Maybe you should quit the military and take up art instead.” His voice is still full of cheerful irreverence, no matter how much it doesn’t match his expression anymore.

“Unfortunately, I think I’d get distracted.” Roy sighs melodramatically.

Edward rolls his eyes, but he still looks… oddly soft. Fond, maybe “Idiot. It’s actually stupid fun to alchemise paint. Apparently it makes the pigment brighter, too, so, hey, win-win.”

Roy raises his eyebrows. “If I remember correctly, that was something of a fashion in Aerugo several hundred years ago. Entertaining dreams of being a renaissance artist, FullMetal?”

Edward startles, looking for a moment as if the conversation just threw him a curveball, instead of a perfectly reasonable continuation. Then he shakes himself and snorts. “No. It’d suit you, though, bastard. You’ve already got the melodrama down.” He mocks. Then he puts the back of his hand against his forehead and pretends to swoon. “Oh, I just can’t work like this! The angles are wrong! The colours are dull! It’s just boring. Won’t someone come and massage my shoulders and pass me the wine that’s just three inches away from my fingertips?”

The entire team is roaring with laughter. “Well,” Roy muses, fighting his own snicker, “if the only other person in the room was the model for my painting, that sounds like an excellent excuse to get a beautiful person within touching distance.” He points out.

There’s more laughter, but Edward goes a little wide-eyed and pink-cheeked before he joins in. “See? I was right.” He huffs between chuckles. “You’d fit right in.”

Riza clears her throat. A glance tells Roy that even though she’s trying to look stern, there’s a smile tugging at one corner of her lips. “Unfortunately, this isn’t medieval Aerugo, and some people have work to do.” She reminds them.

Roy groans.

Alphonse watches his brother leaf through the multitude of books he’d borrowed from the East City Library, feeling… disconcerted. There’s something going on that Ed’s not telling him about, and it’s got something to do with Colonel Mustang. At first, Alphonse had missed it, because the meeting had been so brief, and he’d been in his own slump, but afterwards, after how easily his brother had trusted a scheming military dog with Nina, he remembered that Ed hadn’t pulled out of his strange dissociative state until after Mustang had appeared.

And now the coffee thing.

Alphonse had been the one to suggest bringing coffee on their way into the office, and Ed hadn’t seemed to care until Alphonse had started fretting about not knowing what everyone liked. Then he’d stepped in and ordered one chocolate-coffee with extra sugar – for himself, Alphonse knew – five plain black coffees – for the team, Alphonse guessed, except… – and one mint-chocolate-coffee.

“Who’s that for?” Alphonse asked.

“Colonel Bastard, of course.” Ed said, as if it was obvious.

Alphonse had let it stand, played along, because most of the time, the worst thing to do was to confront Brother over something he wanted to ignore. Then he got stubborn and ignored it for even longer than was sensible just to prove he could handle it, or some other such nonsense. So he bit his tongue, and watched. And the thing that really, really bothered Alphonse was that it had been so obvious that the Colonel had not been expecting anything special, but he’d savoured it. He’d liked it. And Ed just shouldn’t know, off-hand and easy, what sort of coffee the Colonel prefers.

But, of course, Brother is being stubborn about it, so Alphonse isn’t quite sure what to do. He could leave it, let Ed explain in his own time, but… but the problem with that is that Alphonse really isn’t comfortable with how much Ed trusts the Colonel without knowing why. So he’s going to have to ask, and hope Brother doesn’t clam up about it even more.

“Brother?” Alphonse asks, and then waits for confirmation that he’s been heard. He knows what Ed can get like when he’s reading.

“Mm?” Ed hums, and then, when there’s nothing more forthcoming, drags himself a little further out of the book, enough to look up and actually give Alphonse his attention. “What’s up, Al?”

“Why do you trust the Colonel so much?” Alphonse asks, bluntly, because Ed’s reaction to such an attack should be very informative.

Sure enough, Ed looks confused for just a moment, before his eyes widen with that ‘oh damn I’m caught’ sort of look that still makes Alphonse ache because usually only Mum could inspire that expression in Brother. With everyone else he just got belligerent. Except now, after everything, it seems Alphonse can manage it, too. “What do you mean?” Ed deflects. Poorly.

Alphonse does his best to radiate disappointment at Ed’s terrible lying. “You know exactly what I mean.” He huffs.

And Ed deflates. “Yeah. It’s just… it’s- it’s complicated, Al, and I- I don’t want you to think-”

“Think what?” Alphonse presses, but gently. Now that Ed’s talking, the last thing he wants to do is put Ed on the defensive.

“That I’m- that you’re- not important to me.”

Alphonse takes a moment to process that, to parse it from Edward-speak into something actually coherent, and feels something maybe like incredulity bubble through his- well, through his soul, he supposes. “Brother… do you have a crush on the Colonel?” He asks in disbelief. Ed blinks once, twice, and then, unbelievably, laughs. “Brother!” Alphonse whines, indignant. “Don’t laugh! It’s a fair question, when you start saying things like that!”

“No, no, I’m not- You’re right, I’m not laughing at you, Al, I swear.” Ed snickers.

“Then what’s funny?” Alphonse asks, relaxing a little.

“So, okay, that wasn’t quite what I was getting at, but it’s as good a segue as any, so; Al,” Ed says, very seriously, even if he is still trying not to laugh, “Al, Roy’s my soulmate.”

Alphonse has to take a moment to process that, too. Because Ed doesn’t believe in things like soulmates, or love at first sight, or, really, romance at all. So, if he’s not using the word in the romantic sense, then… Well, they do have empirical evidence that souls exist, so… “What do you- No, I mean; How do you know that?” Alphonse corrects himself, because he’s got an idea what Brother means, he just has no idea how Ed came to that conclusion.

“Because-” Ed begins, and then falters, looking faintly overwhelmed. Then he scrubs his flesh hand over his face and sets his jaw. It’s a familiar expression, a ‘we’re going to get to the bottom of this’ expression that reassures Alphonse more than anything. “Because I remember him. He’s the only thing that stays the same.” Ed states.

Alphonse knows that’s his cue to ask questions until that ridiculously incomprehensible answer makes sense. He considers all sorts of questions. ‘What do you mean’ is too vague, and ‘remember him from when’ is only going to get him a rephrasing of what Ed’s already said – ‘from always, Al, I just said that’ – so instead, he asks; “Stays the same through what?”

“My lives.” Ed answers, watching Alphonse carefully, almost warily.

“Your-” Alphonse stops himself from just repeating that, because Ed knows what he said, he meant what he said, so parroting it back to him isn’t going to help. “You’re talking about… reincarnation? Recycling souls through multiple lives?”

“Yeah.”

“And you… you’re saying you remember your previous lives?”

“Yeah.”

Alphonse is not an idiot. He is, in fact, a genius. “Since the gate?”

Ed looks relieved. “Since the gate.” He confirms. “It’s- I don’t understand why it happened to me and not to you, because you went through the Gate, too, but… It’s as if when it pulled me apart, it… exposed all the stuff that I’m not supposed to remember, all the parts of me that aren’t… me.” Ed’s hand migrates from scrubbing his face to raking through his hair and messing up his braid.

Well, that actually explains so much. Like how Granny had been behaving around Ed before they left. She’d still been nannying Alphonse, even though he was six foot tall now, but she’d treated Ed like somehow what they’d gone through had made him an adult. Because, in a way, it kind of had. Or, at least, it had woken up the parts of Ed that had been an adult before. “Oh! Is that Klaus person from one of your past lives?” He exclaims in a moment of sudden understanding.

Ed snorts. “Yeah, Al. Klaus was Roy. Or… Roy was Klaus, once.”

“Oh!” Alphonse breaths, clarity dawning, and then, just as quickly, becoming obscured again by confusion. “Wait, how do you know that?”

“I don’t know.” Ed admits grumpily. “It’s just… I looked at him, and I recognised him. I knew him. That’s like- Al, that’s like someone asking you ‘but how do you know that Ed’s your brother?’”

“Because you look the same.” Alphonse answered at once, even though he knew that wasn’t the whole truth.

“Well, yeah, but I don’t have to look identical to the last time you saw me for you to recognise me. You recognise my voice, and my gestures, and my- my me-ness.” Ed insists, hands gesturing vaguely in the air. Alphonse silently judges him for his abuse of the Amestrian language. “Shut up, you know what I mean.” Ed huffs.

“I do.” Alphonse capitulates. He lets the silence settle for a moment, thinking carefully about everything Ed’s said so far. It’s hard to believe, hard to wrap his mind around, but he doesn’t not believe Ed. Too much of the weirdness can be explained this way for him to just dismiss it. Still, he’d like a little more confirmation. “You told Granny, didn’t you?” He asks slowly.

“Yeah. I figured- I figured since she’s old as dirt, I could maybe convince her by, you know, sharing knowledge of the time and shit.” Ed explains. “Turns out, I actually met her in my last life.”

Alphonse is going to have to call Granny and confirm, because that sounds like a pretty huge coincidence. “Who- I mean, what were you like?” He asks carefully, wanting more information for Granny to corroborate.

“It’s fine, you can ask ‘who were you’” Ed assures him. Alphonse huffs, and Ed gets on with actually answering the question. “I was an engineer. Actually helped invent the first car. Sort of, they didn’t really look all that much like what we’ve got now, and the engines in cars today are pretty different, but- Yeah.”

“An engineer.” Alphonse repeats.

“…Yeah?” Ed replies, warily. “Al, what?”

“So, basically a mechanic.” Alphonse rephrases.

Ed pulls a face. “Sort of. I mean, I could fix the damn things, so that’s what I was hauled out to the front to do, but I was designing the things, not-”

“I’m telling Winry.” Alphonse informs him.

Ed’s expression of outraged betrayal is sweet indeed. “Don’t you dare!”

“I’m telling Winry that you invented engines in your last life, but somehow you still can’t understand even the basics of how your own automail even works-”

“You traitor!” Ed howls, throwing a book at Alphonse. Al catches it and judges his brother for throwing books. Ed slumps down in his chair in a huff, arms crossed and scowl firmly in place. “And I can too understand the basics. Just because I’m not an automail genius as well as an alchemy genius-” Alphonse snickers, and Ed grumbles imprecations under his breath.

The last thing Izumi was expecting today was a phone call from one of the Elric boys. It’s been so long by now that getting a call from them is less an expected social courtesy and more a cause for concern, but she’s still glad to hear from them. She’d worried, a little, when months rolled by without hearing anything from them after they went back home.

So when Sig leans around the door to the living room, carrying the phone in one hand and the receiver in mid-air in the other, and says “It’s Alphonse,” she sits bolt upright with a mixture of pleasure and panic. Sig offers her the receiver, and she more or less snatches it, which makes him smile faintly as he puts the phone down on the table, the cord pulling almost too taut through the doorway and turning into a massive tripping hazard.

“Alphonse?” Izumi questions, bringing the receiver to her ear.

“Teacher!” Alphonse greets, bright and pleased, and Izumi relaxes a little. If Alphonse can sound that cheerful, it’s at least not an immediate disaster. “How have you been? I’m so sorry not to have called before, that was rude of us.”

Izumi smiles, even as she narrows her eyes at nothing. An apology, but no explanation, which feels like Alphonse’s subtle attempt at a dodge. “I’ve been fine. Same as ever. What about you? And Edward? What have you boys been up to?”

“We’re good. We’re fine.” Alphonse says quickly. Too quickly. “We haven’t been up to much at all! Just- just studying. Alchemy.”

“Uh-huh.” Izumi drawls, making sure that every ounce of her deeply unimpressed scepticism comes through across the telephone lines.

“Which is actually what I called you about!” Alphonse presses on. “I have a question, and I’m not sure where to even begin looking for an answer, and- and, well, I thought you might be able to help. At least point me in a sensible direction.”

Izumi settles back into the big squishy armchair more comfortably. She’ll play along for the moment, but she’s certainly not going to forget that Alphonse was clearly hiding something from her. “Well, I’ll do my best.” She offers.

“So, I’ve been, um, looking into theoretical alchemy a bit lately. Really, very, massively theoretical alchemy.” Alphonse insists. Oh, Izumi has a bad feeling about this, but she ‘mm-hm’s into the phone to encourage him on. “And, well, a bit of philosophy, too, actually. Just… idle research, you know, except- Well-” He stumbles. Embarrassed, as well as hiding something, Izumi thinks.

“Spit it out, Alphonse.” Izumi encourages.

“I’ve been looking into the theory of reincarnation.” Alphonse blurts out.

Izumi goes cold. “Have you?” She asks, and she’s surprised at how even her voice sounds.

“Y-yes. And, see… I was… well, I was wondering, purely hypothetically, you see, if- All the resources I can find talk about the cycle of rebirth, of souls re-entering the world as a new person, but… there’s nothing on… on whether souls are a finite resource, or if, say, for example, new souls might be being born, too, souls that- that don’t have any past lives.”

Izumi might not be a genius of the same calibre as the Elric brothers, but she’s not stupid. For Alphonse to be asking such a specific ‘hypothetical’ question, he and at least one other person must have committed taboo and spoken about it. They must have compared experiences, for Alphonse to be worried about the fact that one of them had had a vastly different experience to the other.

And where one Elric is doing unspeakably foolish things, the other is bound to be close behind.

Taking a deep breath, Izumi decides that there’s no way she’s getting into this over the phone. She is going to need to see them in person to give them the thrashing they deserve. “Alphonse.” She says slowly, and hears Alphonse suck in a sharp breath. “Where exactly are you and Edward right now?”

“U-um… in Central City?”

“Which hotel?”

That was definitely a guilty ‘urk’ sound he just made. “The… um, the Military Barracks?”

…She’ll kick their asses for that, too. Fuck everything, but they’re only just barely teenagers. They’re so damn young, what the bloody hell are they doing in the Military Barracks?

“I’ll be there tomorrow. Don’t. Go. Anywhere.”

“But-!”

Izumi hangs up the phone with a satisfying clatter-clang. Then she spends several minutes just sitting there, glaring at it and measuring her breathing to tamp her temper down into something that will survive an overnight train-ride without burning itself out.

“Where are we going?” Sig asks softly.

Izumi turns to him, takes a moment to really just look at him, to soak up his beloved features, and look past beautiful brown eyes to the soul beneath. The soul that has looked at her and loved her through blue eyes and green eyes and grey eyes and black eyes and red eyes and hazel eyes in a variety of different combinations. There was one time she remembers he had one blue eye and one eye that was split neatly down the middle between blue and brown.

“What are you remembering?” Sig asks, smiling and reaching up to cup the side of her face.

“Creta. Sometime in the middle of the sixth century. The day I met a beautiful blacksmith with half a brown eye. You were so caught up staring at me you nearly dropped an anvil on your foot.” Izumi tells him, remembering the moment with perfect clarity. “Of course, I was so caught up staring right back at you that I walked clear into an iron beam. You offered to fix the new dent in my helmet for free.”

“Of course.” Sig agrees, nodding as if that was the only thing that made sense. Izumi grins, but the moment fades quickly in the face of the painful reality. “What is it?”

“The Elrics performed human transmutation.” Izumi tells him, and Sig’s expression falls into sorrowful, solemn lines. “Alphonse called to ask about reincarnation, and why someone might not remember their past lives.”

Sig sighs, and gives her a look that she knows means he’s wishing she wouldn’t go haring off across the country to kick the asses of her troublesome students, but he doesn’t say it, and Izumi loves him so much for that. “Where should I get tickets to?” He asks, instead.

“Central City Center.”

Chris is wiping down table-tops in preparation for the early evening rush when one of the last people she expected to see in her bar walks in. She’d have been more surprised if the Fuhrer himself walked in, but not by much, because she sees a lot of military men in her establishment. But Edward Elric, the FullMetal Alchemist, doesn’t look like he feels out of place at all.

“Edward.” The woman who follows him in growls. “This is a brothel.”

The boy isn’t chastised at all, he just rolls his eyes. They both look like they’ve been in a brawl, and though the kid definitely looks worse for wear, they both have the sort of aura that screams ‘you should see the other guy’. “It’s a bar, too, Teacher. You said you wanted a drink, didn’t you?” Ah, so the woman must be Izumi Curtis, the infamous alchemy teacher of the genius Elric boys. Chris watches her with a little more interest, assessing her. She’s a handsome woman, strong and clearly living an active life, although there’s a touch of pallor to her skin that makes her wonder if she’s ill or not eating right. “Hey, Madame Christmas! You open for business?” Elric calls.

“Well, if it isn’t the little architect.” Chris drawls, which gets her a sharp-edged grin from the boy. “You’re still too young to be a customer.” She reminds him, even as she heads back behind the bar.

“If I’m old enough to kill for the state, I think I’m old enough for half a glass of alcohol, thanks.” Elric retorts promptly, holding up his State Alchemist’s watch. Which is a damn good point, really, and Chris knows her boy will get her out of trouble if anyone does complain.

So she nods acceptingly, and gestures at the well-stocked wall of alcohol behind the bar. “Pick your poison, kid.” And then she glances at Curtis to include her in the question about drinks as well without ruining the banter.

“Don’t suppose you’ve got any Drachman bottled water?” Curtis asks a little wistfully.

Chris honestly loves it when she can surprise people, and it’s always sweeter when it’s the sort of surprise that makes them light up the way Curtis does when she ducks down to pull the – smuggled – bottle of clear, potent liquor out from it’s hiding place.

“Huh.” The kid says, eyeing his teacher sideways for a moment while Chris pours Curtis a generous glass and sets it in front of her. “Can you make a hot mint chocolate toddy? Without the cream?” He asks hopefully.

“Child’s play.” Chris confirms, and sets about to mixing it for him.

“So why here?” Curtis asks while she’s busy. So many people seem to think that ‘busy’ means ‘deaf’, it’s another of those things Chris really, really loves about her job.

“Why d’you think?” Elric retorts. Curtis grunts an acknowledgement and falls silent. A covert glance shows Chris that she’s glaring into the vodka like it holds the secrets of the universe. “Teacher…” Elric begins, and for the first time in Chris’s hearing, he sounds tentative, nervous. Curtis looks up at him, dryly prompting, and Elric grimaces and shifts on his seat. “How much do you remember?”

“Two dozen, more or less.” Curtis replies, and knocks back half her drink.

“Shit.” Elric swears, wide-eyed.

“How much do you remember?” Curtis retorts.

“Just ten.” Elric replies. “I guess that’s a point in favour of Al’s theory of an expanding source, then.”

Curtis makes a dubious noise, and Elric’s eyebrows hike up. Chris is painfully curious about what the hell they’re talking about, but it sounds as if they’re talking in code, so she’s unlikely to figure out what they actually mean unless they get a lot more careless. To help them along to that end, she serves up Elric’s toddy. He grins his thanks, and takes a sip. His eyes flutter closed, and an expression of pure nostalgia flickers across his face.

“Maybe, maybe not.” Curtis says once Elric’s done savouring his drink. She’s watching him with a very maternal combination of sorrow and pride, but the moment he looks at her, it’s gone, hidden behind practical irritability. “I have a theory about that, but since for a long time I was the only one stupid enough to have done something like that-” Elric cringes down in his seat, thoroughly chastised. “-I haven’t had anyone to test it against.”

Elric clears his throat sheepishly, but he sounds perfectly composed when he says “Lay it on me, then.”

“I think it only goes back to the latest one that’s familiar enough for you to latch onto. Think of the first time. Does it parallel your entire life in weirdly specific ways?” Curtis asks cryptically.

Or, well, it’s clearly only cryptic to Chris, because Elric’s expression turns open and slack with dawning revelation. “Shit- I mean, I’d noticed the sort of- the superficial- but-” He stops, and his left hand goes up to grab his right shoulder. His eyes are glazed over like he’s watching a memory play out so clearly he can’t see the bar at all. “He literally even saved me the same fucking way.”

Curtis snorts. “Yeah. Tell me about it.”

Elric startles, drawn back to the present, and shoots his teacher a teasing grin. “Did you drop your bear again?” He asks through a snicker.

“Yup.” Curtis confirms, smiling like a woman in love.

Elric laughs again, this time less teasing and more fond, and shakes his head. “I guessed it would be Sig.” He muses, which sounds like a non-sequitur, but Chris isn’t that surprised to hear the woman’s husband mentioned after the look that had been on her face a moment ago. Clearly, Curtis isn’t surprised, either, because she snorts.

“Obviously.” She drawls, and finishes off her drink. Chris refills it without needing to be asked. Then she looks over at Elric, expression turning serious. “Who is it, for you?”

“Mustang.” Elric answers, like it’s simple, like it’s easy, like there’s no other answer in the world he could possibly give. Chris keeps her expression blank out of sheer force of will, and wonders if Roy’s figured out that Elric is hopelessly in love with him yet. Curtis frowns, like she recognises the name, but she’s not sure why. Elric elaborates; “The Flame Alchemist.”

Curtis’s nose wrinkles in acute disgust, Elric glowers back, and slowly, the teacher’s expression twists into something grudgingly accepting. Then she makes a disgusted noise. “I suppose he can’t be a complete shit-stain, then. But the military, Ed-!” She huffs.

“Hey! It’s not like I joined cause I like them.” Elric shoots back. “And besides, you’ll like him.” He asserts confidently.

“I will, will I?”

“I’ve fucked over the Amestrian military for him twice now. Three times, if you count this latest round.” Elric tells her, like that’s the sort of thing you can just say in public. Idiot. But, still, nice to know he’s on Roy’s side in this. Curtis looks mildly impressed, too, and a bit amused. “Fucking irony. Or- maybe not, maybe it’s just synchronicity.”

“Yeah, it’s good at that.”

“You want to know the real shit piece of irony?” Elric asks, mood dropping into a wry sort of agony. Curtis turns to face him, frowning in concern, and Elric glances at her before looking back at his drink. “The real shit pieces of irony, actually.”

“Tell me.” Curtis orders.

“Amestrian Military burned down Valentino’s bar. With Val still inside.”

That’s… Irony is an interesting word for it. Chris might have picked tragedy, but irony works, she supposes. She feels a twist of sympathy for Elric, and if it had been her student-nephew-son telling her something like that, she might have patted his shoulder and reminded him to keep moving forward, but Curtis doesn’t do either of those. Instead, she laughs. It’s a slightly sick sounding laugh, dark and bitter, but it’s a laugh. Elric clearly doesn’t mind, though, because he snorts once, and buries his nose into his spiked hot chocolate.

“And the other?” Curtis prompts once she’s done.

“Malka was a mullah.”

Elric knows – knew – an Ishvalan. An Ishvalan holy sage, if Chris remembers her Ishvalan right. Well, isn’t that a kick in the teeth. Still, it hasn’t stopped him falling for Roy, so Chris dares to hope this isn’t the disaster it could’ve been. “Shit.” Curtis breathes, wincing.

“Yeah.” Elric mutters, expression twisting.

“I hope you were gentle when you told him about that one.”

Elric chokes on the sip of toddy he was taking, splutters, and turns to stare at his teacher in acute, disbelieving horror. “I haven’t told him! What the fuck?! Why would you think I’ve told him any of this?!” He yelps, and for just about the first time in this whole conversation, actually sounds his age.

Curtis looks shocked by that reaction. “Why would I- Edward, why the fuck haven’t you told him?!”

The look Elric gives her says loud and clear that he’s wondering when she bumped her head badly enough to cause brain damage. “Oh, yeah, sure, because that’s exactly what anyone wants to hear from their fourteen year old subordinate.” And they were back to talking about Elric being in love with Roy again. An interesting segue from knowing an Ishvalan, but Curtis doesn’t seem thrown, and Chris supposes she can understand why Elric might have connected the two so thoroughly in his mind. Hard to explain why the one hadn’t made him hate Roy without admitting to the other.

“You’re more than that.” Curtis points out.

“Yeah, but he doesn’t know that.” Elric retorts furiously.

“Yes, he does.” Curtis counters, factual and completely certain. It takes Chris aback, never mind how it manages to startle Elric out of his temper. He blinks at her, brow knotting in uncertainty. But he clearly trusts his teacher a great deal, because he doesn’t argue, even though he’d have every right to demand how the fuck she could possibly know that. “He might not know that he knows, but he does know, Edward.” At Elric’s continued bewilderment, she rolls her eyes. “Oh, come on. Haven’t you ever had a conversation with him where he says exactly the right thing at exactly the right moment, and you’re left thinking ‘It’s like you were there’?”

Elric’s staring at her wide-eyed again. Slowly, he nods. “We were talking about Fiametta Vittori.”

“The Aerugonian painter?” Curtis echoes, surprised and impressed. “The one famous for painting all the-” She stops, expression falling into slightly pained lines. She doesn’t need to finish, Chris knows exactly what sort of paintings Vittori was famous for. She’s got a few reproductions on the walls upstairs, after all. “Edward…!” Curtis groans.

Elric grins mischievously. “She was a perv. She and Roy would have gotten on like house on fire.” They both paused at that, eyeing each other, Elric with expectant glee, and Curtis with slowly-dawning outrage at the pun. Then they collapse into slightly tipsy snickering. That’s the last piece of dubious sense Chris hears from them for the rest of the evening. The bar gets busy, but she keeps half an ear on them, but all they seem to be talking about is increasingly bizarre historical ramblings. If it’s a code, it’s a damn good one. Chris can’t make any sense of it at all.

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keruworld · 5 years ago

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I was tagged by my @blackthornhiei. Thank you dear, better do it when i can.

Rules: Answer the questions and tag 20 (however many you really want) in return.

1. Nickname: Keru

2. Zodiac: Gemini

3. Height: I dont remember well, but i think 1.65 mt.

4. Age: 31

5. Time: 11:00 pm

6. Fav Bands/Artists: Spyair, Flumpool, Radwimps, Nell etc... i tend to listen music of japanese bands or artist, usually rock, alittle of pop, there are some few korean bands that i like... and chinese too.

7. Song stuck in my head: Asobi asobase opening (i was watching that anime with my brother).

8. Last Movie I saw: I think it was Godzilla King of Monsters.

9. Last Thing I Googled: Probably was a word for write it correctly. Im not so good with orthography.

10. Other Blogs: I don’t have other blogs.

11. Do I Get Asks: I dont get so much... but Im open to it.

12. Why I Chose My Username: Because my nickname.

13. Following: I usually follow toku/dramas/actors related blogs, friends and artist.

14. Average Anmount Of Sleep: Generally 8 hours. (if i dont i become sleepy all day)

15. Lucky Number: i don't know if is a lucky number, but i like the eight. looks like the infinity symbol.

16. What I’m Wearing: comfy t shirt and leggins.

17. Dream Job: Its difficult but i guess i'm living my dream job. I'm trying to form an independent publisher of comics here in my country, were there are not a culture of reading, more less a culture of comics. I don’t know if im gona make it, or if is the most smarter thing to do... but i will die trying for sure.

18. Dream Trip: Japan, to a concert of spyair... and making a tour to toei’s studios and Tsuburaya’s.

19. Favourite Food: Pupusas and pizza.

20: Play Instruments: None.

21. Favourite Song: Probably one of Spyair. I like the 99% of their songs, but if i have to choose, it must be Bautiful Days.

22. Play(ed) any Sports: Im not good in sports, but in the school i liked to play basketball.

23. Hair Colour: dark brown, but i have tinted my hair into red brown.

24. Eye Colour: Dark brown eyes

25. Most Iconic Song: I really don’t know what it means by ICONIC, but may be La Calle de las Sirenas of an old mexican band. When i was little i loved that song and i still love it.

26. Languages You Speak: Spanish and English (may be a little of japanese)

27. Random Fact: I like some bollywood movies, choreographies, dances, hindu fashion. And i love hindu mythology. I grown with their stories and ideas. So they feel like home to me. They are awesome. I consider India my second mother country beacuse of that.

28. Describe Yourself as Asthetics/things: mangas/comics, toku related stuff and drawings?!

I tag @narashikari @diamond-night @iris-14cheonsa @philipsgaiamemories and everyone that want to do it.

#tag game

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writer-at-heart96 · 5 years ago

Text

New start - Richard Madden fanfic

Summary: Elize goes to London before deciding what she'll do with her life after losing her job, but then Life has a way of throwing curveball in your life. join in as Elise undergoes her curveball.

******

Elise Martens had gotten the job of her life, well temporarily, the store she used to work at had closed and she'd lost her job. Her solution was to look back to the UK where she had gotten a job for a summer a few years ago.

This time it wasn't as an Au pair though, don't her wrong, she loved children, but taking care of them day and night wasn't something for her quite yet. So now she had gotten a job as house/dog sitter. It suited her much better than the last one.

Why she didn't stay in Britain to find a permanent job was beyond her cause every time she came here it was like she'd discovered the piece that had always been lost. But she knew the answer, having been raised by her grandparents, they hated her going away. It had been once again a fight for her to be allowed to come to London again for a few weeks. She simply didn't have the effort to keep fighting them if she were to move to London permanently. So she would do with seven weeks and then return to being unhappy and leaving behind the having found piece again.

"You two be good, okay?" Elise smiled as she crouched down to pet the heads of the two dogs she was caring for. Buster and Toby, a Labrador and Weimaraner, both gorgeous but they certainly kept her on her toes. When she wasn't walking them, she could do her own thing, which meant going to museums, walking the streets. She loved walking along the Thames or in the parks and get inspiration for her many stories she worked on. Her dream was to someday become an Author, but no matter how much she wanted it, she knew it would be a very hard dream to accomplish, but she didn't give up the hope.

picking up her handbag, checking if everything was inside, she went out the front door and lock the door after her. It certainly felt like she lived in London already is she did that, she had an entire house at her disposal and two dogs to care for, despite missing her own little one.

slinging her handbag over her shoulder, she dropped the keys inside it, just as she tucked the second band over her shoulder she felt herself run into something hard.

"I'm sorry Miss, I didn't watch where I was going." a gruff Scottish voice said as a hand caught her arm, the only thing keeping her from falling. "It's alright, I wasn't either," she reassured him with a small smile, looking up she was struck with the most beautiful blue eyes she'd ever seen. shaking her head a little, to clear her thoughts she said: "Thanks."

"Don't worry about it." he waved off with a grin, she couldn't help but return. "Aren't Michael and Jessica home or did they move? I haven't been here in a bit." he smiled with a nod to the house she was staying in. "No, they're in Africa for seven more weeks, I came over to house and dog-sit," she told him with a smile.

"Well, in that case, I'm Richard." he introduced himself with a huge grin as he extended his hands towards her. "I'm Elise," she told him as she accepted his hand.

"Elise?" he asked a bit confused, "not from here?" he added, his head tilted to the side. "no, Belgium," she confirmed with a small laugh and nod of her head. "Well, if it hadn't been for your name, you'd have me fooled." he pointed out with a grin. "Probably not." she disagreed with a small chuckle as she tucked a lock of her chestnut hair behind her ear.

"Anyway, I better get going if I want to get something done today," she told him with a smile, looking back up at him. "Plans?" he questioned. "I'll see where the day takes me," she told him with a small shrug of her shoulders.

"Well, I'm sure it can be lonely all alone here and without knowing anybody, why don't I show you around. I don't have anything planned anyway," he suggested with a huge grin. "My grandparents thought me not to speak to a stranger." she chuckled in a bit of a nervous manner, could she go in on his invitation. She'd only met the guy, but god was he gorgeous and kind. She didn't get any bad vibes from him and didn't want to turn and run for the hills, like with many another man she met.

"we're not really strangers are we, we're neighbours for the next seven weeks, if I heard correctly and we know each other's names," he stated with an inviting smile as his blueish eyes sucked her in. God, it was like looking into the ocean or something, she had nothing to compare the colour with as the sunlight made them have all sorts of colours.

"That true." she smiled with a nod of her head. "why not?" she agreed with a small shrug, deciding that she would keep her promise to herself. she'd promised herself that she would be as spontaneous as possible and stop being a worry bee.

"My Lady." he chuckled softly as he moved aside and held his arm for her to go first. With a small giggle, they started walking side by side as they both pulled on their sunglasses. "So what does a pretty girl from Belgium do here in London?" he asked as they made their way to the housing complex they lived in.

"The store I worked in closed three weeks ago and I didn't really think I could just go back and do another boring job like that. I came here when I was 18 to work as an Au pair, I returned to go to college, that didn't work out so I started working. Now the store closed and I figured why not come back here for a little while." she told him, ending with a small shrug of her shoulders.

"Sounds like an interesting life." he chuckled beside her. "Anything but, believe me." she told him with a small shake of her head. "it can't be that bad," he stated with a grin at her.

"my entire family say I lock myself into the world that doesn't exist, I don't go out and I don't do anything that other my age could possibly find interesting," Elize told him, looking up at him.

"21," she told him, seeing the question on his face, seeing him nod, she was certain she had guessed right. "Still, coming to London all on your own first at 18 and now at 21 seems pretty bold and not boring," he told her in an obvious tone.

"I guess not." Elize agreed with a tilted head. "Since I came here three years ago, I've always felt at home here for some reason," she told him in a tone that said she didn't understand and couldn't explain the reason why.

"But enough about me, what does a Scottish lad like you do here in London?" she asked him with a grin of her own. "Work," he told her with a smile on his face.

"Have you been living in London for a long time?" she asked him with a tilted head. "about ten years, but my job takes me kind of everywhere," he told her, circling her finger next to his head. "You been over the world?" she asked, suddenly intrigued by this stunning man beside her. why would he even be interested in her, she was anything but. She wasn't slim or anything, she had curves in the right and wrong places.

"Italy, South Africa, Canada, States, Bit of everywhere in the world," he told her, getting a bit wary of her intriguing and striking eyes. It seemed that she had no idea who he was and for once it was refreshing to just be Richard Madden, not Richard from Cinderella or Game of Thrones.

She was refreshing, a beautiful oval face, dimples and gorgeous, blue greyish eyes, depending on the light. yes, she was a bit rounder to the woman he was normally grown used to, but she was gorgeous in her own way.

"must have been amazing." she smiled in a small wistful sigh. "You been?" he asked, his head tilted to the side and he wished he could see those stunning eyes hiding beneath those sunglasses. "No, well I've been to Denmark on an exchange program with school about 5 years ago and to Greece on my senior year trip, but further, no," she told him with a small disappointed sigh and he could see that she wished to see the world.

"You want to travel?" he half stated, half asked. "Of course." she immediately said. "See the beauty both men and nature has created, getting to see the different cultures and meet people, much like you. I love learning and I find that there something to learn from everyone you meet," she told him with a knowledgeable and wise tone. "True." he agreed, his head inclined in a fascinated manner, who was this woman?

"What's your top five?" he asked with a curious tone. "Oh God, I could never pick out five," she told him with a small chuckle. "Then one's you'd like to go to first," he suggested, curious to see which ones she'd like to pick.

"Africa, Americas, Asia, Oceania and Europe," she told him with a small giggle and he couldn't help but throw his head back in laughter. Oh, she was witty and had a sense of humour as well. he liked that.

"Well I've been to all," he told her with a grin. "Really?" she asked in a curious manner. "Really," he confirmed with a small chuckle as he brushed the side of her arm as he moved aside to let other people pass.

"So what to do you say, lunch?" he asked when they started walking down a street with cafe's left and right. "Any suggestions?" she asked him with a tilted head.

"Yes, I know just the place," he told her as he took her wrist and started pulling her through the quite busy street as if he was in a hurry. His head was kept down as if he wanted to shield it. letting out a small chuckle and shaking her head, he paused and looked back.

"What?" he asked in a mischievous manner. "It's like you're running from something," she told him with a small smile. "Didn't you know, you've just entered a James Bond movie," he whispered near her ear, letting a shiver run down her spine before she couldn't help but laugh.

"Oh god, I'm not a very good bond lady," she told him with a grin, which he couldn't help but return as he continued leading her through the street. the last thing he needed at the moment was someone recognising him and outing him to Elize. He was enjoying this way too much, just being himself and he missed it. But today he could be if he could keep his identity away for now at least.

"We're here," he announced, slowing down as they walked inside. "Can we have a private table?" he asked the waiter in a rushed manner as Elize gazed around the restaurant. "Sure thing." the waiter said, obviously having recognised him.

"Come on," Richard called, pulling her along from her admiring of the restaurant as the waiter led them to the first floor, a table near the window but private enough.

"Can I bring you any drink?" the waiter asked them. "I'll have a Martini Olives please," Richard asked, before looking Elize, waiting to here her order. "I'll have the same but with a twist." she asked with a small smile as she excepted the carte.

"Any suggestions or is that dangerous?" Elize teased lightly with a grin. "why would that be dangerous?" he asked in a heavy Scottish accent.

"You might decide to drag me away again." she teased as her eyes twinkled in mischief and teasing. "Ha." he laughed with a small shake of his head, he had to give it to her. She was incredibly fascinating, why was he so? he didn't even know what it was, but there was definitely a click and connection between the two of them.

"No." he assured her with a small smile. "I don't know, what do you like to eat?" he asked, his head tilted to the side. "I love fish," she told him. "They've got great fish here," he told her with a smile as he opened his chart, Elize doing the same. When the waiter returned with their drinks Richard ordered a Chicken mushroom jambonnette and Elize a Cornish Hake with asperges.

****

"So what will you do when you return?" he asked, they'd nearly finished their lunch and the more he got to know the young woman in front of her the more she intrigued him. He wanted and needed to know more. He wanted to spend the entire day with her and figure her out. "I don't know," she said with a small sigh as she looked up to take a sip from her glass of wine.

"You must love something?" he asked, taking a sip from his own glass of wine. "Writing," she said in a single breath and he could see a calmness overtaking her as if she thought about it. "Really?" he questioned, suddenly even more intrigued.

"yes, I started writing about two years ago now, fanfiction at first I wanted to train in writing in English but at the moment I have four original works, I'd like to finish and maybe get published." she admitted a bit sheepishly as her cheeks heated up.

"That's admirable." he agreed, resting his chin on his clasped hands. "I like to create a world where other people can get lost in, you know. somewhere where they can start reading, where they can imagine living in, have a place to escape," she told him as her voice became very passionate and motivated.

"You must think it's stupid as well," she said, bowing her head and continuing to finish her lunch. "I don't," he told her, he'd be pretty stupid to be an actor, basically creating worlds of his own but in a different way and thinking she's stupid for doing the same.

"You don't?" she questioned her head shot up in surprise, mostly she heard: it's stupid; there's nothing to earn from that. You'll never make it as a writer, why would yours be good enough to be published and so on and on. So it was nice to hear that someone thought it wasn't stupid, even more so coming from the intriguing man in front of her.

"What did you start with as fan fiction I mean?" he asked, curious to see what she would answer. If she knew Game of thrones she had been leading him on and to be honest she deserved an Oscar is she was.

"Lord of the rings was the first one I did," she told him with a sheepish and embarrassed smile. "Really?" he asked, tilting his head, a small smile on his face. He loved the story so he was curious to know what she had done with the story.

"Yea," she said more certain. "Then as I got better expressing myself and writing, I started seeing a storyline in every series or movie I loved." she admitted. "such as?" he questioned a bit nervously.

"Well I did a Criminal Minds one, Chicago PD, Librarians, Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings, The last ship, Grimm." she told him, trying to think if she had any more, but she didn't.

"I don't know the librarians and The last ship," he admitted a bit sheepishly. "No, you've missed out, they're brilliant." she grinned as the passionate tone entered her voice again. "I became very picky when I started writing, I know how much work goes into research and working out the details and kinks. So when I don't get hooked from the first episode I'm done," she told him as she cut her hand through the air.

"I can understand that. so what have I been missing out on?" he asked her, wanting to hear what she thought about story lines. "Well, the Librarians? you saw the movie with Noah Wyle?" she asked him if he knew that it was simpler to explain.

"Yeah I saw the one with the vampire," he told her with a small nod. "Well they made a series, there three seasons now, fourth coming out in November. It's brilliant, certainly for me cause I love History and art, mythologies," she told him with a small smile as she sat back, having finished lunch.

"I'll have to watch it then," he told her, secretly hoping she would join him to watch them. "If you want I could give you my hard disk, they're on there." she suggested with an inclined head. "maybe I'll take you on the offer." he smiled, now he had a chance to invite her in to watch it together.

"And the other series?" he asked. "The last ship. from all the series I have seen that has got to be in the top 3 best of them all." she immediately said, he noticed whenever she got interested and passionate about something, her eyes would light up.

"really?" he asked her. "Yes, no doubt. I've seen so many shows over the years and barely any can live up to that. The details, the research, the filming, everything. It's brilliant." she told him, ending a bit sheepishly, realizing she had become her usual pushing self as others put it.

"Well, I'll have to see for myself." he smiled. "So you watched that many?" he asked, wanting to know the answer if she had ever seen any of his projects. "yea, I've watched my fair bit of series," she replied.

"Game of Thrones?" he asked, needing to know the answer. "You know many people have told me it would be something for me. I'm always looking for a new series, especially now, I've watched the one I have over a dozen times. But I never got myself to watch Game of Thrones, I don't know why." she told him with a small shrug of her shoulders.

"Have you?" she asked him as he felt a bit relieved that she hadn't seen it, or this would have all been very misleading. "yes sort off," he told her with a small smile. "You'd think I should watch it?" she asked him, her head tilted to the side.

"Yes, I think you'd like it," he told her with a small smile. "Guess, I'll have to order it tonight on the box." she told him with a small nod and a small sense of panic went through him, that quick?" he thought.

She'd know him then, realize he hadn't told her the whole truth, cause every time she asked him what he did for work, he'd triple around the subject and ask her a question.

By the time they left the restaurant they'd gotten to know quite a lot about each other. Richard knew that she'd grown up in a relatively small town in the Flemish part of the country, that she had three younger brothers and one younger sister making her the eldest. He'd discovered that she was an incredibly curious person for knowledge, she was wiser than anyone her age and he was intrigued by her.

Elise had discovered that Richard was the middle child of three with two sisters, he'd grown of in Elderslie near Paisley in Scotland. That he started acting to overcome shyness, that was just a start it seemed the two never got out of things to talk about. The conversation was fluent and lively with a small band of teasing and joking here and there.

By the time they arrived back where they started at 5 in the evening, he simply didn't want to split. He'd had a great time and he wasn't willing to let it go yet, so he asked: "You want to get me started on those series?"

"Sure I'll get my hard disk." She said, starting to turn around. "I meant." He started swallowing a bit nervously, why was he nervous?

"We could watch them together, I don't have much to do this week and I'd hate to watch alone, we can order in." He told her, his dimples more pronounced As he grinned at her.

"I have to let the dogs out and get them taken care of first." She told him, her thumb pointed back in the direction of the housing she was living in.

"Of course. Why don't you do that and I'll order something." He noted with a small smile, glad that she had accepted his offer.

"Sure thing I won't take longer than 20 minutes." She told him with a small smile as she turned and headed up to the front door and disappeared inside. Shaking his head a little in disbelief he went into his own house. Having forgotten to ask what she'd like he sent her a text asking if she wanted anything particular.

"Food 😜." Came the reply and he couldn't help but shake his head and let out a small bark of laughter. She was certainly something.

*****

"so how are things?" Mara, her best friend as she tucked her phone between her cheek and shoulder.

" Great, you know I love it here," Elise replied with an obvious tone. "Yes, I know that." Mara snickered, shaking her head in a bit of amusement. "You're in a city with a lot of people, haven't met a hot British dude yet." Mara pointed in a chuckle.

"Nope, Scottish yes." Elise couldn't help but say with a huge smile on her face. "Scottish?" Mara questioned in a confused tone.

"Yes the neighbour he's Scottish incredibly hot too, apparently he works a lot abroad and just arrived last night. We kind of ran into each other this morning when I left and he showed me around London." She told her best friend a bit giddy. Something must have slipped in her tea this morning cause Elise didn't get giddy from a guy. In all her 21 years sure she'd had crushes but never had a relationship, she had her reasons but it seemed that all those had seeped away today. And for the first time, she'd actually enjoyed being in a guy's presence and not the guy of her family way.

"Well well, who would have thought little miss goes to London and strikes up a hot Scottish dude." Mara teased softly, knowing her best friend had gone through her more than a fair share of problems and hurts in her life. It was like an anchor dragging her down, she loved her best friend but it hurt her to see her constantly unhappy.

And ever since last week, on their daily calls she'd heard an immediate change in her voice. A sense of calm and almost belonging elation had come over her. It was nice to hear that she was happy. It was hard not seeing her twice a week and she'd only been gone a week. They were like sisters having bonded 8 years ago on the first day of the second year in secondary school, both new and unsure of their new surroundings. The two had literally become inseparable. They shared everything, both knew the others secrets, dreams, hopes, things others never knew about.

Her family had basically adopted her as the sixth sibling, yes there had been trouble with Elise and her stepfather, having been estranged for nearly two years than things had been talked out and it had been like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders.

"It's not like that. We're just neighbours for the next seven weeks." Elise told her as she let the dogs back in. "Of course it is," Mara replied with a small shake of her head. Elise wouldn't know chemistry if it bit her in the ass, she always hides away and certainly from guys.

" really," Elise assured her but it seemed she was trying to reassure herself at the same time.

"Uhuh," Mara muttered doubtfully she'd leave her friend in her belief, for now, she'd see it soon enough. "So you going to the BBQ tonight? " Elise asked her best friend, knowing that her grandparents were having a BBQ as usual in the summer for all their friends and family, which wasn't very big. They counted their friends family so there would only be about 20, 25 people in attendance.

"Yes I just came home after helping out with the preparations, I needed a shower," Mara told her, Elise knew her mother absolutely despised her and she'd comforted her friend quite a bit over the years after her mothers rants against her, when she'd told her grandparents about it they'd immediately invited her over and she became like her twin sister for her entire family.

"Good. Don't mention anything please?" She asked, knowing that Mara could annoy her like a real sister as well and would babble her mouth off about what she'd just told her.

"Sure if you tell me more about him?" Mara demanded in curiosity. "Well his name is Richard he's ten years older but today that didn't even seem like it. He's drop dead gorgeous he's got these baby blue eyes almost. He works abroad a lot I don't as what. " she paused, realising he'd been avoiding that question a bit today. She'd leave it alone for now but she would ask him in the future if they were still to meet up that was.

"Sounds interesting," Mara noted with a bit of doubt entering her mind but she wouldn't say anything just yet, seemed her friend was enjoying herself for now.

"Mmm, but I have to go we're going to watch a few movies tonight." She told Mara seeing that she was going to break her promise of not taking longer than 20 minutes.

"Okay Hun, have a good time." Mara smiled before ending the call.

Sending a quick text to Micheal that everything was alright with the dogs and the house she took a bottle of wine from the fridge she'd bought the other day, her hard disk and she left the house.

Richard opened the door had changed in a t-shirt. "Sorry, my best friend called." She apologised stepping inside. "Ah yes I know what that's like." He admitted with a small chuckle as he led her further into the house. " food should be here any minute. Pizza." He told her with a small grin.

" great." She replied, handing him the bottle. "You shouldn't have." He told her with a soft smile. "Still it's rude not to bring anything if invited into another's home." She told him, leaning against the kitchen island with her hip as she noticed that it was the exact outlay as the house she was caring for.

Richard gave her a small smile before the doorbell rang. The TVs in the living room, just plug the disk in so we can get started." He told her as he brushed his shoulder against hers as he passed her to get the pizzas.

Doing just that she'd plugged the disk in and was sitting on the couch a bit uncertain when Richard walked in carrying two boxes of pizza and two glasses of wine as she had brought the bottle of wine.

"I ordered a sea food one for you. Didn'tknow what else to take and then I remembered you saying you loved to fish." He rambled as he couldn't help but get a little nervous with her in his house.

"It's fine." She told him with a reassuring smile as she pulled the box open and took a whiff of the amazing smell coming from the box. "Here you go." Richards' voice said a glass of wine held out for her to take. When he settled down next to her he took the remote and stopped at the map series. "Which one shall we start with?" He asked looking back at her. " I've seen them what are you in for more plague or history." She told him with a small chuckle.

"Plague it is." He noted with a small chuckle as they started watching the first episode of the last ship. They were only two minutes in when the gore started. It didn't seem to bother either of them as they continued eating. Richard next to her, legs kicked forward and box on his lap. Elise, on the other hand, didn't want to be held responsible for messing up his couch and sat cross-legged on the floor at the coffee table.

They put the episode on pause to clean away the boxes when they were finished but continued on watching after that. "You're right, this is brilliant," Richard noted well over midnight when they decided to call it a night after the 7th episode. "We can continue Tomorrow if you'd like?" He asked, hoping she would say yes.

" I don't want to impose Richard." She said her head tilted to the side as they stood in the hallway. "You aren't," He said quickly, wanting to reach out to tuck a lock of her hair.

" we can start in the afternoon." He added, his head tilted to the side but he couldn't help but smile when Elise let out a small yawn.

" On one condition." She said, holding up her finger. "You've paid twice now for my lunch and dinner, I get to cook for you tomorrow, have a feeling you don't get many homes cooked meals." She told him with a small tired smile.

" done." He immediately agreed, it was only a small thing to agree to if it meant they could spend tomorrow together again. And she was right sure the catering on sets might be great but nothing beat a good home cooked meal and it been a while since he'd had any.

"I'll be here a 1:30." She told him opening the front door. "Look forward to it." He told her with an honest tone.

"Me too." She said with a small sigh as she stood on her toes to kiss his cheek. "Thanks for today and keeping me company, you were right it can become quite lonely all alone." She told him, before turning around and walking to the house next door.

****

"So how was it last night?" Elise asked Mara as she walked the dogs in the park of the housing complex. "As usual, they talked a lot about you and being away. Your gran says she doesn't understand why you are so caught by England she wants you to stay here." Mara informed her. "I know." Elise sighed as she watched the two dogs running around.

" you know I love them but I wish I could stay here." She noted with a wistful sigh. " I know Hun, and for Richard." She noted with a teasing tone. "No, we're just friends," Elise told her with a knowing tone and shake of her head.

"Of course, that's how Sibe and I started." She noted with a teasing tone. "I hate you," Elise announced with a small shake of her head and sigh. "No you don't," she noted in a sing a song voice.

"Anyway, I have to go," Elise told her with a small shake of her head as she arrived at the front door. "Sure you do, a certain Scottish guy." Mara continued in her teasing. "I'm hanging up now?" Elise announced as she hung up with a roll of her eyes.

Getting her groceries, she'd done earlier to prepare dinner tonight, she took her phone and left the house after locking everything up. Richard opened the front door with a huge grin on his face. "You made it." He stated, the grin didn't seem to be able to disappear. "of course, where else would I be?" she asked him as she greeted him with a small kiss on the cheek.

"Dinner?" he asked, trying to get a peek in the grocery bags she was carrying, which he took from her. "Yes." She confirmed trailing after him and she could help it as her eyes travelled down towards his bum.

"Ready to get finished with the first season. You were right, it's absolutely brilliant." He noted as they finished putting away the groceries before starting to watch the Last ship again.

Around Six Elise started preparing dinner as Richard moved the disk to the tv in the kitchen. He made sure to keep one eye on the young woman preparing him a dinner, which he hadn't been done for in a long time and the series she had gotten him addicted to.

She was aware that he was watching her as she prepared a famous and pretty popular dish in Belgium, a chicory and ham dish with mashed potatoes and cheese sauce. The more time he spent with her, the greater it felt, it was weird to be this comfortable around a woman he'd only met yesterday, but she made it so easy. She was a great person and she was anything like the women he'd met since becoming the actor he was. It was refreshing to undergo as it was something that he wasn't very much used to anymore.

He watched her out of the corner of his eye, replying when she asked him where something was. "It has to stay in the oven for 30 minutes, I wish I could make you a traditional Belgian dessert, but I didn't find what I needed and I wouldn't be here on time if I went to another store." She told him as she sat opposite of him on the high table attached to the kitchen island. "You'll just have to come back tomorrow." He told her with a smile and he hoped that she would indeed return the next day. Cause he wanted to get to know her even more and better than he already did.

Half an hour later, the two of them set the table and started eating dinner. He was surprised by what she'd made, unlike anything he'd ever eaten. But it was absolutely amazing. "You're a fantastic cook." He told her looking up from where he was wolfing down his dinner. It was so good, he took a second and a third time.

After cleaning up they settled themselves down on the couch and continued watching the last ship.

#richard madden #richard madden fanfic #richard fanfiction

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littlebitoffanfic · 6 years ago

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Perfect Moment

Fandom: Friday the Thirteen Characters: Jason, Pamela Relationship: Jason/reader Request: heya! It's the Jason!Anon from earlier~ Super excited you're open to doing this though. So like I said, i really loved your jason imagine and was wondering if you'd maybe wanna put that 'into fic form' basically? Like the reader was friends with Jason growing up and didn't care about the deformity but then he died and her parents took her away until one day (bonus points if on the anniversary of his death or his birthday) she comes back and they reunite and fluff? If not lemme know AN: I kept it a little closer to my headcannon just by having his mother a little more involved. I hope that’s alright 😊 Original headcannons: http://littlebitoffanfic.tumblr.com/post/176634985554/dating-jason-would-include “Stop it, STOP IT!” You screamed, thrashing against the kids holding you back. “HE CANT SWIM!” But the others continued to chase him along the floating rafts. You watched in horror as he stumbled a little then tripped. He looked to you, searching for some kind of help. Turning your head, you looked for the adults. They were meant to be here, they were meant to be watching. “Please! Leave him alone!” You scream out, tears streaming down your cheeks as you struggled against the two pairs of hands that held you in place. They were 2 boys who were three years older than you, so they easily held you back while their little friends chased Jason. Then it happened. Jason nearly got back to his feet when he slipped and fell head first into the water. Your heart stopped as you froze. He couldn’t swim. The boys froze as well, knowing that he couldn’t swim. They hadn’t intended to chase him INTO the water, just to spook him. You heard one of the boys behind you turn and try to call for a councillor but they didn’t respond. You managed to slip out of their grasp only to have a larger hand grab your arm. You turned to see one of the adults with his shirt partly open and lipstick on his neck. Another ran past and dove into the water but they immerged without him. “Let me go! I can find him. He doesn’t trust you.” You fought just as hard against the grown up, but with little success. You knew Jason wouldn’t go near the grownups because they dismissed him and treated him poorly, but maybe if you could get to him. “Sorry, no ones allowed in the water.” The man shook his head. Something in you broke and you twisted around and bit down on his bare forearm, hard. he screamed out, letting go of you and you took your chance and ran to the water. Only for another grown up to grab you by the waist, lifting you up and carrying you back to the cabins. You trashed and screamed, crying out his name. -------------time skip ------------------ You woke up in a cold sweat as your own screams echoed through your head. Sitting up, you gasped for air as you looked around you. It was still dark in the small motel room. The clock showed 4am although it flickered on and off a few times. you felt your tears running down your cheeks and you were quick to brush them away as you got out of bed, heading to the bathroom. You knew there was no point in trying to go back to sleep. Your nightmare would just replay that day on a loop anyway. Even after so many years, you still remembered it like it was yesterday. Sometimes you would still be a child, and sometimes you would be an adult. But the outcome was all the same. After Jasons death, you took a turn for the worse. But who could blame you. Seeing your best friend murdered then neither the kids nor the councillors facing any repercussions for their actions (or lack of), made you bitter and resentful for any adults that weren’t your parents or Mrs Voorhees. She had been one of the first to comfort you, wrapping you in her arms as the two of you sobbed. That day, you lost a friend and she lost a son. She understood why your parents were concerned and helped when it came time for them to take you away from that place. She would stay, but she hated the sight of you staring out at the spot, hoping he might return. You later found out that she had given your parents a massive lump some of money to put you through school and college. She had been saving it for Jason, but now wanted you to have it. So you went to the best school and graduated with top marks. For a few years, you studied a few different coursed but nothing ever stuck. You were smart, and had a wide range of talents but you never really connected with anyone again. So you travelled a little by yourself, earning money through your art. But then your mom and dad were involved in a crash. One which saw you left as an orphan and you didn’t know where to go. parentless and friendless, one place suddenly popped into your mind. Camp Crystal Lake. You stayed for as long as you were needed, giving your loving parents a nice send off and seeing their estate was handled correctly. They both had life insurance and a chunk of savings which was all left to you. This plus the sale of their home and a few other assists meant you were set for life. 5 months after their death, you packed up your car. Some items you put into a long term storage but the sentimental items like their wedding rings and a locket came with you. a weeks dive had lead to you spending the last night on the road at this motel. It was okay, a little dingy but just enough to get a decent nights sleep and a breakfast. You glanced at your wrist, the purple and blue friendship bracelet was tattered and seen better days, but it was made for you by Jason, so everywhere you went, it went. You had made one for him, the same colours to represent you both. You ran your brush through your hair while you contemplated spending another night here. You had already missed a full days travel because you decided to stay again last night so you knew you had to move on. Besides, if you left at 6, you would be at crystal lake by 4pm. After packing up your things and going down for breakfast, you handed back your keys and paid your bill. Heading out to your car, you couldn’t help but feel a slow building dread. Maybe it was the fact the day was dreary and grey. You arrived at the entry gate at 5.30pm, a little later than you would have liked but the roads were dangerous, so you took it slow. You felt a shiver run through your spin as you pulled up outside a cabin. Even though it was still daytime, the rain and black clouds made it look later than it was as you got out the car, pulling your hood up. Looking down at your bracelet, you felt a small rush of hope. You didn’t even know if she was still here. You could see someone moving about in the cabin she and Jason had called home. It took 10 minutes for you to gather the courage to walk to the cabin. walking up the three steps to the porch, you pulled down your hood once out of the rain and knocked three times, your hands shaking violently. There was a pause from inside, then you heard footsteps coming to the door. It opened and you nearly dropped to your knees as Mrs Voorhees stood in front of you, aged but still fully recognisable. And apparently, you were the same. “[y/n]?” She breathed, her hand dropping from the door as she stared at you. She reached out a trembling hand, pushing a strand of your wet hair back out your face so she could see your eyes properly. When she did, her face broke into a smile as her eyes pooled with tears. She pulled you into her arms, hugging you as she swayed. You cuddled into her, your own tears making you sob onto her shoulder. She felt your shaking body and you both ended up kneeling on her porch in each others arms. She pulled you into her home and set you down on the couch before rushing to make you tea. “Is it just you? Will your parents be coming back?” She asked when she returned, placing the cup in front of you on the small coffee table in the centre. You dropped her gaze, looking away. “They, um, they passed away.” You cleared your throat, fresh tears coming into your eyes. “Oh, im so sorry.” She sat next to you, wrapping one arm around you while placing one hand on your lap comfortingly. You told her about the crash, and about how you had decided to come back here. She said you could stay with her as long as you liked, and that she had seen a cabin not too far from here up for sale, if you were wanting to stay. ---------------time skip ----------------- “Mrs Voorhees? I bought some fresh bread.” You call as you enter her cabin, your handmade bread in a little tin to protect it. “Oh lovely.” She smiled as she walked out from the kitchen. “Smells delicious.” “Thank you.” You giggle as she takes it from you and heads back to the kitchen. After staying with her for 2 weeks, you had put in an offer for the cabin about a quarter of a mile from hers. It was accepted and you had been living there for 4 months now. But something strange had been happening. “May I ask you something?” You ask, following her to the kitchen. She hums a yes. “Have you noticed someone in the woods?” Pamela freezes, not daring to look at you as she glances out the window. “N-no, my dear. Why?” She stutters a little as you slid into a seat at her breakfast bar. “Well, ive just felt like someone’s watching me. Im sure ive seen someone moving about outside my house at night. Its just.. strange.” You shake your head, unable to describe it. “How so?” she asks, sitting down across from you with a raised eye brow. “Its not… I don’t think their… dangerous. It feels more like having a protector than a stalker.” You scorn yourself, unable to put it into a way that didn’t sound ridiculous. “Maybe you do. Maybe someone’s looking out for you.” She smiles kindly and it gives you some level of peace to your mind. “Oh, while Im here.” You suddenly remember. “One of the councillors is asking around about… him.” there was a moment of quiet that rushed over you both. “We’ll finish it all soon. Only a few more days I think.” She looks at you for your reaction to which you nod. After years of resentment that built up, she had offered you the only thing to stifle that need. She first told you about her plans after you ran in on her killing a couple who had been having sex. You had kept the girl while she killed the guy then the girl. You had joined her (after she had offered you an escape if you promised not to tell). So you helped to kill the young councillors. You vowed you wouldn’t let them open this camp again. It would disrespect Jason’s memory. Leaning back, you smiled as you looked up at the walls, which had a number of pictures hung up. Of the 8 photos, 2 were of her parents and their wedding, and the other 6 were Jason. You were in 3. “You two were always attached at the hip.” She smiled fondly, following your gaze to her son. “Your parents often joked with me that we’d be arranging a wedding about now.” “You might have been.” You smiled sadly. ----------------flash back----------------- “please take it off?” You begged, your pigtails bouncing as you jumped excitedly. Only a week before the tragic incident, you could have never guessed how drastically your life was about to change. Jason, with a small huff, pulled off the bag he wore over his head. His face, which was severally disformed, made him hid away from people. The only people he didn’t push away was you, his mama and your mom and dad. “I heard your mama saying we have to get married.” You giggled, pointing between you both. It was true. She had been joking about it over coffee with your mom. Jason glanced to the floor, a small blush dawning his normally pale cheeks as he glanced back to you. He adored you, anyone could see that. Even if it was a puppy crush, that didn’t stop every adult thinking you two were destined for each other. “If we did, we could live together and stay up late and drink all the fizzy drinks we can! It would be so much fun.” You giggle, skipping across to your room to the shelf. Jason ran up behind you, nodding excitedly as you pulled some books off the shelf and fell to the ground. Jason joined you as you opened the books up and spread them out. All on pages where the main characters were getting married. “I want to wear a dress like her.” You point to one of your favourite characters, having always wanted to wear a dress like in a the fairy tales. But Jason’s eyes were on another book. In that illustration, the two main characters were leaning forward and kissing while guests threw white confetti over their heads in celebration. He reached out and tapped the page, looking back to you in fear as he pointed to himself. Years of friendship had created a silent communication between the two of you that baffled the adults. “yeah, we’d have to kiss. My mom and dad do it all the time.” You nod but that didn’t seem to answer his question. He pointed to himself again and looked down, running his hand up the side of his misshaped face. “Of course I do.” You reach out, taking his hand off his face and answer his silent ‘would you kiss me?’ question. Jason jumped at your response, beaming at you as he grabbed both your hands. “You wanna practice?” the two of you leaded forward, meeting each others lips. A totally innocent kiss, one that adult would chuckle at and call cute. One which made an adult you smile back on fondly. When you pulled back, you were giggling but that didn’t cover the blush on your cheeks. Just then, your mom called you both for dinner. You dragged Jason to his feet, promising that when you got married, you could eat whatever you wanted for dinner. ---------------present -------------------- When you were walking back to your cabin, you felt the gaze of someone. You knew they were there, you knew it in your gut that someone was close by, but when you around you saw nothing. As your house came into view, you saw there was something on your porch. Frowning, you walked a little fast until you could clearly make out what they were. Daffodils. One of you favourite flowers when you were a child. Jason would pick some from his mothers garden when you were upset or if it was your birthday. Walking closer, you saw about 10 had been left on your porch. You picked them up before sliding to sit on the step. Tears rolled down your cheeks as you smiled at the flowers and looked up to the forest that surrounded the cabin. Taking one, you left it propped against your step before you went inside to place them in water. When you glanced back out about an hour later, the single daffodil was gone. --------------------time skip ------------ You gasped for air as you stumbled through the woods. It was dark and raining heavily. this couldn’t be happening again. The blood that covered your hands was mixed with wet dirt from where you had fallen a couple of times. Pamela Voorhees was dead. You gasped for air. Not another one. Not someone else you loved. You had just been in time to see that bitch councillor swing an axe and take her head off her shoulder. You screamed out in anguish as you watched the last person you had allowed yourself to love be killed. Killed. A rage took over you as you ran at the girl, taking her to the ground and punching her in the face. When she tried to swing the axe at you, you grabbed it and ripped in from her hands, straddling her torso and bringing the blade down into her skull one, two, three, four times. You began to lose count. Finally, you pulled yourself up and stumbled back from the murders, eventually running into the woods. sobbing, you ended up catching your shoulder on a tree and you fell to the ground in a wreck. Everything around you was collapsing again, and there was nothing you could do about it. You screamed in vain as you tried to relieve the pressure that rested heavily on your chest. Pushing yourself to your feet, you took a deep breath, trying to get it straight in your mind what you would do next. but you just broke into sobs that wrecked through your whole body. Until, you heard something move in front of you. Your head snaps up and you freeze. about seven foot away from you stood a man. He was tall, reaching at least six feet and maybe 6 inches tall compared to your smaller height. He towered over you and yet, he seemed scared of you. He wore a sack over his face, the moon showing a single eye hole for him to see out of. It looked like the type of thing Jason would wear. Jason. It couldn’t be. He couldn’t be alive. looking away, your eyes closed as tears flooded your eyes again. “You cant be him.” You breathed, more to yourself than to the man. You heard him coming closer and you opened your eyes again to see him holding out something to you. You looked into his large palm and saw two things that made your heart jump into your throat. In his palm was the head of a daffodil, like the one you left out a few days ago. And around it was a purple and blue faded friendship bracelet. You raise your right hand, the very same one on your wrist. The one he had given to you, which meant that was the one that you had given to Jason. While your wrists hadn’t got that much bigger, he had grown massively, so the thought of him carrying around your friendship bracelet with him all this time. It could only be him. A smile dawned your lips as a fresh spark of hope went through your body. “J-Jason?” You looked up as you step closer. Your heart was hammering and your blood racing. You didn’t know how much more you could take tonight. A single nod was enough to send you over the edge as you collapse to the floor unconscious. -------------------time skip ----------------------------------- When you woke up, you had been carried back to your bed and tucked in. From the moment you woke up, you had felt that spark of hope once again. This was different. Even after your parents past, you knew Pamela might still be around. But you never thought for a moment that Jason might still be alive. The first few weeks, you didn’t really see him again but you understood. While he knew who you were, he didn’t know you. But that didn’t stop him staying close to you. The disappearances of the councillors was investigated and decided it had been one of the guys who was unstable. Said guy was at the bottom of the lake but the police think he is on the run. Even Pamela’s murder was made up to him rather than the girl and then you. You were given a miss because you had been in town during one of the murders and people had said it couldn’t have been you. Plus they doubted you could take a woman’s head off. Pamela was buried next to the empty grave of Jason’s. She was given a nice send off like you had done you own parents. You had seen Jason’s figure by her grave a few times but left him. But his presents became known more and more. When you walked through, he forest, he would follow you at a distance. It was nice and calming, knowing this great beast of a man was protecting you. It made you shiver at the thought. today, you had decided to try and lure him closer for the first time. It was his birthday today. You knew and remembered every year. But this year, you had bought him a few little things from town as well as painting him a portrait of his mother which had come out perfectly in your eyes. You planned to bring him back later but, for now, you wanted to wash up. It was a warm day and, for the first time since you were a child, you wanted to take a dip in the cool water of a lake. taking a towel, shampoo and conditioner and changing into a bathing suit and putting a summer dress over your suite you had picked up from town, you went to the lake which was about a ten minute walk from your home. Placing your things near the water, you pulled your dress over your head and slipped off your sandals. Walking slowly into the water, you smiled at the feeling of the fresh water on your skin. You walked out till the water came up to your chest and ducked under the water. When wet, you went back to the shore and grabbed your shampoo and conditioner to wash your hair out. Once done, you thought about getting back out, but then you looked out over the sparkling lake and you wanted to swim for a while. Going back out to your waist, you slowly started to swim. You kept close to the bank, having not swum in years but you found it was like riding a bike. Your body still knew what to do. You ducked your head under the water to wet your hair again. Coming up, your hair fanned out around you in the water and you felt nice and cool in the hot sun. twisting in the water, you floated on your back with closed eyes. Then you felt something was off. Opening your eyes, you glanced to the bank and saw Jason. he was pacing the bank desperately. He tried to come into the water but only got the water to his ankles and he moved back. You could see how tense he was and how desperate he was looking at you. He was scared. Twisting back to your front, you started to swim back to him. “jason, its fine. Im fine.” You call out to him but that didn’t calm him. When you were able to reach the bottom, you stood up and started to walk out of the water. You thought of running, but then you imagined yourself falling over and him freaking out even more. When you were up to your knees, you saw Jason charge into the water. You reached out for him, thinking he would just take your hand and lead you out. But he didn’t. He wrapped his arms around you and swept you up into his arms. You couldn’t help but laugh at the feeling as he pulled you out the water. But you could feel how hard his heart was hammering in his chest. He was really worrying. He was panting and his whole body seemed to tremble as he looked up at you. Once on the bank, he set you down and looked you over for any sign of injury. “Im fine.” You smile, reaching out and taking his hand, as you often did when you were children. He froze, looking down at your smaller hand in his own. You notice his green jacket was now partially wet from picking you up. You suddenly felt a little exploded in your swimwear. Ducking down, you picked up your towel and wrapped in round your torso, smiling at Jason as you did so. The you grabbed your dress and, after quickly drying yourself off, you pulled it over your swimming costume. Sure, it stuck a little because you were still a little wet, but you thought it was better to show him you were okay. you glanced down and realised that during his pacing, he had knocked one of your sandals forward into the water. “Damn.” You whispered, darting down and picking up your now soaked slipper. But before you could consider what you were going to do, you were swept up into his strong arms once again. He didn’t both picking up your shampoo, conditioner or soggy slipper, but you didn’t mind as he started to carry you back into the woods. He lifted you so you were perched on his shoulder, his arm wrapped security around your legs. You smiled at the action, feeling like you weighed next to nothing. You placed your hand on the other side of his bagged head to steady yourself. You could feel his malformed skull under the bag as he tensed under your touch, glancing up to you. But you just smiled, looking in front of you both as Jason turned back to watch where he was walking. When you reached your home, Jason slid you off his shoulders. You had left the door unlocked but as you padded up onto your porch, Jason stayed back. You opened your front door and were about to go inside until you realised he wasn’t following you. He had stopped at the stairs, looking down at them as if he was scared to step up. Turing back, you leaned against your door. “Jason?” You called to him. “Do you want to come inside?” Jason paused, staring at you like you were some kind of angel before nodding and slowly climbing the stairs. Once he was close enough, you reached out and took his hand, dragging him inside like you use to do when you were children. Once inside, you turned to him, your eyes falling on the mask which felt a little like a brick wall now between the both of you. “Could, could you take it off?” you asked, your eyes darting to the bottom of the bag over his face. You saw his whole body tense and he took a step back from you, his eye moving to the floor. Hunched over on him self, he shook his head. you considered leaving him, but something drove you to push him a little. “You know I never cared when we were younger. Why would I now?” You duck your head a little and he glances up at you. When he meets your gaze, you smiled softly. He took a few deep breaths and shakes his head again. You felt your heart break a little because he no longer trusted you. That bond was broken. Looking away from him, you blink back tears. You thought that when he finally came to you and spent time with you that it wouldn’t be a problem just like when you were children. Maybe he thought you were like the ones who had hurt him as a child. The thought made your heart ache because you loved him. You loved him. The realisation dawned on you as you realised why you were so drawn to him. That child like love you had felt had exposed since you had seen him that night in the rain. You thought your heart raced when you saw him because you were excited to see your oldest friend, but that wasn’t the only reason. You loved him deeply, whole heartedly and eternally. You hadn’t realised it but your tears were running down your cheek. Jason moved forward, taking a hesitant step towards you. He didn’t realise your tears were something more than just you bring upset. They were part of a complex hurricane of emotions. But he didn’t see that. He thought it was purely because he had refused your request. you looked up, your eyes wide with tears as he reached up and started to draw the bag up slowly. “Don’t.” you blurt out, holding out your hands to stop him. “Don’t do it if you aren’t ready. You can wait until you trust me.” He looked out of the one eye hole and you felt like he was looking into your sole. The intensity coming from him was overpowering before he continued to raise his shaking hands to his bag. Slowly, he pulled the bag up over his face and off his head. He refused to meet your gaze once his face was revealed, instead his gaze fell to the floor like he was ashamed or embarrassed. But you couldn’t pry your eyes away from his face. His face had matured immensely since you had last seen him. His skull was bald and misshapen but he barley had any hair when you had known him. His right eye was sunken a little and not in line with his left and his nose was a little flatter than normal. His cheeks had small indents and dips. His mouth seemed to droop at the side but you couldn’t tell if it was him controlling that. But to you, he was ever so handsome. He wasn’t the boy you remembered. His new height, strength and muscles compared with his matured features was enough to drive you mad. Then you realised he was waiting for you to do something. He had glanced up to you but when he met your gaze, he dropped it again, a soft whine leaving his lips. It broke you. Walking up to him, you reached up and cupped his cheeks. He moved his face up so his eyes met yours. Moving closer, you press your lips to his in a soft kiss. One of your hands ran down his cheek to rest on his broad chest which you could feel his heart hammering under his shirt. After a moment, a shiver ran through his body and his hands grabbed your waist as he slowly responded to your kiss, moving his lips against yours. You could feel how he trembled under your touch but responded so eagerly to your affection. You pulled back to gasp for air before feeling him lean forward to retrieve another kiss as if it was his new source of air. Your hand slips to the back of his head, running down to his neck, keeping him close. Your body was pressed against his own, his height dwarfing you but you felt like you were both equality as dominating in the kiss. You were glad because you were scared it might intimidate him but he seemed just as eager as you were. When you parted, you were both panting. Your cheeks were a dark red from a deep blush as you looked up at Jason. He was breathing heavily staring down at you in surprise. Then he collapsed to his knees in front of you, his hands grabbing your waist as he presses his forehead against your stomach. It took you a moment to fully realise what had happened just because your head was still spinning from the kiss. He was on his knees after he had received his first kiss from you. Looking down, you might have thought he was frightened but then he looked up at you. In his eyes, you saw he adored you and was staring up at you with awe. There was tears in his eyes but his lips were pulled into a smile. You dropped down in front of him, sitting across his lap as his arms engulfed you once again. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, burying your face in his neck and holding him close as he mirrored your affections. You pressed soft kissed to his neck whenever you could. Suddenly, you remembered the small items you had gathered for him. “Oh, I almost forgot.” You scrambled out of his lap and darted to the side, grabbing the wrapped items. When you came back to him, you kneeled in front of him, presenting them to Jason. “Happy birthday.” You smiled, seeing something that reminded you of surprise in his eyes. His hands, still shaking from before, took the presents. Slowly and without even ripping the paper, he opened each in turn. With each one, his smile grew wider until he got to the portrait of his mother. His smile faltered and fell as tears welled in his eyes. you moved closer to him, wrapping you arms around him. you allowed him to take as much time as he needed before he turned to you. His arms locked around you as he silently thanked you again and again. Her portrait was hung up on your wall, right beside your own parents wedding photos. After she were hung up, you pulled Jason to your sofa, sitting with him on your sofa. That night, he stayed the whole time with you, answering your questions as best he could and asking his own through a note pad. You fell asleep on his shoulder and he didn’t move you, instead wrapping his own arms around you and lying with you till morning. --------------------time skip --------------------- Since that first kiss, Jason never left your side. the only reason he left you was if someone came too close to the camp and he would rush off to protect you. Sometimes you would follow him to try help. He would be annoyed with you for putting yourself in trouble but then you showed you could handle yourself and he would relax a little more. “Can you come on a walk with me?” You ask, as you meet Jason on the porch of your home. He ha just come back and was slightly bloody, but you didn’t mind that. you could see the smile even though he now wore a old hockey mask. You much preferred this to the bag. Jumping down the stairs, you took Jason by the hand and led him into the woods. It was late afternoon and the sun was starting to set in over the lake. You had been waiting for him to get back for a few hours. Of course, Jason would do absolutely anything for you, regardless of what it was. As you walked, you looked down at your intertwined hands, your heart skipping as you saw how truly bigger he was than you. How his hands could rip people in half, had killed people, and yet he was so gentle with you. His touches were sometimes filled with fear, like he was afraid he would break you. Looking up at Jason, he glanced over and caught your eyes. You smiled sweetly at him, being truly happy for the first time in a long long time. Jason ducked down, lifting you up and placing you daintily on his shoulders, as he had done so many times before. You giggled, allowing your fingers to trail over the back of his neck and sides of his head. leaning down, you press a soft kiss to the top of his head. Jason froze, but not from your affection. No, he heard someone moving in front of you both. He lowered you to the ground, cautiously before pulling out his machete which he carried on his belt. “I’ll head down to the lake. Come find me when your ready.” You smile, reaching out to run your fingers over his forearm before walking away. Less than 10 minutes and a scream later, Jason found you by the river. You had taken off your shoes and socks to dip your feet in the cooling water. When you heard him approaching, you turned to see him over your shoulder and you couldn’t help but smile. Jason froze. The image of you, beautiful and perfect, with the crystal blue water and setting sun in the background made his heart stop. He never dared to join you in the water, but he was no longer completely fearful you might be swallowed by the water. you moved out of the water to him, taking his hand in yours and pressing a soft kiss to his knuckles. in that moment, everything was perfect in both your eyes and his.

#Friday the thirteenth #jason voorhees #jason voorhees x reader #Jason x reader #reader insert #request

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raifuujin · 6 years ago

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MK Treasured Edition Commentary

From here, here, and here.

Volume 1

Hello, it's me, Aoyama.

In the course of the republication of Magic Kaito I take the liberty to show my memories of this time straightforwardly. (grin)

The Revived Phantom Thief The memorable first chapter! Actually I became a Mangaka because I wanted to write about a high school phantom (grin) and so I drew it under great tension! Well and back then I was short of money which is the reason why his hatband around his tophat isn't shaded with screen tone…

The Police Are Everywhere The original title „Keikan ga ippai” referred to a movie... „Taiyou ga ippai”, a movie with Alain Delon („Purple Noon”). Detective Doron is an allusion, too, because „Delon” is written as „Doron” in Japan. (grin) By the way! The words „When you bend them, they...” Kaito announces the light-emitting diode were literally written on the package of one of those things I purchased on a public festival as a kid. (grin) Appearantly they're actually known as „glow stick”.

The Clockwork Heart A science-fiction-thriller! A rarity for Kaito (grin). I recall that I perceived it as really exhausting to draw all the parts of the robot and that I had no computer, so that I had to write Kaito's farewell letter by hand (Haha!). By the way! In the panel the robot says „I'm Kuroba Kaito... Haha!!” Kaito's pupils look kinda strange (?). There I mimicked Akemi Matsunae of which I was a big fan back then. (grin)

Kaitou Kid's Busy Day Off Back then, the 3D movie „Captain EO” starring Michael Jackson was being played in cinemas and has been satirized in this chapter, although I never thought 3D movies could have been revived because of „Avatar”... (grin) By the way! When I read the closing scene today I think that the phrase „But, ice cream... still tastes great!” is my most embarrassing quote ever (grin).

The Pirate Ship Unsurfaced A sea adventure with Kaito? This is a rarity, too! (grin) I can't remember at all why I wanted to draw this story, but maybe I wanted a confrontation between a thief from the mainland and a thief of the seas...? (Ha!) Well, and so Kaito brought his costume of Kaitou Kid even to this place...?! (grin)

The Scarlet Temptress There she is! Mistress Akako! To be honest, she, as practitioner of black magic, is the reason who drove me into the corner the most during Kaitos appearances in Conan. Well, you just have to accept these works as parallel universes. (grin) By the way, Kaito Kuroba is written on the handkerchief, this probably was a prank done by his mom (Chikage)... (grin)

Aoyama Kid ♥

Volume 2

Stay Away From Him Although it's more of a romantic tale than a thief story I really like this one ♥ Especially the panel with „Well, excuse me for being an idiot...“ is a real gem, because of how often I had to redraw it! (laughs) Additionally, Superman and Top Gun appear... which is according to my taste! It's also revealed in this story that Aoko is flat-chested. (laughs)

Japan's Most Irresponsible Prime Minister A story I used one of my then-favourite actors Hitoshi Ueki, who has passed away in the meantime, as model! I also dared to use the Japanese prime minister - this was probably really audacious... And then characters appear who look like the past leaders of the USSR and the USA, Gorbachev and Reagan... (sweating). By the way, did anyone notice the „Akako balloon“ in the night sky? (laughs)

I Am the Master! This story was purely written because I felt like it! Anyway, I really wanted to draw how Kaitou Kid makes a balls to the wall ride down the facade of a building... (laughs). I would be nice if they one day made an Anime out of it ♫ Oh well, even if Cleopatra's Vanity case should really exist, two thousand years later one probably couldn't use it anymore... (laughs)

Would You Grow Up If I remember correctly, the hang-glider associated with Kaitou Kid lifted the first time in this story. Well, one could also say that Kaitou Kid could have fled from the get-go with it, instead of stretching a rope to the Tokyo Tower first (laughs). I'd really like to bring the motorized roller skates again.

The Boy Who Bet on the Ball It has also been really daring to take real professional baseball player as a model... (laughs). I think the story was created after I talked with my editor in charge about how thrilling it would be if Kaitou Kid appeared on a pole in Tokyo Dome. Well, the Yomiuri Giants are working together with Conan in several ways anyway, so I hope they can turn a blind eye to this... (fierce laughter)

Ghost Game If I remember correctly, I was frantically busy because I had to draw „Tantei George no Minimini Daisa-kusen“ („Detective George's Mini-Mini Big Strategy“) three weeks in a row for the Sunday magazine, so I finished this chapter in a very short time... (laughs). Directly afterwards my series „Yaiba“ started, because of which „Magic Kaito“ had to pause for a while. Hard to believe that the series is continued until today...! (laughs)

Hustler vs. Magician Originally this was the true second chapter of „Magic Kaito“! But... it was rejected! Since my debut in „Sunday“ there was never a story before or after it that was rejected. It's real luck that it made it into this volume! (laughs)

Omake „Magic Kaito“ was the first Manga I was allowed to publish as a Mangaka, which could be the reason I drew this story with zest and high motivation... Oh well, this probably was my youthful enthusiasm... (laughs)

Aoyama Kid ♥

Volume 3

Star Wars The first „Magic Kaito“ story I drew in the Heisei era (since 1989 -editor's note). There are several stories in which someone tries to gain profit from using a false Kid, but this is the shining first one! At the crime scene Kid announced a lot of Kid fans have assembled and shout "Kid! Kid!". Pretty clever idea, huh? Because this has developed to a classical element until today.

The Great Detective Appears!! Entrance of Saguru Hakuba! No, not only that, the chief inspector also shows his face...! Perhaps the junior was just worried because the top policeman never appears at the crime scene? (grin) By the way, Kid is so bad at ice skating because I'm so lousy in it myself.

Kaitou Under Scrutiny The skirt of Aoko's school uniform is so long and Kid's television is so big! From this you can tell the time! (Haha!) Apropos, the newspaper appearing on the last page is called „Oshima Daily Paper“ in the original version. Most of the newspapers shown in „Magic Kaito“ were named after my then editors. I beg your pardon. (grin)

Akako's Delivery Service Kaitou Kids measurements, 1.74 m (~ 5'9") and 58 kg (~ 128 lbs), naturally are my measurements from back then! The same goes for his blood type! (grin) Back then I thought it's really cool that it's possible to figure out skin colour and age of a person just by a single hair, but today, with DNA analysis you can figure out the whole identity of the person the hair belongs to. The progress of science is frightening... (Haha!)

(Extra Chapter) Yaiba vs. Kaito! I was told to draw a short, self-contained story and this dream sequence is the result. Back when I was a kid I already loved collaborations like „Mazinger Z vs. Devilman“, so I wanted to draw something like this. This is also the reason Kaitou Kid appears in Conan... (grin)

Blue Birthday The first time the gem Kaitou is after is the name origin for the title! Because this was the first „Magic Kaito“ after a very long time I debuted Kaitou Kid's arch-enemy and I can remember how much this motivated me... but it's also a story about a nightly firework in the midst of the city which must have made a lot of trouble in the surroundings... (grin)

Green Dream Oh well, this story is nothing special, but to be honest, it's this story which grew dear to my heart. (grin) What should I say about it? The rhythm is felicitous. This story was the first time I drew Kid's „signature“ we've grown so accustomed to. You can also tell from the name of one of the persons appearing that I really loved „Furuhata Ninzaburō“ back then - a japanese police detective drama.

Aoyama Kid ♥

Volume 4

Hello, it's me, Aoyama.

Since Magic Kaito is being republished I allow myself to show my memories about the past without further delay. (grin)

Crystal Mother This is the Kaito-train story I always wanted to draw! Including some allusions to "Lupin III" or "Sherlock Holmes" it became a story during which I could live it up... (grin) Snake, who got severely hurt in the tunnel returns in the following chapter completely unharmed. That's what I call "tough“! (Ha, ha!)

Red Tear Back when this story was published the first time, the thre first pages were in color! In fact, this created a mystery: „The gem on page 1 is blue, but the one on the cover page is red... Why oh why?“ Great that we can revive this mystery in all its glory! (grin) By the way, the closing scene in which all the photos containing the fondest memories are projected against the wall is an homage to the closing scene of the movie „Cinema Paradiso“. ♪ I used this highlight again in „Detective Conan – The Last Wizard of the Century“. (grin)

Black Star The first confrontation with the one and only Shinichi Kudo! In this story, Kaito says: „The inspector couldn't catch him even if he used a satellite system!“ But really, it's kind of surprising that he hasn't caught him before, isn't it?! (grin) Shinichi is firing a pistol? Akako wants to use magic to get rid of Shinichi? Little Kaito is flirting with Aoko? What a crazy story! (grin) Well, the scene in which Akako uses her magic powers was cut from TV syndication, but it was restored for the DVD, so everyone who wants to watch it, can do so now. ♥ Oh yeah, the title „Black Star“! I believe there are some readers who ask themselves why this gemstone served as the namesake of the story even though it's just mentioned in passing at the end. That's because Kaitou Kid himself is the "Black Star" after all ★ – hence the title! ♪

Golden Eye The first duel of the phantoms! (... maybe.) Catherine Zeta-Jones was the model for the character Ruby Jones. ♥ Well, they don't look very much alike... (Ha, ha!) In this story it's made clear that Kaito was born in June and Aoko in September! Exactly... Kaitou Kid may be a thief, but he is also a magician, so it really delighted me to slip in the name of the grandiose real-life magician Harry Houdini. (grin) There are a lot of tricky moments that show how much Detective Conan "poisoned" this story... (Ha, ha!)

Dark Knights The mask Nightmare is wearing is based on one I bought during a vacation in Spain, because I really liked it. It now hangs at the wall of my living room. (Ha, ha!) Again, in this story is a lot to analyze and moreover, it ends in a thought-provoking, grim mood, which isn't very typical for „Magic Kaito“. On the other hand, this isn't bad either, isn't it? Superintendent Chaki, an old acquaintance from Detective Conan, had his origin in this story. Further on, Hakuba's nanny „Baaya“ has her very first appearance in here! Actually, it's said that there is another nanny for him who has a more docile personality, but that's a different story altogether... (He, he...)

Phantom Lady (Preannouncement) This story revolves around how the original Kaitou Kid obtained a wonderfully beautiful jewel for the first time. ♥ It will be the first in Volume 5... I wonder when it will be released? (grin)

Volume 5

Hi, it's Aoyama ! Since a new volume of ''Magic Kaito'' came out, I have to delve into my memories from the past. PHANTOM LADY I wrote this story about Kaito's parents four years ago. I had stopped writing Magic Kaito for Conan and I thought : ''Wow, so much time has passed ?'' (laughs) If I recall correctly, his mother mutters ''Kaito, it's time for you to know'', and the story's finally here ! It's this story that finally revealed that Kaito's mother's name is ''Chikage''. It was my first time digitalizing a manuscript, I was glad I managed to portray the security sensor similar to phantom thieves stories so cooly, but I had to drew one night scenery after another, and that took time and so I almost didn't make it in a deadline. By the way, this story leads to Conan's Ryouma case, in volume 70. Read it if you're interested ! MIDNIGHT CROW When it was decided to animate the series, I had a meeting with the animation staff. We asked ourselves ''How are we going to finish the story ?''. So I suggested : ''Why not do one about a black Kaitou Kid that would be published in the Sunday ?''. And that's how I wrote Midnight Crow. I will never forget the staff's face when I told them ''Actually, Touichi is alive'' (laughs) Ikeda-san, Touichi's voice actor, had difficulty saying the line ''When you come in contact with an audience, it's a scene of duel...'' quickly ! <3 The ''sucker trick'' line comes from Kaito Kid's anime screenwriter Kunihiko Okada, who I thank very much. In the Phantom Lady chapter, Kaito's work as Kid was given by Chikage, but in Midnight Crow, he's supposed to quit because a lot happened in Las Vegas... but it's another story (laughs) SUN HALO This chapter was written to commemorate the 30th anniversary of Magic Kaito, so it had to be a love comedy <3 When I drew the chapter, Kaito's bike is a Suzuki GSX 250 R. I had forgotten that it was supposed to be broken, so I had Jii-chan say that a ''doctor friend'' helped him... I leave that to your imagination (laughs) Speaking of characters, Lucifer appears again ! As I thought, Akako uses red magic ! (Fortunately Akako doesn't exist in Conan's world (laughs)). The entrance hall in the chapter is based on Tottori's entrance hall, so please go there if you visit Tottori ! By the way, in Sun Halo, Aoko rides the bike with Kaito ! NONCHALANT LUPIN It's a short story I sent to a shounen magazine, and I got an award for it. As you can see, it was a prototype for ''Magic Kaito'' (laughs) The forms are different but there's no card gun. I drew this because the editor I had at that time told me : ''Show me a story you want to write''. It's my second work ! Now that I look back, I'm embarassed because it looks bad. (laughs) Anyway, the hero's name is Lupin, and the name of the story ''Nonchalant Lupin'', but I don't know where he's nonchalant... (laughs)

#reference #These are the ones that bug me the most about the translations honestly #Because these are the comments where people like to point and say 'DC and MK aren't the same world'#When the terms used only really indicate that their stories are separate; not their worldds #They're more separated into 'DC world' and 'MK world' in extremely loose terms that don't actually mean 'separate universes'#More just things like 'Akako is only going to be in MK because she can't appear in DC'#Which. Really gives more argument for their universes being the same; if there can't be a 'DC version' of Akako without breaking DC #Means if Akako were to appear in DC; she's implied to have magic; which could only be if she's the same Akako as MK #...Anyway; last post about this; unless more MK stuff comes up or I missed some #Which is possible; there's a lot of random information everywhere

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army-author · 7 years ago

Text

taehyung scenario | x and o

❝ You accidentally send ‘xo’ at the end of a text to your daughter’s teacher, and he seems to get the wrong idea... ❞

➸ prompt: My ex will be at the Christmas party, so you agreed to pose as my fiancé to keep them away.

➸ pairing: teacher taehyung x parent reader

➸ warnings: mentions of alcohol, brief mentions of bereavement

➸ requested by anon | 11.4k words | fluff, teacher au

In the busy whirl that is the life of a single parent you’ve done some pretty stupid things – like running out of the house in your pyjamas to try and get your daughter, Mia, to school on time, or accidentally giving her your lunch of chickpea salad while you went to work with her sandwiches made with teddy-bear shaped ham, or forgetting to check the weather before driving her to school on a snow day, only to realise your mistake and ending up needing to call in sick off work so you could stay home with her.

But out of all the stupid things you’ve done, distracted by the blur of days that are never long enough, this is by far the stupidest. You stare at your phone in horror, gaping down at the ‘xo’ send at the end of the text. That was not meant to be there. How could you absentmindedly tack on kisses and hugs, normally reserved for your mother alone, and accidentally send them to Mr. Kim, your daughter’s young, and unnaturally handsome teacher?

If only you could delete texts… if only you could delete yourself…

‘That would be fine xo’ was certainly not the appropriate response, to ‘Hello. This is Mr. Kim. I got your number from the school office. Sorry for the bother, but would it be possible to reschedule our parent-teacher meeting?’

You bury your head in your hands with a groan, having a mental breakdown as you sit alone in the car, waiting for Mia to come out of her singing lesson. Why do your brain and your fingers hate you, typing out things you don’t intend? You debate sending another text to explain yourself, but then decide that doing so will only make the whole situation more awkward. So instead you leave it, and pray he’ll just think you’re the sort of person that sends ‘x’s and ‘o’s to everyone.

Thankfully, Mia’s coming out of class now, clanging open the car door and clambering in, offering her bubbling conversation as a welcome distraction from your screw up.

“Hello!” she beams, clicking in her seatbelt and chucking her folder of music into the backseat.

“Hello, Mia Mouse, how was it?” you ask, which causes her to puff up her cheeks, and complain:

“You know I don’t like that nickname…”

“Sorry, Mia,” you keep smiling, “I’ll try to remember.”

Mia’s in the middle of a phase, starting when she hit the grown-up age of eight, where she’s decided that she doesn’t want to be cute anymore, and has discarded her old nickname, along with her old clothes, all shades of pink. Now she wears purple and blue, always opting for jeans, although you still sometimes see her staring yearningly at the sparkly section in the kids clothing section, not completely over her ‘girly-girl’ phase, despite her efforts to convince you otherwise.

“So, how was singing, Mia?”

With you now addressing her correctly, Mia goes on to tell you all about her class, how she got through her scales easily, and how her teacher complimented her for her technique. “She even said that if I keep this up I’m bound to get a solo for the school’s Christmas play this year,” she tells you, bouncing up and down in her seat, as you pull out of the singing teacher’s drive and head towards home.

“Wow, that’s amazing, Mia!”

As you drive through the bright lights of town, the accidental ‘xo’ is completely forgotten…

♡♡♡

That is until the day of parent-teacher interviews - then it suddenly hits you again as you sit alone outside Mr. Kim’s room, looking at the displays dripping colour, showing off the scribbly drawings of the children in Mia’s class. You jog your knee up and down as you wait, restless and anxious, realising you’ll have to explain yourself when Mr. Kim calls you inside. Maybe he’s forgotten, or doesn’t even care. A handsome man like him must be used to single parents flirting with him by now. If their lives are anything like yours, parent-teacher meetings may be the only time for flirting. There’s zero time for finding yourself a boyfriend while caring for Mia. You barely have time to care for yourself, you think, with your eyes self-consciously falling to the worn nails of your fingers, well-chewed from the stress of work and child rearing. You wonder how many numbers Mr. Kim gets slipped during these sorts of meetings, how many dates he’s been asked on over his desk. You shake your head to clear yourself of these thoughts and the impure jealousy that rises from them.

What’s it to you if the handsome teacher gets attention from women confident enough to show their affection? You’re happy in your own little bubble, just you and Mia, living contentedly together. Developing a crush is pointless. You try yo convince yourself of this.

The door opens at last, and Mr. Kim’s husky voice reverberates in the hall as he says, “Sorry for the wait. Would you like to come in now?”

You gather up your bag and coat and follow him into his classroom, splashed all over with bright colours, times tables pinned up on one wall, another wall showing off the children’s dabbling in poetry and painting, and in the far corner is the class Christmas tree, covered with decorations handmade by the children.

“Thank you so much for agreeing to reschedule our meeting,” Mr. Kim says, as he sits down at his desk and extends his hand to offer you the space across from him, “I’m sorry if this is inconvenient for you.”

“Uh… no… it’s fine,” you say, trying to keep yourself from staring as you sit down. You’re struck once again by just how handsome Mia’s teacher is. You’d forgotten it from the last parent-teacher meeting, your mind going rusty after all those months. Seeing him again is a shock to the system, battering down the imperfect copy your mind had created. With your lips feeling numb, despite the heaters in the school being switched to max, you press them together to get them working again, and quickly say, “About the text I sent you… the ‘x’ and ‘o’ were an accident. I have a habit of adding them to my messages without thinking… it wasn’t meant to mean anything… just in case you thought I was… flirting or something…” you trail off, disconcerted with Mr. Kim’s eyes boring into you.

He crosses his hands in front of his face, creating a bridge for his chin to rest on as he listens. “Well, yeah, I had expected so much… it would be odd for you to be so forward.”

You blush, and fiddle with your hands in your lap, absentmindedly picking at your ragged nails. He’s not wrong, but it bothers you that he’s able to pick up on your personality so easily from the few parent-teacher meetings you’ve had, already pinning you down as the type to send ‘xo’ by accident, rather than on purpose. Feeling the need to defend yourself, you ask him, “How would you possibly know how forward I can be?”

Mr. Kim raises his eyebrows over his hands. “Because I have to deal with women who actually send me ‘x’s and ‘o’s on purpose, and they do an awful lot more than just that when we meet in person... Did you know that the mother that came in before you spent the entire meeting trying to play footsie with me under the table?”

“No!”

He leans forward. “That’s not all. When I went to shake her hand afterwards, she tried to lean in and do the European-style greeting, you know, with, like, kissing on the cheeks and stuff.” His eyes glitter as your own widen. “So, I figured since you’ve never tried anything like that with me, you probably didn’t mean those ‘x’ and ‘o’s. It was just a guess though.”

“I can’t believe you had to deal with that…” you say, “These meetings aren’t meant for flirting… they’re for our children.”

“Yeah… well…” He leans back in his chair again and shrugs, “Not all parents are as committed to their child’s education as you apparently.” He laughs mirthlessly. “But the flirting has certainly got a lot worse for me since I broke up with my girlfriend.”

This is new information for you. In fact, him having a girlfriend in the first place is news to you. You make a point of not delving too deep into the personal lives of your daughter’s teachers.

“That’s rough,” you nod sympathetically, as Mr. Kim’s eyes droop slightly, probably recalling all the trouble the break-up has caused him.

His hand falls to his mussed brown hair, carding his fingers through it as he sighs, “Yeah. Wish she hadn’t been so vocal about it on Facebook… she probably knew the trouble it would cause me.”

You look down to inspect your nails, an excuse to stop staring at Mr Kim, whose face is like caramel candy for your eyes. All calories.

He lets out a brisk laugh, more of a bark, saying, “Guess that’s what I get for dating a teacher! Let me give you a piece of advice, never date a co-worker. Not only do you have to see them every weekday, but they also know all the worst parts of your job and know how to make them even worse!”

Somehow this parent-teacher meeting has evolved into a therapy session for Mr. Kim, who seems unbothered or unaware that he’s unloading all of his problems onto you. You wonder if you should direct the conversation back to Mia or leave him free to ramble. It’s late in the evening, and he’s probably flagging after having to deal with so many other parents, some of which don’t seem to know what personal boundaries are, so you decide you should cut him some slack if the meeting is a little disorganised. You hum softly, to show your understanding and let him continue:

“And what’s worse, whenever your boss organises any kind of meet-up, you end up having to see your ex outside of working hours as well. Like at Christmas parties. Christmas parties! They’re the worst when you’ve had a break-up, did you know that? She’s going to ruin it for me… and Christmas parties used to be my favourite thing as well…” His lips press together, as he licks them, considering all his problems. Then he gives himself a shake and says, “Anyway, Mia!”

At last the meeting gets back on track. But you can’t get rid of the feeling that Mr. Kim still has more to say on the subject of exes, that the meeting took too sharp a turn back on course, and that something is expected of you after his tangent. You get the sense that he wants to ask you something, but you can’t decide what it is. With this question clouding your mind, you try to listen as he explains how Mia’s grades are going, not telling you anything you don’t already know – Mia is doing well with music and art, but won’t show any interest for maths. You bite your lip, wishing you were better at maths so you could help her with that.

When that the meeting starts wrapping up, painless, no problems, Mr. Kim tells you, “Mia seems happy, she gets on well with the class, and she’s a delight to teach.” Your cheeks glow with pleasure and pride, hearing him praising your daughter.

As he collects his papers together, tapping them against the desk to straighten them, you grab your bag and coat, standing up ready to leave, before he halts what he’s doing, and says, “Actually… could I ask you something?”

You pause, the niggling question you had wedged in your head popping up again. “What’s that?”

He licks his lips, pink tongue poking out for a split second before he says, “Well… since you seem like a sensible person, with a good head on your shoulders… what do you suggest I do for the Christmas party?”

Your mouth freezes again, stuck slightly parted as you stare at him, caught, like a deer in headlights.

He smiles at you, only one side of his lips rising up.

“Why are you asking me?”

“Because,” the other side of his mouth finally rises up into a symmetrical grin, showing off straight teeth that make you understand why the mother he met before you had tried playing footsie under the desk. “You and I are friends now.”

“Friends?” you repeat.

“You sent me ‘x’ and ‘o’s at the end of your texts, and I decided to keep your slip up a secret, instead of laughing about it with my colleagues in the staff room. That makes us friends.”

“What? So doing the decent thing and keeping your mouth shut somehow… makes us friends?”

He shrugs, “It’s enough for children to consider each other friends. Sometimes I think adults should try to live as simply as kids do. Life would be a lot easier that way.”

Not entirely sure how much you agree, you still admit that the idea is nice, but not nice enough to pull down your sceptical brows.

“Listen, how about I tell you a secret, and then we’ll be even?” Mr. Kim grins, sticking his hands in his pockets. For a split second he reminds you of the young children he teaches, looking like a school boy ready to break a few rules, rather than a grown man, responsible for the education of twenty children. Before you can tell him that you don’t need to hear it, he leans forward a little, and says, “I left our class hamster food next to my ex’s lunchbox last week so that it got covered in seeds and hamster litter, and then I blamed it on the children.”

“That’s incredibly petty,” you say.

He just winks. “Don’t tell anyone.”

You shake your head, fighting off a smile that seems inappropriate. “Well, if that’s the way you play, then for the Christmas party: I say you make your ex suffer. Especially after all the trouble she’s caused you with flirty parents…”

His eyes light up, and he begins rubbing his hands together, “See, I knew you were the perfect person to ask! What would you suggest?”

Caught up in his schoolboy glee, you can’t help but go along, letting your own mind run wild with childish vice. “The Christmas party would be the perfect time to show her how well you’re getting on without her.”

“Like… I’m earning more money and living in the lap of luxury without her?” he asks, brows furrowing with confusion. Despite the evil glint in his eye, he’s sweetly innocent when it comes to making trouble for his ex.

“No, no,” you shake your head firmly, “I’m talking about getting on well romantically! Go to the party with a new girlfriend, or better yet, a fiancé, and show your ex that you don’t need her… and if it gets out that you’re with someone new, then maybe your problems with overly… interested… parents will go away as well.”

“But I don’t have a fiancé...”

“I'm not suggesting you actually get one. Just pretend. To get your ex off your back.”

He stares at you, mouth hanging open. You worry you’ve frayed a wire in his brain with your your plan. But then he’s leaping from his chair and rushing around the desk to grab your hands in his own, bowing his head to you, “You’re god level when it comes to this!” he gasps, eyes rising up to meet yours again, “I’m not worthy. Thank you, thank you!”

You can’t help but laugh at his genuineness, releasing yourself from his hands with a shy shrug, “Well… I do what I can…”

“Will you be my fiancé then?”

You stop, shock crashing into you, leaving you speechless and breathless. You swallow, and finding your tongue once more, manage to stutter, “I didn’t mean with me. I – it was just a suggestion. I wasn’t-”

“Please?” He clasps his hands together, “I thought we agreed we’re friends, and a friend would do this for another friend.”

“No. You agreed that we’re friends,” you remind him, “I had no say in it.”

“You were the one who sent me ‘xo’ on your text.”

“By accident.”

He closes his eyes, “Please. Help me out here. You can’t suggest such a good plan, and then leave me hanging with no one to carry it out with!”

You consider carefully, then tilt you head to the side. “Fine.”

His eyes light up.

“But on one condition.”

His eyes go dim again.

“If I agree to this, then you have to get Mia a part in the Christmas play this year. She’s been working hard on her music, and she really wants to be in it.” You’re not doing this if there’s nothing in it for you... besides a handsome fake fiancé for an evening that is.

Mr. Kim stares at you for a few seconds. You can see the cogs working in his mind. Finally, he nods his head. “Alright, I’ll see what I can do!” The he sticks his hand out to you. “Do we have a deal?”

You should know better, but, somehow, you find your hand in his and the fate for your Christmas holidays is sealed. “We have a deal, Mr. Kim.”

“Please, it’s Taehyung. We’re friends now.”

♡♡♡

As Christmas draws closer, your anxieties grow worse, and with Mia running to the car after school to you to tell you that she got the solo part for the Christmas play, you can only smile, while secretly dreading what you promised in payment. Seeing her face lit up with joy reminds you why you asked for it to begin with, and you know you need to bear the burden of it. Seeing her happy is all you want, and if one night of feigned romance is all it takes, then you’ll do it gladly.

“Well done, Mia Mouse,” you say, “You deserve it!” And although you know that she does, there’s a small seed of guilt rooted in your heart, reminding you of the cost of her happiness.

She doesn’t even seem to notice the unwanted nickname as you start up the engine and pull out of the school car park, casually adding, “Mr. Kim was asking about you by the way.”

You choke on a yelp of surprise, supressing it, since you don’t want your daughter to get suspicious. “Oh, really… did he?”

“Yeah,” Mia grins across from her seat, “He asked me how you were, and then he told me to tell you that he said hi. Wasn’t that nice of him?”

“I suppose it was,” you say, trying your best to concentrate on the road, while your mind is racing elsewhere.

“I really like Mr. Kim,” Mia decides, as she stretches her feet up onto the glove box.

“Feet down, Mouse,” you remind, and she kick her legs back again with a sigh, before continuing:

“All my friends say Mr. Kim’s very handsome. Do you think he’s handsome?”

Suddenly it feels as if the Spanish Inquisition has begun in your car.

“Well… I suppose… he is classically handsome…” you answer, “He looks like he could be an actor, or a model.”

“But do you think he’s handsome?”

You just shoot her a quizzical look. “Why all the questions?”

Mia shrugs her shoulders, turning to look out the passenger window, “I don’t know…. Just… don’t you think it’s time you got a boyfriend?”

“Mia!” You almost swerve off he road in your surprise, but quickly correct your steering, while you try to adjust your voice to a volume more appropriate inside the car, “What’s brought this on all of a sudden?”

“Well… it’s just… all my other friends’ parents are married, or they have boyfriends or girlfriends. I was just thinking… since everyone’s parents will be going to see the Christmas play…” she trails off, leaving your mind reeling. All her life you’ve tried to keep her happy, straining to fulfil the roles of two parents at once, and sacrificing your own time and happiness for it. But you know there are some things you just can’t do, things that a father could. It has crossed your mind multiple times that you shouldn’t stay single, even if you only want a boyfriend for her sake, but there’s never been time, you’ve never had the energy, and she never seemed to be bothered by it. Until now. Maybe she’s only just starting to realise that something’s missing.

After a long silence, only the road rumbling below you for accompaniment, she asks, “Do you still miss dad?”

“Of course. Every day. But I believe he’s somewhere better now, watching over us.”

She smiles to herself. “I like to think that as well. Even if I don’t remember him. Do you think he’s proud of me for getting the solo?”

“Absolutely,” you tell her.

With that, the subject of boyfriends is dropped, but that doesn’t stop your singleness from burning in your mind for the rest of the day.

♡♡♡

As you sit in your room that evening, with Mia tucked up in bed, (although you know that she’s still up from the light peeking out under her door), you stare at your phone, scrolling through the lists of dating sites on offer. There’s bound to be one out there specifically made for single parents. The bright light burns into your retinas as you search, the itching reminding you that you should sleep.

You drop your phone onto the bed. It was a silly idea in the first place. As if online dating will fix everything.

But then you remember Mia in the car, wishing she could have a father to watch her in the school play, and you pick up your phone again, clicking on one of the more promising sites. You’re almost ready to sign in, finger hovering over the screen, until a text flashes up, blocking your finger with the words, ‘Mr. Kim Taehyung’. You pause, wondering why he’s texting… and at this hour…

You tap on his message to open it up, and read:

‘Well, Mia’s in the school play, so I suppose I should propose to you now. I’m looking forward to seeing my new fiancé at the Christmas party ;) The dress code is ‘smart casual’ by the way xoxo’

Despite knowing it’s all a joke, you find yourself smiling fondly at your phone screen. He’s not planning on letting you forget the ‘x’ and ‘o’s any time soon.

You reply back:

‘Wow. What a romantic proposal… not... I’ll see you there xoxo’ just to continue the joke, and then set your phone down and turn over in bed, the idea of dating sites dropped for now.

After all, signing up for that would be cheating on your fake fiancé. You can worry about finding a boyfriend once all this is over. You convince yourself that’s the reason for leaving the dating sites alone, but you know there’s more there, lurking below the surface, stemming from Taehyung’s interest in you. It would be foolish to assume his jokingly flirty texts mean anything – he’s unaware of his affect ninety percent of the time. But he’s not completely clueless, and you wonder if he knows what he’s doing with you.

You curl your toes under the duvet, and fall asleep with a grin on your face.

♡♡♡

The school looks different at night. This is the first thought to strike you as you park in the driveway, ready for your evening serving as Taehyung’s fake fiancé. Well, as ready as you can possibly be with a storm of butterflies in your belly.

You left Mia happy at home with the babysitter, who she insists she’s old enough to not need, although you know better. Now, you have nothing to worry about, except whether or not you’ll make a fool of yourself in front of Taehyung. The chances are highly probable, but you still find yourself smiling as you hop out into the freezing air, wishing you’d brought a coat to compliment your sweater dress and uncomfortable high heels. With your arms crossed around you to hold in as much heat as possible, you run to the school, using the side door that Taehyung promised to leave unlocked for you. You head to his classroom, where he’s still crouched over his desk, marking papers. He seems completely absorbed in his work, not even getting up to switch on the light, he sits in the dark, squinting at his work.

You rap lightly on his door, and he looks up, wide-eyed, like he forgot he invited you over to his room before the party started.

“Hi,” you hold up your hand awkwardly, not sure if you’re interrupting him from the flow of work.

A smile breaks across his face when he sees you, and he quickly jumps up from his desk.

“Hello,” he purrs in that deep voice of his, “I’m glad you didn’t bail on me at the last minute.” He almost goes for a hug, but then decides against it at the last moment, and instead offers you a quick pat on the shoulder, as he surveys your outfit. “You look good!”

“What about you?” you take in his well-fitting trousers, red tie, and white shirt, tucked in to accentuate his slim figure, “You look amazing!” you can’t help but gush. Amazing is an understatement. He really does look like a model. “You said it was smart casual,” you complain, “There’s nothing casual about this!”

He looks down at his outfit. “You don’t think it’s okay?”

“Well, no, it’s fine,” you tell him, “But I’ll feel underdressed standing next to you all evening.”

“What?” He pouts his lips, “But you look so pretty. You’ll be fine.”

He might say that, but you still feel embarrassed about your simple dress, and black tights, with no jewellery to set it off. Self-consciously, you wring your hands together.

“Oh, before I forget!” Taehyung dashes back to his desk and hunts about in the drawer by his seat, pulling out a small box, “I got this to make our story convincing.”

He opens the box and pulls out a shining ring, with a diamond sparkling at the centre. “Give me your hand.” His voice is low in the darkened room, pulsing through you like a tremor in the earth below your feet. Body responding to him before your brain does, you hold out your hand, and he takes it in his own, slender fingers wrapping around yours as he pulls you a step closer, and carefully slides the ring on. With his hand still supporting yours, you admire the shine of the diamond on your finger.

“Where did you get this?” you ask, staring in awe, “I hope you didn’t go out and buy this just for me.” It’s meant as a joke, but then you remember his recent break-up and the thought shoots through you, violently, like a bullet, that maybe this was intended for his ex.

He quickly dispels your worries, with: “It was my grandma’s.”

“Your grandma’s?” You gape at him, “Are you sure it’s okay if I wear it?”

He grins, “It’s fine. It’s what she would have wanted.”

“For you to use it to get revenge on your ex?” You raise your eyebrow at him, and he offers a wide grin in return:

“She had a good sense of humour.”

Still unsure, but happy that he deems you worthy of his grandma’s heirloom, if only for one night, you remember: “We should probably come up with a good story before we go out.”

“Oh right!” he frowns, “How should we say we met?”

You fall silent, thinking, before you decide, “Maybe we shouldn’t stray too far from the truth. We can say that we met at a parent-teacher meeting.”

“Yeah,” Taehyung nods, “And then I was interested in you, so I asked if we could grab coffee together sometime… but you played hard to get…”

“Until I thought about Mia and how she would need a good male figure in her life,” you say, blushing at how close it is to the truth.

Taehyung hangs for a breath, considering what you’ve said, “And when you saw how good I was with children, and how well I got on with Mia, you decided I was the one.”

“And the rest is history.”

You stare at each other in the half-light, Taehyung’s pupils dilated without the sun. For a second you almost let yourself get swept up in your made-up romance, tantalisingly close to reality. It could almost be true, but it’s just out of your reach.

“I like that story. Let’s go with that,” Taehyung nods, breaking the spell, as he goes to grab his blazer from the hanger by the door. His designer clothes look odd hanging off one of the pegs designed for children’s coats. He puts it on, and then gives a spin for you, “Do I look okay?”

You beckon him over, and when he reaches you, you stretch out your hand and hook your finger through his tie, loosening it slightly before you pull out the top button. “There, now you look a bit more casual.”

He chuckles, a deep sound at the back of his throat. “You know I have to tell off my students when they don’t have their school ties neat, so this feels a bit hypocritical.”

You shrug with a smile, “What your students don’t know won’t hurt them. It can be another secret we share.”

His smile widens, lips parting. “Alright.” He reaches out his hand to you, and you take hold of it. With one shake, he promises, “Partners in crime.”

“Partners in crime.”

As you leave the room, you keep your hand in his, lacing your fingers together – just as practice for later, when you’ll have to convince his ex that you’re in love.

♡♡♡

The school Christmas party is being held at the bar and restaurant in the next street over from the school, but a few of the teachers are meeting up outside the front doors to walk down together. As you approach the crowd, you feel your stomach dipping, and grab Taehyung’s hand a little tighter. “Is she there?” you whisper, to which Taehyung answers:

“No. No sign of Inna yet. I’ll warn you when she shows up.”

Two men spot Taehyung and come over, smiling. You fix on a smile, despite the worry pricking your skin.

“Well, Taehyung, who’s this?” The taller one asks, “We didn’t know you were seeing someone.”

You freeze under their curious gazes, but Taehyung, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world, announces, “This is my fiancé.”

The two men’s faces go slack in surprise, while Taehyung, seemingly oblivious of their reaction, explains to you, “These are my friends, Namjoon and Seokjin. We’re the three Mr. Kims of the school, and we ended up getting to know each other when all of our photocopying would get sent to the wrong Mr. Kim.”

You chuckle as he tells you the story, but can’t remain completely ignore the shocked stares you’re receiving from the other two Mr. Kims.

“Taehyung?” the taller one, introduced as Namjoon, exclaims, “You’re engaged?”

Taehyung turns back to them with an innocent smile, eyes devoid of anything worthy of suspicion, “Yeah!”

“And you didn’t tell us?”

Taehyung scratches at the nape of his neck, “Well… after what happened with Inna I didn’t want to go around announcing my latest adventures in love… but things are going really well, obviously,” he holds up the hand that holds yours, showing the shining ring on your finger, “So, I guess this is our announcement.”

Seokjin and Namjoon just stare at him blankly. “No way,” Namjoon says, “There’s no way.”

With a husky giggle, Taehyung raises his hands up in defeat. “Okay… you got us… actually, keep this between us four, but we’re just pretending to be engaged to keep Inna off my back…”

Namjoon frowns, dimples pressing into his cheeks as his lips thin into a line. Seokjin on the other hand, seems excited by the idea, giving Taehyung’s arm a light push. “Mr. Kim number three! That’s sneaky!”

You incline your head towards Taehyung, raising your eyebrows in a question. “Is it okay that they know?” you ask.

“You can trust these two,” he says, “They won’t tell anyone.”

After all you had shared with Taehyung, you feel oddly let down that he had so easily revealed your plan to these tow men. Betrayal might have been an over-exaggerated reaction, but there’s no other word to describe the nibbling in your chest.

As the group starts moving towards the restaurant, ready to meet the other teachers who are already there, your feet drag and Taehyung ends up pulling on your arm a little to keep up with his co-workers. His head turns back as he walks, face lit up with the blues of the Christmas lights. “You okay?” he asks, “Too cold? Do your feet hurt in those shoes?”

You shake your head. “No, I’m fine.” But already he’s moving back, shrugging off his blazer for you, and offering you his elbow to relieve some of the weight off your high-heeled shoes. With him fussing over you it’s hard to stay upset, even if you do feel some childish disappointment stirring in your gut because your secret doesn’t belong to just you and him.

You barely have the right to be upset in the first place; you can’t explain why you feel upset about it, let alone try to relate it to him.

With Taehyung helping you along, the scent of his cologne leaking into your head from his blazer, you walk in silence behind the rest of the group.

“So, how’s Mia,” Taehyung asks, making conversation as you try to keep balanced on your heels.

“She’s good,” you say, face softening into a smile when you think of her, “I left her with a babysitter, which she was a little upset about. She’s at that stage now where she thinks she’s old enough to stay home by herself… maybe that’s me being too protective.”

Taehyung shakes his head, a laugh rumbling through him, “No, a babysitter’s probably for the best, although the name ‘babysitter’ isn’t so good. Kids don’t like to be called ‘babies’ and they certainly don’t like to be ‘sat’ on.”

The joke is stupid enough to make you crack a grin. “Yeah… with Mia there certainly won’t be any sitting happening anyway. The sitter will be on her toes all night!”

“Mia’s great,” Taehyung rumbles, “Always so cheery when she’s in class. And so full of energy.”

Your chest swells with pride when you hear this.

“And so talented too,” Taehyung continues, “Maybe I shouldn’t be telling you this now, since you might feel a bit cheated, but she actually got the choir solo without any of my input… so I guess I didn’t even uphold my end of the bargain.”

“That’s my girl!” you smile, so overcome with pride that you can’t get angry at Taehyung’s deception.

On a high from your daughter’s accomplishment, you finally arrive at the restaurant, and all your good feelings come crashing down, to leave cold fear. Your hand grips at the fabric of Taehyung’s shirt as the other teachers who were waiting at the restaurant wave you inside, babbling over who should sit where and how nice everyone looks.

“Which one’s the ex?” you ask, tugging on Taehyung’s sleeve to keep his attention amidst the buzz of noise.

Taehyung nods in the direction of a woman sitting at the far side of the table, conversing with some friends. “That’s her,” his voice sounds distant, something you’ve never heard in his tone before, “That’s Inna.”

You sneak a glance at her, as casual as possible, and feel your insides wring themselves out. She’s absolutely stunning, dyed blonde hair hanging in waves around her slim face, strong make-up making her look like she just stepped out of a beauty magazine. She really does seem perfect for the model-like man by your side. You’re struck by your own ordinariness compared to her, and despite not even being in a real relationship with Taehyung, you feel your confidence departing you in tatters.

She glances over, sensing your looking her way, and her false-eyelash eyes narrow when she spots your arm through Taehyung’s. She mutters something to her friends, and then stands up, giving you a display of her tight-fitting back dress, sparkling down to the middle of her thigh, showing off well shaped legs, accentuated with tall heels. She walks over, a lot more confident in her stilettoes than you are in your own small heeled shoes.

“Taehyung,” she coos, and his eyes widen at her tone. You’re not sure if he’s surprised to see her talking to him, or if he’s struck by the dress that leaves little to the imagination, but you see him lick his lips nervously, before he responds:

“Inna. It’s been a while.”

She smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes, which stay glued to the ring on your finger. “Yes, well… I figured since it’s Christmas I’d try to be nice. You know… season of good will and all that.”

Taehyung winces a half-smile. “That’s good of you.”

She giggles, high-pitched and breathy. It’s the kind of laugh you used when you were in high school, trying to make boys look your way. “And who is this, Taehyung?” she finally looks to your face, acknowledging your existence as more than an arm attached to her ex. Her brown eyes sparkle bright as she sweeps you up and down. Embarrassed, you drop your gaze to the floor – the room suddenly swims with heat and the smell of wine.

“This is my fiancé,” Taehyung explains.

“Fiancé?” Inna’s voice rises above the murmuring of her colleagues, turning to you with her mouth hanging open in exaggerated surprise, although you can see something else, much more sinister burning below the surface, “Wow. So soon?” Her smile is scarier than the most furious of glares, and you feel as if she’s stabbed you in the face with her bitter-cocoa eyes.

“Yep,” Taehyung pops the ‘p’ in his response, souning oddly terse compared to his normal tone. This whole thing is getting more and more awkward by the second, and it suddenly strikes you how bad this idea is.

Taehyung continues, “When the right one comes along, you just know, don’t you, baby?” He nuzzles his nose into your neck, skin cold against you, and you bite down on your surprise, smiling through your shock.

“That’s right.”

“I’m so lucky,” Taehyung breathes against your skin, and even though you know it’s a show for Inna, you can’t stop your heart from missing a beat. Maybe he’s spooning in on a little too thick now.

You see Inna’s lips pucker in a scowl, before she softens out her pretty face again and smiles, “Well, isn’t that just great!”

There’s an awkward silence, and then she continues, “Well, anyway... my boyfriend’s taking me on a trip to France next month.”

Jealousy is already rippling out from her, and you’re not a minute into conversation. You swallow, not sure if you should laugh, or bolt away before she rips your face off - those unsmiling eyes in her smiling face promise your pain.

As Taehyung stiffly mutters about how nice France will be, and how she should take advantage of all the good food while she’s over there, you feel a hand slide around your shoulder, and Namjoon and Seokjin appear at your other side, saying, “Taehyung, we’re just going to steal your fiancé away for a split second.” Before you or Taehyung can protest, they drag you out of his hold, and towards the other group.

With the air clearing the further you get from Inna, you breathe a sigh of relief.

“We thought you needed some help,” Namjoon says, “Inna looks about ready to claw that ring off your finger.”

“Will Taehyung be okay?” you worry, glancing behind to see him standing poker-straight, feigning interest while Inna talks.

Seokjin nods his head. “We’ll give them a second alone to sort themselves out, and then we should probably keep them away from each other for the rest of the evening.”

You can’t keep your gaze from straying back to Taehyung as his friends lead you around the group, politely introducing you to the other teachers. Your stomach squirms uncomfortably seeing Taehyung talking with his ex, and you wonder what’s wrong with you. You can’t be worried about him being with his old lover when you don’t even count as a new lover. Still, you can’t relax until he manages to detangle himself from the knots of Inna’s conversation, and escapes back to your side.

“You okay?” you ask him, as he slots his hand back into yours.

“Yeah. She just kept on talking about how nice her boyfriend is, and how much money he’s spending on her…” you see Taehyung’s jaw tensing as he talks, and rub your thumb up and down the back of his hand, soothing.

“Do you think she’s jealous?”

“Jealous?” Taehyung looks at you, “What do you mean?”

You raise your shoulders in a small shrug. “What I mean is… in her mind you’ve left her and got on with your life. You’ve got it all settled. She’s trying to prove that she’s got everything she could want, that she’s just as happy as you…” You let out a sigh through your nose, “Sorry… I came up with this idea just to keep her off your back, but maybe it made the whole situation worse.” But even as you explain this, another possibility is burning bright in your head: that Inna isn’t jealous of Taehyung for getting his life sorted out, but she’s jealous of you, realising what a great guy she got rid of.

As her eyes burn through you from the other side of the room, you become more convinced of this possibility, and a curiosity niggles at you. How exactly did Taehyung and Inna part ways… and is there a possibility of them getting back together? You glance up at Taehyung, who’s refusing to look back at his ex, and swallow before asking, “Sorry if this is too personal, but how exactly did you break up with her?”

Taehyung’s sides heave in a deep sigh. “It’s… not too personal. But it is a complicated story and I was never good with words-”

Before he can even start, the man you recognise as the headmaster is tapping his wine glass with a spoon, and saying: “Dinner will be served soon, and before we all take our seats, I’d just like to say a few quick words.”

“Ha!” Taehyung mutters under his breath, “When he says quick words what he really means is a ten page pre-made speech.”

You can’t help but giggle at this, and quickly disguise it as a cough, while the other teachers fall silent, listening.

By the time the headmaster is done thanking everyone, your feet are aching in your shoes, and it’s a relief to sit down at the table next to Taehyung. For a second, as Inna passes your spot, you worry that she’ll sit down next to you and make the whole evening awkward, but instead Namjoon and Seokjin quickly slot themselves into the seats around you, and Inna ends up at the other end of the table, out of sight and out of mind.

The rest of the dinner passes by in a blur of lulling conversation, and a few glasses of wine to make the meals melt together in a swirling of jokes and laughter. It’s pleasant, sitting by Taehyung’s side, with him smiling and laying his hand on top of yours on the table when the occasion calls for it. You had forgotten what it was like to go out without Mia, but this is a pleasant reminder.

Before you know it, your dessert plates are being taken from you, and a few teachers are waving goodbye, while another group talk about going upstairs to the bar for a couple more drinks.

You’re aware that you should get home to Mia, but Taehyung’s colleagues are pulling him back, saying, “Come on, Taehyung. It’s not like you to go home early.”

He pauses, stuck between the hold of his friends and your own hand wound in his. He looks back to you, clearly torn, and you know how bad it will look if you separate now.

For a second you worry he’ll give in to his friends, but then he shakes his head, stepping towards you. “Sorry, but my fiancé needs to get home soon. We’ve left Mia with a babysitter, but I’m sure she’ll want us home soon.”

Your heart swells with gratitude, thankful that he explained it for you, not leaving you to flounder among his friends that you barely know.

But his co-workers are unconvinced, cajoling him – “Just one more drink. Don’t tell us that getting engaged has made you boring!”

Inna choses this exact moment to insert herself into the conversation, saying, “I never thought you’d be the type to go for someone with kids, Taehyung.” Her voice is icy, and you don’t know if the frost is directed at you or at Taehyung, but it makes you shiver, despite the heat in the room.

Taehyung gapes at her, clearly lost as to what he should do, searching his brain for what to say. In your hand, you can feel his fingers damp. “Well… Inna… like I said, when you meet the one, you just know, you know? And I love Mia as well. I really do. She’s a part of the family…”

Inna sniffs, and then shoots you a look you can’t quite fathom. With the exchange clearly finished, Taehyung’s friends butt in once more, and with one firm tug on his arm, pull him towards the bar, saying,“Mia can wait. You don’t mind, right?” Not wanting to cause a scene, you bend:

“One more drink’s fine.”

And so, you find yourself being pulled up the stairs to the blaring music of the bar, and the burning bright lights of the small dancefloor set up at its side.

“Sorry you got dragged into this,” Seokjin murmurs to you, as the group detaches you from Taehyung, herding him towards the bar to order drinks, and with Taehyung turning back to give you a guilty grin, you press your lips together in a line, and turn your attention to the other Mr. Kim.

“It really is okay. Mia can handle herself,” you tell Seokjin. You know it’s true, but you still feel bad. It’s already approaching eleven o’clock and you said you’d be back at half ten.

“I don’t know if you’ve realised,” Seokjin says, “But Taehyung’s pretty popular at our school. He’s sort of known as the mood maker among our co-workers, and we all joke that a party can’t be a party without him. That’s why it’s important he stays… even if it’s only for a little while.”

“Really?” you watch as Taehyung frowns over the bar menu, and then gives his order to the bartender, adam’s apple moving as he shouts to be heard over the music.

“You’ll see what I mean,” Seokjin offers you a wink, and then moves over to talk with Namjoon, while you slide back to Taehyung’s side again.

“This is okay, right?” he asks, as his rum is slid over to him, “You’re not just saying it’s fine when it’s really not fine?”

You nod. “I said I’d be home by half ten, but Mia’s pretty independent, so she won’t be worried… I just hope the babysitter has the sense to put her to bed soon. She’ll be grumpy tomorrow if she doesn’t get to bed early…”

Taehyung chuckles at this, “Yes, I’ve seen her grumpy in class. She’s certainly a force to be reckoned with.” He takes his rum in one gulp, and then sucks in a breath through his teeth with the alcoholic burn. “We’ll leave after a few songs, okay?”

You nod as he slips from your hand, shrugging off his blazer and handing it to you. With a smile your way, eyes bright, he heads for the dancefloor, loosening his tie. He means serious business when it comes to partying, and you can’t help but smile after him, while the other teachers begin cheering as he steps onto the dancefloor.

As the next song starts up, you’re not entirely sure what you’re expecting. With Taehyung this could go either way - he could take dancing completely seriously, or he could make a whole joke out of it. It turns out that it’s a mixture of the two. He begins striking strong poses, with legs and limbs twisting, all in time with the music, and all completely over exaggerated, while still looking like they could be the ending poses of a fashion runway. You end up laughing along with the other teachers, and every so often, he’ll shoot a glace to where you stand at the edge of the floor, gauging your reaction, and obviously happy when he sees you grinning at him.

As you wait on the edge of the group, you sense someone sidling up beside you, and turn to see Inna by your side.

“Hi,” she offers you a smile, and you return it, as polite as possible.

“Hello.”

“Um… listen…” she curls a strand of bleached blonde hair around her finger, “Can I talk to you… somewhere a bit quieter?”

Your stomach twists, worrying what she could have planned for you. You’d rather not agree, but you don’t want to be rude, so you shrug, “Sure.”

She heads back towards the stairs leading down to the quieter foyer of the restaurant, and you have no choice but to follow behind, but not without shooting a glance back to the dancefloor, desperate for help. Taehyung pops into your vision for a split second in between all the other bodies, and his brows raise quizzically at you, while you give him a look that translates roughly to: “I have no idea what she wants with me, but I’m scared”.

On the ground floor again, Inna turns to you, and you cross your arms defensively, asking, “What do you want?”

She sighs, running a hand through her hair, before she says, “Listen, I know I might have come across as a little bit… cold tonight, but I don’t want you to take it the wrong way. I was just... um... surprised that Taehyung’s already thinking about marriage! And to someone who already has a child as well!”

“What’s wrong with having a child?” you ask, ready to shield yourself from whatever judgement she might throw.

“Well… you know,” she raises her eyebrows as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “It’s just extra baggage. And I didn’t think Taehyung was… mature enough to handle that.”

Irritation stirs inside you, “Actually, Taehyung’s amazing with children. You should know that yourself, seeing him in school everyday.”

She snickers, “Yeah. Only because he’s a child himself!” She raises her hand to her mouth, and clears her throat before continuing, “Ah. Maybe I’m coming off as rude again. I really don’t mean it.”

You’re believing it less and less every time she says it.

“Seeing Taehyung acting so mature now, I thought maybe I should start acting a little more my age myself,” she goes on, “And since I’m an adult, I’d like to tell you that I don’t have any bitterness towards you, even if you are with my ex. I can move past that. And I think it would be nice if we became friends.” She smiles sweetly at this, extending her hand to you.

She seems to have the same ways of securing friendships as Taehyung, settling it over a handshake. But this feels different from when you agreed to help Taehyung. Something in her smile warns you that there’s more to her than her sugar-coated words, and you keep both hands firmly by her side, refusing her offer.

She scowls as you remain motionless.

“Sorry,” you say, “I think… it would be best if we just kept to ourselves. You’ve broken up with Taehyung for your own reasons, and I think you should try to stay out of each other’s lives now.”

“Oh, I see how it is,” she snaps, acerbic as she jerks her hand back to her side, placing it on her hip, “Whatever. If you’re worried about me, then don’t be. I don’t want him back. You’re welcome to him.” And with that she storms off.

Seeing her terse reply is enough evidence that you did the right thing. From her track record of passive aggression, and her complaining about Taehyung all over social media, you already know she only wanted to use you as yet another way to get back at her ex, as if she hadn’t made his life miserable enough. She can’t seem to let go of her anger. You feel a little sorry for her, and for her new boyfriend. Only a little.

Returning upstairs, you decide it’s about time you went back home. Taehyung’s still busy on the dancefloor. As he spots you in the crowd, he waves you over and you read his lips moving, trying to shout over the loud music, “Come dance!”

“We need to go now,” you try to tell him, and he frowns at you, obviously not hearing you over the thrumming beat. You try again, raising your voice, but he still looks totally lost, instead just shouting, “Come on!” and you let him pull you onto the floor, holding your hand as he continues to make a spectacle of himself in front of his co-workers. You bow your head, hiding your face in his shoulder to escape the embarrassment as he keeps moving. But as you nestle closer to him, his movements becoming smaller so he doesn’t end up hitting you with one of his wild limbs, and the other teachers begin cooing over how cute the new couple is, and now you’re embarrassed for a completely different reason.

As the last chords play out, you take the small gap of silence before the next song to say, “We really should go, Taehyung.”

He nods in agreements, and you sigh in relief, seeing the end of the night finally in sight. With Taehyung making his rounds through the group, saying goodbye and shaking hands, you finally feel your body relax.

At the door, you hold out his blazer to him again, but he shakes his head. “It’s cold outside, keep it.”

And with that, you open the doors to the frozen December air and step out, waving final goodbyes as the door swings shut on the noise of the restaurant. With your breath billowing in clouds, Taehyung offers you his arm to help you walk back to the school again, where your car waits with heated seats and a short drive back home.

“Thank you for this evening,” Taehyung says, as you walk down the street, now quiet with everyone either busy partying, or wrapped up at home. Each step is becoming more painful for you, so unused to your high heels.

“It’s no problem,” you say, forcing yourself to smile, even as your face fights to wince instead.

“I really appreciate it,” Taehyung goes on, “I’m not good with words, but… I guess, if you were one of my students I’d give you one hundred gold star stickers. You did an amazing job being my fiancé.”

You can’t help but chuckle at his explanation, but then end up wincing again, and stop in your tracks.

“Hey, is it okay if I take off my shoes? These heels are killing me.”

“In this cold?” Taehyung asks, while you bend down to undo the buckles, and step out of the prison of straps. Even on the frozen concrete, feeling your soles flat again is deliciously soothing.

“It’s okay,” you say, wiggling your toes in your tights, “It’s not too cold.” You say this with another clouded breath misting from your mouth to completely debunk your argument.

Before you can say anything else, Taehyung kneels down in front of you, offering his back. “Get on, I’ll carry you the rest of the way.”

“I’m fine Taehyung,” you say, picking up your high heels and stepping around him, “My car’s only a street away.”

“Exactly, it’s only a street away and I can carry you no problem.” Without any more warning than that, you feel his arms wrapping around his waist and the world tips upside down as he heaves you into a fireman’s hold.

“Taehyung!” you hit at his back, trying to argue through your laughter, “Put me down. I can walk.”

“Sorry,” he hums, “But if you won’t accept a piggyback from me, then this is the only way I’m letting you travel back to your car.”

“Okay fine!” you admit defeat, “I’ll take a piggyback! But not this. Please.”

Satisfied, he sets you down again, and you skirt around to clamber onto his back, arms locking around his shoulders. With a gentle “hup” he lifts you up, hands firm on your legs, as he holds you up and continues walking towards the school.

You go on in silence for a short distance, only hearing your heartbeat thundering in your head, and Taehyung’s gentle breath as he walks.

At last, he cracks the quiet, asking, “What did Inna want with you?”

“Oh…” you’re taken aback by his question, but continue, “She wanted to apologise for her behaviour… said something about wanting to be more mature… but I don’t think she really meant it.”

Taehyung laughs at this. “Good. I was worried she might say something nasty. I was going to go down and get you myself, but the other teachers kept holding me back, and… well, you handled it yourself anyways, so I guess you didn’t need a knight on shining armour after all.”

You rest your chin against his shoulder. “You never did explain why you broke up.”

Taehyung is silent for a moment, and you wonder if he doesn’t want to tell you, but then he says, “We both had very different ideas about what we wanted from a relationship, I think. She always thought I was too childish, and that I wasn’t responsible enough… I guess I kind of was… I was scared of ever committing to her. You know, we’d been dating for quite a long time, but I never mentioned marriage or anything. She didn’t even move in with me. That was bad sign for her… she kept getting angry, wanting to move her stuff over to my place, and saying I mustn’t love her enough if I didn’t want to live with her. But there was… something holding me back… I don’t know how to explain it… but… it was intrusion? Intru… no! Intuition. It was intuition.” He laughs at himself. “Sorry, I get so used to speaking simply with the children that I forget how to use long words with adults sometimes.”

You smile, “It’s okay. I’ve only spent my free time with Mia for as long as I can remember. I don’t really know how to relate to adults either.”

“At least we know how to talk with each other then…” Taehyung chuckles, with a cloud of mist escaping his throat, “Anyway… Inna didn’t really understand me, and I guess I never understood her either, so we ended up breaking up. She blamed my immaturity for the whole thing.”

“But that wasn’t immature!” you feel anger bubbling up, “In fact, from the sounds of it, you behaved very maturely in that situation. If you can’t relate to each other, then the relationship can’t possibly last. It was good to end it as soon as you could.”

He nods his head, “I thought so too… but I am sorry that it ended so badly...”

“No, don’t be,” you adjust your grip around her shoulder, holding him a little more tightly, partly to keep yourself from slipping off his back, and partly to offer him some comfort under your touch.

As he turns the corner, and the school appears ahead of you, you feel a tug of remorse that the night is over, that you’ll have to leave Taehyung’s hold and return to being single. It was nice to remember what it was like to have someone to hold hands with, someone to be with, and the whole evening had almost convinced you to fall in love again, to allow yourself the leeway to care for someone else besides your daughter. It’s difficult to remember that Taehyung isn’t anything more than a self-proclaimed partner in crime, and that the ring around your finger is nothing more than a prop.

As Taehyung walks you up the school drive, he says, “Well… I’ve told you what happened to me and Inna… would it be too rude to ask what happened to Mia’s father?”

You fall silent as he reaches the edge of the car park, slipping off his back and onto the cold pavement.

He turns back with wide, worried eyes. “Sorry. I overstepped a line, didn’t I? I’ve had a bit of alcohol and… my tongue gets a little more lose when I do. Sorry. I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay,” you sooth with a gentle smile as you dig for your keys from your purse and head for your car, “It was a long time ago, so it’s not that painful anymore.” By your car, you stop, hand on the door. “He died a couple of months after Mia’s birth.”

“Oh.” Taehyung’s face falls at this, and he licks his lips, unsure how to respond.

“Like I said,” you continue, “It was a long time ago. And even though I do miss him… I’m not sad about it anymore. He gave me Mia, and she’s the best part of my life.”

Even though you should be leaving, it feels wrong to part like this, so rather than standing in the frost you say, “Would you like to get into the car for a bit? Just to get out of the cold?”

He nods, and so you end up with him sitting in the passenger seat, body twisted towards you as you continue talking about your husband, reliving old memories with a wistful smile twinging your lips.

“That must be hard for Mia,” Taehyung says eventually, and you nod sadly.

“Yeah, she doesn’t remember him well, but she’s recently started noticing the absence. You know, just the other day, she said she wished she had a dad to come and watch her in the play.” The thought makes the smile wobble off your face, replace by pain, as you remember her innocent questions.

“I’ll come to see her in the play,” Taehyung offers, and then his cheeks flush and he begins rambling, “Well… I mean… ah, maybe this is the alcohol still in my system, and I’m definitely overstepping a line here… but Mia’s a good kid… and…” His hands go up to run over his face, pushing at his closed eyelids. “Ahhhh… what am I saying?”

“Taehyung,” you say gently, and he peeks at you past his fingers, “Mia would be delighted if I told her you’ll watch her in the play.”

He drops his hands and offers a cautious smile.

The conversation seems finished, but still you don’t want Taehyung to leave, and he makes no movement to do so. Absently, you fiddle with your hands, and feel the cold of the ring still on your finger.

“Oh, right…” You pull it off carefully, and hold it out to Taehyung, “I believe this is yours.”

He puts out his hand, and as you press the ring into his fingers his warmth seeps below your skin.

“Oh, and the blazer as well,” you murmur, the stillness in the car seeming to call for a lower voice. You slip off Taehyung’s blazer, catching one last breath of his cologne, as he leans closer and you throw it around his shoulders for him.

Even though it’s time to part, you can’t let go of the collar of the blazer, holding him close. You feel that if you let him go, the whole night will slip from your fingers, like the mist of a dream. Forgetting what it’s like to be held, to be felt, to be connected, what it’s like to be in love, you’ll return to a single-minded focus on Mia, living in love, only for her, with no time to love a man and no time to love yourself.

In the subdued moonlight Taehyung looks all the more ethereal, eyes dark and glossy, lips shining wet as he licks them, and you allow yourself one act of self-love, allow yourself one split second of happiness, just to satiate your own curiosity for what might have been. In the hold of the night’s murmurings, you lean in, just as Taehyung does, and close your lips to his own, locking against him. Your eyes shut instinctively, and all that’s left is his warmth on you, warmth around you, as his hands pull you an extra bit closer, trying to manoeuvre you awkwardly, so he can get as close as possible with the gear box in the way. Your arms snake up around his neck, fingers tangling into his hair, and you melt away on this moment.

It’s all heat, all Taehyung, all you, all you’ve been wanting all evening.

At last, he slips out of your hold again, and you sit, short of breath, with him leaning, watching you from the other side of the car with a dopey smile on his lips.

“I should probably go now,” you remember, knowing it’s far too late, and Mia definitely needs to be in bed.

“Yeah,” he breathes. It takes him another second of staring at you, in awe, before he moves, opening the car door again, letting cold air to rush in and knock sense into both of you, drunk on each other’s touch.

“I’ll see you at the school play,” he says, and then jumps out, and with a wave and a boxy grin, he closed the door behind him, and heads across the car park, towards his own house.

You sit for a few seconds, holding your burning cheeks in your hands and trying to steady your heartbeat, knowing driving like this would be dangerous. You give yourself time to clear your head, before finally starting the engine.

♡♡♡

Mia’s still up when you arrive home, sitting in her pyjamas watching TV with the babysitter. The babysitter looks sheepish when you arrive. “I did try to get her to go to bed,” she explains, but you just hand her the rest of her money, and tell her it’s fine.

Your daughter spins around, and you can sense she’s hyper off sugar that the babysitter probably shouldn’t have fed her. “How was the date? How was the date?”

“Mouse... I told you...” you say, “It wasn’t a date!”

But even as you say this, memories rush back of all that happened this evening, and you realise there’s absolutely no fooling anyone. It was a date.

“You’re blushing! It was totally a date!”

You smile. “Alright, Mouse, maybe it was…”

As you shepherd her up the stairs you feel a vibration in your pocket, as your phone goes off. Reminding Mia to brush her teeth before she goes to bed, you watch her slump to the bathroom, complaining that she’s not ready to sleep. It takes a lot of coaxing, but you finally get her into her room with the lights switched off, and allow yourself to collapse into your own bed, still with a full face of make-up and your dress hugging your body.

You check your phone, and smile to see a message from Taehyung:

“Thanks for tonight. It was great. You did great. You were great…. Am I rambling? Haha! I’ll see you later anyways. Xoxo”

You smile involuntarily, roll over in bed, curling up in the duvet. You type your reply, “I’ll look forward to it xoxo”. This time the ‘x’s and ‘o’s are completely on purpose.

♡ END ♡

Author’s note: I’m sorry this is late! It wasn’t meant to be so long, but my brain got carried away, and it ended up taking longer than expected to write! I hope the wait was worth it!

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