#+ many of the romance options are much older than the girl (like pretty sure some are like in their 20s when shes like 14 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

raibebe · 3 years

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Simple Lessons

Genre: fluff Words: 3.200 Prompt: 90s grunge boy Jeno x female reader

Warnings: smoking, mentions of food

A/N: Literally no one asked for this but this just poured out of me the other day... EVERLONG JENO IS MY COMFORT CHARACTER OKAY??

Everlong masterlist

“Do you want to go out to grab lunch? You don’t have classes until later as well, right?” Your best friend asked as she dragged you out of the lecture hall. “Sure,” you smiled, basking in the rays of the sun for a while after being stuck inside an auditorium with barely any daylight for two hours straight. “There is this cute new diner a little off-campus and a little birdie told me there is this super hot guy working there,” she wiggled her eyebrows to which you could just groan loudly, making her giggle in return. Mimi had talked you up during orientation days and you two hadn’t seperated since. Sharing majors surely helped with that and soon you had found a small group of girls to call your friends. While she was very much the flirty, extrovert in your group, a crush on a different boy each day of the week, you couldn’t not be fond of her shenanigans when it made all of you laugh out loud whenever she told stories of yet another drastically failed date. “Not everyone can still be with their Highschool boyfriend like you,” she accused, slapping your arm before tugging you in the direction of the diner. “Are we really going to this diner just because someone told you that one of the waiters is hot?” “Listen. This was a very trustworthy source,” Mimi pouted, “I’ll pay for your meal, just come with me please.” “How can I say no to free food?” You laughed loudly, letting her pull you along while complaining about all the assignments your professors had given out.

You had to admit that the diner was really cute. It had this old-school look inside with the red, big sofas and a variety of license plates decorated the walls and the female servers even wore cute puffy skirts. “This is so pretty,” you said once Mimi had chosen a booth, the leather of the sofa squeaking while you sat down. “Yeah, yeah,” she waved it off, looking around the place, “Now where is this hot waiter?” “You’re hopeless,” you giggled, picking up the menu that was already laid out on the table to look at their food options instead of helping your friend. “Shut up,” she grumbled, copying your action, “You also still haven’t introduced us to your boyfriend.”

“Yeah,” you sighed, “He’s...” Well, what were you supposed to say now? If it were to go how you had wanted, your friends would have already met Jeno at the first party you were invited to but he had declined the offer, only sweetly kissing your head and promising to pick you up at 2 am from the adress you had given him. Which he had done but by that time everyone was so wasted that they couldn’t remember a thing. Which had become a reoccurring theme, no matter how much you’d bribe them to not drink to finally catch a glympse at him. “If you all would stop drinking yourself into a coma every time we go out, you’d have met him already.” “I am beginning to think you’ve made him up,” Mimi grinned, “He seems way too perfect. Letting you go out and party on your own and picking your drunk ass up after but then he never shows up to your classes to walk you to the next one.” Well just maybe you hadn’t gotten around to telling your friends that Jeno in fact wasn’t even studying but working different part-time jobs to help finance your apartment until he had figured out what he wanted to do in the first place. They had just assumed he was studying something way different than you hence why you wouldn’t meet up during your breaks. “Well he is real,” you sighed, “He’s just... Different?” “Oooooh, I get it,” your friend grinned, “He’s older than you. Oh my god. Do you have a sugar daddy?” At that you let out an embarrassed screech which made her double over with laughter. “Why would you say that?” You whined, “He’s the same age as us, for real.”

“Hi ladies, I see you’re already having a great time. I’ll be your waiter for today, have you already decided what to get?” A deep velvety voice interrupted. You didn’t need to look up to know who the waiter was or what he looked like because his voice was almost as familar to your ears as your own was and you knew his body inside and out. Smiling brightly, your eyes met Jeno’s who was also smiling, throwing you a little wink. You had known that he had been working in a diner for a little while now but not this specific one so it was a nice surprise to see him here clad in a neat button-down and pants that for once weren’t ripped to shreds. Meanwhile, Mimi was stunned in silence, her mouth parted in what must be awe. “Hi,” you kept smiling at Jeno, “Anything you can recommend?” “Our burgers are pretty good,” he shrugged, “But what’s really good are our milkshakes.” “Then we’ll take that, right?” You asked your friend, kicking her shin beneath the table to get her to snap out of it. “Y-yeah sure,” she stuttered, still blatantly gawking at Jeno. “Great, I’ll be right back with your drinks,” Jeno smiled before walking off again.

“Girl he’s so hot oh my god,” Mimi exclaimed as soon as he was out of earshot, dramatically flopping down onto the table. “He’s really good-looking,” you admitted, a big grin on your face. “Better than your boyfriend?” “I wouldn’t say that,” you laughed, awkwardly shuffling in your seat. Was this the right time to tell her that the waiter apparently a lot of girls were thirsting after was in fact your boyfriend and probably not at all like they thought him out to be? “God, I bet he looks so good out of his uniform as well,” she groaned, “Just the thought of him in light washed denim.” At that, you had to mask a burst of laughter with an awkward cough. You had tried times and times again to convince Jeno to swap out one of his dark jeans for light-washed ones but he wasn’t budging, only in turn challenging you to wear one of his many black baggy T-shirts instead of your brightly colored spaghetti tops. “Sure,” you giggled instead, kicking your friend’s shin again to alert her when Jeno came back with your drinks. “There you go, food will be out in a bit,” he smiled politely. Not the kind of smile that turned his eyes into beautiful crescents but a more reserved one.

“Hey, uhm,” Mimi suddenly spoke up when Jeno turned around to walk away again, making him halt in his steps. “Have you been working here for long?” Oh god. You had to physically keep yourself from cringing at her awkward try to rope him into a conversation. “Just a handful of weeks, so not that long,” Jeno shrugged, “Looking for a job as well?” “Oh no, we both work part-time at a clothing store downtown,” she waved it off, “I was just wondering because I had never seen you around before.” “Well yeah, makes sense I haven’t been here for long.” “So you recently moved here? I’m sure I would have remembered a handsome face like yours,” Mimi now blatantly flirted, twirling a dyed strand of hair around her finger and just slightly leaning forward on the table to give Jeno a better view of her cleavage in her white cropped top. “Yeah, I’m not from around here,” he shared, his eyes firmly staying on her face but the redness of his ears and how his fingers were fiddling with his little notepad betrayed his cool facade. Was this the time where you should end this to save Mimi and Jeno from further embarrassment? Or should you enjoy this for a little longer? “Are you also a student?” She asked next, “We both go to university here.” “Oh god no,” Jeno exclaimed and this time you couldn’t hold in the little giggle that slipped past your lips, noticing that your boyfriend’s lips twitched into a little grin as well. The more Jeno saw you struggle between classes, essays and study sessions, the more sure he had become about his whole decision to not do the whole university thing. Just when your friend wanted to ask the next question, a loud voice interrupted: “Jeno, I am not paying you for flirting with customers! Get back to work!” Rolling his eyes at his boss, Jeno shot the two of you an apologetic look before quickly walking to the register where his boss was waiting.

“God, even his name sounds good,” Mimi groaned, returning to her former position, sprawled out over the table. “You sound like you’re in love with him,” you giggled, “You don’t even know him.” “Listen. This is love at first sight. Do you not watch romance movies?” You did in fact. Even though Jeno would complain throughout the whole first 30 minutes of the movie until he’d either accept his fate in favor of cuddling and letting you pet his hair or actually get invested in the movie as well, cursing the characters for being so stupid and not talking out their problems. “I do, dummy,” you rolled your eyes, taking a sip from your milkshake that didn’t disappoint after Jeno had praised it so much, “But don’t you need to get to know a person before you can love them?”

“You’re the one with a boyfriend,” she mumbled, collecting herself from the table to take a sip of her drink as well, “Tell me about him.” “My boyfriend?” “Yeah, you never speak much about him and don’t let us meet him either. Convince me he’s not made up.” “Well we know each other since childhood,” you shared, feeling heat creep up your cheeks and neck, knowing how cliche your story sounded, “He lived in the house next to ours so we played a lot as children but then my family had to move away when I was in like elementary school or something because of my dad’s work but eventually we moved back for my last year of highschool.” “Oh wow, that must have sucked to leave all your friends behind twice.” Sighing, you ran your hands through your hair. “It wasn’t easy to just leave everything behind, but I managed. We moved back into our old house and he was also still living in the house next to us with his family. His mom made him take me to school every day and we shared a lot of classes and then it just went from there,” you smiled, blatantly leaving out the part where you had to basically force Jeno to speak and open up to you at nights on his rooftop beneath the moon and the stars. That was a private matter you didn’t want to share without his consent.

“That is so wholesome,” Mimi cheered, “What’s he like?” “Different?” You tried to explain, swirling your straw in your milkshake, “Like different than you’d expect him to be. When you see us together, you’d probably say we don’t match.” “Ooooh,” she nodded, her eyes wide, “So you’re like opposites?” “You could say that,” you smiled, “But when you get to know us, we’re not that different.” Before she could ask more questions, Jeno interrupted you again, hands full of your plates. “And that’s your food girls. Please enjoy,” he smiled, placing the plates down, “If you need anything else, I’ll be around.” “Actually,” Mimi began and you had to hold yourself back from interrupting her, “I was wondering when your shift is ending.” “My shift?” Jeno repeated, his eyes shortly drifting over to you. “Yeah,” she smiled, waiting for his answer. “I’m off in a bit,” he said slowly after checking the time on the neon clock hanging over the counter. “So you’re free after we’re done with our food?” She pressed on. “Probably?” “Would you like to hang out after? We still have some time until our next classes start. “Hang out. With you two,” he repeated, still dumbstruck by her boldness. “I mean you don’t have to if you really don’t want or have something to do,” she shrugged but you knew that look in her eyes. She was determined to have him hang out with you. “I was just going to go get groceries and go home,” Jeno shared, “Listen, I gotta go back to work or my boss will literally fire me because he already hates me.” With an apologetic smile, he quickly walked down to another table where a couple was seemingly done with their meal.

“You’re so shameless,” you accused your friend, finally digging into your meal. “Listen. I see a hot boy and need to talk to him, it’s as easy as that,” Mimi giggled, taking a bite from her burger. “Now tell me more about that boyfriend of yours.”

Once you were finished with your meal, Jeno already wasn’t there anymore to take your bill, instead, a cute girl with a big puffy skirt handed your friend the bill. “But half the stuff is missing,” Mimi asked, “I’m paying for both of us.” “Oh, my colleague took care of one of the meals,” the waiter smiled, “He must like one of you.” “I told you my flirting was worth it,” your friend smiled, handing over the money. You really didn’t have it in you to tell her that Jeno most likely covered for your half of the meal when she seemed so genuinely happy about it, so you swallowed the words back down even if it was going to come out sooner or later when you’d finally get Jeno to meet your friends.

Apparently, the universe wanted it to be sooner because as soon as you stepped back out of the diner and into the sun, a boy clad in all black caught your attention. He was leaning against the little railing around the diner, a cigarette between his lean fingers. “Hey,” you nudged your friend, nodding towards Jeno. “Huh?” “It’s the waiter,” you explained, looking over at him. By now it looked like he was trying his hardest to hold back his grin while taking another drag. Shocking people with his looks still was one of his favorite things to do if they only knew him from one of his jobs where he had to wear a uniform. “No way,” Mimi whispered, “He looks like a completely different guy.” “You’re not in love anymore now?” “He’s just so…” “Different?” You helped her out, rolling your eyes. Why could no one see past the dark clothes, chains and the cigarette and made the effort to actually get to know Jeno? “I don’t think he’s my type.” “You’re ridiculous,” you snorted, leaving her behind to walk over to Jeno.

“Hey bubblegum,” he smiled, curling an arm around your waist like it was second nature already, “Fancy seeing you here.” “You didn’t tell me that was the diner you applied to,” you pouted, scrunching your nose at the smell of smoke. “I didn’t know it was close to your campus,” he shrugged it off and stubbed out the remainder of his cigarette after taking a last drag, making an effort to blow the smoke away from you, “Your friend tried really hard to flirt with me.” “She’s an idiot,” you rolled your eyes, looping your arms around his torso to hug him close, “I missed you.” “I made you breakfast literally this morning,” he laughed but pulled you closer to him anyways. “If you work this close you could have come to visit.” “Bubblegum…” Jeno sighed, tucking a wild strand of hair back into place. “My friends think I’ve made up my boyfriend,” you pouted. “You want to show your friend back there how real I am? I think her eyes are already very close to falling out of her head.” “What’s going on in that head of yours Jeno Lee?” “Let me show you,” he grinned, cupping your face with one of his hands before pressing his lips to yours in a languid kiss, the taste of smoke on his breath familiar by now. “You really need to quit,” you grumbled against his lips. “I know,” he sighed but kissed you again anyways, “Wasn’t expecting to see you this soon.” “So you smoke in secret?” “Stop arguing when I’m trying to kiss you,” he grumbled, playfully biting your bottom lip. “Stop kissing me when I’m trying to safe your lungs,” you pouted, slapping his chest for emphasis but didn’t protest and insted kissed you again, languid and deep.

“Are you two done making out now?” Mimi suddenly interrupted you, making your face heat up as you took a step back from Jeno who was having nothing of that and pulled you back against his side by your waist. “Yeah, all done,” he grinned, holding one of his hands out for your friend to shake, “I’m Jeno.” “I figured from your boss screaming at you,” she mumbled but shook his hand anyways, giving him her name as well, “You made me look like a fool. Like you could have told me you were the infamous boyfriend refusing to meet us.” “It’s not like I was refusing.” “You totally were,” you butted in, pinching his side. “Listen it doesn’t sound as appealing to spend my evenings with a group of all girls as you think it does,” he defended himself, “And now you have a witness that I am in fact real.” “You’re not getting out of his now, Jeno Lee,” you grinned, lacing your fingers together. “And if I told you I had this really important thing to do?” He tried, throwing you his best puppy eyes. “We can go grocery shopping after my last class,” you rolled your eyes, “You’re walking back to campus with us now.” “Yes, ma’am,” he rolled his eyes, “Let me carry your bag.” “Oh god, you’ll make me feel so single,” Mimi groaned when you handed Jeno your backpack to carry. “You wanted this, I can leave any time,” your boyfriend shrugged, “Do you have like stones in your bag or something?” “It’s called books, you should try it,” you said, playfully sticking out your tongue. “Why am I even dating you?” Jeno just rolled his eyes. “Because you love me,” you smiled brightly. “Yeah, I kinda do,” he confessed, squeezing your hand.

“No need to make me feel even more single,” Mimi groaned again, “Do you have any hot friends to introduce me to, Jeno?” “I don’t think they’re your style,” he shrugged it off, motioning at his attire of ripped black jeans and dark shirt. “So you do have some hot friends that are also single?” “You almost fainted when you saw me, I don’t think you could handle them.” “Don’t judge a book by its cover, babe,” you smiled, leaning into his body. “Sure, bubblegum,” he gently smiled back.

Because if you had judged him by his cover, you’d never be as happy as you were right now.

#jeno #lee jeno #nct #nct dream #kafenetwork #jeno fluff #nct fluff #nct dream fluff #jeno scenarios #jeno imagines #jeno fic #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct dream imagines #nct dream scenarios #nct dream fic

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multimetaverse · 3 years

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HSMTMTS 2x09 Review

Spring Break was a bit of an odd ep but helped move some key plots forward. Let’s dig in!

Well people can no longer claim that Portwell is one sided. We finally got Gina’s pov and she starts off the ep uncertain whether the shift in their relationship means that EJ likes her but by the end of the ep she seems sure of herself and that EJ likes her back. I liked that she didn’t try to pretend that nothing had changed or that she hadn’t noticed potential signs that EJ might like her; it always sucks when tv characters act like idiots.

Perhaps the most important reveal of this ep was that Gina has a much older estranged brother who left her and her mom many years ago. That certainly makes her backstory more tragic and is definite set up for her brother to eventually return.

The writers continue to give Portwell great tropes, capping this ep off with an airport rom-com trope that also calls back to EJ getting Gina the place ticket so she could come back in S1. Not only did Gina keep EJ’s Duke sweatshirt but she altered it to fit her better which is both sweet and bold in the assumption that it was hers to keep. Gina got her sign when not only did EJ show up to drive Gina home and take her luggage but he brought her the granola bar that she had wanted but forgot to pack. I wonder if her posting on her story that she was ubering home after her flight was cancelled was intended to see if EJ would show up since the camera focused on her posting it. Also sweet that she’s taken to calling EJ, ‘ Eej’.

EJ’s opening was good, shows a lot of his character growth from the selfish guy he was in S1 and how he’s learned to value other people which of course leads into his feelings for Gina. We got another great use of the camera as character tonight when Gina was laughing after her facetime call with EJ until she realized that the camera was on her.

Jack was a lot of fun. Though he didn’t really change Gina’s mind over anything like the ep description said he would. Seemed like Gina was largely over Ricky and wondering about EJ at the beginning and the end solidified her feelings for EJ but Jack didn’t really play a role in that, it’s not like he encouraged Gina to reach out to EJ or anything. There’s a vague sense in which Jack being nomadic linked him to Ricky’s unreliability in Gina’s eyes with her craving stability but that’s a stretch. Jack mentioned that the second most dangerous part of a plane ride is when the plane takes off, a hint to the blossoming Portwell relationship where in order to take off one or both of them has to risk a confession even though they could be turned down.

This ep might seem a bit weird in hindsight. The zoom parts probably won’t age well and five years from now people might be wondering why they had Gina hang out with a manic pixie dream boy of sorts for an ep.

The path is clear for canon Portwell in the finale with EJ being Gina’s second chance at romance and her first kiss since they clearly telegraphed it out of nowhere. I’ve been impressed with the great work the writers have been doing since 2x05 to build up Portwell as a ship but also work on Gina and EJ as individual characters; they’ve been the highlight of the season so far.

There was discourse this past week over how well or poorly Portwell has been set up. Objectively very few ships on this show get much in the way of set up or consistent writing. Redlyn and Kowie had barely any set up before getting together. Seblos had none (though in fairness that was due to Disney restrictions) and Miss Jenn and Mike Bowen didn’t have much set up either. Rini did get lots of development in S1 but that’s because they had already dated and were the main ship of the show. The show’s not really about slow burns, if Jenzzara canons in the finale they’ll count and if Rina ever got together they’d also count but neither of those ships have gotten consistent development with Mazzara not being in several eps and Gina and Ricky not even interacting for the past 3 eps.

Is Portwell a slowburn? In a sense since they did feature quite a bit in each other’s S1 plot lines and even had a fake dating plot but it is true that they were platonic and not that close in S1 so it’s a wash. There was clear set up for romantic Portwell in 1x10 with team wonderstudies and Gina staring at EJ (which interestingly enough looked more like set up for Gina to pine over EJ). I think the main problem is that even though we saw Gina and EJ hanging out in the background we didn’t get any scenes of substance between them until 2x05. It was a mistake and there should have been some scene, like EJ and Gina commiserating in 2x03 over being single on Valentine’s Day or something like that. Hell there was even that still from 2x01 of EJ and Gina looking at each other at the piano while they were in the frame between Ricky and Nini singing and having a moment which would have been good foreshadowing but that shot wasn’t in the ep.

Whether Tim just really wanted Portwell to be a surprise in 2x05 as a mid-season twist to throw the audience off of what looked like a Rini/Rina triangle or he was unsure as to whether he wanted to go with Portwell or if he just planned it out poorly we may never know. Regardless they’ve had great writing for 4 eps in a row now which puts them slightly ahead of the 3 eps in a row of development Rina got in S1. I’m sure if someone added up their screen time they’d find that Portwell has more screen time this season than Kowie and more screen time than Redlyn or Seblos got in S1.

Caswell cousins was fun and Ashlyn did in fact paint EJ’s nails.

Set up for Seblos drama next week, it’s refreshing to see Seb being jealous over Carlos flirting with other boys that’s definitely not something you see on Disney shows.

Ricky got some healing done with his mom. Enough to cover their issues? No but this is probably the best this show is capable of. There was a brief mention of therapy sandwiched between other options which sounds more like checking off a box then setting up Ricky actually going to therapy. I noticed Lynne was smiling at odd times like when she told Ricky she knew about his breakup with Nini; whether that was poor directing or acting I don’t know. Who knows if we’ll see Lynne again. As an aside still so wild that Tim named Lynne who’s been a kinda shitty mom after his own mom who he seems to be fairly close with.

Really liked You ain’t seen nothin as a song but not a fan of the Tiktok style vid. I’ll level with you wildcats, I’m too old to really get Tiktok, it just seems like a crappy version of Vine to me. Let you go was good, seemed better fitted for Joshua Bassett’s voice than some of his previous songs. A big sign that they’re not circling back to Rini for a long time for sure. Though on that note we got a bit of a hint that Ricky was Nini’s muse which may one day come back as a way to help bring them back together.

Looking Ahead:

If there’s only 3 weeks left till the Menkies, with only 2 weeks left for rehearsal due to spring break, it’s hard to see East High winning unless North High is disqualified or has to withdraw.

Lily is in a promo photo so she’s likely the unexpected facetime Ricky gets which is what I had theorized. Also makes it much more likely that she’s the party crasher Ricky re-evaluates in the finale though what Tim actually wants to do with those two I do not know.

There’s little point in bringing back the Valentine’s chocolate since there’s no real stakes. Rini are already broken up, Gina hasn’t spoken to Ricky since 2x06, and it’s not like Nini and Gina were ever close so even if they stopped talking to each other it wouldn’t really affect the show in any way.

Seems pretty likely that Second Chances refers to Gina realizing that her first try with Ricky failed but her second chance with EJ won’t and that leads to her sharing her truth and cue the Portwell confession and kiss, perhaps with an assist on EJ’s end from Mazzara. We’ve gone well past the point where Portwell can be brushed off as just a plot device to help Rina but Tim is playing with fire by getting the audience so on board with Portwell if he’s once again going to have EJ lose a girl he likes to Ricky in S3.

Gina certainly needs to talk with Ricky and I do think that happens in ep 11 or 12 and leaves them on better terms. As I mentioned last week, if Tim was smart he’d slam the door on Rina if he’s going with canon Portwell or vice versa. If he wants Rina to be a slow burn he’s really botched the writing this season, it’s been too one sided and too angsty to sustain any kind of momentum or audience interest. They haven’t even interacted for 3 eps now and not only has it not affected the show but it’s inarguably made Gina’s story line much better. Again I don’t think he’s smart enough to not try and do Portwell and then later Rina but he’s accidentally set up the Rina story line to quite easily slam the door permanently on them by having their conversation be closure for Gina who’s moved on and an apology from Ricky who never liked her back as much as Gina liked him.

Not looking forward to seeing Nini basically live out Olivia Rodrigo’s life in future seasons

Curious to see Carlos’ apology song to Seb. Ricky helping him with it is a great way to help start redeeming Ricky’s character in the audiences eye’s. According to Matt there is a bit of a Ricky/EJ rivalry this season and if it’s really happening the sleepover would be a good place to do it though I hope it’s not about Gina.

Until next week wildcats.

#HSMTMTS #Portwell #Gina Porter #EJ Caswell #Ricky Bowen #Nini Salazar-Roberts #Seblos #seb matthew-smith #HSMTMTS Reviews

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tumbleweed-palmer · 3 years

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It Was Inevitable: Jimmy Palmer X Reader

Jimmy Palmer falls into a sugar daddy relationship with Y/N, but what happens when he falls in love with her? This can only end in heartbreak. It's inevitable.

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Jimmy Palmer never would have thought he would wind up in a situation like this. He knows that sounds like such a cliché. It’s true though, he never thought he would wind up doing anything like this and it’s a mess. It is the definition of a mess.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He doesn’t know how things got so complicated so fast.

It all began with a case and a little comment from Tony.

The case involved a dead sailor and the revelation that said dead sailor was taking part in a sugar daddy type of “relationship” with a young woman. There was some suspicion that she might have been the one responsible for his death…and in a way she was…no she didn’t shoot the man herself, but another one of her clients did out of jealousy.

Tony had made some offhand remark about how these types of “relationships” always ended in a disaster.

Of course this had quickly prompted teasing from Ziva and McGee about just how Tony knew so much about these types of relationships…which had in turn resulted in Tony admitting he’d maybe looked at a website designed for the purpose of those types of relationships.

Or as Tony had put it. “It was research for a case I was consulting on. I chatted with a girl for strictly professional purposes…she was a nice girl, very hot, a total ten, but ya know…I don’t get the appeal of being treated like a human ATM. That kind of relationship just seems destined to fail.”

Jimmy couldn’t help but to hang on to the entire concept of a sugar baby.

Jimmy Palmer had always been terribly curious. It was a positive attribute to have, Dr. Mallard had always insisted. The first step to any type of learning was curiosity.

Then again didn’t curiosity kill the cat?

As hard as Jimmy tried to forget about the entire case his brain had clung onto the details. He had so many questions about sugar babies. How exactly did that type of relationship work? Did it feel degrading for either party? Did it involve sex or was it just about having companionship in other ways? What types of things did the sugar baby expect? What kind of guy was into a relationship like this? Was it like a business transaction or a friendship? And most importantly what type of girl was interested in this type of relationship?

Jimmy had found a website faster than he would ever admit. It was just to satisfy his curiosity he’d told himself.

Wasn’t Dr. Mallard always yammering on about the importance of understanding how people’s minds worked in their line of work? You had to understand how the human mind worked to understand how people could do something like shove an ice pick through someone’s heart or shoot a man in an alleyway. Perhaps having an understanding of how these types of relationships worked would make Jimmy a better medical examiner.

This was an educational endeavor Jimmy had told himself. He could make a quick profile, take a look around, and then his curiosity would be satisfied and he’d never have to think about this ever again.

For the most part the girls on the website had been kind of what Jimmy had been picturing. They were beautiful of course. However, it was obvious that a few of them weren’t even real people. Their photos and their profiles seemed a little too good to be real. They were most likely scam artists who’d stolen some photos of attractive women hoping to make a quick buck off some naive guy with a large bank account.

He’d been almost ready to give up and call his little educational experience a total bust when he’d spotted her profile.

It was her username that had caught his attention: Belle Mort.

Jimmy had taken a semester abroad his junior year in France. He still understood the french language just enough to translate her username: Beautiful Death.

The little sense of familiarity and the mention of a subject that his career revolved around had been enough to spark his interest and before he could stop himself he’d clicked on her profile.

She was different from the other girls on the site.

She was a few years younger than him; still in her twenties. She was a college student working on her masters. She’d mentioned her university fees were expensive and she was looking for companionship and a way to ease the financial strain. So, why not try an option that could offer her both monetary gain and companionship. She listed films and music she enjoyed a few of which Jimmy recognized. She seemed to enjoy art and overly sweet iced coffee. There were photos of her at museums and coffee shops. She posed in front of sculptures and paintings. She posed with a comically large iced coffee at an outdoor cafe somewhere. She was a beautiful woman. She wasn’t as in your face like the other profiles though. There was almost something elegant about her.

Her profile wasn’t what he’d been expecting.

He’d expected something kind of vulgar to be honest, like something straight out of one of the men’s magazines Tony liked to read at work when he thought Gibbs wasn’t looking.

Most of the other women on the site had been in bikinis and more revealing outfits. The outfit Belle Mort had worn in her main profile photo was sexy, sure, it hugged her body well, but the black sundress had seemed so much less intimidating than the other women’s clothing choices. The other women seemed dressed for a night of clubbing. Belle Mort seemed as though she could fit in at any cafe or farmers market in the DC Virginia area.

Her profile had made her seem less like some sort of sultry seductress and more like the girl next door. There was almost something playful about how she described herself despite the more serious tone of her username.

There was something about her that just seemed so approachable. She looked like the kind of girl Jimmy would spot at a coffee shop or maybe even on campus at Georgetown, but would never have the nerve to actually approach.

That was Jimmy’s big problem it seemed. Jimmy Palmer had never been too terribly great about approaching girls, especially ones who he found pretty. Most of his past flings and romantic encounters had been with women who approached him.

Jimmy wasn’t really the type to make the first move. He’d be the first to admit he was more the type to pine after a pretty girl but never quite work up the nerve to hit on her. He wasn’t the dominant type when it came to romance.

Jimmy had never really had that much confidence when it came to women. He was awkward at the best of times when it came to communication, but when it came to a pretty girl he could be hopeless.

Maybe that was what had driven him to click on the little message button by her profile. It was too easy to send her a quick message knowing that if he was rejected at least it would be over a computer screen and not in person. Being rejected online seemed so much less pathetic than being rejected in person.

The message Jimmy had sent had been so simple. Hi. So, Beautiful Death? Where did the inspiration for that come from? I’m Jimmy by the way.

He hadn’t expected to get a message back that same night and the message he had gotten back had only made him all the more intrigued. Hello. It comes from an essay I wrote recently on death and funeral culture in medieval era France. A little morbid of a subject, I know, but I guess it’s an odd little interest of mine. I’m impressed you caught the translation. <3 Y/N.

Jimmy had read the message over and over and over again. His brain picking it apart. He’d only grown more intrigued the more times he read it. And her name, he read her name a thousand times thinking it sounded so much nicer than Belle Mort.

He’d been unable to stop himself from messaging her back and had been delighted as she’d been open to sending him one in return.

This had gone on for a while, Jimmy working up his confidence to broach the subject.

He’d been unable to stop himself from admitting it to her. I’ve never done anything like this. I don’t know how to do any of this. I don’t know how this works.

A sigh of relief had left him at the response she’d given him. Lucky for you I’m a bit new to this myself. There’s no correct way to go about this. We can figure it out together, that is, if you’re interested?

Jimmy was interested, he was very interested. He knew he’d sounded far too eager when he’d let her know that he was, but luckily for him she didn’t seem to mind.

She’d requested that he send her a photo of himself. He hadn’t gotten around to actually placing a photo of himself on his profile that he’d made when he’d signed up for the site. After all, he hadn’t signed up for the site with the intention of actually messaging anyone at all.

He’d been hesitant to send her a photo, what if this was a scam? Maybe she’d steal the photo and post it somewhere online to shame him? Maybe she was a hacker who’d hack into his contacts and send it and all their messages to his friends and family and anyone in his contact list? Maybe this was all some elaborate scheme to shame him as some kind of pervert? Maybe she was planning on blackmailing him with this?

He’d ignored this fear though doing his best to take a photo of himself where he didn’t think he looked too horrible. He’d used a digital camera loading the photo up onto his laptop and sending the photo before he had time to second guess the choice.

He’d felt his cheeks flush at the response he’d gotten. I have to be honest Jimmy. You’re cuter than I expected. I thought you’d be much older. You’re a handsome guy. Are you sure you need me? I’m sure there would be plenty of girls who’d be happy to get to know you.

She calling him cute had caused a warm feeling to wash over him. She thought he was handsome.

He’d ignored the little voice in the back of his head that told him it was all bullshit; that she was just flattering him to get paid. It was nice to be complimented even if it was fueled by monetary gain.

He’d sent her a fast response. I need you, please.

That had been all it had taken. They’d exchanged numbers and after a few conversations over the phone, the first few pretty awkward to be honest, they’d managed to work out something between them.

It hadn’t been sexual, not at first. At first they’d just spent time together. He’d liked the companionship. He’d taken her to dinner and to art galleries. He’d taken her to museums once he’d realized she was a history major with the focus being on French history.

They spent their time talking. He felt like it was so easy to open up to her about whatever was troubling him. She never seemed to blink twice at the odder more macabre aspects of his job like most people tended to do. She didn’t mind that he could be anxious and she didn’t seem to mind that he had a tendency to be more awkward than he liked to admit. She didn’t even mind his puns or his terrible jokes. She seemed to like him the way he was.

She seemed to enjoy their time together or at least it seemed like she enjoyed it. She was so willing to praise him and compliment him. No one really praised him like she did. She was just there when he needed her. Even though a little voice in the back of his head told him her compliments were empty, he ignored that voice and soaked up her praise like a sponge.

She made it so easy for him to become so dependent on her. He wanted to please her. There was something addictive about seeing her happy and knowing he was the reason behind that happiness.

It felt like a friendship. In a lot of ways Y/N began to feel like Jimmy’s therapist/friend. He opened up to her about his worries and she listened and gave him advice. She was the first person he wanted to call whether he was having a great day or the worst day ever. She was where his mind went to in his quiet moments.

It felt like a friendship.

The little voice in the back of his head of course was always quick to remind him that they weren’t friends though…you didn’t have to pay someone for friendship.

He’d shushed the voice though, it felt too nice to spend time with her. He could pretend that this was something more than what it was he told himself.

Jimmy had the money to keep this up. His grandparents had long ago set up trust funds for his sister and he both. They’d made some smart investments and those investments had paid off.

Jimmy had never really been the materialistic type.

He might occasionally use the money to buy himself a gaming system or maybe a nicer tie. He’d used a little bit of it to put towards student loans. He mostly left the money alone though. Maybe it was the resentment he felt about it. His grandparents were on his father’s side after all, and his father had been such a bastard. So, in a way, using the money too often made him feel sick to his stomach.

Using the money on Y/N though, that didn’t make him feel sick. He told himself he might as well use the money on this. The trust fund was constantly growing with the investments and he might as well take advantage of it doing something that he enjoyed.

He placed money in her bank account when they spent time together. She didn’t charge him by the hour. It was one rate that they’d agreed on for each date. He’d been surprised at how easily she had presented all the fine little details of how this arrangement was going to work. She had given him her terms and had answered any questions he’d had about just what this arrangement would entail. She’d seemed to have it all figured out despite her admission that she was still pretty new to all of this.

It had become almost second nature to him, something he could do without even thinking, he slipped money into her bank account and went on with whatever they’d planned out for a date.

He did other things for her though aside from the payments to her account. He bought her gifts; flowers and perfume and a cashmere scarf he thought she’d like. Then he’d begun buying her jewelry. It was never anything really extravagant. It was mostly antique pieces that he was sure she’d like given her interest in history. She never asked for the gifts, he just liked the reaction he got when he gave them to her.

The gifts were what had led to their arrangement becoming sexual. She’d been the one who initiated it. The gifts were so nice she’d insisted, she wanted to do something nice for him as a thank you.

Jimmy had tried to insist that she didn’t have to of course, he hadn’t given her the gifts expecting anything in return other than the simple act of knowing he was pleasing her. She had insisted she wanted to do this for him though. And Jimmy had found that he was incapable of denying her this. He could admit that he wasn’t the most experienced guy on the planet at least when it came to the amount of women he’d been with. She was a beautiful woman and she seemed to want to please him. He was incapable of saying no to her. He’d let her take the reins on that front deciding to just go with it. How many opportunities like this would fall into his lap after all?

If anything this had made their arrangement feel more like a friends with benefits type of situation.

He could admit that the sexual aspect of this entire arrangement had only made things between them feel all the more complicated though. It was inevitable really, how could he share such an intimate action with someone without it meaning something?

They were playing a dangerous game and the longer it persisted the more Jimmy was beginning to realize his heart was going to be broken in the end.

It was undeniable how he felt about her. It was the only explanation for why she constantly seemed to be on his mind. It was almost pathetic really, he’d fallen in love with someone who he was paying to spend time with him. He’d fallen in love with his Sugar Baby. He was pretty sure that this was a recipe for disaster.

Lately this realization had seemed all the more apparent to Jimmy. Someone was going to get hurt if they kept this up, and he had a feeling it was going to be him. He loved her, but she could never love him. It was all so hopeless.

There didn’t seem to be any way of stopping the arrangement though, not now. He knew he could end it at any moment, but he remained helpless to do so. He was in too deep now. She had become such a fixture in his life. It was almost as though she was a siren calling him to what would certainly be his doom, but he was far too entranced to care. He needed her and he didn’t care if it would only hurt him in the end.

So that was maybe why it was so easy for him to reach for his cell phone the second Dr. Mallard stepped away for his lunch break leaving Jimmy alone in Autopsy. It took him very little time to find her number in his contact list and call it.

He couldn’t stop himself from sounding as eager as he felt as he spoke. “Hey, are you busy?”

“I’m never too busy for you Handsome.” Her response came so naturally and he couldn’t stop the smile that crossed his lips at the sound of her voice and the little pet name she’d bestowed upon him.

He spoke up knowing he still sounded so needy. “Can I see you tonight?”

“Of course, what do you have in mind? I need to know how to dress for the occasion.” She asked.

The answer fell from his lips without hesitation. “Nothing too crazy. I was just thinking a night in with some take out, just…things have been pretty hectic lately. I just- I really need to see you tonight.”

“What time? My last class for the day ends at five.” She remarked Jimmy so fast to answer her.

“I won’t make it out of here until around five thirty if I manage to make it through the rest of the day without any complications. I’ll need time to shower though…so maybe seven would be best.” He admitted knowing he didn’t quite want to meet up with her smelling like the scent of decay and disinfectant that seemed to permeate around Autopsy.

“Sounds workable for me, Handsome. Any special requests for tonight? I know how much you love that black lace set I wore last time.” She replied, making an audible moan leave him as he clearly pictured the lace lingerie set she was recalling and just how much he’d loved the way it had hugged her body.

He spoke the words sliding from him without a second thought. “Whatever you’d like. I just want you to be comfortable.”

The giggle that left her only made his cheeks flush all the more the lust he felt for her only becoming more apparent. “Always such a gentleman. I may have to find something new to wear for you. You sound like you could really use a nice distraction tonight. You sound tense.”

He spoke his voice tight the words sliding from him without him even having to think twice now. “I am…I could use a distraction. I’ll make the deposit in your account. The usual amount.”

“Punctual as always, Handsome. I’ll let you get back to work. Those crimes aren’t going to solve themselves. I’ll see you tonight. I’ll bring the wine. No red, I remember you don’t like the bitter. I’ll bring a Rosé or a Moscato, something sweet.” She replied knowing him well enough by now to know exactly what he preferred.

He felt a deep sigh leave him as he hung up the phone. He was in too deep. There was no escaping this. He wanted her too much to escape this. He didn’t care if he only got to have her because of their arrangement. This was how it had to be if he wanted time with her. Sometimes he just wished things could be different.

………………………………………………………………………

They wound up on his sofa in his apartment with two wine glasses and some empty take out boxes set out on the coffee table in front of them.

She’d greeted him just how she usually did; with a kiss to the cheek. There were never kisses to the lips. The act of pressing her lips to his was just too intimate he’d guessed. She’d kiss him everywhere but his lips. He tried his best to deny how much the refusal to actually kiss him stung. He told himself he didn’t have the right to complain. This wasn’t a real relationship.

She’d followed his request for comfort showing up to his place wearing a more casual blouse with a pair of jeans and a loose fitting cardigan. She still had made an effort for him as she usually did; her makeup looking as flawless as always. She’d traded in heels for a pair of flats and had allowed her hair to hang loosely around her face.

She managed to look stunning even in a more casual look.

She’d made good on her promise to bring wine having chosen to bring a sweet rosé with her chilled and ready for them. The bottle looked expensive and Jimmy had resisted the urge to ask if he was the one who had paid for the bottle, deciding he didn’t want to know the answer. He didn’t like the way it sounded, so accusatory.

She sipped her wine, her eyes cutting over to gaze upon him not helping but to sense his less than cheerful mood. It was so unlike him. If she’d figured out one thing about Jimmy it was that the man seemed to be an endless ray of sunshine and joy. He always seemed so cheerful. It was kind of refreshing honestly, to be around someone who was capable of being so positive.

She had noticed over the course of their last few dates though that something seemed to be troubling him.

She spoke daring to bring it up. “What’s going on in that head of yours Handsome? You don’t seem like your usual self.”

He managed to glance over at her the answer dancing around in his brain. Isn’t it obvious, I’m in love with the last person I should be in love with. He spoke the lie sliding from him so easily. “Work has just been hectic lately.”

She managed to give him a small teasing smile. “So it’s been nothing out of the ordinary.”

He felt a small smile cross his lips at the statement. He had been pretty open about the somewhat hectic nature of his job. That was something he’d always liked about her, how she was willing to listen to him discuss his job without ever shying away or showing disgust at some of the more morbid aspects of it. He wasn’t accustomed to people not being fazed by his choice in career.

She spoke again the words sliding from her so easily. “If there’s something bothering you then you know you can tell me. I’d like to think I’m a pretty good listener.”

“You are, I mean- you are a good listener and I appreciate it. This is just something…it’s just something I have to figure out on my own.” He admitted knowing there was no way he could tell her the truth.

He spoke again before she had time to press him for more information. “What about you? Didn’t you say your classes have been really intense lately?”

She felt a small genuine smile cross her lips still a little impressed by Jimmy’s ability to remember these details about her life. Somehow he’d gotten her to open up to him just as much as he seemed to want to open up to her. There was just something about him that had made it so easy for her to trust him to open up despite their arrangement.

She’d only had this type of arrangement once before with another man, but it hadn’t felt like this.

She hadn’t been lying to Jimmy when he’d first contacted her. She was still new to this type of work. An acquaintance had encouraged her to give it a shot. It was an easy way to make money quick. You could set your rules and your own boundaries. It was a fast way to make a lot of money without having to work very hard.

Y/N was in desperate need for some form of income and the usual part time job just wasn’t covering it. It seemed easy enough. All she had to do was spend some time with some old wealthy guy and make a quick paycheck. She didn’t have to do a thing he didn’t want to do. She was the one in charge.

Her first attempt at this hadn’t ended well. The guy was too pushy. He hadn’t exactly respected her rules and she’d cut him off. No amount of money was worth the disrespect.

She was almost considering getting out of the business around the time Jimmy had contacted her.

Jimmy wasn’t what she’d been expecting. He was different from the usual men who had propositioned her on the sugar baby website. She was accustomed to old graying business men old enough to be her father who seemed to believe that sugar baby equaled prostitute.

Jimmy wasn’t some old graying business man who wanted her to put out because he threw money at her. He’d never really pushed her for anything more than she’d offered. Maybe that was why she’d been the one who’d offered to give him more. Jimmy had seemed just happy to have her company. She couldn’t help but to want to please him as badly as he seemed to rely on making her happy.

To be totally honest she couldn’t help but to depend on his happiness as much as he seemed to depend on hers. She couldn't deny the fact that spending time with him did give her some sense of joy. She could also admit that Jimmy did seem to be an interesting guy. Although, he seemed kind of lonely to be honest. It didn't feel like he had much of a social life outside of his coworkers. It seemed as though his career ate up so much of his time. His job seemed so sad really, but she couldn't deny that it was fascinating to hear about. She couldn’t help but to think he must see so many heartbreaking things at work though. She didn’t understand how he could be so positive in his line of work.

She’d been surprised when he’d sent her his photo. She’d been expecting another guy old enough to be her dad. Jimmy wasn’t that much older than her. She hadn’t been lying to him, he was a cute guy. She had to wonder why he felt the need to seek her out. She’d quickly realized why of course. He just seemed shy; almost painfully so. It was obvious that Jimmy Palmer was a little nervous around women. Hence why he had needed her. She’d figured she was doing the man a favor. She could help him build up his confidence. She had just never expected to like him this much.

He was unlike anyone she’d ever met.

Jimmy Palmer was dangerous.

The more she got to know him the more she began to realize this simple fact.

She tried to shush the thoughts in her brain trying her best to play it cool and stay as calm and collected as she always did with him. “Finals week is coming. It’s always stressful. It’s nothing I can’t handle though.”

He felt the words leave him without hesitation. “Maybe when it’s all over we can do something special to celebrate…Maybe we can take a trip or do something like that…anything you want….I mean if you don’t have plans. You probably have plans.”

She replied not helping but to dislike the way he seemed to deflate at his own suggestion when it hit him that she might have plans for the end of her semester that didn’t involve him. “I don’t have plans. I’m sure something can be arranged for us.”

She paused not helping but to tease him. “A trip might be nice. Though it’s a little dangerous to tell me I can have anything I want.”

He felt his spirits lift at the promise of more time with her. He felt the words leave him knowing his words rang so true. “I’d give you anything you wanted, no questions asked.”

She chuckled at this statement, her hand pressing to his cheek not help but to be amused at the way he leaned into her touch. She managed to speak ignoring the warm feeling that washed over her at the way he was staring down at her. “Like I said, a dangerous promise to make me, Handsome. You should be careful I might just take you up on that offer.”

He cleared his throat remembering something he’d been hanging on to with the intention of giving it to her in a few months. He’d planned on waiting until her semester ended but maybe it wouldn’t hurt to give it to her early. Seeing her happy always seemed to lift his mood.

He could admit this gift was something special. The second he’d spotted it his mind had gone to her. To be honest he may have bought the particular gift with the hopes that the message behind it would read out loud and clear to her without him having to even say the words.

He felt the words leave him as he reluctantly pulled from her touch. “I have something for you.”

She watched him disappear to his bedroom not helping but to be intrigued. The gifts he gave her were certainly always a surprise. He’d never seemed to have any expectations with the gifts he gave her, but she always felt the need to thank him. What better way to thank him than by pleasuring him?

It was something she hadn’t exactly done in her previous arrangement. She’d always figured it wasn’t a line she was willing to cross with a client.

She could admit that it had been easy to bring intimacy into her arrangement with Jimmy. He was an attractive guy and he seemed so eager to please her. He seemed determined to make her feel good. She figured it was a good ego boost for him, she was doing him a favor helping build up that confidence. If anything she figured it was a job perk for her.

Still she could admit that the more times she allowed their arrangement to cross this line the more complex her feelings towards Jimmy became.

She didn’t have much time to hyperfocus on the complexity of her feelings as Jimmy reappeared holding a small gift bag.

She took it from him as he sat down beside her, the words sliding from her. “I’ll never say no to a present.”

She widened her eyes, a bit stunned by what she pulled from the gift bag. The necklace was contained in a little velvety pouch. She felt a little breathless as she stared down at the red garnet hanging from a golden chain.

Jimmy spoke the words falling from him. “I remembered you said it’s your favorite gemstone.”

He paused remembering how she had told him quite a bit about it during one of their dates to a museum. There had been an exhibit on gemstones and he’d found that Y/N knew quite a bit about the subject. He could remember hanging on to every word she’d said. “From what I remember of what you told me, garnet was actually one of the most popular stones used during the Victorian era. You also said that it’s actually associated with pomegranate seeds and that according to greek mythology it was associated with Persephone.”

She nodded her head amazed he’d even recalled this conversation. “It is. It’s associated with pomegranates due to the red hue. It goes back to the myth of Hades giving Persephone a pomegranate so she would be bound to the underworld and would have to return to him when Spring ended. So greek mythology associates it as a gift to give an estranged lover with the hopes they will return to them. Greeks used to exchange garnet to travellers as a token of safe travels.”

Jimmy cleared his throat easily remembering more of what she’d told him. He spoke unable to stop himself from saying it, his true feelings spilling from him. “Garnets are also supposed to represent friendship and…love, they’re supposed to represent passionate love.”

She parted her lips, hesitant to ask him if that’s what this necklace represented to him, but she didn’t have a chance as his cell phone began to ring, breaking his gaze from hers.

He cleared his throat as he answered his phone, his brow furrowing as he listened to the person on the other end of the line for a long while before actually speaking. “Yes, Dr. Mallard. Of course, I’ll be there right away. I understand.”

Y/N didn’t speak until he hung up the phone the moment they’d shared over this newest gift too far away to grasp again.

She cleared her throat trying to play off her true feelings. “Work calling?”

“Yeah, dead petty officer found in a dumpster behind a diner.” Jimmy admitted trying not to give away too much knowing he couldn’t exactly risk breaking evidence protocol.

She gathered her coat and her gift placing the necklace in her purse as she headed for his front door.

Jimmy walked her to the door, Jimmy and she staring at one another for a brief moment. He felt himself lean closer to her, everything in him screaming to take his chance. Everything in him screamed that he had to show her what he was trying to say with the necklace. He couldn’t keep doing this. He had to show her how he felt before it drove him insane. He needed more than this arrangement. He couldn’t fight this any longer. Even if it hurt him he had to try.

She turned her face from his silently rejecting his attempt to press his lips to hers as she spoke. “Be safe at work.”

Jimmy felt his heart ache at what was so clearly a symbol of her rejecting how he felt. Of course she couldn’t feel the same. Of course this wasn’t real.

“I will, thank you.” He stated his eyes turning from hers as she pulled from him.

He closed his eyes, his heart cracking as he fought the urge to chase after her. Her reaction to his attempt to kiss her had told him all he needed to know about how she felt. She didn’t want him, not in the way he wanted her.

He could distinctly hear a voice in the back of his head that sounded all too much like Tony’s repeating the same words Tony had said months ago. I don’t get the appeal of being treated like a human ATM.

A Human ATM, of course, that’s all Jimmy was to her. He was a fool to ever hope for more.

………………………………………………………………………………

Y/N found herself sitting up in her bedroom, the garnet necklace sitting in her hand, her mind going ninety miles an hour. The necklace, that damn necklace. Why’d he have to go and do that? Why’d he have to do this?

The other gifts hadn’t been so intimate. The other gifts hadn’t meant anything. They’d been innocent gifts; a perfume she liked, a pair of earrings she thought was pretty, a nice silky robe that cost a bit more than she’d usually feel comfortable spending on one item of clothing, a dozen roses, a pretty red cashmere scarf.

Those gifts had been nice of course, but they hadn’t had any meaning behind them, not like this necklace.

This wasn’t supposed to be like this. He wasn’t supposed to get attached. She wasn’t supposed to get attached.

It was inevitable a voice in the back of her brain told her. She’d taken him to bed, it was bound to happen. That kind of intimacy meant too much for it to just be another part of their arrangement.

That had been her first mistake; taking him to bed allowing him to make love to her more than once.

It was just supposed to be sex, but then again was sex really ever just sex?

Maybe that was why she’d always told herself she’d never sleep with a client. Jimmy had made her throw out those rules so easily though. She’d given in to her own lust and it had bit her in the ass.

She may have never allowed him to press his lips to hers, but that hadn’t stopped those feelings from blooming within them.

Why did Jimmy have to be so sweet and charming and so kind and funny? Why did he have to be him?

This had been a mistake. This entire arrangement had been a mistake.

She’d realized it was a mistake from the start. She’d realized it was only going to end in disaster when she’d realized that she actually enjoyed her time spent with him.

She’d gone into their arrangement expecting it to be just like her previous experience where she had to smile and tolerate someone for a few hours knowing that it would be well worth the paycheck.

She didn’t have to tolerate Jimmy. She didn’t have to pretend with him.

She genuinely enjoyed being with him. Her heart lifted each time a call from him came. She felt a feeling of such warmth and adoration wash over her anytime he told her he needed her.

It wasn’t fair.

She had known she was fucked when she’d started feeling guilty about the deposits he’d placed into her bank account. She’d known she was well and truly screwed when she’d had the realization she’d like to spend time with him for free.

Her mind went to him far more often than she wanted. She remembered stories he’d told her or little habits he had. She remembered far too much about him for it to be just an arrangement between them.

What was she supposed to do now?

He clearly wanted more if this necklace and that almost kiss meant what she thought it meant.

This was no foundation to start a relationship on.

What were they supposed to tell people when they asked how they met? He was my sugar daddy and after he dropped a crap load of money on me I realized I was in love with him. He bought me a garnet necklace and I couldn’t deny how I felt about him anymore.

She knew how that made her sound. People already had enough to say when they found out about her little side hustle. People assumed the worst. Finding out she was dating a client would just reconfirm people’s worst assumptions about her.

She was so lost in her own thoughts that she barely heard her roommate enter the room, a small frown crossing the girl’s face. “What’s with you?”

Y/N sighed ignoring the question choosing to ask her own question. “What do you need?”

Her roommate shot her a sheepish smile as she spoke. “Can I borrow that dress you have? The green one? I have a date.”

Y/N nodded her head giving a nonverbal answer, her brain easily sliding back into her own loop of despair over this entire mess.

Her roommate spoke a small sigh leaving her. “Why are you at home? You’re usually out with the Sugar Daddy on the weekends.”

Y/N let out a soft sigh her voice tense. “He had work.”

“That doesn’t explain why you look like someone pissed in your cheerios.” Her roommate easily remarked Y/N rolling her eyes at this statement.

She spoke, deciding to just be honest about it. “Shit’s getting complicated with him.”

Her roommate spoke easily, guessing the issue. “He’s getting a little too attached?”

Y/N sighed hating to admit it out loud. “He’s not the only one.”

“Shit, well what are you doing to do about it?” Her roommate dared to ask Y/N feeling her heart crack as the only possible solution came to light.

She had kept her profile on the sugar baby website though she hadn’t had any other clients but Jimmy. She’d had no reason to. He paid her well enough to only keep him. To be honest, it had seemed almost wrong to take on any other client but him even though it was something she knew some girls did.

She sighed remembering all those messages in her inbox. She’d gotten some messages pretty recently actually.

This was a sign. She should just admit that this couldn’t last forever. It was time to let Jimmy go. He could find someone else. He had worked up his confidence with her. It was inevitable that this couldn’t last. He had to move on with his life. She ignored the way her stomach turned at the thought of him with someone else. This was for the best. She had to do the smart thing for the both of them. She wasn’t right for him. A relationship with him wouldn’t work. She needed to set him free.

“I can’t do this with him anymore. It’s time to move on.” Y/N stated hating to admit it. It was the only way this could end though.

It was inevitable.

……………………………………………………………………………………………..

Jimmy Palmer knew he’d screwed everything up.

She wasn’t returning his calls. She wouldn’t pick up when he called her. She didn’t respond to any of his messages.

It had been weeks now and it was so obvious she was ignoring him.

He’d really gone and messed everything up.

He’d lost her. Then again was she ever his to have?

How did it all get so screwed up?

He knew how, it had all gone to hell when he’d fallen in love with her.

His despondent mood was apparently noticeable to everyone despite his unwillingness to open up about it.

He couldn’t imagine anyone would understand how he felt anyhow. They would all just judge him if they knew the details behind this entire mess.

Dr. Mallard had tried to get him to open up, but Dr. Mallard was the last person Jimmy wanted to know about this entire situation. He wasn’t sure his mentor would approve of any of this. He wasn’t sure Dr. Mallard would have much sympathy for him.

Apparently his mood was so low that even Tony had taken some sympathy on him and in a very uncharacteristic Tony act he cornered Jimmy in the hallway outside of Autopsy fast to speak to him before Jimmy could say no. “You and me Autopsy Gremlin. We’re hitting a nightclub. I don’t know what your issue is but it’s nothing a night out can’t fix. I am speaking for everyone when I say we’re sick of watching you mope. I’m guessing that a woman is the only reason behind why you’re so moody. We’re going out tonight. I feel sorry enough for you that I’ll even be your wingman. You need a rebound and you’ll be good to go.”

Jimmy wanted to say no, but he’d found himself unable to get out of it as Tony had shown up at his front steps and had practically dragged him out of the apartment.

That was how he’d wound up here in a dim nightclub, the neon lights making his head hurt, the music far too loud.

Tony had already tried to get Jimmy to talk to a few girls, but Jimmy wasn’t willing to play along with any of this.

Tony had long ago given up and had promptly ditched Jimmy to go hit on a group of girls that were part of a bachelorette party. He’d tried to drag Jimmy along with him insisting that bridesmaids were always up for a fun night, but Jimmy had resisted.

He’d found himself alone at the bar debating the best way he could escape this nightclub and go home.

He sipped his drink knowing that the alcohol would only make him feel worse.

He let his eyes scan the club the smiling faces of the other patrons doing nothing but making him feel even more terrible. There were so many couples here. Seeing them so happy and in love just made his heart crack all the more.

Why was he like this? He should have known that it would end like this. This was bound to end in heartbreak.

He almost dropped the drink he was holding as he spotted her. It couldn’t be. No fate wasn’t that cruel was it?

It was Y/N and she wasn’t alone.

He felt his stomach turn as he watched the older man she was with slide his arm around her leaning in far too close to her.

She’d told Jimmy that he was her only client. Had it been a lie? Or had his love pushed her away into the arms of a new client?

He felt a wave of jealousy wash over him at the sight of her suitor. The man was much older than him and to be honest Jimmy thought he looked kind of scummy. Sure his suit was nice, and he was handsome enough. It was the way he was gripping onto Y/N though. He was holding her far too tight in Jimmy’s opinion.

As much as he wanted to turn away he couldn’t take his eyes off them.

He felt that jealousy boil down to anger when he watched the man lean in closer to Y/N whispering something in her ear. Judging by the look on her face she didn’t like it because she made an attempt to pull away. Her suitor apparently wasn’t pleased with this and took a tight grip to her arm yanking her back towards him.

Jimmy felt himself moving before he had a chance to second guess himself.

He felt the words leave him squaring his shoulders trying to make himself look far more intimidating than he felt. “Hey, leave her alone.”

Y/N stared up at him, the color washing from her face. Of course he was here. Why would fate be any kinder to her?

The guy stared up at Jimmy seemingly unimpressed with his attempts to look intimidating. “Back off buddy. This is between me and her.”

Jimmy didn’t back off his voice still firm knowing he at least had the advantage of being taller than this guy. “You need to let go of her. She’s trying to get away from you.”

Y/N spoke trying to smooth this all over before someone got hurt. “Jimmy-”

She didn’t have a chance to continue as her suitor spoke. “You know him Doll? You didn’t mention having any other clients.”

He glared up at Jimmy fast to speak again. “Listen Jim, I don’t know how much money you’ve given her, but I’m paying her tonight, not you. I dropped a good bit of money on her tonight so I suggest you back off and let me get my money’s worth. You can have her back when I’m done with her. Trust me, I’m having some buyers remorse right now so you might get her back sooner than later.”

Jimmy felt his fists clench as he spoke. “I’m only saying it one more time, let go of her.”

“Or what huh? Are you serious? You’re willing to get in a fight over a whore?” Jimmy saw red at the statement and raised his clenched fist allowing it to collide with the man’s nose, a crack sounding out audible even with the club music beating around them.

The man let go of Y/N to clutch his nose, blood pooling around him he cursing.

Y/N sighed grabbing a hold of Jimmy’s wrist as she spotted a very annoyed club bouncer making his way towards them apparently having spotted the situation.

She dragged him from the room speaking to the bouncer trying to smooth over the situation. “I know, My boyfriend saw that guy harassing me, he’s had too much to drink. I’m taking him home. Please don’t call the cops we’re leaving.”

The bouncer glared down at them, his voice gruff. “Just leave the premises and don’t come back.”

She sighed yanking Jimmy behind her heading out the entrance and around the alleyway her face flushing with embarrassment and rage.

She spoke, unable to stop herself from sounding pissed. “What in the hell was that Jimmy?”

Jimmy spoke his own anger still so apparent. “You’re welcome for defending you from a creep.”

“I had it handled. I didn’t ask for your help.” She snapped back her arms crossing as she tried to control her anger.

Jimmy scoffed at this, shaking his head. “Oh yeah, you looked like you had it all under control.”

“What’s your problem. Last I checked I’m allowed to have other clients besides you.” She remarked glaring up at him.

“You said I was your only client.” Jimmy exclaimed, unable to stop himself from saying it.

Y/N sighed shaking her head as she spoke. “You were. This was my first date with this guy.”

He spoke, needing to say it. “It’s going to be the last.”

She glared up at him ready to tell him that he had no right to tell her what to do, but he spoke again the words that left him making her defenses crumble. “I just-the way he was touching you. How he talked about you, I couldn’t stand it. You don’t deserve to be treated like that, no one does. Even if this arrangement between us is over, I can’t stand you being treated that way.”

She felt a lump develop in the back of her throat, her voice soft as she spoke. “I won’t see him again…I actually…I think I’m done with this whole Sugar Baby thing.”

She crossed her arms a little tighter ignoring the shiver that ran through her. She regretted not wearing a coat tonight. The little red dress her client had sent her for tonight was more revealing than she’d usually wear.

The message from this client had been sitting in her inbox for almost a month now but she’d just replied to it earlier this week. Against her better judgement she’d agreed to a date almost immediately. She thought it was necessary if she wanted to forget Jimmy Palmer.

Jimmy sighed, spotting her shiver, taking her by shock as he took off his own coat draping it over her shoulders.

She held it against her hating the feeling of warmth that washed over her both at the warmth of the wool coat and the sweetness of the action. She managed to speak averting her eyes from him. “Thank you.”

The two stood in silence for a moment unsure of where to go from here. What could they say in a moment like this?

Y/N broke the silence, her voice soft and broken. “Why did you have to do it Jimmy? The damn necklace, why? You made everything too real.”

Jimmy sighed knowing exactly what she was asking. He spoke unable to stop himself from speaking the truth. “You can’t help who you fall in love with.”

She closed her eyes, a deep sigh leaving her. Jimmy spoke again needing to just say the words. “I love you Y/N, I love you. I know our situation isn’t typical, but I can’t deny how I feel.”

She shook her head, her eyes beginning to water as she gazed up at him. “You can’t be in love with me.”

“Why not, give me one good reason why I can’t.” Jimmy replied far too stubborn to let this go.

She spoke the words coming to her so easily. “Look at how we met Jimmy. Everything about this thing we have, it was all you paying me for my time. We never even had a real date where you didn’t pay me for my companionship. How do you even know what you feel for me is real?”

“I don’t care if I was paying you. I don’t care how any of this started. I know it’s real. I feel it everytime I look at you. I can’t deny how I feel about you Y/N. I love you. My mind is always with you. Anytime I have a moment of peace my mind goes to you and it feels like my heart is always with you. I can’t stop myself from loving you. I may have been paying you, but everything between us has been real. I’ve always been myself with you and I think I trust you enough to know that you’ve always been yourself with me. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before you. It’s real to me. I love you.” He insisted reaching out, taking her hand in his relieved that she didn’t pull it away.

She shook her head still wanting to deny this. This wouldn’t work. Couldn’t he see it? “What kind of foundation is that to build any kind of relationship on? You can’t be in love with me not when it started like this. What are you going to tell people when they ask how you met me? Are you really prepared to deal with people assuming the worst about us?”

“I don’t care what anyone thinks. If they can’t accept how I feel about you then I don’t want them in my life.” He insisted his hand not leaving hers as he stepped closer to her.

He stared down at her speaking from the heart needing to say it. “We can start again if that’s what it takes. If this can’t be our foundation then we can build a new one. We can start over.”

He paused letting go of her hand and holding his hand out to her as he spoke. “Hi it’s nice to meet you, my name is James Palmer, but my friends call me Jimmy. I work as a medical examiner’s assistant for NCIS. I’m currently taking classes to become a Dr. Palmer so I can take my medical examiner’s license exam. I like overly sweet coffee and I’ve been told I tell really terrible jokes. I’d like to take you out on a date, actually I’d like to take you on several dates.”

She couldn’t stop the smile from crossing her lips both hating and adoring that he was this sweet. Could he be right? Could they build an entirely new foundation? Could they start again?

She stared up at him, the answer so obvious. It was inevitable really. They’d set themselves on this path the second she’d responded to that first message he’d sent her. There was no denying how she felt.

She gave him her answer, leaning up her lips pressing to his. He managed to realize exactly what was happening easily, his hands pressing to her face deepening the kiss, it being everything he’d dreamed it might be.

She spoke as she reluctantly pulled from the kiss her voice soft. “I would love to go on several dates with you. As long as I can pay for some of those dates.”

He gave her a soft smile, his lips pressing back to hers as she spoke. “I love you Jimmy.”

He smiled into the kiss it growing in passion so effortlessly.

She spoke her voice soft as she once again pulled her lips from his. “I don’t want to be your sugar baby anymore. I think I’d rather just be yours.”

He pressed his lips to hers the answer leaving him before his lips met hers. “I don’t want to be your Sugar Daddy anymore. I’m already yours.”

#Jimmy Palmer #Jimmy Palmer x Reader #NCIS #Jimmy Palmer fanfic

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sdvvillagers · 3 years

Text

George and Evelyn - First Flower Dance

I doubt I’ll ever do anything with this beyond these two pieces, but I recently did some writing prompts for a Discord server I’m in and I was pleased with what I wrote. Figured I’d post them here since, well... kinda fits the blog pretty well. The prompts were for “asking someone to the Flower Dance” and “after the Flower Dance” so I just kept the same story going. Enjoy!

The rumors were hard to ignore, Evelyn had heard them from just about everyone in town; Bronson Meadows was going to ask her to dance at the Flower Dance. It was a prospect Evelyn really didn't have any strong opinions on, though most of the girls in town were terribly jealous. Any one of them would have loved the chance to be asked to dance by such a charming and handsome man. Bronson was fine enough to Evelyn, but she certainly didn't see what the fuss was about. There wasn't really anything noteworthy about him other than his looks, but that seemed to be enough to cause the other girls in town to swoon. Evelyn was the only one who seemed to demand more from a man. However, she supposed dancing with Bronson would be better than dancing alone. The options were limited in a town where the eligible women outnumbered the eligible men almost two to one.

However, the week before the Flower Dance a new family moved to town; the Mullners. William, Edith, and their son George. Word that a young man would be moving to town only a week before the Flower Dance was enough to cause hysteria among Evelyn and her friends. Suddenly Bronson Meadows didn't matter all that much in the face of a mysterious stranger. All of the families in town stopped by the Mullner's home offering their welcome and of course some house-warming gifts in the form of home-cooked meals. New families in town were always very exciting. After the first few days in town, however, one thing was pretty well understood by the girls in town; George Mullner was undesirable. He was a bit lanky and awkward, didn't exactly have the best looks, and seemed terribly shy. No one had even heard two words from him when they met the family and despite a lack of eligible bachelors in town, no one seemed eager to ask George Mullner to dance. Yet Evelyn found him to be very intriguing. Yes, he wasn't exactly confident and charming like Bronson, but that hardly mattered to her. He was actually strangely adorable. And yes, he was quiet and shy, but it only made him more intriguing. At the very least he seemed respectful and kind and although none of the other girls in town thought very highly of him, he had piqued Evelyn's curiosity.

When the day of the Flower Dance arrived, Evelyn started the long walk to the clearing in the forest with her family, feeling nervous about the festival. The more she thought about Bronson asking her to dance, the more nervous she became. Bronson was handsome, but Evelyn really couldn't find anything else redeeming about him. As they got closer to the festival, Evelyn overheard her group of friends speculating about who might end up dancing with who. It made Evelyn a little sick to her stomach to hear her friends all hoping that George wouldn't ask any of them to dance. It seemed incredibly unfair to someone so new to town.

Once the event had begun and the older residents in town settled in to conversations or loaded up plates of food, there was the same awkward shuffling and meandering of the younger residents. It was always a dance in itself, watching everyone cross the field and back, trying to figure out who had been asked yet and who hadn't, what would be the right time, what would be the best way to do it. In the first fifteen minutes, no one had asked anyone to dance yet, it was the boys on one side of the field and the girls on the other, almost sizing each other up to see who would make the first move. It was then that Evelyn's breath caught in her chest; Bronson puffed out his chest and stepped forward, finally deciding to make his move. Evelyn knew from the moment he made a move that she didn't want to dance with him. The fact that her gut reaction was dread was all the proof she needed that she didn't want to dance with him.

As Bronson stepped forward, so did Evelyn. She wasn't entirely sure what she was doing, it was so impulsive that she even took herself by surprise, but now all eyes were on her. It appeared as though she were meeting Bronson in the middle of the field, but that wasn't where Evelyn was headed. Her eyes fell on George, dressed simply in a white dress shirt and blue tie, looking very awkward and alone in a corner of the field. When Evelyn strode right past Bronson, who had opened his mouth to speak, the crowd surrounding them gasped. Evelyn ignored Bronson's scoffs and continued her walk toward George Mullner. When she locked eyes with him, he looked terribly confused and even a little scared. The crowd started to close in, eager to hear and see what was going on. It was unheard of that Evelyn ignored Bronson's advance but it was even more unheard of for her to approach someone else. It was very uncommon, and frowned upon, for a girl to ask a boy to dance. And yet with all eyes upon her, with Bronson gasping in disbelief behind her, she looked at George and addressed him with a smile.

"Welcome to Pelican Town, George... would you like to dance with me?"

George's face lit up in such a sweet and endearing way, Evelyn knew right away that she made the right choice. Too intimidated by the crowd around him and by such a forward, unexpected question, George simply nodded.

~*~

Evelyn watched Bronson Meadows walk past her, arm in arm with her best friend Judith. Judith and Bronson were giggling and flirting together as they had through most of the Flower Dance. After Evelyn had asked George Mullner to dance, Bronson went after Judith instead. Whether or not this was an attempt of his to get back at Evelyn or make her jealous, she couldn’t care less. Bronson and Judith could have each other for all she cared. She was too intrigued by this new stranger to care too much about Bronson Meadows.

The Flower Dance with George had been a fun, if not awkward, event. Most people in town were staring at them through the entire event and it was hard to escape the whispers and constant attention. Evelyn felt bad for George during the opening dance when he clearly had not had the chance yet to learn the dance steps. It wasn’t his fault, of course, and yet Evelyn could hear Bronson scoffing under his breath while Judith giggled.

At the time of the opening dance, Evelyn still didn’t really know much about George, but she was eager to get started. When the first dance ended, many of the couples remained on the dance floor and even a few of the married couples took to the dance floor; Evelyn’s parents and George’s parents included. Evelyn reasoned that it would be a great time to step away from the dance floor to get to know George better. Yet even then, sitting on a bench near the river, he still seemed so closed off. He kept clocking the people who were still staring and seemed very aware of the attention they were receiving. The time they spent together was primarily filled with smalltalk, idle chitchat and pleasantries that allowed them to very slowly get to know one another. George was softspoken and had few words to say, but he was a wonderful listener. Though as much as Evelyn enjoyed having someone like George to talk to, she was more eager to hear more about him. But in such a large group of people, it seemed unlikely that George would be comfortable enough to open up to her.

When the dance was over, Bronson and Judith took off alone to take the long way home. The other girls in town watched them walk by and whispered excitedly to each other, giggling in their giddiness. Thankfully, the prospect of a blossoming romance between Bronson and Judith was enough to distract attention away from Evelyn and George for once. As the bulk of the crowd left the forest clearing where the dance was held to head home, Evelyn hung back and motioned for George to do the same. He seemed confused, but quietly did as she requested. Once everyone was out of earshot, Evelyn turned to George and smiled.

“Thanks for dancing with me today,” Evelyn said sweetly.

“T-thank you for asking me,” George stammered.

“I didn’t do it for you,” Evelyn replied plainly. “Well, I suppose I did. What I mean is that I was intrigued by you.”

“You’re intrigued by me?” George asked in awe. “I’m nothing special. You’re the intriguing one.”

“Hardly,” Evelyn laughed. “You don’t even really know me yet.”

“I know your favorite season is spring because you love the flowers, I know your favorite color is purple, I know you’re trying to learn how to bake but you keep burning everything you try, I know you stare up at the clouds when you’re spaced out,” George ticked off completely from memory. Evelyn listened in awe and admiration as George rattled off all of the things she had told him while they had talked during the Flower Dance, impressed that George even cared enough not only to listen, but to remember.

“Y-you’re a really good listener,” Evelyn replied, smiling gently at George.

“I’m a better listener than I am a talker,” George admitted.

“But I’d love to listen to you whenever you’re ready,” Evelyn encouraged him. “I’ll tell you what, why don’t you meet me at the lake up in the mountains tomorrow, we can have a picnic lunch. Hardly anyone ever goes up there, we can be completely alone. I’ll bring some… slightly burnt… homemade biscuits and some jam. You can tell me all about yourself, if you want to, or I can just… tell you more about me until you’re ready.”

“I’d love to hear about you,” George teased. He cracked a playful smile, the first genuine smile Evelyn had seen from him all day.

“I’ll crack you yet, George Mullner, you just wait and see,” Evelyn said confidently. “Don’t think I’ll give up on you so easily.”

“I sure hope not,” George replied, his playful smile still lingering.

#sdv #stardew valley #sdv evelyn #sdv george #my fic #evelyn #george

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txtdiaries · 3 years

Text

Void - Chapter Three

SUMMARY | Amidst your world shattering to pieces, the boy you met long ago manages to fit everything back together again. Also - zombies. Lots and lots of zombies.

PAIRING | Yeonjun X Reader feat. TXT

CATEGORY | apocalypse au, end of the world, survival, angst, romance, enemies to lovers, slow burn, etc.

WORD COUNT | 3.3k

WARNINGS | dark content, swearing, gore, weapon possession, etc.

A/N | So this hasn’t been proofread, but I hope there aren’t too many mistakes and u guys enjoy it anyway. Thanku for reading! <3

SONG REC | Wires - The Neighbourhood

Preview / Chapter One / Chapter Two / Chapter Three

The sun is dipping behind the horizon, colors melting against sky as the car rolls along the freeway. The majority of the younger boys are asleep in the car, it is silent, and Yeonjun is stressed out.

Of course, who wouldn’t be? He almost lost his life to something that looked like it walked straight off the set of The Walking Dead. And Yeonjun has never forgotten his weapon - ever. It’s in that moment that he knows.

He has to get rid of the girl sitting in the passenger seat. Soon.

The silence is uncomfortable as he drives. Neither is speaking, and even though he isn’t looking at her, he knows she isn’t asleep.

After a few minutes of the silence ticking along with the minutes, Yeonjun feels like he is going to burst. And then, finally, she speaks.

“Listen… uh- Yanjun-”

“My name is Yeonjun.” The older boy sneers, accent thickening as he enunciates his Korean name, still annoyed. He realizes just how annoyed he always is with her.

“Right, sorry! Yeonjun.” He stays quiet, letting her go on.

“I’m really sorry for what happened back there. I may have overreacted a little bit.”

Yeonjun scoffs as she continues, “And I just want to thank you for saving my life. I really appreciate it.”

The girl sticks her hand out as if he’s not driving, and after he gives it a side glance, she retracks it.

“Maybe we can be friends, you know, work together?”

Yeonjun almost swerves off the freeway at 90 MPH.

“Here’s how this is gonna work...” He searches her eyes for a second, noticing how she sits up straighter. She replies quickly with a, “Y/N.”

“Okay, Y/N, this isn’t some fucked up stockholm syndrome situation. I didn’t tie you up and throw you in the back of my Jeep because I thought you were too precious to save, and I definitely didn’t do it because I wanted you with us. I did it because it was the only option, got it?”

The girl blinks at him.

“It was the only option, and at this point you’re just deadweight to us now, okay? We aren’t going to work together, and we sure as hell aren’t going to be friends.”

It’s silent for a lot longer this time, before Yeonjun hears the girl reply back in a whisper, “If I’m just deadweight to you, why did you save me?”

“Jun, where are we?” Soobin grumbles suddenly from the backseat, stirring a bit as he starts to wake up.

“Just about there, Soobin. Go back to sleep.” Yeonjun replies as he pulls off of I-86 and into what seems like the local college town of the area. He decides to ignore the girl’s question as he turns on the radio. Of course, it’s just the low sound of static, but it’s better than listening to her questions again.

The farther Yeonjun drives into the town, the more he starts to notice the tattered college flags hanging from the unlit street lamps, and all of the broken windows in every building they pass. As he drives with caution, Yeonjun can tell how eerily quiet it is, apart from the radio. He spots the girl looking out the window, and decides to do the same, allowing himself to survey their surroundings.

A few home style diners and restaurants dot the blocks they pass, along with small gas stations (probably empty), and a few fast food places as well. The road guides him to a gentle curve, and then he realizes that he’s going in the direction of an underpass. For some insane reason he doesn’t completely understand, the lights along the inside leading to the other side are on, and they guide him to something that is shocking for him to see. The underpass opens back up at the end in a way Yeonjun can only feel like exiting a time machine would be. The tunnel cuts off, barren and with the walking path fences on either side rusted and destroyed.

But that’s not the part Yeonjun is paying attention to.

The buildings are breathtaking. They are old stone, brick, and clearly had been worked on to keep their vintage roots. One of the buildings on the right has huge archway windows on the second floor, which the moon reflects off beautifully. The street lamps are winded with decorative mistletoe, but the ribbons attached are tattered and almost black. Yeonjun sees what used to be bars, restaurants, all different colors. Green, red, and a pretty maroon color. He’s almost sad to see all of this - to get a glimpse of the real world back in front of him.

The farther he drives, the worse it gets. The town is beautiful, and he can only imagine how beautiful it used to be in the world before.

“This is old town.” The girl says softly from the passenger seat as Yeonjun approaches a huge park, even more trees on display and decorative lamps. He almost thinks he sees a fountain before he looks back at the girl.

“What did you say?”

“Old town. Like, downtown. The original one for the city.”

“How…” Yeonjun is surprised the girl knows as his curiosity intensifies.

“I uh… I used to live here. I went to college here.” She clarifies, avoiding his gaze now.

The older boy is even more surprised than he was before. She looked old enough to be in college, but he didn’t even consider it. Someone else having a life before all of this, much like he did. He never considered it until now.

“Up ahead it’ll take you to the fairly decent houses, lots of cops and bankers used to live on this side of town, but the houses will be trashed most likely. The long road past that will take you up the mountain to the super rich houses on top. Those might have some food and supplies, but it’s more dangerous. The high school is to the right, but the college is back around the way we came. Up to you.” She nods, not speaking anymore. Yeonjun is surprised she’s even helping him, but he hadn’t thought that far ahead.

“Thank you.” He says awkwardly, turning back around the way they came. He figures the college is their best bet. More buildings to search for safety in, and all relatively close to the gas stations.

She says nothing as he makes his way back toward the college.

The drive to the campus is somehow more tense than before, and Yeonjun is grateful when they finally pull into the main parking lot, in front of a building labeled, Museum of Natural History.

“The SUB is up ahead.” The girl speaks flatly, and Yeonjun gives her a confused look.

“Student Union Building. They have an event center inside, super spacious, just incase.” She clarifies, looking at him again.

“Sorry, I just never went to college before this all happened…” He explains, finally parking the Jeep.

The parking lot extends to a walkway that goes under the second floor of the SUB, and Yeonjun finds himself parking there to keep the car hidden. It’s almost like the whole slab of the SUB’s second floor is covering the walkway for a few yards, and then connects to the neighboring Museum’s second floor too. Past the end of it all, he sees a grand cement staircase leading up to the side door of the building. It’s perfect.

He pushes the gearstick into park and finally cuts the engine, sitting silent for a few moments.

The smaller girl is still gazing out the windshield, eyes scanning along the huge quad slowly.

“Is it weird to be back here?” Yeonjun doesn’t know why he asks, but he can clearly see the girl is visibly upset as she has her hands bundled in fists.

Without answering, she unlatches her seatbelt, swings open the door, and steps into the cold. After her feet hit the ground and she slams the door closed, the rest of the boys in the back groggily come to.

“We’re here.” Yeonjun sighs, turning on the upper light and pocketing the keys, “Grab your stuff, we’re setting up camp for the night.”

And then he’s getting out of the car himself, slamming his door and heading for the trunk.

“Hyung look, there’s a giant tiger statue back there!” Kai says with excitement, motioning back through the door they just came in through.

“It’s a Bengal.” Y/N corrects the youngest boy before leading the group farther in the empty building. The inside is pitch black, but the moonlight allows Yeonjun to see their surroundings, just barely.

To their right there is a huge staircase leading to the lowest level of the building, and a long hallway filled with multiple tables and chairs, like a huge eating area. Next to the help desk in front of them, small restaurants are grouped side by side as the window parallel shines even more light on all of the walls. The girl drags them to the left, taking them toward the offices and hallway that lie ahead.

“Fuck.” She says when she finally sees the door. It is bolted shut, with wooden planks and furniture piled against it. There is no way they’re getting in.

“Plan B?” Yeonjun asks annoyingly, making the girl brush past him, feet stomping along the way.

“Shut the fuck up, will you?” She snaps as she drags them back past all the small food places, leading them toward a staircase near the side of the building. Yeonjun can’t help but make another snarky comment at her. Soobin laughs under his breath. The youngest boys look shocked.

“Doesn’t this place have elevators?”

She glares at him when he speaks again, and juts her chin to the elevator along the right wall as they walk into the stairwell, saying nothing as she climbs up the stairs.

The boys all follow her, saying nothing at their interaction.

“Hey, Y/N, do you know where we’re going now?” Soobin speaks up, his voice timid as he catches up to the angry girl.

“Yep. Clearly the elevators don’t work but the top floor is our safest bet. There are tons of big rooms where we’ll be safe in. Unless you guys wanna spend the night in the bowling alley or the movie theater.” She throws in the last options offhandedly, knowing both will just be annoying to settle down for the night.

The two youngests perk up at this though, all voicing their excitement.

“There’s really a bowling alley and a movie theater here? This place was so awesome.”

“It is awesome.” Y/N clarifies, swallowing thickly before she leads the rest of the boys up the remainder of the flights.

Once on the top floor, Yeonjun knows why the girl chose it for their spot. There are dozens of lined rooms down the hall on either of them, and huge windows that show the entire campus and more, the land extending for miles upon miles. He can even see the mountain just off campus, trees swaying in the wind.

“Here you go.” She says, finally shrugging off the backpack she was actually able to retrieve from the trunk, “Home sweet hallway.”

The largest room is to their right, which gives them a view of both doors on either side of the hallway. Yeonjun nods a bit before appointing the group to set up their own sleeping bags and spaces.

The three youngest always stick together, all chatting about whatever is on their mind as they set up their sleeping bags, and Yeonjun notices that Soobin is back to chatting with Y/N easily, saying something he can’t pick up as he starts laying out his sleeping bag as well.

It’s like that for a few minutes, all of the boys laying out their sleeping bags, whipping their blankets in the air to get it into shape before laying it on the thin material of their makeshift bed. Yeonjun honestly cannot wait to sleep. He’s so tired, he doesn’t even think much about the fact that they can’t eat dinner. He hopes they will be able to find some food tomorrow.

“Hey Jun?” Soobin asks, catching the attention of the older boy as he looks up toward him.

“Where is Y/N going to sleep?”

All eyes settle on the girl sitting criss-cross on the floor, shivering lightly with her coat draped over her shoulders. Soobin frowns at Yeonjun before motioning toward her obviously, and the older boy just sighs.

“It’s not my problem Soob-”

“She can sleep in my sleeping bag if she wants.” The younger boy offers, already looking back toward the girl again. Yeonjun feels his heart leap up into his throat. He has to try hard to not eagerly deny the fact that she very much cannot sleep with Soobin.

It’s not that Soobin is a bad guy - quite the opposite actually. And the last thing Yeonjun needs is to hear the girl giggling from Soobin’s goofy antics all night long. No, he will not have that.

“She’ll sleep with me.” Yeonjun says firmly, nodding before he kicks off his shoes and places them next to his flimsy little blanket layers on the ground.

“Not happening.” Y/N finally speaks up, glaring at Yeonjun, “I’d rather get mauled by a zombie.”

“Be my guest then, that is, if you don’t freeze first.”

Yeonjun grins sarcastically at the shivering girl, and even though she is wearing multiple layers, he knows she’lll still be freezing if she doesn’t contain enough heat to get her through the night.

“Jun.” Soobin tries to interject, but the blue-haired boy just glares at him.

“Not a debate, Soobin. Go to sleep.”

The tallest boy looks sadly at the girl, before turning on his back away from her. The rest of the boys do the same, leaving her shivering in silence.

Yeonjun doesn’t know what time it is when he feels movement from his side. His eyes snap open in fear quick enough, though, and he almost reaches for his bat next to him before a soft voice breaks through the darkness.

“Jesus, relax. It’s just me.”

The girl’s teeth are chattering as she crawls under the layers of blankets Yeonjun has above his body, and he doesn’t say anything as the side of her body is suddenly flush against his.

“Thought you’d rather be mauled to death.” He rasps, still half asleep as he nuzzles further into the blanket.

“Shut up, will you?” The girl responds, voice still low so she doesn’t wake the others.

It is quiet for a while, both of them just breathing together. Yeonjun doesn’t know if it’s awkward, but he’s too tired to care. After driving for so long, it starts to take its toll.

“Yeonjun?” The girl says softly, causing the older boy to glance over at her. She sighs before speaking again, “Who were you before all of this?”

The boy blinks at her, mind reeling before he stares up at the tiled ceiling again.

Does he want to do this? Does he really want to open up to the girl who he can’t help but fight with every single second?

He doesn’t have much of a choice as he opens his mouth, and his exhausted body starts speaking honestly.

“I lived in Korea.” He explains, but he doesn’t know why she cares enough to ask. He doesn’t know why he cares enough to explain. He wouldn’t have asked about her, but it’s clear she had other intentions.

“I worked for a company called Big Hit. It’s like a company that trains and creates Idols. Kind of like celebrity performers.”

The girl listens intently to his words, not speaking as he goes on.

“This was our first debut, coming to America. I always dreamed about coming back. I studied in California for a few years when I was younger, but it was always my dream to come back. You know you’ve made it when you make it in America.”

Yeonjun shifts to his side to get more comfortable, and suddenly realizes how close they actually are. He can feel the girl’s breath across his cheeks, and he has to keep himself from pulling away with anxiety.

“I- um… the rest of the boys were in a group with me. We were all idols. But when the virus hit, we got stranded here. Our managers died in a car accident, and we were lucky to make it out alive. We all just want to go back home.”

He doesn’t know why, but somehow he can’t stop. Maybe it’s the way she’s looking at him, listening, or because he hasn’t talked to anyone like this in a long time.

“I loved dancing. I trained as an Idol for years, but it was all worth it because I loved it. Before all of this, I studied really hard, and I enjoyed hip hop the most. It was my favorite to dance to. Just being able to move my body freely to the music, I loved every second of it.”

Yeonjun stops now, not really knowing what else to say. He feels embarrassed, a bit flustered, and he tries to take the attention off of him as he asks, “Who were you before all of this, Y/N?”

The girl is still, eyes glossed over as she bites her lip a bit. Yeonjun can see it’s hard for her to talk about it, but she still does. She still opens up to him, because he did to her.

“I was… I was a student. I worked my ass off at community college to come here, and I got scholarships and grants just to be able to live here on my own. I had a rough time in high school, but college was supposed to change everything for me. I was living alone, trying to make friends, and just attempting to start my life. I came from a small town, where people get trapped like poison. No one comes out of my hometown unless they’re willing to risk everything for it.”

Yeonjun can feel his heart beating steadily against his ribcage as the girl speaks, and he can’t help but feel understood by her. He takes a deep breath to stomp the feeling down.

“I remember I was so excited to finally start. I was studying marketing and creative writing. I loved writing so much, I was so excited to be able to do what I loved. It may not seem like much, this town, but it’s all I had. It was the only chance I had at becoming someone else - someone better.”

She looks over at Yeonjun suddenly, and is surprised when he nods for her to continue.

“I grew up in this state my whole life, and my only goal was to leave. All I ever wanted was to leave.”

The smaller girl can’t help but get choked up, taking a few deep breaths to calm herself down. Yeonjun easily slides the blanket farther over her shoulder, hoping the softness will comfort her a bit.

It takes a bit for her to finish, but once she does, Yeonjun knows she is exhausted.

“So that was it. I made it here, and then the virus stole it all from me. My education, my family. All the hope I had. Just… gone.” She says, eyes now closed as she lies next to him. He doesn’t know what to say, and he truly doesn’t think anything he can say will make her feel any better.

“You should rest.” He whispers to her, hand moving up before he realizes what he’s doing.

Before Yeonjun knows it, he’s wrapping his arm halfway across the girl, holding across her chest in a hug, his hand holding onto her right shoulder gently.

He slightly expects her to swear at him. He also expects her to punch him in the face.

She does neither.

Instead, her breathing evens out, and she falls asleep like that. With her body finally warm next to Yeonjun’s, and a single tear slipping down the side of her cheek.

Yeonjun allows himself to fall into a deep slumber soon after.

After all, tomorrow, they have to get a move on.

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suitofvibraniumarmor · 4 years

Text

If You Just Realize

Part One: Blindsided

Summary: Sebastian’s close friend stands by his side as he and his family say a sad goodbye and face new obstacles in the days and weeks to come. Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Reader Word Count: 1900 Warnings: Death, angst, sadness. Lots of creative licensing, I’m sure. Square Filled: This entire series will fill my realized feelings square for @marvelfluffbingo. A/N: I’ve much enjoyed writing this series, and I hope all of you enjoy reading it! The tag list is open; requests to be added can be done so here. There are bits and pieces of Romanian throughout the series, mostly from Google Translate and the few things I’ve picked up as I learn the language. Happy Reading!

Dismal notes sounded together in morbid harmony throughout the church as funeral attendees greeted each other in the lobby. The people filed together toward the sanctuary, offering condolences to the family as they passed. Sebastian did his best to be cordial, but between his grief and looking out for the one other person he needed to be there, he feared he wasn’t doing so well interacting with the guests.

“Calma, Sebastian,” his mother soothed, rubbing a hand over his back before she went to accept the outstretched hand of another guest. “Y/N will be here. She said she will be here, she will be here.”

Sebastian nodded and gave the next person in line a tight, sad smile. He knew that Y/N would be there; she always was when he asked for her support. The unexpected circumstances of his life, however, made him anxious for her presence.

In the last few days, Sebastian had thought often of a song released sometime around his senior year of high school. The real troubles in life, the spoken-word song warned, are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind; the kind that blindside you at four P.M. on some idle Tuesday. The hour was earlier than four in the afternoon, but it was a Tuesday when he received the call telling him that his sister Irina had been involved in a fatal car accident on her way to work that morning. The doctors had been optimistic taking her into surgery, but her injuries were more extensive than the hospital staff had been able to read on x-rays and CT scans. While on the operating table, Irina’s heart stopped. The surgeon had been unable to restart the organ.

A pleasantly feminine, floral scent invaded his nostrils as soft fingers intertwined with his, pulling him from his thoughts. He looked to his side to see Y/N Y/L/N next to him. Her eyes met his, and she squeezed his hand.

“I’m so sorry I’m late, Seb. LaGuardia was a disaster.”

He leaned to kiss her cheek. “Don’t apologize. Thank you for coming. I’m not sure I could have done this without you.”

“Even if you could, I wouldn’t have let you,” she returned.

Finally, the last of the guests had filed into the sanctuary, and the family could take their places at the front. Sebastian’s mother stepped out of line to hug Y/N and thank her also for being there. Y/N replied in Romanian, something she had learned after becoming friends with Sebastian all those years ago. She wasn’t fluent, but she could comfortably hold a conversation.

“Trebuia să fiu aici.” She had to be there, not from a sense of obligation, but because she wanted to support Sebastian and his family in whatever way she could.

When they were all seated, Sebastian between his mother and Y/N, and his stepfather on the other side of his mother, the priest began the service. Sebastian hadn’t let go of Y/N’s hand since she had intertwined their fingers when she arrived. Occasionally, he would squeeze her hand, and she squeezed back every time. If he needed the reminder that she was there, then she would give it.

After the eulogy and the singing and the praying had all wrapped up, Sebastian stepped out of the pew with the other pallbearers to carry his sister’s casket to the church parking lot where the hearse was waiting to take her to the cemetery. He clenched his jaw in an effort to hold back the tears glazing over his eyes.

Y/N walked behind his mother and stepfather in the processional out of the sanctuary but hung back with the crowd when the walked to the car at the front of the line of cars. Georgeta turned and motioned for her to join.

“We know what you mean to my Sebastian,” the older woman assured. “Irina would want you with us as much as possible today.”

Y/N gave her a tight smile and followed the family into the black limousine. Sebastian joined them a couple of minutes later, sliding onto the seat beside her. He took her hand again.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he told her quietly as the driver pulled out of the church lot.

She nodded once. “Your mother said Irina would want it this way. I was going to ride with someone else, or take a cab.”

“No, you should be here with us. Mom’s right, Irina would want it this way. But I mean here. For the whole thing.”

She squeezed his hand and held his gaze. “Seb. There’s no way I wasn’t going to be here. I’m around as long as you need me to be, okay?”

He swallowed down the lump in his throat and kissed her forehead. Besides his mother and his sister, no woman was close to him like Y/N. They had become friends when they both had bit parts in the same movie, extremely early on in their careers. The friendship had clicked so easy, they kept in touch and grew closer as the years went on. The media had speculated for years that they were more than friends, but romance had never been a part of their relationship.

After the burial, the day was only partially over. Sebastian was ready to go home and rest, but there was a whole wake to get through yet. He hoped the gathering would pass quickly and maybe he wouldn’t be required to interact with too many people.

Guests were busy eating the well-catered food, which gave him the opportunity to visit more with his mother and stepfather. Y/N had gone to the bathroom to freshen up, giving his mother the opportunity to bring up an issue that she hadn’t wanted to stress her son over until they got through the burial.

“Irina and I talked once about what to do if something like this happened,” Georgeta began. “It was not long after the baby was born. She was supposed to get it in writing, make it all legal. But she was going to school, raising her daughter. She didn’t get it done. And now …”

Sebastian licked his lips and picked up his water glass. “Now it’s too late.”

Georgeta nodded. “She wanted you to take Milena.”

Some mechanism in the swallowing process malfunctioned when his mother made the announcement. He coughed and attempted to clear his throat without causing too much of a scene. He had all but recovered when Y/N returned to the table.

“Everything all right?” she asked, patting him a couple of times on the back. Nobody said anything. She raised her brow, waiting for Sebastian to come clean.

Before he could answer, the sound of little feet running in their direction put a halt to the conversation. A little girl in a black dress with curly pigtails was rushing towards them, her arms outstretched.

“Uncle Seb!”

“Milena!” Sebastian exclaimed, stepping out of his chair and swooping the toddler up into his arms. Her chubby little hands squeezed his face so that his lips puckered like a fish. Sebastian laughed and switched his hold to balance her on his hip. “I’m so glad you’re here, munchkin. I missed you.”

She leaned her head on his shoulder and whispered, “Miss you.”

Georgeta and Anthony greeted the little girl, but she refused to be held by anyone except Sebastian. Once her grandmother and grandfather were distracted in conversation by the woman who had brought Milena to the reception, the girl pointed to Y/N.

“Uncle Seb, who that is?”

Sebastian smiled and sat with Milena so that she could be closer to eye level with Y/N. “This is my very good friend, Y/N. You met her before, but you were a tiny baby, so you probably don’t remember.”

Y/N smiled kindly at the little girl. “Hello, Milena. Your Uncle Seb told me you were pretty. I like your dress — you look just like a princess.”

That was all it took to win the little girl over. She settled comfortably on Seb’s lap while they adults spoke, smiling often at Y/N and asking a couple questions here and there. Y/N was making faces in an effort to make Milena laugh, and distract her from the somewhat heated conversation that seemed to be erupting between the woman who had brought Milena, Sebastian, and his parents. When the voices really got loud, Y/N reached out to take Milena.

“Are you hungry, princess? We can see what snacks are left at the food table.”

Milena went willingly, walking hand in hand with Y/N, who winked at Sebastian over her shoulder as they walked away. He gave her a grateful smile and turned back to his parents and Milena’s paternal grandmother, Alice.

“I know that Connor didn’t want to part of Milena’s life,” Alice was saying, “but that doesn’t mean Tim and I don’t want to be. My son’s choices are his own. I think we should explore the option of joint custody.”

Anthony sighed. “We don’t want to keep Milena from you, certainly, but Irina’s wishes were for her to be with her uncle. My daughter was very clear on the matter. Since Connor signed his rights away when the baby was born, I think it best that we honor what her mother wanted for her.”

“I can give her a very good life,” Sebastian interjected, “and you can see her whenever you like. I live right here in the city.”

Alice pursed her lips. “And when you’re working? I know you can afford to give her a good life, but there’s more to raising a child than the financial component.”

Sebastian bit his tongue. He had a lot to say, but none of it was kind or productive. None of it was going to help his case. He leaned back in his chair, letting his parents take over from there. As he glanced around the room, he saw Y/N and Milena standing by the food table. Both of them were smiling, and Milena was pointing to all the different things she wanted to try. Y/N held the plate with two hands as she crouched down so that Milena could pick up a grape in one hand and a cube of cheese in the other. Milena took a bite of the cheese then grinned up at Y/N, wrinkling her little nose.

The scene comforted him in a way he didn’t think was possible up to that moment. As he continued to watch his best friend and his niece interact, the seed of an idea was planted in Sebastian’s mind. He immediately told himself he was being ridiculous, but the thought tugged at his heartstrings and pulled on one end of his mouth, almost evoking a smile.

Y/N locked eyes with him as she followed Milena back to the table, a silent warning that any arguments needed to come to a stop. As the conversation between Alice and his parents didn’t seem to be slowing down, Sebastian pushed out of his chair and approached them.

“How about I take my two favorite girls to the park across the street? I know a little girl who loves to swing,” Sebastian smiled.

Milena clapped her sticky hands and reached for Sebastian to pick her up. He obliged, and once she had set Milena’s plate of snacks on the table, Y/N followed them out to the park.

AllOfTheThings: @captain-s-rogers @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @hurricanerin @horsesandbandsforlife @im-not-an-armrest-im-short @captain-rogers-beard @shynara51 @sea040561 @pinknerdpanda @xtina2191 @jackryanplz @beakami @heartsaved @fullprunerebelstatesman @blackwidowismyhomegirl @averyrogers83 @jennmurawski13

IYJR: @elsatxx @tanelle83 @amanda-teaches @etherealwaifgoddess @kmuir1 @ntlmundy @jayankles @rebekahdawkins @denise1605 @rhadigen

#marvelfluffbingo2020 #sebastian stan #fanfiction #reader insert #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian x reader #fluff #angst #drama #tw: death #queue and i remember budapest very differently

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revolutionary-demosthenes · 4 years

Text

(I’m so sorry, I accidentally deleted this ask when I was trying to fix where I put the cut but here’s the image of it because I still had it open in another tab and I’ll just answer like normal. Sorry!!)

This is a great question! There are several reasons why some historians, most notably Gregory Massey, author of John Laurens and the American Revolution tend to paint the Laurens-Hamilton relationship in a more platonic light.

One of the main reasons is that in the 18th century, letters were simply much more romantic and poetic, even to close friends. Phrases and sentiments that now would be read as pretty darn romantic (Like “I love you”) were seen as acceptably platonic back then. So some of the letters between Laurens and Hamilton, particularly Laurens’s, would’ve been seen as acceptable and even normal for very close friends.

HOWEVER, there is a big problem with this argument of “it was just the language of the time” when it comes to Laurens and Hamilton.

While some of their correspondence would have been seen as reasonable for friends back then, some would NOT have been. And don’t just take that from me. Take it from John Church Hamilton. If you look at his biography of his father, you will see that much of the April 1779 letter is not included. Here’s a great rule of thumb: if someone from that time period saw it as sexual enough omit from a giant biography, that’s not “just how people wrote back then.”

The second main argument is an understandable one: Laurens had a wife when he met Hamilton, and Hamilton married Eliza while he and Laurens were still in their relationship. Which, if you don’t look closely at the circumstances around the marriages seems like a pretty good argument.

But let’s take a look at those circumstances, shall we?

John Laurens received a letter from Francis Kinloch (a probable male lover) around early May 1776, which happens to be nearly nine months before John’s child, Frances, was born. So his relations with Martha Manning, John’s eventual wife, could have possibly been to make John feel better about the break-up.

And it is extremely important to note the social pressure going on. Being openly gay was not an option. So courting Martha (they were friends/possibly courting before the baby,) could easily have been just trying to conform to social standards.

The marriage was also not about love, really. And John pretty much admitted this in a letter to his uncle. He wrote, “Pity has obliged me to marry.” This was because Martha was pregnant, and having a baby out of wedlock was extremely taboo. (I mean look at Hamilton, he had to deal with that stigma his whole life.)

If John really did love his wife, I also would think that he would have wanted to stay for his daughter’s birth. He left shortly before she was born, and once he was in America, put them pretty much out of his mind. There were plans to bring them to America, but it never worked out. And John seemed pretty content to just have them be in England. “The wife and child left behind in England seemingly occupied little space in John’s thoughts.” says John Laurens and the American Revolution by Gregory Massey.

But what about Hamilton? Didn’t he love Eliza Schuyler?

Yes. But just because Hamilton loved Eliza does not mean he didn’t love Laurens as well. And this is because of the simple fact that gay and straight are not the only sexualities. Hamilton loved a woman. Using this to argue he couldn’t have loved and been in a relationship with a man is both offensive and illogical.

But a more solid argument that historians use is that Hamilton did marry Eliza during his ‘friendship’ with Laurens. Why would he pursue Eliza if he loved Laurens in the same way?

Why, I am delighted you asked!

Firstly, Hamilton was probably polyamorus, meaning that he wanted and had no trouble having relationships with multiple people. In other words, marrying Eliza did not mean that he would stop loving Laurens. He had room in his heart to love both in a romantic/sexual way.

The way Hamilton writes to Laurens about his engagement and marriage is also indicative of his trying to make clear to Laurens that even though he was getting married, he and Laurens could continue to be lovers. He told Laurens, “In spite of Schuyler’s black eyes, I have still a part for the public and another for you.” That Hamilton is stating that his love for his soon-to-be-wife would not interfere with the bond he and Laurens shared seems to be a pretty clear “I’m not going to break up with you because of my wife don’t worry.” He also talks of Eliza in a slightly cold way at first, saying that, “She is a good hearted girl who I am sure will never play the termagant; though not a genius she has good sense enough to be agreeable, and though not a beauty, she has fine black eyes—is rather handsome and has every other requisite of the exterior to make a lover happy. And believe me, I am lover in earnest, though I do not speak of the perfections of my Mistress in the enthusiasm of Chivalry.”

This is in quite a contrast to his gushy letter to Eliza about how “Neither time distance nor any other circumstance can abate that pure that holy that ardent flame which burns in my bosom for the best and sweetest of her sex.”

And then there is the next letter where Hamilton mentions his upcoming marriage.

The threesome letter.

So. Hamilton writes to Laurens on Sep. 16, 1780, “I would invite you after the fall to Albany to be witness to the final consummation. My Mistress is a good girl, and already loves you because I have told her you are a clever fellow and my friend; but mind, she loves you a l’americaine not a la françoise.”

The final consummation refers to the first time having sex after marriage. Hamilton is inviting Laurens to this event.

Anyway, this again reads to me like Hamilton saying to Laurens that the two relationships, (him and Eliza, and him and Laurens) were not exclusive. Even maybe that he believed they would work together well.

And then of course there is the truth that having a same-sex relationship in the 18th century was simply a very difficult thing to do. Hamilton and Laurens either had to keep it an absolute secret, or blindly trust that the people who did know would keep it secret. And it would have been emotionally tolling to keep this huge part of their lives a secret.

And that is all true. But that also doesn’t erase the evidence of their romance. It was hard to be in a same-sex relationship in the 18th century, but that doesn’t mean Hamilton didn’t write the April 1779 letter. That doesn’t mean Laurens didn’t tell Hamilton about his wife... ever! (Hamilton did find out, though. But not for more than a year.) That doesn’t mean that Hamilton didn’t invite Laurens to “the final consummation.”

Then there’s the problem that queer history just wasn’t written about in older biographies, which are sources usually used by current biographers. So you have to go to the primary sources, like the letters. And once you find the primary sources, you have to do extra analysis, because in the 18th century Hamilton couldn’t have just said, “John Laurens, I love you so much. I love you like I love my wife, and do you remember how awesome the nights we spent in the same bed were?” It was all carefully disguised, under the pretense of “brawdy humor” and “sentimental language.” Plus, letters that may have contained more explicit things are missing/destroyed. Many argue that “it was the language of the time” without considering that it was extremely dangerous to write things unacceptable for the language of the time.

But also there is a sort of double standard that is used. And I’m going to use the example of Angelica Schuyler and Hamilton here. Angelica and Hamilton definitely had a flirtatious relationship, but I find it hard to imagine Angelica seriously going after him, since she and her sister had a close bond. And yet many people accept that they loved each other romantically— emphasized in the musical Hamilton, wherein a lot of time is spent on an errant comma in a letter, and no time is spent on Hamilton bragging about his ‘nose’ in a letter to John Laurens. (I know I defend the musical a lot, but this is something that bugs me.) So the point is, it takes very little evidence to be able to claim “love” for possible straight relationships but takes nearly absolute confirmation for a queer relationship to be considered at all.

There’s also possible homophobia from the writer of the history. This isn’t to say everyone who thinks Hamilton/Laurens were straight is a homophobe, not at all. But if someone has prejudices against LGBTQ+ people, they might just not consider the the relationship could have been romantic... it might not be something they’re tuned into as a valid part of history.

There are others I’m probably forgetting so if anyone wants to add please do. But I think this covers most of the main reasons.

Thank you for the great question, it is always important to look at the other side of the issue! I hope this helped you.

(And no, no one’s asked this before!)

#ask #not anon #John Laurens #Alexander Hamilton #Martha Manning #Francis Kinloch #I guess I mention him #history #queer history #I'm sorry about accidentally deleting the ask #Angelica Schuyler #letters #Eliza Hamilton

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gay-jesus-probably · 3 years

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Bisexuality didn't "feel right" as a label because you're biphobic and will do anything to distance yourself from bisexuality. Get well soon, the bi community will be here when you're ready.

Are you the raging homophobe anon back for round two or a new guy? ...It doesn’t really matter, you people are all the same.

If you are the same anon, then now I’m extra pissed off at you because do you have any idea how difficult it is to make fun of your messages? You’re making this really hard for me. First you send a five word ask declaring me a homophobe with no details, and it took a lot of thinking to come up with a vaguely funny response to such a lackluster prompt. You’re a really bad improv partner.

And now you send me this shit. Sorry everybody, no jokes today, now I’m actually just fucking furious.

Let me tell you a story, anon. When I was an innocent little twelve year old back in the far of reaches of 2011, I first discovered Tumblr, and soon enough I was learning about different genders and sexualities, and began exploring my own identity. As you already know since you’re sarcastically quoting me talking about my own fucking feelings, I’d been having a minor sexuality crisis for several years at that point, since gay, straight and bisexual were the only label I’d known before then, and none of them fit me. Despite me trying all of them. Multiple times. You condescending piece of shit.All this was resolved by me stumbling across a post defining pansexuality, and that being the first and only sexual identity that’s ever actually felt right for me. It clicked instantly, and has continued to be my sexuality for literally a decade now.

But back when I first started entering the queer community, pansexuality was actually pretty controversial. So was bisexuality. The two were just lumped together actually, because according to the exclusionists back then, bi/pan people are attracted to the opposite sex, and therefor are basically just straight. Actually they rarely cared enough to bother differentiating between bisexual and pansexual people, they just lumped us all in together as a bunch of heteros pretending to be gay for attention and oppressing the real gays. What a bunch of special fucking snowflakes, pretending to be gay for attention. So there I was, a twelve year old queer kid with a brand new identity, being welcomed by a bunch of exclusionists angrily yelling about how I was definitely just a hetero faking it for attention, and being pansexual was Wrong and Bad. But it was okay, because the exclusionists knew better than me. They knew how I really felt, and what my real identity was. They could fix me. I just had to agree with everything they said and become the person they decided I was supposed to be.

I didn’t do that.

Let’s jump forward a few years. I was older, and still perfectly confident in my identity as a pansexual. I hadn’t considered any other parts of my identity. Why would I? I just never really thought much about gender. Then shortly after my fourteenth birthday, I watched a short film online about a trans boy figuring out his identity and working up the courage to come out to his mother. I don’t remember what it was called or most of the details. All I remember was the last scene where the boy and his mother got into an argument about him not feminine enough, which ended with him screaming that he wasn’t a girl. And then I unexpectedly burst into tears because neither was I.

So that was a fun surprise. Once I pulled through that unexpected sobbing breakdown in the middle of the night and re-evaluated my entire life, I realized that yeah. I really wasn’t a girl. I wasn’t a boy either. Fortunately by then I knew that nonbinary people were a thing, so I had plenty of options. I spent awhile feeling things out and experimenting with different labels and pronouns before finally settling on agender and they/them pronouns. Which was great! I felt better than ever, and was confident that I had my identity down and everything would be fine. But everything was not fine. Because I’d been so happy about the biphobia dying down that I hadn’t quite noticed the exclusionists switching targets. Now the nonbinary people were lying. What a bunch of special fucking snowflakes, pretending to be queer for attention. The ones who wanted to medically transition were declared to actually be poor confused trans people who couldn’t get over their internalized transphobia to accept their True Identities. And the rest of us... well, we were just a bunch of cishet special snowflakes playing at being trans for attention, and oppressing the real trans people. I wasn’t agender. I was a cis girl making up fake identities for attention, and calling myself nonbinary was Wrong and Bad. But it was okay, because the exclusionists knew better than me. They knew how I really felt, and what my real identity was. They could fix me. I just had to agree with everything they said and become the person they decided I was supposed to be.

I didn’t do that.

Step forward a few more years, now to eighteen year old me. There’s no dramatic revelations or long struggles this time, just a slow realization. Because I’d been single for years, and I wasn’t bothered by that. I actually enjoyed it. Marriage didn’t sound very appealing. Neither did dating. I’d dated people before, but I wasn’t sure if I actually wanted to; it was just... the thing I was supposed to do. I found people attractive, sure. But I hadn’t wanted to flirt with anyone. Actually, now that I was thinking about it, had I ever felt romantically attracted to anyone? I didn’t even want romance in fiction! So I experimented. Went on some dates just in case age made it more appealing (it didn’t). Began calling myself aromantic, and was pleasantly surprised to find that the longer I used it, the better it felt. It was right.

But once again, the exclusionists were back and even angier than ever. Because now aphobia was in full swing. After all, asexuality wasn’t really queer. It’s just not having sex! It’s basically straight! What a bunch of special fucking snowflakes, pretending to be queer for attention. And the aromantics, oh the aromantics who weren’t asexual were even worse. Because everyone knows that love is what makes us human. How could someone not feel romance? Us aro people weren’t just lying about our identities, we were pretending to not have feelings so that we could get away with using people for sex without commitment. Being aro meant I was an abusive sex crazed monster taking advantage of all the poor innocent allo’s. I wasn’t aromantic. I was a sexual predator making up a fake identity to take advantage of people, and even though I wasn’t actually sleeping around calling myself aro was Bad and Wrong. But it was okay, because the exclusionists knew better than me. They knew how I really felt, and what my real identity was. They could fix me. I just had to agree with everything they said and become the person they decided I was supposed to be.

And I didn’t fucking do that.

Look. I’ve been here for a very long time, and I have dealt with so many versions of exclusionist bullshit. Every aspect of my identity has been met with random fucking strangers online smugly informing me that I was wrong about myself and they were right. And that’s just the ones that wanted me to pretend to be something else; about half of the exclusionists didn’t make any attempts at conversion therapy, and instead skipped straight to suicide baiting. I’m not even getting into the actual homophobes I’ve had to deal with, or the TERF’s that have come after me under the assumption that I’m a trans woman. My point is, I’m pretty fucking used to this sort of thing.

This just hurts a little more, because like I said earlier, the first round of exclusionism I faced was just expanded biphobia. And the bi/pan community banded together in the face of that. We weren’t the exact same identities, but we were being treated the same, and we were similar enough that nobody really minded the difference. It was wonderful. Bi and pan people were a tightly knit group, and that was a sense of community I desperately needed when I was young. I’ve been seeing this coming for awhile. There’s been increasing amounts of bi people getting drawn in by exclusionist bullshit, and I’ve seen anti-pansexual sentiment growing. I just... really hoped it wouldn’t get this far. It’s sad, y’know? It feels like losing an old friend. I’m really disappointed that you think trying to force people out of their community is right. It’s fucking pathetic, and I hope that someday you’ll rediscover basic compassion and realize how much damage you’re doing to yourself and others. This sort of thing doesn’t help the bisexual community. It drives people away. It’s like the damage that TERF’s have done to the lesbian community; this sort of thing poisons the whole well. I hope you re-evaluate what you’re doing and find a more healthy mindset.

...But also at the same time: Who the fuck do you think you are? Take your condescending bullshit and shove it directly up your ass you fucking waste of oxygen. How the fuck dare you. Do you realize the fucking audacity it takes to claim to know someone's identity better than they do? You self centered egotistical douchebag. Your parents should feel ashamed for having raised such an utter failure of a human being. I’d tell you to go fuck yourself, but I can already tell you beat off twice a day to how fucking clever you think you are. If you ever darken my inbox again you’d better be damn sure you keep it anonymous, because if I find you I’ll kick your fucking teeth in, you smug piece of shit.

#i spent like two hours on this lmaoooo #no regrets tho this is some damn fine writing

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winryofresembool · 3 years

Text

Things We Lost in the Fire, ch 33

aka Caleo uni au

Fic summary: Calypso starts studying at a new university, but to her annoyance her new flatmate is a loud mouthed mechanic who also likes to sneak his dog in whenever. But as she learns to know him better, she realizes they might have more in common than what she first thought. Eventually, even the darkest secrets come out…

Chapter summary: What happens after Leo returns? (At Waystation, pt 1234)

A/N: What is this? A new chapter? I know I probably apologize too much but still, sorry for the long wait! Writer's block is not fun, you guys. It seems that I'm getting more and more insecure about where I should take this story by each chapter, but I did get a couple of encouraging comments while I was writing it and they motivated me to keep going! Extra special shoutout to my bff Cris(sy) for both recommending me the song that eventually helped this chapter to be born, and also helping me edit yesterday because I certainly wouldn't be posting this right now without you. (((((((((huug))))))))))

Disclaimer: The song New Year's Day obviously belongs to Taylor Swift and I definitely recommend listening to it while reading this chapter (specifically the scene where it's mentioned).

Words: 3300+

Genre: romance & hurt/comfort

Warnings: none

previous chapter / AO3

…

Leo stayed at the park for a while longer, but eventually he knew he had to return to Waystation. The talk with Piper had made him feel a bit better, but he was still worried about how Calypso would react to his meltdown. In his opinion, she had every right to be mad. He would have to explain his behavior, but how? That was the big question.

It was already well past noon when Leo showed up at Waystation again. The building was surprisingly quiet when he entered, hoping the others were looking for him. Usually Georgina was all over the place around this time, sugar high from the chocolate she had eaten and making a mess with her new presents. Luckily, once he had removed his coat and his hat, he started hearing some clunking from the kitchen, indicating someone was there.

Instead of just bursting into the kitchen and announcing that he had returned, he stopped to watch by the doorway. Only Calypso and Georgina were in there, the younger girl chatting enthusiastically while the older one was instructing her with baking. They were standing with their backs towards the door so they couldn’t see Leo. The smell that was coming from the oven somehow felt very familiar… something he associated with Calypso. It wasn’t until she bowed down to take something out of the oven that he realized what it was. The cookies smelled the same as the cake Calypso had baked a few times at their flat, and the shampoo she used: cinnamon-y.

“Look, Georgina!” Calypso showed her the cookies. “These ended up pretty good.” It sounded like she was hesitating a bit before she continued: “Hopefully your brother will like them as well.”

“Oh, he will, Calie! He’d probably like anything you do!” Georgina noted in the straightforward style she was used to.

“But I didn’t make these alone,” Calypso reminded her. “I had a good helper.” She put the oven pan on the table and reached to ruffle the top of Georgina’s hair a bit.

“Where do you think he went, anyway?” Georgina asked. Leo wasn’t sure if he just imagined it but to him she sounded pretty worried. “I’ve not seen him that way often…”

Calypso sounded pretty cautious when she answered. “I’m sure he will be back soon. He must be tired because he’s been working a lot lately and that’s why he’s a bit on the edge… but he wouldn’t want to miss your gingerbread cookies. Hey, what color should we use to decorate these?” She turned Georgina’s focus back to the cookies again. “Do you think pink would be cute?”

“No, I want all the different colors! Blue, red, purple, green, yellow…” Georgina started listing all the colors that she could remember.

“I don’t think we have that many food color bottles here,” Calypso pointed out with amusement. “But you know, we can try to mix some together!”

“That sounds great! Hey, is pink your favorite color?” The girl asked suddenly.

“Hah, what gives me away?” Calypso chuckled. Even the apron she was currently wearing happened to be pink, although Leo knew that was probably purely coincidental because she was using one of Emmie’s aprons.

“You’re always wearing something pink and you even wanted pink gingerbread cookies,” Georgina noted while she started mixing the sugar frosting very eagerly.

“You’re a smart one, aren’t you?” Calypso teased. “I do really like pink, though. I don’t know. Maybe it reminds me of the sunsets back in my childhood home… But lately I’ve noticed that I have quite a lot of red things in my wardrobe too. But what about you? What’s your favorite color?”

Georgina gave Calypso a long and colorful answer, which Leo only half listened to. He started thinking about Calypso’s statement. He wasn’t completely dense; he had noticed that Calypso had often picked those outfits that he may have complimented at some point. But could it be that she had even started using more red because of him? Nah, he shook his head, that was a selfish way of thinking. Her outfit choices were probably purely coincidental.

Suddenly Leo realized that he had been standing there eavesdropping the girls way too long. When he was about to leave, though, he heard Georgina say: “my moms try to hide it from me, but I know that Leo is not OK. I mean, maybe he is, sometimes… but I remember that last Christmas was a lot like this one.”

“What do you mean?” Calypso asked.

“He didn’t yell at anyone, but… when he is in a bad mood he either shuts down and avoids us or is even louder than usual. But between the jokes, he doesn’t look happy at all. Moms would probably say ‘Georgie, you’re too small to understand that stuff’, but I’m not a baby anymore. This one golden haired dude visits us sometimes and he knows a lot about health things and he’s been teaching me as well. I know sometimes people get depressed, if for example something really bad has happened to them. And I think something very bad happened to big bro before he came here.”

“Yeah… sometimes things like that happen, sadly… But you know what?” Calypso said, probably attempting to sound more cheerful. “I think your brother is really trying. He cares about you so much he puts your happiness before his. He doesn’t want you to worry about him. But he’s strong, just like you, right? He’ll pull through.”

At this point Leo felt he had heard enough. He had been expecting some talk about him; after all he had just caused a scene in the middle of the present opening. But to hear Calypso talk about him that way? So sweetly? That he hadn’t expected. He had imagined she’d be mad at him after the ‘incident’ of that morning. Maybe she was just trying to be nice simply to calm Georgina down, but that he would never know.

He slowly started backing up, so that the girls wouldn’t notice his presence. However, just when he was nearly by the stairway, his foot hit a box that someone had left on the floor, making a loud noise. Cursing himself in his head, he quickly looked up to see that the sound had piqued the girls’ interest and they both tried to see where it had come from. He hid upstairs as quickly as he could, but that didn’t change the fact that Calypso most likely knew he had been listening to them.

Great, he thought, as he closed his bedroom door behind him. As if things hadn’t already been awkward enough even before this…

… (Calypso POV)

Once she was done with baking with Georgina, Calypso withdrew into her guest room for some ‘me’ time. She had a lot to think about. Leo hadn’t been around for the lunch, which meant that the Waystation group had been unusually quiet while finishing their meals. She knew everyone must have been thinking about him, but no one dared to bring him up. After the lunch, Georgina had asked Calypso to bake with her and she had agreed, welcoming the distraction. But Leo still hadn’t returned so she had started playing with the idea that she wouldn’t listen to Jo and Emmie’s advice, instead going to look for him after cleaning the kitchen. Before she had gotten that far, though, she had heard him in the hallway, but he had disappeared from there before she had time to even properly see him. However, she knew it couldn’t have been anyone else.

While she was relieved that he had finally come back, one part of her was also kind of mad that he had been eavesdropping and hadn’t even told them that he had returned. She was pretty close to just marching into his room and letting him hear it, but eventually she decided she wasn’t quite ready for that talk yet. If only there was some machine that would allow them to exchange their thoughts without the actual confrontation… But that was a naive thought, Calypso knew.

Finally, she decided that dwelling on the issues the whole day wouldn’t help anything. Since the Waystation family would get some Christmas guests for the evening, she decided that she should probably change out of her baking attire (a simple t-shirt and sweatpants) that had gotten a bit floury despite the apron that had covered it. Thankful for having taken several outfits from her flat (see, Leo, they were useful for something after all, she thought), she was drawn between blue jeans and a white blouse and a pretty 50ies style red dress she had only recently sewn for herself. It had sleeves that reached her elbows, a ribbon around the waist and a v-shaped neckline. Calypso wondered if the dress was a bit ‘too much’ for a family dinner but she liked how it had ended up looking and felt pretty confident in it. That’s why she ended up picking it instead of the more casual option. Besides, a tiny voice said in Calypso’s head, it didn’t hurt that Leo liked that color...

Tying her hair into a small braid pun and adding a ribbon around it, she was finally happy with her look. Then her gaze fell into the silver bracelet Leo had given to her that was still around her wrist. Briefly, she wondered how he’d feel about seeing it after their earlier incident, but she decided to leave it on. She had kind of expected Leo to give her something silly, like a CD of him singing Never Gonna Give You Up or chili seeds as a joke, but the jewelry box and the bracelet had been very thoughtful. Leo really knew how to surprise her – in a good way – sometimes…

Realizing that she had already been spending over an hour in her guest room, Calypso decided it was time to go back to socialize with her hosts. She heard Georgina’s voice coming from the living room and decided to go check up on her. The young girl was sitting by the piano, singing one of those more modern Christmas songs that she herself wasn’t crazy about, but somehow it sounded a lot more bearable when Georgina performed it. But what really surprised Calypso was Georgina’s pianist. Leo was sitting there next to his adoptive sister and focusing on running his fingers on the instrument. For some reason she hadn’t expected him to be musical and especially not interested in playing Christmas songs (Calypso knew he was more of a rock ‘n roll type of guy). She wasn’t sure what to think of this discovery.

Calypso had always loved music and she had even attempted to learn to play the piano with the help of a nanny for a little while, but when her dad had discovered what they did, he had immediately told them to stop. To this day, Calypso couldn’t understand why; she just assumed that maybe her beloved father hadn’t wanted her to learn something so ‘useless’. Thankfully, her voice wasn’t something her father could take from her so she had kept singing mostly out of spite, and became pretty good. Now she began wondering if Leo would ever mind teaching her to play… that was, if they were able to have a normal conversation again.

Georgina’s song ended and Calypso stepped forward to let the others know she was there, applauding the girl.

“That sounded good!” She encouraged her. “I’m not a fan of Christmas songs but you did well.”

“Thanks, Calie!” Georgina beamed at her. “Leo has told me you can sing too. Can I hear some? Please? Leo can play!”

“I… uh… wasn’t expecting to see you here.” Calypso turned to Leo. “Since when have you been playing the piano?”

Leo ignored Calypso’s first remark and replied: “Since I was a kid. Yeah, I bet you thought I’m more like a drum person or something but it was my mom’s idea I’d try this. Well? Are you gonna sing something?” He asked when Calypso remained quiet.

“I don’t really know that many Christmas songs…” she replied hesitantly. “Georgie, do you have any suggestions?”

“I love Taylor Swift’s songs!” the 9-year-old announced. “Do you know any of them?”

Calypso nearly burst out laughing. “Of course I do! She’s one of my favorite artists. But I thought we were going to sing Christmas songs.”

“Nah, I think I’ve already had enough of them,” Georgina stated. “But TS has made some holiday themed songs as well. Like New Year’s Day. I have the piano sheet for it!” The girl showed her a book she had borrowed from the library.

“You’re a real Swiftie, huh?” Calypso couldn’t help but smile at the girl’s enthusiasm. “But fine, I actually quite like that song so I could sing it.”

Leo had been following the conversation quietly but now he took the book from Georgina and eyed the sheet.

“Let me practice a little; I haven’t even heard this song before so I have no idea how to play it.”

“Sure, take your time,” Calypso said carefully. She was relieved to see that Leo was acting that calmly now despite the morning’s incident but she couldn’t help but wonder if that was just the surface. Surely he couldn’t have just completely forgotten about it? She would have to bring it up at some point, but now was not the time. Even when she attempted to read the lyrics her thoughts kept going back to him.

She was so lost in her thoughts that Leo had to raise his voice before she noticed he had stopped playing. “Hey, did you hear me? I asked if you’re ready.”

“What?” she shook her head. “Sorry. I was just wondering something. But yes, I’m ready now.”

Calypso noticed that Georgina kept looking at them curiously, but for once she didn’t say anything.

“Good. Let’s go,” Leo said in a neutral tone.

As she started singing, the lyrics started sinking into her differently than before. Suddenly she felt like she was the narrator, singing about the aftermath of a party she had attended. Even though Calypso wasn’t big on parties, and the latest one she had been in – the Halloween one – hadn’t gone ideally, when she kept picturing herself among her friends that she had gained during her time in Indianapolis, smiling, carrying their shoes because their feet hurt from the dancing, she felt… happy. Adding to that the image of spending time with Leo cleaning up their home while he made his snarky comments and probably tried to sabotage her cleaning process, she felt warm in a way she hadn’t expected. However, she tried to stop that track of thoughts because she realized what it implied. The narrator of the song was singing about her significant other, and Calypso had decided a long time ago that she shouldn’t get one.

As Leo kept playing, Calypso tried to keep her focus on his fingers running on the keys. For a while it worked; Calypso was amazed by how fast they could move, but then again, she supposed that all those years of building things with his hands really helped him develop that skill. Calypso could spot some stains on his hands from the machines he had handled that would barely leave even with soap, and the under nail area could definitely have used some proper scrubbing, but he wouldn’t have been Leo without those things. She couldn’t imagine him not fiddling with something 24/7. That was one of the reasons she admired him; she valued hard work pretty high and couldn’t imagine being with someone who was just sitting still.

”But I stay when you're lost and I'm scared and you're turning away…”

When Calypso reached that part, she felt chills go down her spine because of how well that line described her and Leo’s current situation. He felt lost because of some past traumas. She was scared of both letting him too close and losing him and everything she had gained since that fall. He had turned away from her and his family already twice that day. But there was hope; maybe, if they managed to finally communicate properly, they’d find a way to even deal with the ‘midnights’.

“Hold on to your memories, they will hold on to you.”

Calypso stopped to think about that line. At first her thoughts went to the badmemories such as the times when she had been living with her father. But when she repeated the line, she understood the song was talking about the good memories that would carry you even in your worst moments. Before she knew it, she was filled with flashbacks. Yelling at Leo after Festus broke her desk. The weird warm feeling after she saw the fixed desk. Casually spending time together; cooking, cleaning, playing, watching shows together… That time when Leo had given her the seeds of her favorite flower… The ‘therapy’ sessions… The Halloween party and the almost kiss after that… the weird tension they’d been having ever since that moment… His smiles and laughs… No matter what would happen, she would always hold those memories close to her heart.

Suddenly, Calypso knew. This wasn’t just some infatuation that would go away with time. She had learned to appreciate Leo’s company more and more, the good and the bad sides, to the point that she was now in love with him. Back in August she had thought that they would probably never get along, but to her surprise they had more in common than she had expected and he had become a big part of her life. Lonely, unsure about their futures, past traumas… that’s what tied them together. And even if she wanted to, she wouldn’t be able to deny that what she had been afraid of had already happened.

“And I will hold onto you.”

Those five simple words made Calypso’s voice crack. With frustration she swept the corner of her eyes quickly and attempted to clear her voice for the last lines of the song.

“Please don’t ever become a stranger whose laugh I could recognize anywhere.”

She looked up from the lyrics with blurry eyes and glanced at the boy with the piano. Some months ago, she had told herself that she wouldn’t let anyone get too close to her. But somehow Leo and all her new friends had just snuck into it, and she couldn’t imagine her life without them. She wanted them to be a permanent part of it, but with so many uncertainties in the future, could she count on it?

“What’s the matter, Cal?” Leo asked when she very clearly had difficulties pronouncing the last few words of the song.

Calypso knew the words she was going to say were probably unfair, but she couldn’t stop herself. The frustrations of that day just demanded to get out. “What’s the matter, Cal?” she mocked him. “I don’t know, Leo. You just… freak out all of a sudden and run away and then you come back and act like nothing happened?! Don’t you understand at all how worried we all are about you?!”

“I…” Leo stammered but didn’t finish his sentence.

“Well? Are you gonna explain yourself?” Calypso asked.

“Listen, you need to understand…”

“Understand what, Leo?”

Calypso waited for a little longer, but when the answer never came, she said: “You know what? Never mind. Clearly I was a fool to think that you care about us… about me the same way I care about you.”

“Calypso…”

Calypso turned her back to him and muttered: “I’m going to see if Jo and Emmie need my help with something. Do not follow me.”

In reality, Calypso withdrew into the closest bathroom and finally let the tears come.

#caleo #leo valdez #calypso #heroes of olympus #percy jackson and the olympians #trials of apollo #my fics #caleo uni au

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unholyplumpprincess · 3 years

Text

Winner Winner Porkchop Dinner

Cryptage commission for @trashyoctopus !

Summary: Crypto and Mirage are set up on a blind date, with neither knowing that it was each other. Rivalry COULD have gotten in the way, if Elliott wasn’t too fucking pretty for his own good.

(Older content)

Reblogs > Likes. It costs zero dollars to reblog the fics you like :D Minors and ageless blogs DNI or you will be blocked!

Relationship: Crypto/Mirage

Fandom: Apex legends

Warnings: R18+/NSFT, both Crypto and Mirage are cis, anal sex/fingering, Crypto being a bottom baby, tears, overstimulation, fucking on the floor

Words: 3.2K

_______________

Dating for legends was rather difficult. In a world that saw you as stars, people could become rather obsessive. Crypto was no stranger to the ‘starstruck’ vision upon seeing a legend. He had been one of the people who had set up the drones to broadcast them all fighting, after all. It was no different to him to pick and choose favorites.

Except now he WAS a legend. Walked among them the same way they walked with him. Partners or rivals, it didn’t matter.

Dating, again, for legends was rather difficult- and yet, Elliott Witt, better known as ‘Mirage’, famous trickster of the arena. Well, he got along just fine.

Or so he had made it seem.

~Rest under the cut~

Elliott talked a big game. Had a big mouth, for that matter. Talked about both men and women he could charm, even those who fit neither category. Last, of which, he boasted whilst making finger gun motions at Bloodhound who had waved him off with a ‘shoo’ motion as if he was a horny dog.

Something Crypto thought to be rather amusing when the flirty legend had pouted in response.

Being among them all, he’s learned they’re all much like a family. Romance could blossom between specific people within their circle, he’d seen it himself with Wraith eyeing Anita from across a room. Only to look away the second the woman’s eyes looked back at him and he’d pretended he’d never seen her looking.

Because loving while being part of this bloodied sport wasn’t an option. To stay available and don’t let feelings get in the way of how brutally they could kill each other. Only to wake up again like it never happened, except now you hold a grudge in your heart for the pain one caused you.

All for sport- entertainment.

Yet, the sponsors seemed to go crazy if they could see one of the legends being soft. The media loved it too. When someone like Wraith had seen her teammate, Bangalore, get knocked- normally she wouldn’t have thought twice about gunning down those around her and going back for the beacon. However, you could see her hesitate, flick her head back and run for her downed squad mate with an open portal to safety.

This is when Crypto truly began to get interested. Media where he was from- if someone was that popular, they would have been KILLED for daring to date someone. It wouldn’t have made them ‘available’ for minds all around. But, it seemed media across all planets alike delighted in the idea of love blossoming in war.

He’d watched it himself online. Different articles popping online. How Wraith would huff and throw a magazine across the legends’ lounge room or toss it at Elliott who’d playfully tease her about it.

It affected legends as well.

And when he’d picked up the magazine and looked at the headline, with a still of Wraith and Anita making eye contact whilst picking one another up, with the words ‘LOVE IN KINGS CANYON?’?

Well. Maybe he wouldn’t mind it if something like this affected him either.

It’s why he agrees to this stupid blind date thing. A mutual of his, someone he didn’t quite trust but she was at least a nice enough person, had a brilliant idea of a blind date. Said she knew someone who was JUST his type. There was no need for awkward ‘do you like girls or boys?’ conversations to happen, thankfully he knew it was at least a man he was meeting.

Crypto could only feel anxiety when he woke up that morning. Twisting in his stomach about who they could be. What did they look like? Would they mind if he was a quiet person? Would they worry and fret too much over him not talking the whole time? Would they be funny? Would they have curly hair- long hair- were they kind?

So many questions.

The unknown made him paranoid.

The woman leads him to a nice café. Crypto, for the date, adorned an oversized black hoodie that’s left unzipped, a lower black face mask with a filter on it, a low cut white shirt and ripped black skinny jeans. He felt more punk than anything, but it was casual for a setting like this. Except, perhaps, all of the jewelry he wore around his neck.

She guides him to the back to sit down, a nice little area while she excitedly chirps that she’ll be right back with his date.

Crypto’s on edge the entire three minutes and twenty two seconds she is gone. Fussing with a little fidget toy in his pocket to keep a hand busy and keeping his other resting on the table in case he needed to jab at someone.

Prepared, not paranoid.

The chatter of the café is quiet. The music is soft, and yet his shoulders are taut.

But then he sees her walking back over, someone behind her, taller, curly hair-

“Oh! Hey, buddy!” Comes from the man as he comes padding over excitedly like a dog, sitting in front of Crypto with a big, dimpled smile on his face.

Elliott Witt.

No fucking way.

Crypto’s eyes widen, and he looks up at their mutual friend who passes him a wink and a, “Have fun, boys!” Before she’s off.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Elliott continues with a bit of a laugh exhaling from him. Fiddling with his hands uncharacteristically in his lap. Nervous, it appeared, as Crypto’s eyes smooth over his frame. “S-so ya’ like coffee? No- no it was tea, right? I can order for us! Er, Wraith was saying sometimes you come out at night and make tea?” Definitely nervous.

He cleaned up well enough without wearing his sponsors or his gear for that matter. A v neckline on a black t-shirt that was form hugging, a yellow and black printed flannel with the sleeves rolled up just above his elbows to show strong, hairy forearms. Form fitting black jeans hugged him just as well and his hair was styled to the side. Curls looking washed and fresh with their fluffy texture.

He cleaned up extremely well.

Elliott is fussing again, nervously displaying his hands out on the table as he fusses with his hands. Crypto can’t help but think it’s kind of...endearing.

They’d been rivals on the battlefield ever since their first match together. Mark on the scoreboard, he supposed that may have been his fault for counting and rubbing it in Elliott’s face. But...

“Tea would be nice.” He finally speaks up, cutting Elliott off as he pulls his mask down to rest around his neck so he could prepare.

He watches Elliott’s eyes light up like an excited dog’s, nodding his head quickly as his curls move with the motions. “Yeah! Y-yeah, yeah of course, gimme a sec. Preference?”

And that’s how they spent that afternoon. Not as legends, or as rivals. But as two people set up on a blind date and enjoying one another’s company. Even laughed when Elliott had sputtered and quietly shout-whispered the question of ‘YOU HAVE A TONGUE PIERCING?!’ when Crypto had stuck his tongue out.

Crypto hated to admit it. But he had a great time.

And then an even better time the time after that, and then the next. Aaaand another.

Until the new headlines were now saying ‘LOVE BLOSSOMING IN NEW “MELTDOWN” ARENA?’ with their faces on it.

Their relationship was under wraps. No one knew, no one was allowed to know in full, but the media could speculate. That much Elliott allowed. Little teases to the public whilst Crypto preferred not to do interviews.

Their relationship blossoms from there. They become close- turns out they both had missing family members. Crypto opens up about his sister, Mila. While Elliott opens up about his brothers. He speculates they may have passed in war, but that he holds out hope. While Crypto opens up that he worries that she was killed, and that if she wasn’t, that she was not in agony.

There, they build their foundation on. Trust and love. Opening up to each other slowly. Elliott is much easier to open up about himself and his interests, Crypto is harder. He doesn’t talk anymore on his past from his sister or his mother, only bits and pieces. He allows Elliott into his life slowly, more and more until one another cannot stand to sleep alone.

Wraith teases Elliott nowadays on who is making goo-goo eyes now. Crypto over hears it through the walls and tries not to smile at their antics.

It’s in the ring they have to be more mindful. After the first guess of their relationship, Crypto had to explain to Elliott that though his partner may have loved the cameras, Crypto did not. The attention became too much, and Elliott immediately made that all die down. With his charming smile and a joke about how if he had chosen someone to settle down with, don’t you think he’d be all over them?

Oh, he was all over them. Crypto couldn’t go a day without hands jerking him close. Even if at first he had rolled his eyes and huffed at it, Elliott quickly found out that this tough cookie was just giving him a rough time. Especially when Crypto would give up the ruse and lean back into him.

No, it’s in the ring they have to be careful. Otherwise, anywhere else? Free game. Other legends could shut their lips.

Hence why this match was going rather roughly.

Mirage, Crypto, and Lifeline all on the same squad. Ajay makes a joke about ‘old times’ and how they should keep score again. Playfully bumping Crypto’s hip with her own and earning her a bit of a smirk before it’s turned to Elliott with a cocky look and a soft hum of, “I am sure that the old man has learned his lesson.”

Which earns him wide eyes, a gaped mouth, and, “Hey! Not that again!” Before Ajay is shoving them both off the dropship for round two.

The teasing in the ring could be seen as rivalry. They do count the kills, oh they do. Crypto keeps the lead by one point as Ajay keeps score. They bicker and huff the entire time, especially when Ajay takes down a newbie that was hanging in the back and trying to get a drop on them.

At some point they are under squad fire, a grenade heading their way and rolling on the ground. Ajay calls it out from afar, Crypto is the one who spots it.

His fingers twist in Elliott’s coat, yanking him close to his body and throwing their bodies to the side so it only can get a fraction of their shields.

The tension in the corner of the room with Crypto on top of him, both panting and looking into each other’s eyes. So close and so good-

Is their ultimate down fall when they’re shot in the back.

Ajay at least laughs about it in the med bay, saying that, “Ya looked like a proper married couple. Keep ya heads down, ya hear me?” With a tease.

And then a call back, “Oh! Crypto? Two points in the lead.”

There’s a gasp as Crypto’s back hits the door of Elliott’s dorm. Inside his room as Elliott fits a leg between his thighs, grabbing his chin and tilting it down ever so slighty so he could devour his mouth. They were about equal heights, with Crypto maybe being an inch taller. Something he took a bit of amusement in.

But right now, that’s not on his mind. What is, is the pressure on his cock through his pants. How Elliott’s tongue licks into his mouth. Feeling over the piercing on Crypto’s tongue and groaning in reply when Crypto’s hands fists into his jacket and yank him closer.

Their mouths move in sync. Having kissed each other a hundred times over, they know their pace. Crypto presses, sinking his teeth into Elliott’s full lower lip just to hear him let out a shaky breath through his nose in response. His hands come up, fisting Elliott’s curls and tugging him closer with a growl.

The knee between Crypto’s thighs presses up, grinding until he’s pulling back with a whine, head thunking back against the door. This leaves him open for Elliott’s mouth to kiss at his exposed neck, mindful of where the cybernetics were most exposed and aiming for the sensitive wiring. His teeth lightly bite into the flesh feeling silicone, feeling Crypto yelp in reply with pleasure as his leg hitches around Elliott’s waist.

He’s biting his lip, keeping quiet and stubbornly trying to yank on Elliott’s hair. That won’t do.

“Think you can embarrass me like that in the ring, baby?” Elliott’s voice is steady in situations like this. His stutter maintained if he tried not to think about it too hard. His breath hot on the shell of Crypto’s ear as his tongue follows, just to feel him shudder against him.

He’s melting. He couldn’t stand being a brat for too long.

“T-think you just- ah- can't keep up.” Is Crypto’s haughty reply, followed by a huff when Elliott’s hand moves from caressing his cheek to his hair. Yanking on it to pull his head to the side to expose the other said of Crypto’s neck for another onslaught of kisses and hot bites. Pushing at his jacket with his other hand until it falls to the floor and Elliott can bite at the crook of his shoulder instead. Sucking a dark bruise there.

“Really?” Elliott breathily laughs. Tripping up Crypto behind his knee before pulling him by his hair to the floor. Watching him hit his knees almost too easy and looking up at Elliott with a dangerous gleam in his eyes. “Because from what I saw, you just about bent over for me in front of a camera.”

A sniper position, one so open that Crypto wouldn’t normally take. Lying prone to get a good shot- that's what he’d told Ajay. But he knew exactly what he was doing when he shifted his hips eeever so slightly for the trickster behind him.

He huffs through his nose, embarrassed at being caught, looking to the side. But, Elliott coos under his breath, catching his chin and dragging his gaze back up. “No, no, none of that. C’mon, kitten, you can make it up to me, can’t you?”

The nickname has Crypto’s cheeks flushing red to his ears. Surely spreading down over his chest as Elliott works on his own pants. Pulling out his cock, the head shiny with pre-cum when he smooths his hand over it a few times. Pumping to show how hard he was, pulling back foreskin and making Crypto’s mouth water.

He huffs again through his nose, followed by a whine. He about chokes when Elliott smirks, “Theeere’s my good boy. See? Can’t be mad at me for long.”

No, no, he couldn’t. Especially with his mouth stuffed full of cock and his fingers desperately pawing at Elliott’s hips not a few minutes later. Cryptos own clothing removed and his own cock aching as Elliott cradles his jaw, fingertips pressing lightly to feel the bulge in it every time he slides into his throat. Another appreciation for his piercing met every time he swipes it over the swollen head.

Crypto’s sure he’s drooling. Even by the time Elliott pulls out and is calling him a good boy. Even with the bed in the next room, Elliott can’t seem to wait. Lying Crypto down on the living room floor on his belly as he finds lube left behind on the coffee table from their LAST root around. Squirting a generous amount onto his fingers and working one into Crypto. Caressing his hip with his other hand and petting, telling him he’s a good boy, good baby.

Crypto hums in reply, cheek resting on his crossed arms under his head like a pillow. Cock jumping under his body, trapped and caged. By the time two fingers are in him, he’s sure he’s going to leave a stain on Elliott’s rug. Rocking his hips both into the rug for friction and back onto his fingers.

“Yeah, just like that. Keep it up, sweetheart.” Elliott is full of praise when he slips in a third finger. Making Crypto bite into his arm and shudder with each twist of fingers, scissoring them outwards and crooking them upwards.

A spurt of pre-cum leaves his cock and he can’t help the sob as his hips jump a bit as if stomping his foot. “Fuck me! Just- just fuck me, Elliott, I can’t take this!” Crypto hisses out, earning him a laugh from his boyfriend and an ‘alright, alright’.

He’s rolled onto his back. From there it’s a blur. The slow enter of Elliott leads to his legs around the trickster’s hips, arms around his neck and burying his face into his shoulder. No clothing between them, naked chest to naked chest, heartbeat to heartbeat.

Crypto’s cock is jostled with each thrust. Grinding up against Elliott’s slightly fuzzy abdomen and providing enough friction to keep him very much interested. Even if Elliott is hitting just right to where pleasure bubbles in his abdomen like butterflies.

His teeth sink into Elliott’s shoulder just as Elliott begins fucking him harder. Whining into Crypto’s ear in response when the other tightens his hold around his waist. Biting at the shell of his ear, nuzzling at his hair, murmuring praise just below his ear where his lips brush and his stubble scratches pleasantly.

Crypto cums suddenly and without the warning of budding heat. It happens with a shock and his nails rake down Elliott’s back with a cry. “I love you- I love you I love you--” Escapes his lips in soft sobs as his hips buck upwards into Elliott’s abdomen. Smearing the cum there, which will make for a mess to clean up later.

Instead, Elliott only groans at the sudden tightness and whines back, “Fuck, I love you-” As his hips piston into his boyfriend beneath him.

It’s all too much. Crypto’s eyes are welling with tears from overstimulation. His legs tighten even further, giving Elliott not a lot of room to work with except grind. And even then it’s all too much.

He sobs as a dry orgasm wracks his frame, just in time to hear Elliott deliciously moan in his ear like a whore as he cums. Pressing a hard kiss to Crypto’s temple as they hold each other through it all on the floor.

With a satisfied sigh and tension leaving both their frames, Elliott carefully peels back to assess the damage. Looking down at Crypto splayed out, legs still locked around his hips but looser, his hands resting by his head and his head turned to the side. Face flushed, eyes teary, lips wet and swollen.

He looked beautiful.

Elliott says so too, with a soft sigh of, “Absolutely gorgeous.” As he cups Crypto’s chest with one hand. Running his thumb over a nipple just to watch him jerk and moan softly, smacking at his hand with a grumble.

He may have lost in the ring, but in the bedroom, Elliott ‘Mirage’ Witt always won.

Always.

#Cryptage #Crypto #Mirage #Apex legends #apex lemons #nsft #lemon #commissions #princess writing

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sachigram · 4 years

Text

Truss

((click here to read on ao3!!))

When Shizuo was little, before he ever lost his temper at his brother and lifted the fridge, he learned about soulmates in school along with everyone else. He didn't have much interest in it— no one in his class really did. All of them were too young to understand, and romance in general was far less interesting than running around outside and skinning their knees up. Shizuo thought to himself, if soulmates were really something, and lots of people had one, then he wouldn't have to work too hard or think too much about it. Everything would work itself out in the end.

As he got older and his fuse got shorter and shorter, he realized how difficult soulmates actually were to come by. Most people never met their soulmates— Shinra would often babble about the actual statistics, but he'd shut up when he saw Shizuo getting pissed off about it. Probability aside, even if someone was fated to be with Shizuo, he knew they likely would never approach him even if they found each other. People avoided Shizuo, and as he grew into himself, he started avoiding them, too.

And then. Then, there was Izaya.

The day he met Orihara Izaya, Shizuo immediately got a headache just from looking at the guy. Izaya was ethereal looking, a mischievous smirk planted on his pretty face, his hair dark and messy, yet falling in artful waves like it was styled that way. His eyes seemed blood red in the orange light from the sunset, and Shizuo hated him instantly. It really was as simple as that.

They fought; Izaya slashed at Shizuo with a knife, and then Shizuo got hit by a car while chasing after him. Things only got worse as they got older, and to this day, Shizuo can't even look at Izaya without being filled with the need to chase him down and bash his pretty face in. Nothing else really ever seems to matter.

After a particularly bad fight of theirs, Shizuo ends up at Shinra's, blood soaking through his shirt. He's pissed off about it for multiple reasons: Izaya slashed him up again, his white shirt is completely ruined, and Izaya got away. Shizuo is chewing a hole in his cheek when he flops onto Shinra's couch and lets the doctor patch him up.

“Oh, wow,” Shinra says, dabbing at Shizuo's wounds with a little cotton ball. “It looks like he carved his name in you.”

“What?” Shizuo barks, looking down. Sure enough, the characters of Izaya's first name are slashed into Shizuo's chest, right across the first scar Izaya ever gave him. “What the fuck!”

“I'm surprised you didn't notice until now,” Shinra says.

“He did it so fast! I was too busy trying to hit him. Fucking flea!”

“Relax, it's not deep. I doubt it'll scar. He probably did it just to make you even madder.” Shinra dabs something that stings over the gashes, and Shizuo grumbles low in his throat, imagines going to Izaya's apartment and yanking his head off.

“He really is the worst.” Celty's PDA says exactly what Shizuo is thinking, and Shizuo nods in agreement. Shinra sighs.

“He goes all out for Shizuo-kun, that's for sure.” He applies an ointment before he digs around in his kit for some bandages. “You know... The way you guys are with each other... Have you considered you might be soulmates?”

Shizuo waits a moment before responding, because he's pretty sure Shinra might be making a shitty joke, but when Shinra just keeps right on working, Shizuo flicks him on his forehead.

“Ow! What the heck was that for?!” Shinra yelps, looking at Shizuo with teary eyes. “I'm patching you up, and this is the thanks I get?!”

“Don't pair me up with that rotten louse! I get enough of that from the girl who hangs out with Kadota!” Shizuo huffs before reclining back into the couch. “Izaya's just an insane little fucker who hates me. There's no romance involved.”

“Well, yeah, but...” Shinra frowns, rubs his forehead, and goes back to bandaging Shizuo. “He's literally all you think about. That's a sign.”

“He makes my life hell! Of course I think about him! If I stop paying attention to him, he'll do something even worse.”

“Hmm.” Shinra doesn't seem particularly convinced. “Well, there's nothing I can do about it if neither of you will listen to reason. I'm only saying, if it is that you're mated, letting it go to waste because of some rivalry is childish.”

“Rivalry?! He— You!”

“Just keep it in mind. It wouldn't be the weirdest thing to ever happen around here.”

Shizuo begs to differ. The thought alone of being Izaya's soulmate is strange enough that Shizuo feels a little nauseous. They can't be near each other without fighting. Shizuo thinks being alone is much better than being matched with someone who clearly wants him dead.

***

Shizuo doesn't see or hear from Izaya a few weeks after their fight.

At first, he revels in the quiet. He goes to work, hangs out with Tom and Vorona, sees his brother. Shinra has mentioned Izaya is busy with work or something, and that's why things have been running so smoothly.

After the first week, Shizuo begins to feel uneasy.

Izaya being quiet can't be a good thing, right? He's got to be involved in...something. He'd never allow Shizuo a moment's peace, and if he's letting it happen now, it means something worse is around the corner. Shizuo feels antsy and jittery, waiting for something he doesn't know for sure will happen.

By the second week, Shizuo is physically ill. He tries to carry on as usual. He's never been one to get sick, as his immune system is excellent, but he hasn't been sleeping much, and he thinks maybe he caught something because he hasn't been taking care of himself.

Tom takes one look at Shizuo and shakes his head, pointing to the door.

“No way, you look terrible. Vorona and I can handle things today. Go home and get some rest, man.”

“It's nothing,” Shizuo mutters, though he does feel terrible.

“You have plenty of sick days since you never use them. C'mon, go relax a little. I'll call and check in on you later,” Tom says, and Shizuo accepts defeat. Tom is hard to argue with, especially since he's never sent Shizuo home before. Shizuo must really look as bad as he feels.

“Would you like me to send you a list of remedies proven to alleviate cold symptoms?” Vorona asks.

“No, thanks though. I'll just try to sleep it off.”

He's lying on his couch later when his phone rings. He expects it to be Tom, but it's Shinra. Sighing, Shizuo answers, knowing Shinra will just keep calling.

“What?” he snaps.

“Shizuo-kun? You sound weird,” Shinra says.

“I'm sick.” Shizuo doesn't really want to tell Shinra that, as Shinra will likely use it as a reason to come bother him, but if he brings medicine along, Shizuo will tolerate it.

“Sick? You?” Shinra pauses. “You never get sick.”

“Yeah, I guess I'm due. I just feel shitty. I'm tired but I can't sleep and— ugh, my head is fucking throbbing.”

“Hmm. Did this just start today?”

“No, a few days ago. It's just been getting worse. Why? Is there something going around?” Shizuo asks. He hopes he didn't expose Tom and Vorona to the flu or something.

“You could say that!” Shinra laughs a bit, and Shizuo tenses up. He hates when Shinra does this, acts like he knows something no one else does, and then refuses to share. It reminds Shizuo too much of Izaya.

“Is there a reason you fucking called me? Your voice is making my head hurt worse,” Shizuo growls, and Shinra's laughing stops abruptly.

“Ah, sorry! Yes, Celty ran into Tom-san and Vorona-san today! She noticed you weren't there and asked me to call. I'll let her know you're fine.”

“I'm not fine. Do you have anything for headaches? All I have is ibuprofen and it's not doing shit.” Shizuo doesn't keep many pain remedies around. He's never really had a use for them.

“I don't think I have anything that'll help. Just get some rest and, uh. Let me know how you feel by Sunday.”

Shinra hangs up then, and Shizuo is left glaring at his phone. He's thankful it's the weekend. Hopefully, if he spends his off days lounging around and taking medicine, it'll pass by the time he's supposed to return to work.

Throughout the weekend, it only gets worse.

Saturday night, his head is pounding so bad he can't keep his eyes open. He tries to go to bed early and wakes an hour later feeling feverish. He gets out of bed to get some water, and then he winds up running to the bathroom to vomit. He's never gotten sick like this before. He calls Shinra, who promises to visit him in the morning.

Sunday morning, Shizuo is wrapped in two blankets on the couch. He's starving and exhausted, but he can't seem to eat or sleep. Even smoking isn't an option for him right now. He's miserable enough to relent to Shinra examining him. Shinra, of course, looks thrilled.

“So, you say it's been getting worse throughout the week?” Shinra asks as he takes Shizuo's vitals.

“Yeah. Every day it's just harder to deal with it,” Shizuo mutters. He's wearing his sunglasses inside because the lights are torturing him.

“I see,” Shinra says, and he studies the results he's written down. He frowns a bit, and then he pulls another chart from a file in his briefcase. He holds the two together in front of his face, and his face pales.

“What? What is it?” Shizuo asks, a little worried. He's been thinking this might be something bad, especially if his extremely powerful immune system can't fight it off.

“It's, uh. It's nothing,” Shinra squeaks, putting the papers away.

“You don't look like it's nothing,” Shizuo says. “What, am I dying or something? Aren't you legally obligated to tell me if I'm dying?”

“A simple check-up wouldn't tell me if you were dying,” Shinra says with a laugh, and then he's rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Look, I have an idea of what it is... But if I tell you now, you'll only get pissed off at me, and I don't want a fist in my face, especially if I'm wrong. I need to do something before I tell you for sure.”

“What the fuck?” Shizuo asks. “There's a test involved?”

“Yes! A test. We should know for sure by tomorrow!”

“I have to work tomorrow!” Shizuo protests.

“I'll give you some pills to take the edge off the headache. It won't get rid of it, but knowing you, you can power through.” Shinra packs up his things, and Shizuo scoffs at him.

“What incredible medical advice. You're telling me to deal with it.”

“I'm telling you it's nothing to worry over! Well...at least not at the moment. Worst case, you miss work tomorrow, too. Surely you have more than enough sick leave to use since you're never sick.” Shinra gives him a smile, and then he reaches in his pocket before tossing a pill bottle at Shizuo. “Take two of those. They might help you sleep, too.”

“Thanks,” Shizuo says dryly. “Do I need to do anything for this test of yours, or am I supposed to just wait around for you to get back to me?”

“Ah...” Shinra looks sheepish again. “I have to make another house call, and then... Well, if I survive, we'll figure it out from there!”

Shizuo doesn't bother asking for an explanation. Shinra never gives straight answers, especially if he's trying to avoid giving Shizuo bad news in person. Shizuo closes and locks the door behind Shinra when he leaves, and then Shizuo goes to the sink, puts two pills on his tongue, and chases them with water straight from the tap.

That night, Shizuo feels groggy and manages to sleep in waves, though it's always a fitful, shallow sleep. It's better than no sleep at all, and Shizuo feels well enough to heat up some canned soup and keep it down. He still feels feverish, so he's walking around his apartment with blankets draped over him. Tom calls a little after Shizuo washes his dinner dishes.

“Yo. Feeling any better?” Tom greets.

“Yeah, a little. Shinra came by and gave me some pills,” Shizuo says. He moves back towards the couch.

“If you need tomorrow off, just let me know,” Tom says. “We don't have any major targets anyway. Vorona can handle them.”

“I know. I'll wait till the morning to decide for sure. If I don't feel well, I'll give you a call.” Shizuo chats with Tom a little longer, and then he passes out in front of the TV.

Right after three in the morning, Shizuo wakes once more.

He feels terrible, but more than that, he feels ravenous, like he hasn't eaten in days. Technically, he hasn't, as soup doesn't count for much, nutrition wise. He groans and gets up from the couch, deciding to just walk to the convenience store down the street and find something to fill him up, as he doesn't have anything else to eat aside from rice.

There isn't anyone else on the street this early in the morning. Shizuo passes a few cabs, but he doesn't walk by anyone. It smells like rain, and the breeze feels good on his skin, though he shivers a bit as he walks. He's always enjoyed walking, especially when it's dark out. The way the lights illuminate everything around him make him feel relaxed, though his headache has him wearing his shades to keep the worst of the lights from exacerbating his already throbbing temples.

He grabs a few snacks and checks out with the clerk, who looks half-asleep and wary of Shizuo, who probably resembles a zombie at this point. Shizuo exits the store and lights a cigarette as he walks, knowing a good portion of his headache might be withdrawal. It drops from his lips and hits the ground when someone steps in front of him, the last person he'd like to see.

“Izayaaaaaaaa,” Shizuo hisses, tightening his hands into fists. He has to stop himself from throwing his snacks at Izaya, who doesn't seem well in the least.

“Shizu-chan,” Izaya lilts, waving his hand in greeting. He looks almost waifish, and the dark circles under his eyes make Shizuo wonder how bad his own must be. “You're up late.”

“I can't fucking sleep,” Shizuo says, and then he grumbles. “Why are you in Ikebukuro?”

“Oh, you know.” Izaya shrugs. “I can't sleep either, and it's been a while since I came this way.”

“You're too fucking close to my building,” Shizuo says, and Izaya feigns a surprised expression.

“You're right! I am awfully close to your hovel, aren't I? I must be delirious.”

“Are you sick? You look like shit.”

“So do you,” Izaya says, and then he crosses his arms. He sniffs a bit. “Are you going to break my arm if I go into the store? I was going to buy a bottle of tea.”

“They have tea in Shinjuku,” Shizuo says.

“Yes, but I'm already here!”

Shizuo expects his head to pound again, because out of everyone in his life, Izaya pisses him off the most. Weirdly enough, he feels...better? Maybe those pills Shinra gave him are starting to work.

“Whatever,” Shizuo mutters at last. “If you do anything, I'll kill you later. I'm too tired to deal with you right now.”

He walks towards Izaya, who stiffens a bit. He doesn't know why he does it, but Shizuo bumps shoulders with Izaya as he passes, and Izaya doesn't do anything in retaliation.

Both of them must really be sick and delusional.

***

When he wakes up again, Shizuo feels great, like he was never sick at all. He doesn't question it too much, since this is usually how colds work for him. He'll feel a little sluggish, and then perfectly normal again. Maybe this was just a bad flu or something. Either way, it's over now, so Shizuo goes to work as usual, and he doesn't think about it again until Shinra calls him a little after he gets back home.

“Did you see Izaya-kun last night?” Shinra asks as soon as Shizuo picks up the phone.

“What the... Yeah? I ran into him at fucking three in the morning.”

“Did you...interact with him?” Shinra asks.

“A little bit. We didn't fight. Is Izaya sick, too? He looked like a skeleton. I didn't feel right about attacking him.” Shizuo has a bad feeling in his stomach, and he doesn't know why.

“This might sound odd, but please don't get too angry,” Shinra says. “Did Izaya-kun touch you at all? Even in passing?”

Shizuo freezes in his tracks. He was going to his fridge to get a beer, but now his stomach is lurching uncomfortably.

“He... No. No, I brushed against him. I think I was threatening him, or... I mean, I didn't think about it.” Shizuo swallows. “Why?”

Shinra sighs, and Shizuo knows he isn't going to like what comes next.

“Your symptoms matched with Izaya-kun's. Everything on your chart, your heart-rate, your temperature, your maladies—everything matched. You both got sick at the same time, right when Izaya-kun was too busy with work to interact with you. It got worse and worse for the two of you until you saw Izaya-kun again, and as soon as you touched, even brushing past, both of your symptoms went away.”

“...huh?” Shizuo's voice sounds small even to him. Shinra clears his throat.

“Do you understand what it is I'm getting at? I know I...mentioned before about being mated to Izaya-kun. You refused to entertain the idea, and so did he. I couldn't do any tests without your consent. But now... Shizuo-kun, this is more than being mated. This is... Are you familiar with a soul bond?”

“A what? You're... Are you saying Izaya is my soulmate? This is— You're sure?” Shizuo wants to feel angry. He wants to refute this and prove Shinra wrong, but as it is, he just feels empty inside.

“I've told you before about the rarity of soulmates. Some people have marks, and every now and then, mated pairs will find each other. Neither you nor Izaya-kun have marks, so it was hard to tell, but when you both got sick from being apart... This is deeper than a normal soul-link, not that those are anything to take lightly. A bond is extremely, extremely rare. There's only been one case in the last year, and it's been over five years since any in Japan have been reported.”

“I don't... I don't get it. I have a soul bond with Izaya? What's that mean?”

“You and Izaya-kun are essentially two halves of one whole. You can't be apart from him without feeling the effects. As insane as it sounds, the two of you were able to keep yourselves sated by fighting—hitting each other, touching at all, even with ill-intent. The moment you met, this started, but it wasn't until you stopped seeing Izaya-kun that the withdrawal crept in.” There's the sound of shifting, fabric rustling. “I'm saying Izaya-kun is more than your soulmate, Shizuo-kun.”

“I don't believe you,” Shizuo says, though he does. He wondered, at least a little, why he felt better as soon as Izaya crossed his path. “You don't know for sure.”

“It's not one-hundred percent,” Shinra relents. “There are a few more tests I can do, if the two of you cooperate.”

“Fine, whatever, anything to prove you wrong!”

Shinra comes by the next day with a sheet of paper filled with questions. They're strange, it's by far the weirdest test Shizuo has ever taken. It asks about dreams, intrusive thoughts, sudden cravings he's had that he's never had before. He fills it out honestly, knowing that lying won't get him anywhere. When he's done, he looks expectantly at Shinra, who is reading them over.

“So?” he barks. “Do they match or whatever?”

“Izaya-kun hasn't taken his test yet,” Shinra says. “He's taking this much worse than you are.”

“Why?!” Shizuo growls. “He's the one who starts everything! He's the awful one! It should be me who refuses to cooperate!”

Shinra shrugs. “Tell him that.”

Five days go by, and Shizuo doesn't hear anything from Shinra. He also doesn't see or hear from Izaya, and by the sixth day, the headache is back. In a fit of rage, Shizuo finds himself opening Izaya's contact. He sends a text.

Does your head hurt?

An hour passes. Shizuo is about to stomp all the way to Shinjuku, but then his phone goes off.

Don't tell me you're actually entertaining this. Izaya sends.

What the fuck else am I supposed to do?

No response. Shizuo waits another fifteen minutes before sending another message.

What if he's right?

Izaya responds right away.

He's not right.

You must have thought he was a little since you came to see me at 3am.

No response. Shizuo roars in rage, which only makes his head hurt worse. He sends another texts, his thumbs pressing so hard against his phone screen, he worries he might crack it.

Take the fucking test or I'm going to tie you up and make you do it.

Kinky ;) Izaya sends.

TAKE THE GODDAMN TEST

Oh, fine. When he ends up being wrong, you can stop acting so pitiful.

The next day, Shizuo doesn't hear anything from Shinra or Izaya. Usually, he'd welcome the quiet, but at the moment, he wants to hear something, anything. His head is beginning to pound unbearably, and he has to take sleeping pills to even scrounge up a few hours of sleep. When he wakes, he has a missed call from Shinra, as well as a text message.

Izaya-kun's test matched yours exactly. I'm sorry.

Shizuo wants to throw his phone against the wall, but he doesn't. As angry as he is, he thinks he already knew. He knew as soon as Shinra mentioned it the first time, he just didn't want to accept it.

He lasts one more day before he's marching to Shinjuku. His head hurts, and he's feeling feverish, but he manages to make it through work. Tom asks where he's going in such a hurry.

“I'm going to kill Izaya,” Shizuo mutters, and he ignores the look Vorona and Tom give each other.

Shizuo bangs on Izaya's door until it opens, and an irritable woman looks back at him. His words die in his throat as she glares at him.

“He's in his room,” she tells him, opening the door. “It's right up the stairs.”

“Uh... Thanks?”

“Tell him I'm leaving for the day, please. I'm tired of dealing with him.” He watches as she gathers her things and leaves, and Shizuo waits only a few moments before he goes up the stairs.

Izaya is buried in blankets, looking as miserable as Shizuo feels. He glowers at Shizuo and rolls away, putting his back to Shizuo.

“Go away,” he moans.

“Izaya—“ Shizuo starts.

“No, I don't want to hear it. I don't want to talk about this.”

Shizuo growls. “Why are you being so shitty about this?! As if I'm happy about it! Aren't you supposed to be the smart one?”

“Shizu-chan, even if Shinra is right, what do you propose?” Izaya asks, and then he turns to look at Shizuo. “Do you know what soul bonds mean? You being here at all is going to make it worse.”

“What do you mean? I thought it would help?”

“It will, for a while. Every time we're in proximity, it's like a patch over the problem. It'll help a while, but the next time we feel this way, it'll be worse. We lose days every time.” Izaya rubs his hands over his face. “It's like it got even worse once Shinra opened his fat mouth. We were doing just fine before.”

“So what, then? You want to ignore it?” Shizuo asks.

“We can go on as normal, right? We can fight, and maybe if we draw out how often we see each other, we can lengthen the amount of time it takes before we have to see each other again. We'll...build a tolerance.”

“Fuck that! I feel like shit, and so do you! I'm not gonna just build a tolerance to feeling shitty! Who does that?!” Shizuo stomps towards the bed, and when Izaya meets his eyes, Shizuo freezes. Izaya looks scared. No. Izaya looks terrified.

“Don't touch me!” Izaya shouts, and Shizuo's entire body goes cold. “You idiot, just... Just leave, okay? You're making it worse.”

Shizuo runs his tongue along his teeth, counts to ten. He shakes his head.

“I'm not leaving. I'm not letting you ignore it.”

Izaya laughs, and it sounds completely hollow.

“Do you even understand what you're saying? It's not as if you want to be here. If you don't leave, and you insist on touching me, it's only going to get stronger.”

“Ignoring it isn't an option. It's gonna get worse even if we build a tolerance to it. So then what, it takes a month or so before we feel like this? We're gonna have to interact anyway.” Shizuo moves towards the bed, and Izaya watches him warily. “Might as well get it over with.”

Izaya rolls as far as he can when Shizuo sits on the edge of the bed. There's a large space between them, and Shizuo sighs before reaching out, his fingers skimming along Izaya's shoulder.

“I-za-ya,” Shizuo murmurs. “Come on. Meet me halfway here.”

“I hate you,” Izaya says, but he reaches his hand above the covers. Shizuo touches Izaya's hand timidly, and the instant their skin touches, their headaches vanish completely.

“Oh...” Shizuo breathes. He's close enough to watch Izaya's throat bob as he swallows, close enough to see Izaya's eyelashes. He traces his fingers along the soft skin of Izaya's knuckles, and they aren't holding hands, but Shizuo finds he wants to.

“You've only made it worse,” Izaya says. “The closer you get, the worse it'll be next time.”

“We aren't very close,” Shizuo says. “We don't have to get close. We can manage this much. Just...whenever it's bad, we can touch hands or something. It's not the end of the world.”

“You don't get it,” Izaya argues.

“So then tell me.”

Izaya just shakes his head, and then he pulls his hand away. Shizuo knows he isn't going to get anything else from Izaya, so he stands and leaves, the skin on his hand burning more and more with every step he takes away from Izaya.

***

It takes three days for Shizuo to understand what Izaya meant.

The next time the headache sets in, it's terrible. Shizuo's sunglasses do nothing to help his light sensitivity, and he winds up vomiting right in the middle of the sidewalk, Tom and Vorona on either side of him. They each take an arm and lead him to Shinra's, and the entire time, Shizuo is moaning in pain, trying to explain to them that it won't help.

They're at Shinra's for about fifteen minutes before Izaya stumbles in, looking haggard. Vorona and Tom stand instantly to defend Shizuo and tell Izaya Shizuo is in no shape to fight, but Shizuo shoves past them and hurries to Izaya, taking the informant into his arms like they're lovers.

“You fucking idiot,” Izaya murmurs, but he holds Shizuo just as tightly. “What have you done?”

“I'm sorry,” Shizuo says, and he presses his face into Izaya's hair. “I'm so fucking sorry.”

“Ah. Tom-san, Vorona-san, why don't you let me make you some tea?” Shinra asks, and the sound of footsteps leading from the door alerts Shizuo that he's alone with Izaya. He presses Izaya into the wall of the hallway, still hugging him tightly.

“I don't know what to do,” Shizuo admits. He's breathing Izaya in, and he wants to hate it, to feel as angry about Izaya's scent as usual, but he can't. He feels nothing but relief and comfort with every breath he takes. “Tell me what we can do.”

“There's nothing,” Izaya says, his voice muffled by Shizuo's shoulder. “You've doomed us both. It's only going to get worse.”

“Fuck,” Shizuo hisses. He nuzzles into Izaya's hair, can't think about why he's doing it. “Don't go away again. If it's worse every time, next time, I'm just gonna fucking pass out.”

“Shizu-chan...” Izaya's voice is small, unlike him. Shizuo offers a groan in response, letting Izaya know he understands completely. They don't let go of each other for quite a while.

“Man,” Tom says later when he and Vorona are walking Shizuo home. “Talk about a tough break. Being bonded to someone you hate? It's almost better not to be bound at all.”

“Statistically speaking, being bound at all—“ Vorona starts, and Shizuo grunts at her.

“I don't wanna hear the numbers. They only remind me how unlucky I am.” Shizuo is used to being an anomaly, but the universe really cursed him this time around. Vorona only shrugs, and Tom makes a face.

“Sorry, man. You wanna get drunk?” he asks.

“I'll just wake up hungover. Thanks, though. I'll keep it in mind,” Shizuo mumbles, and Tom and Vorona don't speak again.

The next day, it's all over the news that a couple in Japan are soul bound. Names aren't used, as neither Shizuo nor Izaya agreed to be named, but it seems like everyone is talking about it no matter where Shizuo goes. He wants to be pissed at Shinra for reporting it, but he knows why Shinra had to. If it's really so rare, it's kind of like some breakthrough case, and it gives other people hope. Shizuo is only glad his name wasn't used, and the only ones who know aren't blabbermouths, aside from Shinra, who fears Shizuo and Izaya both too much to say anything.

Part of Shizuo worries Izaya might try to work this to his own advantage, but Izaya seems every bit as displeased about it as Shizuo is, and Shizuo thinks Izaya won't want his name bound to someone's publicly either. They agree to meet the next day so they can fend off the sickness, and Shizuo goes to Izaya's place to make sure Izaya doesn't try to weasel his way out of it.

It isn't like the last time. Neither of them feel sick yet, so they're able to sit close to each other and touch hands while remaining far apart. Izaya scrolls his phone, not looking at Shizuo, and Shizuo tries to do the same, but it annoys him to be treated so impersonally.

“What are you doing anyway?” Shizuo snaps after a while, and Izaya turns to him with an eyebrow raised.

“Working,” Izaya says shortly.

“On what?”

“Sorry, I don't think that's your business?” Izaya says, smirking at Shizuo, and Shizuo tosses his hand away like it's diseased.

“God, I detest you. Whatever, I'm leaving.”

“Fine. Leave, then,” Izaya says, waving him away.

“I will!” Shizuo shouts back.

“I'm not stopping you! The door's right there,” Izaya says, and they glare at each other for a few moments before Shizuo stomps to the door and leaves, slamming it behind him.

They last one day.

Shizuo feels the headache settling in the second he arrives home from work. He vomits an hour later, and before he can even contact Izaya, Izaya is knocking on his door, a defeated look in his eyes.

Again, Shizuo takes Izaya into his arms. He doesn't think anything of it. The more he tries to rationalize it, the worse he feels about it, so he just listens to his body. He wants to be close to Izaya, wants to keep Izaya safe, wants to breathe Izaya in, so that's what he does. They stand at the door for a while, and then Shizuo carries Izaya to the couch, arranges them so Izaya is sitting on Shizuo's lap. If Izaya has any reservations, he doesn't voice them. He's silent as he hugs Shizuo around the neck, and Shizuo appreciates the lack of argument. They're stuck together in this, so he thinks the sooner they accept it, the better.

“Fuck,” Izaya says after a few minutes. He pulls away, and Shizuo makes a soft noise of protest before he pulls Izaya back. Their foreheads touch, and Shizuo closes his eyes, careful to swallow the moan that threatens to escape his lips. It feels so good to touch Izaya like this, to be this close. It's like a drug.

“I didn't mean to make it worse,” Shizuo says, his eyes still closed. He doesn't want to look at Izaya this close, worries he might try to kiss Izaya if he does. Izaya hums in response.

“You were right. It would've gotten worse no matter what we did,” Izaya says, and his hands settle on Shizuo's cheeks. Shizuo does moan then, can't help it. He feels Izaya go rigid against him.

“Did Shinra tell you the results of our test?” Shizuo asks. He has to say something to stop himself from opening his eyes. Izaya surely notices Shizuo is trying to distract him, but he goes along with it.

“He didn't tell you?” Izaya asks.

“Not about the test test, no. He told me our vitals were the same, but I didn't really understand the next part.”

“Mm. You described an odd dream I've been having. And you said you were craving ootoro despite not liking it much.”

“So?” Shizuo asks.

“That's my favorite food. As for the dream, it was about destroying some woman's shop. I had no idea who she was, but it was recurring.”

Shizuo inhales sharply, and then he laughs. He can't help it. His life is so incredibly odd.

“You really are my soulmate, aren't you? Fuck. This is insane. So we can share thoughts?”

“I think so. If we worked at it.” Izaya's nose presses against Shizuo's, and Shizuo opens his eyes, shivers at way Izaya is looking at him. “It's not uncommon for soul bonded pairs to be linked mentally, though I doubt either of us wants that.”

“Isn't it kind of inevitable at this point?” Shizuo asks, and Izaya laughs softly.

“Maybe. It's so rare that I don't know for sure.”

Eventually, Izaya untangles himself from Shizuo, and though Shizuo wants to yank Izaya back into his arms, he refrains. Izaya waves before ducking out of the apartment, and Shizuo just knows he isn't going to sleep well that night, whether their bond is satisfied or not.

He dreams of a big house, empty aside from himself and two babies. He's left to care for them, and he isn't good at it, but he has to be. He's all they have. He's cooking and then the smoke alarm goes off, and it wakes him up. He knows miles away, Izaya must be up, too.

Shizuo fights it as long as he can. He can feel Izaya fighting it, too. They last an entire two days before they wind up back together. Shizuo finds Izaya in a cafe, where he knows Izaya will be despite the fact they aren't talking. He takes one look at Izaya hunched in a chair, and then they're embracing, ignoring the looks of the other patrons.

“This place has excellent hot chocolate. Do you want some?” Izaya asks. Shizuo is entirely helpless to him, is resisting the urge to kiss Izaya silly.

“Yes. Fuck, whatever you want,” Shizuo murmurs, and Izaya trembles. He calls their order to the girl at the counter, and Shizuo takes Izaya's face in his hands, brushes his lips over Izaya's.

“Shizu...” Izaya breathes, and then their mouths are meeting. Shizuo groans against Izaya's lips, kisses him softly at first, and then brushes his tongue across Izaya's lips. Izaya resists, and Shizuo growls lowly in warning, and then their tongues are meeting, and Shizuo loses his mind at the taste of his mate. Izaya melts against him, and Shizuo's hands move under Izaya's shirt, span the soft skin of Izaya's back, and it takes the sound of the girl announcing the hot chocolate is ready for them to break apart. Shizuo tries to go retrieve it, but Izaya whines and pulls him closer, silently begging Shizuo not to let go of him. Shizuo carries Izaya to the counter, and then back to the table. He holds Izaya in his lap and lets the drink go cold in favor of tasting Izaya to his heart's content.

“Come over,” Shizuo pleads later. He's pressing Izaya to the wall outside. He knows they shouldn't make a spectacle of themselves like this, but he can't resist the call of Izaya's lips, and he knows Izaya feels the same.

“Shizu-chan... It's not a good idea,” Izaya says, trying to turn away from Shizuo's mouth. Shizuo yanks him back, licks inside Izaya's mouth with a low groan.

“I can't be without you anymore. I don't care what that makes us,” Shizuo says when they break apart again. “We can just sleep. I don't need anything but for you to be beside me.”

“Okay,” Izaya agrees at last, and he mewls enticingly when Shizuo licks at his neck. Shizuo doesn't know how he lived so long without the taste of Izaya on his tongue.

“Thank you,” Shizuo says, feeling pathetic. If Izaya tries to leave, he thinks he might go insane. He carries Izaya back to his apartment building, and he holds Izaya's hand while Izaya orders them takeout on his phone.

They wind up sharing lo-mein from the Chinese place nearby, Izaya feeding Shizuo a bite before taking his own. They pick at everything else, their eyes on each other as they try to eat, but eating isn't what their bodies are screaming for. Izaya just barely manages to set the takeout containers on the floor before Shizuo is pressing Izaya's body into the couch cushions, kissing him hungrily, desperately. Izaya wraps around Shizuo, kisses Shizuo back just as ravenously. Their bond sings between them, and when Shizuo grinds down against Izaya, Izaya gasps and rolls his hips up to meet him.

“Izaya... Izaya, fuck...” Shizuo manages, panting against Izaya's neck as they move together.

“Shizu-chan... We...nnn... We should stop...” Izaya breathes, and Shizuo whines in response.

“Do you want to...?”

“No,” Izaya says, and he looks up at Shizuo, his pupils blown wide. “What do you want?”

“I want you,” Shizuo says, and the second the words leave him, he feels the truth in them. Suddenly, the fact they've waited this long is ridiculous. They're mated. Mates can't be apart like this.

“Are you sure?” Izaya asks, and he runs his hands through Shizuo's hair. “If we do this, there's no going back. We'll never get away from each other.”

“So? I don't want to be away from you.” Shizuo turns his head, catches Izaya's wrist, and pulls Izaya's hand to himself, kissing the soft skin of Izaya's palm. “It's already too late for that, isn't it?”

Izaya breathes deeply, and then he shakes his head.

“It's not you talking. It's the bond. You need to think about this and what it means.”

“How am I supposed to think about it?” Shizuo asks. “If you go away again, I'm gonna lose my fucking mind. And when you're next to me, you're all I want.” Shizuo looks into Izaya's eyes. “What's left? What do I have to do to convince you that I need you?”

“I don't know,” Izaya says. He looks upset, and Shizuo hates it, wants to fight whatever is hurting Izaya like this, though he gets the feeling it's Izaya himself. “No one's ever... It doesn't make sense...”

“Izaya,” Shizuo says, and he hears the desire in his own voice.

“I'm supposed to go to America in a few days,” Izaya blurts suddenly, and Shizuo freezes above him. “I have a few clients there... I'm supposed to be gone for a month.”

“A month?” Shizuo asks, his mouth dry. “You can't. Izaya—we won't last a month.”

“I don't want this!” Izaya sits up, and Shizuo willingly backs away from him. “I don't want to be tied to you! You don't even fucking want me! You need me, and I don't...” Izaya pauses before looking down at the couch cushions. “It'd be different if it was anyone else, but you hate me. You've always hated me. We're only together because it stops you from feeling like shit.”

“That's the only reason you're here, too,” Shizuo says, and he can feel the despair coming from Izaya. It doesn't make any fucking sense. Neither of them want this... Izaya hates Shizuo just as much as Shizuo's always hated Izaya, right?

Izaya stands and hurries out the door. Shizuo feels the pull of their bond, but he doesn't chase after Izaya. He doesn't know what the fuck he's supposed to say.

***

Two days later, Shizuo is completely bed-bound.

Shinra comes by to give him painkillers and a lecture, but Shizuo shoves Shinra out the door before the doctor can say something too stupid. Celty stays behind, and Shizuo doesn't mind talking to her about it. She's his best friend, and she has his best interests at heart.

“So he's just going to go across the ocean for a month?” Celty asks. She fidgets. “I don't know much about soul bonds, but I don't think the two of you would survive that.”

“Izaya doesn't seem to care,” Shizuo mutters. He has his sunglasses on inside again. He knows Celty won't find it rude.

“Izaya knows he can't do it. No one could be away from their soulmate for that long.” Her shoulders sink with a sigh. “I love Shinra, but even we aren't soulmates. Shinra has a human lifespan, and... He'll die never finding his soulmate.”

“Does he have a mark?” Shizuo asks. He's often wondered this. It wouldn't make sense for Shinra, a human, to be bound to Celty.

“Yes. It's faded, grayed out on top. It means the person bound to him is already dead. He says he doesn't care, that he wouldn't love them anyway, because likely they'd have a head.” Celty doesn't have an expression to read, but Shizuo can read it all the same. She's looking at him imploringly, hopefully. She wants him to understand her meaning.

“What would you do, if you were me?” Shizuo asks. Celty has been around for a long time. More than that, he trusts her. She wouldn't lie to him.

“For starters, I wouldn't let him leave. It's basically a death wish for you both.” She pauses, her shadows swirling thoughtfully from her neck. “I don't know Izaya very well, but Shinra does. Shinra says Izaya is afraid of rejection, and that he's scared to be himself around anyone. I think Izaya just wants to know that you want him for him, and not because some otherworldly force is telling you to.”

“How am I supposed to convince him of that if I don't even know the answer for sure?” Shizuo asks, and he can tell she's sighing.

“How can you expect him to stay if he thinks you're doing it in spite of your hatred of him?”

“Fuck,” Shizuo murmurs, knowing she's right. “This is why I never talk to you about stuff like this. You're too smart.”

She whacks him on the shoulder, and he laughs, knowing she's laughing with him even if he can't hear it. When she leaves, he thinks about what she said, what Shinra said, and what Izaya said. He decides to go to Izaya's the next day. He'll make Izaya hear him.

In the morning, Shizuo wakes up to his alarm blaring, and he can barely move. Making it to Izaya's will be impossible, and he knows if he calls Izaya, Izaya won't answer. He considers calling Shinra and having Shinra intervene on his behalf, but there's no need. Shortly after noon, Shizuo hears clicking in the lock, and then the door is opening. Izaya stumbles inside, and Shizuo thinks that maybe Izaya was always the stronger of the two of them, because Izaya is still standing.

“I'm leaving later today,” Izaya says. He leans against the wall, his complexion slightly green.

“So why are you here?” Shizuo asks. “Even if you come over here with me, the effects won't last a month. You'll be overseas, and we'll both be too sick to function.”

“I'm here to tell you goodbye,” Izaya says, and he's inching closer, still tilting into the wall as he goes. “Maybe I'm here to take the edge off the pain until I'm too far for that to be an option anymore.”

“Izaya,” Shizuo says. He balances himself on his elbows as he lifts to look at Izaya. “Don't go.”

“Why not?” Izaya asks, halting in his tracks. “Why wouldn't I?”

“Because we need each other, because we're bound. Because every second you aren't around, I sense what you're thinking, have the same dreams as you, crave the same foods as you. Fuck, Izaya, I don't know. I love you, okay? Isn't that reason enough for you to stay?” Shizuo asks. He rolls off the couch, managing to stand on his knees.

“I've loved you since high school,” Izaya says, and Shizuo doesn't have to look for the truth in Izaya's words. He can tell they're honest. “I loved you before I knew of any bond. But you hated me. You hated me when we met, before I even did anything.”

“I was a pissed off teenager, and we both fought so much it never occurred to me I'd be bound to you. For fuck's sake, Izaya, have you ever considered I hated you because you were too fucking pretty to look at?” Shizuo asks, and Izaya's eyes widen.

“Is that a reason to hate someone?” Izaya asks, and Shizuo laughs bitterly.

“Yes. I hated myself and my strength, and you showed up next to Shinra, looking perfect. I didn't think I'd ever even deserve to be near you. And then you slashed me across the chest—“

“After you charged at me,” Izaya interjects.

“Yes. After that. I'm not denying my part in our feud, okay? I'm not denying any of it. I love you. I don't care what's making me love you, and I don't care if I need you, because I want you, too. I've wanted you longer than I've needed you. I've wanted you since we met.” Shizuo looks up, and Izaya is in front of him now, still standing. Shizuo wraps his arms around Izaya's waist and buries his face into Izaya's stomach.

“Shizu-chan,” Izaya says. His hands settle in Shizuo's hair.

“Izaya, please,” Shizuo breathes, and Izaya drops to his knees, his arms flying around Shizuo's neck before their lips meet. Shizuo pulls Izaya to him, kissing him as if his life depends on it, and with their bond satisfied, Shizuo is able to stand and pull Izaya along with him to the bed.

“I have lube in my pocket,” Izaya says, his eyes wide as he looks at Shizuo. “I just thought... I thought if it worked out, you wouldn't be prepared, so...”

“I don't need a condom, do I?” Shizuo asks, though he knows the answer already. Izaya is pressed against him from head to toe, and Shizuo can feel in their bond that Izaya has never been touched by anyone else.

“No,” Izaya says. “I... I've never wanted anyone but you.”

“Neither have I.”

It's not perfect. It's fast, clumsy. Izaya prepares himself because Shizuo is too afraid of hurting him, and once Shizuo is pushing himself into Izaya, neither of them lasts long enough for it to be thoroughly enjoyable. Shizuo thrusts once, twice, and comes inside Izaya with a whine. His hand circles Izaya's dick and barely pumps Izaya at all before Izaya joins him.

It's not great sex, but they both know as soon as it's over that they'll never be able to be apart again. Shizuo leans down and kisses Izaya's cheeks, his eyelids. He tastes tears on Izaya's face and feels in Izaya's feedback that Izaya is happy, comforted. Neither of them has to say anything at all.

They have each other a few more times that night, each time getting better. Izaya eventually cancels his flight, saying he knew all along that Shizuo wouldn't let him go. They fall asleep joined together, and they share the same dream, but in the morning, neither of them remembers it.

Shizuo wakes early and nuzzles into Izaya, who moans quietly before tugging Shizuo closer.

“Don't you have to work today?” Izaya asks, and Shizuo kisses him gently.

“I have a few sick days left.”

“Mmm,” Izaya hums, one of his hands moving over Shizuo's chest. He giggles suddenly and moves closer.

“What?” Shizuo asks sleepily.

“I'm tracing my name,” Izaya says, moving his fingers over where he carved his name in Shizuo before.

“Oh, fuck you,” Shizuo grumbles, but he doesn't really care much. He's far too pleased with their bond resonating between them, and he can feel Izaya is, too.

“You were always mine,” Izaya murmurs, and he kisses his name across Shizuo's chest, marks that won't scar, but are settled over a scar Izaya carved in the past, their first meeting, in fact.

“I was,” Shizuo says, and though he didn't always know it, he knows now that it's true all the same.

#shizaya #Shizuo Heiwajima #Izaya Orihara #soulmate AU #soul bonds #separation anxiety

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a-mythical-lady · 3 years

Text

Books and me.

14 years ago

(Age: 7)

It was bedtime and maa had just made my bed when I heard the front door open. Papa was home from work and I could hear bhai running to see papa and tell him random stuff. I bet papa listened to everything, despite being tired. After that, he came to my room, "Look what I got you" he said, and extended a book to me. I was confused as he had never brought me a book before. It was a book called Panchatantra. A story of an old rishi who gives life lessons to his five shishyas at the gurukul through stories about nature and animals. I was excited about getting my first book and begrudgingly, maa let me stay up later than usual. That night, sprawled on my bed, I was entranced and fascinated by all the different stories and scenes and talking animals. The next morning, I woke up by myself and finished the entire book by noon.

The next thing I know, I'm collecting comics and storybooks and getting addicted to them. Piling up tinkle comics, Archie's and Amar Chitra Katha was my only goal. Every train journey to my native place involved dragging papa to the railway station bookstore and getting myself a comic book for the train ride. I begged my parents to subscribe to storybooks along with the daily morning newspaper, and they relented after a lot of coaxing. Then, every Monday morning I'd wait eagerly for the newspaper boy to deliver my weekly dose of happiness with books of chacha Choudary, chandamama, and champak. Soon, this became an obsession that even my parents started noticing. Maa began hiding my copies of storybooks during the exams and giving them back only after all my exams were done. I began pestering papa to get me more and more books every day. Sometimes he would get me a double digest edition of tinkle and I'd be ecstatic and over the moon. It's amazing how something so small and silly used to make me so happy. I'd re-read the same books once I'd gone through my entire stash of new books. Out of desperation, I'd read anything I could lay my hands on. In school, we used to get all our term textbooks a month before the reopening of a new academic year and my English textbooks fell prey to this obsession of mine. I'd know all the lessons and stories by heart before the school year started. I think that was one of the reasons for the nerd label I got in school. I even started reading stories from the Bible, borrowing storybooks from another girl in my neighborhood. Little did I know that this was only the beginning.

10 years ago

(Age: 11)

One fine summer afternoon, bhai was busy watching tv in the living room and maa and papa were at work. We had free rein on the tv as it was the summer holidays and I had free rein on my books. I was lazing around in my room and started searching the entire house for something new to read. And finally, I found a book among bhai's things. It was probably a gift. It wasn't a comic book or a usual storybook. This one was an actual book. A novel. And it had no pictures. I was skeptical but boredom got the best of me and I decided to read a few pages to pass the time. It was a hardy boys book, written by Franklin W Dixon. After reading a few pages, my 11-year-old brain almost exploded with fascination. The style of writing, the mystery, the suspense of the entire book drew me in completely and I knew then, this was a turning point in my life where books are concerned. I felt almost grown-up. And so I read the 200 page novel with wide eyes and a bursting heart in 3 hours, without even getting up to pee. I went and told bhai about the new book I read. He laughed it off. I told maa and papa when they came back from work. "That's good beta", they said. I was disappointed that they didn't feel the same exhilaration that I did. Papa still got my books whenever I asked him. For the second time, I found myself collecting and piling up books. All of the hardy boys and Nancy drew collections. Once again, I was entranced, trapped yet alive like never before in a whole new world.

After that, a multitude of options lay before me. I dived headfirst into reading mystery and moved onto classics written by Charles Dickens, The Bronté sisters, Mary Shelly, and even a dash of Shakespeare. I fell in love with David Copperfield, Oliver twist, treasure island, Jane Eyre and Frankenstein.

But eventually, buying books so often became a chore and at the pace I was reading, with one book hardly lasting a day, we couldn't afford to buy as many books. So, then one day, maa and I set out on a goose chase all over the city looking for libraries where I could borrow books from. At last, we found an old government library inside an even older building that looked almost haunted. And as we bravely stepped into the barely holding up building, we only found old uncles reading newspapers and gossiping. Thankfully, there was a rack of English fiction. Just one single rack. Although mildly disappointed, I was determined to make do with that. I got myself a membership plan and my reading palette had its first taste of Indian authors. That one rack had a fair collection of young adult books, standalone contemporary novels which sated my hunger for quite some time. While other people gushed over my habit of reading books, my parents were a little concerned. But as I started writing my own speeches in school, improved in my speaking skills, I'm sure they were convinced and over time, I think they accepted this obsession of mine. Or at the very least, were forced to.

6 years ago.

(Age: 15)

My love for reading only grew and now I had a book beside me during breakfast, lunch, and dinner which my parents barely tolerated. I even started planting a book in every corner of my house for easy access, under the coffee table, by my bed, on my study table. While kids my age sneaked mobile phones under their pillows, I sneaked in books to read.

After a few years, I finally met a kindred spirit with a shared love for reading. He was older than me and introduced me to books by Dan Brown. I listened with rapt attention to the plot of the book and I immediately knew that my days of reading hardy boys and young adult books were over. It's crazy how transitioning between genres and different types of books made me feel older and mature over the years. Few pages into the Da Vinci code and I fell, hook, line, and sinker. I finished the entire 500-page book in a day. Back then, I was pretty adamant about having my own copies of books and collecting them, which I guess stemmed from my childhood obsession with collecting comics. Soon, I'd exhausted the books at the old library and had no other option but to trade in my precious books for second-hand books at a wholesale book store very far away from home. Because they were at a secondhand rate, I could now afford more books and although the pages were worn out and yellowed, I was happy. The already folded pages, notes in the corners of some pages jotted down by the previous owner made me feel oddly connected and attached.

Present-day

(Age: 21)

As I grew up and left my teenage years behind, life and boards got in my way and there were gaps when I couldn't read no matter how hard I tried. But once I found my way back to books. I knew what I was missing and knew that I would never stop reading again. I still read books by Dan Brown, Sydney Sheldon, and Nora Roberts. I found quite a few talented Indian authors. Books by Durjoy Dutta and Ravinder Singh made me fall in love with contemporary romance and light humor. I've moved on to reading books on my phone now. I miss turning pages of an actual book, but on the bright side, I get to read countless books anytime and anywhere I want. I've explored many genres over the years, murder and crime thrillers, romance, contemporary, dark fiction, and comedy, and read them accordingly when the mood strikes.

If there's one thing that has been a constant through my childhood, it has been books. Reading is a huge part of my life and very close to my heart. Words and writing mean so much to me. Books have been my solace, my safe place, my companions as I grew up, my fantasy land, and my hiding place all rolled into one. I've cried, loved, smiled, and laughed with books and I can't describe how utterly grateful I am to maa and papa for getting me my first book when I was just 7 and letting me explore my love for reading.

Although, there's one thing I'd like to admit. There's this one genre that I've never read - non-fiction and strangely, I'm still very skeptical about it. But you never know, over time I might come to like that as well!

MAJ

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rachelbethhines · 4 years

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Digimon Adventure Shipping Masterpost - Part 2

Part 1

Sora x Izzy (Kora)

Pros:They’re both the most level headed of the group and there’s relatively little drama between them. So if you want something sweet and cute that’s stress free, then this could do ya. There’s also the added bonus of breaking up the Tai/Sora/Matt triangle.

Cons: They’re also kind of boring. They don’t play off one another in any interesting way. They’re just generally nice to each other and can work together as a team, and that’s about it. They also rarely interact outside of the group.

Personal Ranking (5/10) Eh..I can see it working and I don’t mind it as a refreshing break from the drama, but there are more interesting ships out there for them.

Sora x Mimi (Mira)

Pros: These two were the only two girls on the team for a long while, so naturally they spent a lot of time together on screen. They’re best friends, and therefore a lesbian’s dream team of a pairing. They got that opposites attract vibe, they’re relatively drama free, and they’re still other girls on the team that they interact with so it’s not like we’re losing the only female friendship on the show if you ship them.

Cons: Mimi is largely absent in 02, so we get less interaction between them than other Adventure characters. Also, while there are other female friendships none are quite as close as these two and so you may prefer them as platonic.

Personal Ranking (6/10) Like with Kora, I can see them working, and I do indeed like Mimi-centric ships a lot, but I kind of prefer them as a friends since for the longest time they were the only female friendship on the show; back when I was first watching.

Sora x Joe (Joura)

Pros: These two spend a lot of time together in Adventure. There’s lot of one on one interaction for them up episodes for them. They work well as a team, while still being different enough to make for an interesting interactions. Also if you have the love triangle, Joe and Sora are seen suspiciously close together during the epilogue.

Cons: Sora is in a canon ship already, if that matters to you. Plus Joe may not be your favorite, as he’s pretty decisive. Then there’s the fact that he and Sora do bump heads more so than Sora does with anyone else. It’s like a tei between Tai and Joe over who can annoy Sora the most in season one.

Personal Ranking (7/10) This is my second favorite ship for Sora, but that’s probably because I just really like Joe a lot.

Sora x T.K. (Sokeru)

Pros: This ship is oddly popular in certain sections of the fandom. I’m guessing for the same reasons why Yamakari is liked. Sora is very protective of TK in season one. While their interactions do taper off after that point, they’re still seen hanging out together in 02 and Tri, at times.

Cons: Once again their interactions are limited to mostly group settingings. They also have the same age gap as all of the 02/Adventure pairings. Given how most of their moments are in season one where that age gap makes the most difference, there’s little to go on post Adventure.

Personal Ranking (4/10) Yeah, not enough interaction to sell this one for me.

Sora x Kari (Sokari)

Pros: More femslash options. They’re mostly drama free and are very similar in terms of personality. Also, when placed together they cancel out each other’s respective love triangles.

Cons: All of the same cons as Sokeru. Also they are very similar personality wise and so their dynamic may bore you.

Personal Ranking (3/10) Yeah, count me as one who finds them boring. Add in the age gap and lack of interaction and this ship is a no go for me.

Sora x Davis (Daiora)

Pros: It’s basically Taiora but without the triangle bullshit. Also Davis is very good for unrequited romance pairings.

Cons: Even less interaction than Sokeru or Sokari. The age gap is still present even though it doesn’t matter as much in 02.

Personal Ranking (5/10) I do really like Davis, and fanworks have shown that they make a cute pairing. But only as like a one sided crush thing, so their dynamic is limited.

Sora x Yolei (Soyako)

Pros: Much like with Taisuke and Yamasuke, Sora is in that mentor to friend role for Yolei, but with slightly less of an age gap. Also more femslash options, which are indeed rarer than the slash ones, just cause there are less girls than boys in this show, sadly.

Cons: They’re kind of Mimra light as yolie is very similar to Mimi in terms of personality. Also while they get some moments in 02, that ends as soon as we get to other seasons.

Personal Ranking (4/10) Meh...I’d rather just go with Mimra.

Sora x Cody (Sori)

Pros:On the one hand they so rarely interact that you can shape their relationship post Tri into being whatever you want it to be.

Cons: On the other hand they aren't ever seen together outside of the group and it’s only in 02 where their age difference would most matter.

Personal Ranking (2/10) I guess there’s a certain freedom in being able to take a relationship in any direction you want to without it being pure crack or non-canon. I just don't know why you would want to when there’s so many other options out there.

Sora x Ken (Kenora)

Pros: Uh... They both wind up in ridiculous careers that aren’t suited to them? They’re both shoved into canon relationships without proper build up for them? Wanna cause drama for drama sake with a cheating route?

Cons: Are these two even friends? Out of all of the 02 and Adventure characters these two probably get the least amount of interaction. At best I’d call them acquaintances who just so happen to have mutual friends.

Personal Ranking (3/10) All the same cons as all the other 02/Adventure ships but taken to the max. I only rank it higher Sori because there’s a slightly less age gap.

Sora x Jun (Junora)

Pros: With these two you can pull a Korra/Asami and cut Matt off at the knees. If you’re pissed at how 02 handled relationships this can be cathartic. It’s also a femslash option that winds up being very different in dynamics from the other yuri pairings in the show.

Cons: Jun knows of Sora’s existence, and they’ve shared scenes together. Yet they’ve never talked to one another, and I’m not sure if Sora even knows who she is. Then there’s the fact that Jun is very decisive in fandom.

Personal Ranking (7/10) I really like Jun. I also like the potential dynamic that her and Sora can have. I also like getting back at Matt after the way he treated Jun. So this ship is a win/win for me.

Sora x Meiko (Meiora)

Pros: Lots of interactions and shippy moments to work off of. It’s the ‘moe’ dynamic but made gay. Triangle drama free or increased triangle drama, take your pick.

Cons: Just like with Meichi and Meimato, how much you like this ship will depend on how much you like Meiko as a character. If you thought her annoying in Tri, you’ll no doubt be annoyed by this.

Personal Ranking (6/10) This is like Sokari but made good? Kari as she gets older becomes more Sora like and Sora as she gets older becomes more Kari like. But Mei remains the woobie/soft girl through out, so you get the protectiveness and lesbian interaction minus the awkward age gap.

Izzy x Mimi (Mishirou)

Pros: It’s ‘beauty and the geek’ but with an added twist. There’s some of those awkward crush moments in Tri if you like that, but mostly Izzy is very confident and assertive, just like Mimi. They tend to call out each other’s bullshit the most often. Also Mini is perhaps the second character Izzy hangs out with one on one the most besides Tai.

Cons: The crush in Tri comes out of almost nowhere and feels like pandering. Izzy never seemed to care for Mimi in that way before and indeed was annoyed with her more often than not. Then somewhere in the middle of Tri the crush was just completely dropped altogether without any resolvement one way or the other.

Personal Ranking (6/10) I’ve warmed up to it somewhat since Tri. There is a basis there, but it does feel very forced at times, and I don't get the overwhelming love for it. It’s merely ok at best.

Izzy x Joe (Jyoushirou)

Pros: Geek meets Nerd! That’s about it. If you really like these two characters then they work just about as well as any other ship in the show. There’s also the comedic elements to their interactions together to play off of. It also nips the Izzy/Mimi/Joe triangle in the bud.

Cons: They have more moments together than Sora and Izzy, but not more than say Joe and Matt. It’s brief comedic moments when we get them together and not many serious or deep interactions.

Personal Ranking (5/10) Eh..There’s a foundation there to build something off of, but for whatever reason it just doesn’t gel for me.

Izzy x T.K. (Takshirou)

Pros: They’re closer in age then some of the other 02/Adventure characters, and they do interact often in all three seasons.

Cons: Still most of those interactions are either plot related or group scenes. There’s not a whole lot to go off of.

Personal Ranking (4/10) I don't get why someone would ship these two, yet I wouldn’t be outright opposed to it if they did.

Izzy x Kari (Kokari)

Pros: Same pros as Takshirou

Cons: Same cons as Takshirou

Personal Ranking (4/10) for the same reasons as Takshirou.

Izzy x Davis (Daishiro)

Pros: I guess if you like the Taishiro dynamic, but not enough to break Tai up with one of his more popular ships then this could be an option.

Cons: It’s Taishiro lite with all the added problems that comes from shiping the 02/Adventure cast.

Personal Ranking (4/10) For the same reasons stated as for Takshirou and Kokari.

Izzy x Yolei (Koyako)

Pros: Of all the 02/Adventures ships this has the smallest age gap. The age difference between her and Izzy is the same a Izzy the rest of the adventure gang. As such they spend a lot of time together. They also have a similar dynamic to Mishirou, but with the added dimension of Yolei being a nerd as well. She can keep up with Izzy’s technobabble and often assists him in his projects.

Cons: Izzy does have a reduced role in 02 like the rest of the adventure gang, though not quite as bad as some. Meanwhile Yolei only appears in 02 except for like a cameo here and there. So while they do interact one on one on occasion it’s not a whole lot.

Personal Ranking (7/10) To me this has all the pros of Mishirou, but none of the cons. They’re both assertive and capable of calling out each other’s bs, but they also have a deeper understanding of one another can more in common to build off of.

Izzy x Cody (Kori)

Pros: It’s the mentor/friend dynamic again. They have a lot in common and are seen hanging out together a lot.

Cons: Same age difference as with the other mentor ships and like with Koyako they’re scenes are limited to only 02.

Personal Rankings (3/10) It’s got more of a basis then the other Cody ships thus far, but that’s not saying much.

Izzy x Ken (Kenshirou)

Pros: Uh.. It’s assertive nerd boy meets shy nerd boy, I guess? There’s also the whole former villain thing for some added angst if you want.

Cons: Not a whole lot of one on one interact and when we do get it it’s mostly plot exposition

Personal Ranking (4/10) I put this on the same level as Takshirou, Kokari, and Daishiro

Izzy x Jun (Junshirou)

Pros: It breaks all of the triangles involving both of them. They’re both fun characters. Pair the spares. They both went on that camping trip once. Comedy.

Cons: This ship is as close as crack as you can get without being full on crack. They’ve met, they know of each other’s existence, and they’ve been in the same scene together more than once. But they’ve never actually talked with one another on screen before.

Personal Ranking (7/10) I just like Jun. I don’t care who you pair her with, it’s entertaining because she’s enterianing.

Izzy x Meiko (Meishirou)

Pros: I guess if you like both characters then you’ll like this ship just fine. Can double as a pair the spares in order to resolve the Izzy/Mimi/Joe tringle.

Cons: Mei has less interaction with Izzy than some of the rest of the group. Also it’s dependent upon how much you like Mei as a character.

Personal Ranking (5/10) It’s not bad, but give me Junshirou, Koyako, or Taishirou over it any day of the week.

That’s part 2, will carry on later in part part 3

#digimon #digimon adventure #digimon 02 #digimon tri #shipping #shipping meme #digimon shipping

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halequeenjas · 4 years

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You’d Be Surprised || Alain & Jasmine

TIMING: Current PARTIES: @carbrakes-and-stakes & @halequeenjas SUMMARY: Jasmine follows through with her offer to help Alain clear up some packing clutter before grabbing some photos of his home.

Upon pulling into the driveway of Alain’s home, Jasmine had no doubt she’d be able to market this well and get it sold at a good price. Even though she didn’t like the idea of being remote in White Crest of all places, she could actually see the place as being cozy. In a like, flannel pajamas and pancakes kind of way. It appeared Alain had done a nice job restoring it as well. She could spot shoddy repair work from a mile away and this wasn’t it. All in all, this was looking like it would be a pretty good commission. The fact she didn’t feel the chilling presence of ghosts was also good. She’d still have to sneakily place wards up before having any sort of open house so Larry Bob didn’t try anything funny. Though she was a bit regretful of the fact she signed herself up for somewhat physical labor, Jasmine had decided to look on the bright side. This meant she’d be more easily to rearrange things how she’d like for staging the home. All in all, it could be worse. On the way up to his front door, she took a moment to appreciate the garden. Even as the things were starting to day away with the fall weather, there were still some vibrant shades of reds and oranges to be seen. It must have been stunning in the spring. Still looking up at the house, she gave a firm knock with her hand that wasn’t trapped by a cast and waited for indication she could come in. “Hey, Mr. Babineaux,” she greeted as the door opened, “Hope you don’t mind, but I brought along some coffee and pastries.”

“...” Alain greeted her with a tight-lipped smile as she told him she’d brought pastries and coffee. He had just made a fresh pot, and the place smelled of the pain au chocolat he had been baking earlier in the morning. Perks of being a slayer who could not go out, baking at 3 am was actually not a problem. And he liked being busy, as it stopped him from having too many thoughts crossing his mind. “Well, I always felt like there never was such a thing as too much food,” he pushed himself away from the doorway with the crutches, and led the way to the living room, where he had started to pack a few things while the dough rose in his kitchen last night. He had tried to be thorough with putting away all of his questionable belongings were they : books, weapons, or, even more questionable, a tooth or a bone he’d kept from a creature he’d killed, in case he would need it later. Even now, as he knew that he would most likely never fight again, he could not bring himself to get rid of those things. They might be of use to someone else, he told himself. Those things were just too valuable for him to throw. “You can put it down on the dinner table…” He eyed over at the cluttered table and frowned, “I mean, if you manage to find a spot,” he looked around the room to find a more suitable spot and sighed. He had never been a tidy person, but this was something else. “I suppose the kitchen might actually be your best chance. You can grab a viennoiserie there if you want,” once again, he led the way. And well, this was another room he wouldn’t have to visit on the tour of the house. “It’s not the biggest kitchen, but as you can see, it’s been put to use,” he picked one of his chocolate croissant for himself and gladly accepted one of her coffee cups. Slayer or not, he would need this much to get through this day.

The quiet greeting and the smell of baked goods throughout the home indicated that maybe bringing something had been a bad idea. As he said there was no such thing as too much food, Jasmine shook her head. “Oh no, whatever you made smells way better than what I brought. I can just bring these to the office and we can enjoy the good pastries,” she said with an ever bright and reassuring smile. In truth, she hadn’t expected someone who just lost a leg to be quite so mobile. There was definitely evidence he had been packing and clearly baking. It really did smell amazing in here. With a laugh, she blurted out, “If this is what your baking smells like, I don’t even need to bring candles. What’d you make?” She’d looked over the table and didn’t see a solid spot to set the box down. She briefly thought over how she could rearrange some of the boxes before he directed her to the kitchen. Much better. She set the box of pastries and cups of coffee down on the countertop. When she saw the pastries he made, her jaw dropped as she turned to face Alain. “You made those?” Her voice conveyed her shock. She hadn’t seen pastries that looked that good anywhere outside of France. She took one of the chocolate croissants and as she took a bite out of it, was immediately transported back to her last trip to France. “Oh my god,” she exclaimed, “These taste like I’m on vacation.” As much as she loved French pastries, she never gave them a go. Cooking and baking weren’t her thing. Her luxurious kitchen would have gone almost entirely to waste if it wasn’t for Bea. She laughed a bit and added, “Clearly it’s been put to good use if you can make pastries this good. I have this super nice kitchen in my house that my best friend uses entirely more than I ever have.” She paused to look around at the clutter that she had advised against her better judgment that she’d help clean. “So any place you’d like to start first here?”

“It does cover the smell of dogs,” he agreed. Alain had a look through the kitchen window. Speaking of them, they were messing around outside in the garden. He never asked whether she liked or were afraid of dogs. “You don’t mind dogs, do you?” Now might as well be a good time to worry about it, “I made pain au chocolat,” he said it in French, because clearly something that did not have the shape of a croissant should not have been called a croissant. “Too much time on my hands these days,” he forced himself to smile. This could not be as suspicious as spilling iron rods and salt, could it? Certainly not. And obviously he would not tell her either that his injury was far from as old as it seemed. “I’m glad you appreciate them. It’s the least I can do for someone who is willing to help me do that one thing everyone hates doing,” unpacking seemed like an even worse moment, but he was not there yet. Sure he had already seen a few houses, and he would have to pick one, but he was not there yet.

“It’s not for everyone,” he gave her a shrug. “But if you ever want to use your kitchen and need some tips, well just let me know,” cooking could get frustrating and people being discouraged was always what ended up stopping them.

Either way, she did not come here to discuss food or cooking, as much as he appreciated compliments on his baked goods. “Well, I’m done with most kitchen utensils. Only kept the essentials,” he rubbed at the back of his head, putting down the cup of coffee to lead the way back to the living room. “I’ll start emptying my closets I think. Not like I’ll need much since I barely go out,” he observed. “If you wish, you can empty the bookcases? Or if you are brave, you can wrap the things I put on the table with newspaper or bubble wrap.”

“That it does,” Jasmine agreed with a smile and a slight head tilt as she pondered how best to sum up her feelings on dogs. “I’ve never had one personally, but I don’t mind them. Always figured I’d get one once I have kids. You know, American Dream and all.” That also meant there’d be kids and likely a husband to help with said dog. As it stood, she worked far too much to reasonably have any sort of pet. She took another bite of her pastry and said, “Seriously, these are amazing. I haven’t had pain au chocolat this good since my last trip to France.” She could practically envision her favorite little pâtisserie in Paris that she’d stop at before a day of shopping. “This is definitely a good use of free time.” She finished up her pastry and opted to go for another. As much as she hated the idea of packing, she brushed it off like it was no big deal. If she wanted a nice review on her website, she’d have to remain polite and professional. Plus, the pastries did bring mentally back to vacation mode. “If favors are followed by baked goods this delicious, I may be inclined to offer more of them.” She smiled easily and grabbed some coffee to bring out to the living area with her.

“You offer that now, but you haven’t seen just how hopeless I am in the kitchen,” she said with an amused grin on her face, “But if you’re really offering, I would for once like to make something nice for our brunch days.” In part, because she knew it would annoy Bea, but that was hardly the point. It could be nice to make something for herself on a night where she wasn’t feeling like company.

When given an option for where to start with packing help, she immediately knew she’d go for the bookcase. A person’s taste in books said a lot about them and Jasmine was nothing if not nosy. “I’ll go for the bookcase, I’m a pretty big reader so that sounds like the most fun.” Given her book taste ranged from trashy romance novels to books on exorcisms, ghosts, and other spectral creatures. But hey, a girl was allowed to have layers. She began grabbing books off the shelf and started placing them in a box. For the most part, they all seemed to be older books with a focus on mythology. Interesting. It raised her suspicions, but not enough to call it out. That was until she saw a book in Latin that appeared to be about the undead that caught her attention. “You know Latin. too,” she called out with the question evident in her tone. Was he an exorcist, too? Or perhaps a spellcaster? Not too many bothered with learning the language these days. “You don’t meet too many other people who know a dead language.”

“Ah, yes, the American dream,” Alain had yet to meet someone who actually had experienced it. Perhaps if he had been born a generation sooner… “Well, as you can see, you don’t actually need to have children to get a dog, or two…” If he said it with a smile, he had a hint of nostalgia in his eyes as he thought about why he had gotten them. As a child, he never had pets, and living with Audrey, they ended up getting a dog, not even a hunting dog, just an aging one they had found at the pound. And when Frida had died, a few years after Audrey, Alain couldn’t handle staying alone and decided that he did not have to be. First came Orion, and a couple years later, Procyon. He chose them sturdy, hoping that they would be here for a while, that they wouldn’t abandon him.

Her compliments brought a red tint to his cheeks and he turned to look away, telling himself that she might not notice this way. He had never known how one was supposed to react to these. Saying thank you meant that he agreed, brushing it off would come off as falsely humble. Far from confident, the hunter prefered to look away. “I would agree. Although these days, time seems to stretch a lot. I read a lot, I used to never have time for it,” he took a long sip of coffee, and left his cup on the counter. With his crutches, it was probably the best option. As agile as he was, now was not the time to try things. “Well, I have to admit to promising pastries in exchange for help quite often,” or offering pastries in general. There were worse habits to have.

“Look, I’m sure it cannot be that bad. There’s hope in everyone, right?” Smiling back at her, Alain was headed toward his wardrobe when she asked if he could help her with brunch recipes. “Can’t have brunch without eggs benedict and some proper avocado toasts, can we? I could help with that,” he promised, sitting down on a stool as he started transferring clothes from shelves to boxes.

“Really? Well like I said, I don’t usually have time for reading, but most of those I’ve read,” documentaries for the most part, comics from France and Belgium, and a handful of classics, both French and American. “What do you like reading?” Perhaps they had books in common, who knew. Her question brought a frown to his face. Too. So whatever it was she held in her hands, she could understand the subject. Oh well, it was totally normal to have books on undead creatures, just like it was normal to carry around salt and iron. “You don’t, do you? My parents always said that it was important to know where” things “words came from.” And of course this book was an essential of latin literature. Not. Always a shitty liar. He grimaced, and looked through the bedroom doorway to see if she had moved from her spot.

As nice as company on a quiet night at home sounded, Jasmine figured she could do without the added responsibility of a dog at this moment. Between her paid job and all the ghost related research she’d been doing as of late, she didn’t quite have the time to dedicate to a pet. She opted to not explain herself any further on that front and shifted focus to how well he took a compliment. The way his cheeks turned a rosy tint was not lost on her and she had an amused grin on her face as he agreed with her. That was a good sign. If you were good at something, you had to own it. “Well, I think they’re well worth helping for. Seems like you have some pretty productive hobbies to say the least.” She supposed hers had become more so productive than fun as of late. One of these nights, her bubble baths would include Pinot Noir and a romance novel and not coffee and books on poltergeists. Reading ancient texts was hardly what one would consider light and leisurely reading.

“You say that now,” Jasmine responded with a laugh, “You haven’t tried my attempts at cooking.” Though maybe with a lesson or two, she could actually pick something useful up out of it. She did love avocado toast after all there was just that delicate stage of not overcooking or undercooking the eggs she’d yet to master. She found she enjoyed their easy conversation as well, so she added, “But if you’re offering, I’ll be taking you up on that. Avocado toast is one of my favorites. If you partake, I’ve been told I make a great mimosa.”

“Well, I love Alice Walker and Zora Neale Hurtson, so anything they’ve written is something I’ll always enjoy. I’m not above admitting I love romance novels so of course I enjoy Nicholas Sparks… everything else I read is a bit obscure. What about you,” Jasmine answered and opted to let Alain decide what obscure meant for himself. She wasn’t about to come out and say she read books on ghosts, poltergeists, exorcisms, and spectral beings. In this moment, he probably was under the impression she had her sanity intact, no need to ruin that. At least, not until curiosity took over. “Right,” she said looking at him as he peeked over to see her, “I’m sure a recount of the undead is how most people learn the basis of words.” Her emphasis on the word dead was hard to miss and she had a feeling her hunch was correct by the tone in his voice. “If this is the kind of reading you like to do, I think I actually have a few books in my collection you’d enjoy.” Maybe her own little hint that her book collection shared some similarities would put him at ease.

“I mean, I also used to do rock climbing and running, there’s nothing productive about the latter, unless you consider staying in shape someth-. Okay fine, there’s always something productive about my hobbies,” Alain corrected himself before she could. He was starting to notice that she was quite witty and quick with her remarks, and he doubted that she would appreciate not being able to be witty about this too. And now that he was stuck at home, he did have time for less productive hobbies, hobbies that he had dropped out of over the years. Tidying up his attic, he had found old puzzles in their boxes, and while it was tempting to open them to start those 1000 pieces puzzles over, he was meant to move out of here soon, and he had decided against it. He still gardened a little too. Even if he was leaving, the next person would appreciate it. He also had re-potted the plants Nell and Evelyn had given to him, as well as some others he wished to bring over to his new home. Either way, knowing that he would not go back to the cemetery unless it was to bury someone came as a relief, it was quite an odd thought to have, as he really did not want to bury anyone he knew, and yet, to him, this did not feel like an exaggeration. His level of exhaustion had just gone up over the past few years.

Alain shook his head, not willing to believe that she could be so bad. In his eyes, no one was. But if you had never been taught things, of course there were things you just could not guess. “You’re right, I haven’t, and yet I can assure you that you can get good at it. Yes, good,” just like him, she’d never be a chef, but she could definitely cook nice things. Alain, who had never been a talkative man, seemed to enjoy their conversations enough to be willing to spend more time with Jasmine. That did not happen often, but he did not regret his offer. “Avocado toasts, deal. See, you can teach me about cocktails, because I know absolutely nothing about those,” wine, he knew quite a lot about, but cocktails were not something he knew a lot about, aside from their names.

“Alice Walker… Oh I think I have her book in there, somewhere,” he almost corrected himself to add well, one of her books, but stayed quiet instead. Alain guessed that Jasmine would know which one he meant. “Oh, well you probably would love Maupassant then. Not my favourite but I read a few of his books…” His voice trailed off as she mentioned liking more obscure literature. She did not summon demons, did she? His eyebrows raised a little as she looked back at him. Clearly he had not been convincing with his interest in etymology. How surprising. “Is that so, well if you wish, I have a whole collection of books like those already in a box.” Some might have not been in latin, some others were his journals, but the choice of words was too careful for this to be completely innocent. “Alright fine, what are your favourites then? Or least favourites?” He cleared his throat. He fell silent for a few, picking up the tape to close his box and catching a new one. “I’ll start if you want, I particularly dislike vampires. Can’t trust a species that hates garlic, can we?” He scoffed, shaking his head. Well, if he was wrong, this was going to be awkward.

“I was going to say, those all sound productive. The primary reason I run is to stay in shape. Actually, no, that’s definitely the only reason I run,” Jasmine joked with a playful grin on her face. It dawned on her that having such active hobbies had to be a bummer with the whole losing a leg thing, but she wasn’t about to ruin the good mood that was going on here. Somehow the easy conversation seemed to make the fact she was packing not as annoying as it should have been. She’d almost daresay she was enjoying herself, especially as she picked one of the more interesting things to pack. As much was evident by the book on the undead in Latin of all things.

Realistically, Jasmine knew she could probably cook decently if she put some actual effort into it and didn’t hate touching anything raw, but alas, she did and always got distracted somehow. Any time they had any sort of gathering, Bea always wanted to cook anyway so she just rolled with it. Cooking lessons didn’t sound so bad though. She laughed and joked, “You must be really confident in your abilities as a teacher then. I’ll do my best to be a good student.” She had to admit, the thought of not having to order takeout or leave the house to get avocado toast was appealing. Not as appealing as having an attractive man cook her breakfast every morning, but hey, she was nothing if not independent first. “Perfect,” she said brightly, “I am pretty good with cocktails though I do generally prefer wine for myself. I do make really good margaritas. They’re a personal favorite for pool days. Different varieties of mimosas are fun and go better with brunch though.”

“The Color Purple?” Jasmine asked even though she knew that was likely the book he was talking about. It was one everyone knew, especially since the movie had come out which was fair. It was iconic. “Maupassant,” she mused, “I don’t think I’ve ever read anything by him. If you have a recommendation you’d like to let me borrow, I could do for some more leisurely reading. I promise I’m not an animal who rabbit ears the pages instead of using a bookmark.” Now she watched carefully as she questioned the subject matter of the Latin text at hand. An eyebrow raised at the mention of having more books like this one already packed up. That definitely only furthered her suspicion that he was somehow more involved in the supernatural aspects of this town. Hopefully, in a good way given she was alone in his home with him. Nothing about him screamed axe murderer so she tried to withhold any reservations. “You do? May have to check your collection once you unpack at your new home.” His next question left her unsure of how to answer until he mentioned disliking vampires. Okay, maybe they were on the same page here. Her head tilted slightly with a hint of grin on her lips. “Hmm,” she started, “I’m not very well acquainted with vampires. I’m not a big fan of ghosts though. Poltergeists in particular are a real pain in the butt. Plus, the movie was so cheesy.” It was becoming pretty damn obvious they both knew what was going on here so she blurted out, “So, I guess we both know what’s up in town then.” He could probably put together why all the salt and iron bars fell out of her purse now.

“No one is that bad,” he rolled his eyes, and with a smile, shook his head. Alain had always been enthusiastic about cooking, and while her enthusiasm about it was not his, she still seemed interested in learning. “Ah? Well if you like wine, there’s the cellar to pack later,” he offered. His collection was nothing amazing, far from it, but he had quite a few old bottles that had acquired an excellent taste over the years, and a few others that would have to wait another decade. “I had no idea there were multiple kinds of varieties for one cocktail, really not knowledgeable about those,” he admitted with a small shrug. To each their strength. “Do you think I should learn those when my new house won’t even have a pool?” His smile brightened up, and he looked back to his boxes. It took him a moment to recall what it was that he wanted to do. Ah yes, the sock drawers. Putting only one sock in the washing machine was new to him, and not something he wanted to do in the long term. As ridiculous as it may have been, he’d probably put one on his prosthetic leg.

“...Yes, that’s the one. The movie is quite nice too,” literature had been taught to him and his sister at about the same time they started to tackle more difficult vampires. Alain was thankful for the education he had received, even if his childhood had only very few fond memories. “He wrote a lot of romance, but he wrote horror too. I believe The Horla inspired the myth of Cthulhu,” he commented, as he neatly arranged socks in the cardboard box. “I think you would like Une Vie more, though.” He put the box down and moved to the livingroom to get his hands on his copy. “You don’t read French, do you?” He looked over at her, leaning against the shelf to reach over and hand her the book. If she didn’t read French, she could always have a look at the cover, he told himself, and he would be happy to read the back cover to her. Her remark about how evil it was to fold pages brought another smile to him, and another shake of his head. “I usually settle for a slice of cheese. Makes a perfect bookmark,” he nodded, as if he approved of this.

“You are welcome to stop by,” he was curious about the kind of books she might have been reading in Latin herself. Clearly they shared an interest for the undead, but the subject was broad, although the salt and iron rods made more sense now, not that he ever suspected that those were for staging a house. “That is a cheesy movie, although you never had to suffer through a decade of vampire craze,” Twilight, Vampire diaries and God knows what else. He often pretended having never heard of them because they were just unbearable. Not that he liked Dracula a lot more, but nothing could reach the level of abomination modern vampire stories did. “I suppose so. Glad to meet a ghostbuster at last,” he held out his hand as if he was meeting her another time.

Jasmine simply waved off the remark about her not being able to be that bad. Surely, with some proper effort she could make something halfway decent with his guidance. At the mention of a wine cellar, she perked up. Not only was that marketable, but that meant he had a decent wine collection. Two totally amazing things in her book. “A wine cellar,” she asked somewhat incredulously, “I definitely want to help pack that up. And you know, peep that wine collection. I’ve got a fair number of bottles myself that I’m letting age.” One was actually due to open in a few months. She had every intention of saving it for her birthday. “Oh yeah, most cocktails have different flavor variations. I’m a big fan of adding rosemary to things.” She smiled to herself as she pulled more books off the shelf and placed them into the box on the table beside her. She noted there were a lot of books on astronomy. “Pools are not necessary for margaritas. They also pair perfectly with a good number of dishes… primarily Mexican dishes, but I stand by my statement.”

“It is,” she agreed with a smile as she pulled more books from the shelf. There were quite a few nonfiction ones that seemed educational. Even though Jasmine found her body to still be a bit sore, she did like the insight she was getting on her new client here. She could admit she liked him more than most of her clients though she’d remain perfectly professional. A sale and a new purchase was entirely too good to miss out on. “Definitely prefer the romance to the horror. This town has enough horror. But I’ll have to check out Une Vie.” He’d come over to pull his copy up and she looked over the cover. Seemingly romantic appearing book in French. “Actually,” she said brightly, “Je parle et lis le français.” She took the book from him and looked over the back cover. “I make a point of going to France at least once every couple of years. Used to go regularly with my family when I was younger, too.” She laughed as he joked about his bookmark habits, “I gotta say, that’s pretty cheesy, Mr. Babineaux.”

“Thanks,” Jasmine responded and figured she may have to do just that. She shook her head over the vampire craze, “You mean, you weren’t into the sparkly stalker vampires?” She feigned shock and started clearing out the last of his books. “I never got the appeal personally. Edward? Total stalker. I don’t get how women weren’t creeped out by the whole showing up in the middle of the night and watching her sleep thing.” She shuddered a bit and added, “But yes, I’m your resident ghostbuster. Though I’d venture to say I’m much better looking than any of the original cast.” The next book she pulled down had an intriguing cover filled with stars. Cosmos. She peered over the cover and noted, “You really like astronomy, huh?” She’d open the cover to reveal a note from whoever had gifted the book. Her eyes fell on the name signing it. Evelyn. Was this the ex she’d been all sad over before? She quickly closed it despite the urge to be nosy and read the note. “I didn’t realize you know Evelyn,” she blurted out without quite meaning too. Tact outside of basic business professionalism had never been something she had much interest in. What was the point in not saying what you meant? He’d seen her glance at the note. There was little reason to hide her curiosity.

“It’s nothing special, the house was a farm in the past,” Alain explained. And the cellar possibly had other uses then. His carrots and potatoes seemed to also live forever in the darkness of that room, and that was something he would miss. He would have to purchase a wine cave for his new house as he doubted his new basement would have the same quality as his cellar. “Really? That’s nice ! There are not a lot of people around here who seem to care about wine. I would have to say that being raised in a French household where they serve wine to kids did not preserve me from becoming interested in this,” it did not happen at each meal, but he remembered that he and his sister had always had a bit of wine or champagne to have a taste, as apparently, any self respecting French had to develop a palate for wine tasting early on. “Rosemary? I have a bush or two in the garden if you want to take some home,” he offered with a raise of his shoulder. He was really going to miss this place, he thought to himself, nostalgia drawing his eyes toward the doors that led to the garden. He stared in the distance for a moment. “Mexican food? Not my speciality. Tex-mex I’ve done a bit, but nothing authentic,” he scratched at his cheek as he thought of more recipes he might have tried, but he mostly cooked French, American or South Asian cuisine.

“Ca m’apprendra à juger un livre à sa couverture,” quite proud of his pun, he gave her a bright smile, letting her have a closer look at the book. Alain listened to her speak of her travels to France, and told himself that she truly was a woman who was full of surprises. Of course, he wondered, curious as ever, how many other secrets she hid up her sleeves, and while he was eager to know more, he did not want to appear as odd or rude, and so, he remained quiet. “I have not gone in a few years,” he wondered when he would ever go back. With his new expenses, travelling would have to wait a little, and he really did not see the point of doing so until he was completely mobile. Hiking was always part of his trips and he could not quite do that now. “I’ve been told I can be quite cheesy, yes, I know,” he had a small smile.

“No problem, we should trade information, although I might not be able to physically help in a little while,” he glanced down at the missing limb and could not help but frown. He just could not get used to it, and he felt less for it too. After spending his whole life trying to look and seem normal, there was this relique of his past that would always remind him of who he really was. “I’m afraid so, never been too fond of glittery things. Excuse me,” he left the room for a moment to go get some coffee in the kitchen, from there, he spoke louder, “I think some people like the idea of having someone watching over them, but this is a bit too literal if you ask me,” he had not read those books, and from what he had heard about them, from her and others, it was not like he was missing much. Moving back into the living room, he stopped by the dinner table to start sorting the mess, watching her take his astronomy books out one by one. “Oh, yeah, I have always liked that. Been part of the astronomy club for over two decades,” he admitted with a smile, that faded as he noticed which book she was holding. “I did not realize you knew Evelyn either,” he replied, perhaps a bit too fast, and wishing he had said something else instead. There could not be only one Evelyn in town, right? He could have said something like that. And yet the blank look on his face told a lot.

“The fact you’d even think to have a wine cellar is special in itself,” Jasmine responded with a hint of awe in her tone. At first glance, she wouldn’t have thought him the type of man to have a wine cellar though maybe the last name should have been a giveaway. Paired with the baking and book collection it all tied together nicely. He was a man with good taste and she could appreciate that. “Oh yeah, typical small town that way. We’re not exactly in a wine region. Growing up in a French household, it’s be like sacreligious if you didn’t have good taste in wine. I just travelled a lot from a young age so I had a chance to develop a proper appreciation for good wine.” She’d gone to a lot of wine tastings as an adult as well. Maybe in part it was a pride thing, but she enjoyed the wine and learning about it all the same. At the mention of fresh rosemary to take home, she perked up a bit. “Really? If you don’t mind, I’d love some.” She found herself genuinely smiling and remarked, “There’s some decent Tex Mex here, nothing particularly noteworthy, but they have a good Taco Tuesday. All of those sound delicious though.”

“Oh yeah, I’m full of surprises,” Jasmine said with a bit of a laugh. Clearly so was he.

They were all pleasant so far at least. It did leave her wanting to learn more about him though she supposed they’d have plenty of time for that if he held to his word on the whole cooking lesson thing. It already surprised her that she found she was looking forward to it. Cooking of all things though she could be honest with herself and admit the company played into it. She could pick up on a bit of wistfulness in his voice. It was evident he was going to miss his home and she could hardly blame him. Though a bit small, it did have a welcoming feeling to it. His leg injury must have been fairly recent, but she hoped he’d be well enough for travel soon. “I went this past spring,” she mentioned without thinking, “I did bring home some wine I may feel inclined to share during that cooking lesson.”

“Well, you do have my card. Though you’re not the only one out of commission for a bit,” Jasmine answered calmly, barely biting back the urge to ask how he’d lost a leg. Knowing his distaste for the undead, she could almost piece it together anyway. No need to make him relive a bad and likely still fresh memory. “I prefer only my clothes or shoes to be sparkly. Not my men,” she joked as he excused himself to the kitchen for more coffee. Her eyes glanced over the note again. What were the odds it was the same Evelyn? The handwriting seemed vaguely familiar which only led her to believe her hunch was correct. She called out as he spoke, “Okay, I get being watched over can make someone feel safe… but not when the person doing the watching literally let themselves in through a window. That’s just stalking. Nothing romantic about it.” God knows she’d whack the hell out of someone who came into her bedroom or home uninvited. The astronomy was much more interesting though she hardly knew much about it. Alain really had some interesting hobbies. “Hm,” she started, “I like looking at the night sky, but couldn’t tell anyone much about it.” She watched the smile fade from his face and mentally cursed blurting out her question about Evelyn. “Small world,” she said coolly as she tried to brush the whole thing off. “I helped her find her house, too.”

Jasmine had no desire to linger on the clearly awkward topic, so she piped up, “Why don’t you show me that wine cellar of yours? The books are pretty much good to go.”

“Oh, well,” his brows furrowed as he tried to reflect on how many people he knew who happened to own a cellar or a cave for wine. There weren’t many. Alain’s eyes shone a bit brighter, the wrinkles at the corner of his eyes another hint of him being pleased with her company. Things were rarely so easy, and he wondered when things would turn sour, as things always did. But for now he had decided that he enjoyed her company and if she enjoyed his as well, even though knowing of him being a hunter, then perhaps things would not go sour, as they always do. Still, she was pretty spot on about the French and why this place didn’t have many people who cared for wine, and he nodded in agreement. “That’s pretty lucky indeed, I look forward to sharing thoughts on the subject,” he agreed with another smile, reaching out to grab the bubble wrap and start cutting pieces to wrap plates and other items. “Please, I just hope whoever buys my house will not tear it out,” he had a frown at the thought, as he saw himself, many years ago, getting started on that damn garden. The whole parcel was abandoned then, covered in what seemed like the remnants of a potato field. The hours spent clearing it all up, and the first flowers, the first fruits and vegetables, brought a smile to his face. In his nostalgia, there was happiness too, and there he was beaming like an idiot as he reflected on this episode of his life. It was not much, but it was his and that was all that mattered. Having made the recent choice of putting himself first at last, Alain was learning slowly, that it was those little moments that had made him truly happy, those when he was himself.

Her laughter drew him out of this stream of consciousness, softly. “Never been fond of surprises, but some are actually nicer than others,” his hand reached for his cheek again, scratching at it as he thought about it some more. He just could not wait to get to start new things at his new house too. The place did not need much work, but he probably would still bother with a fresh coat of paint here and there. Unpacking, installing, settling in, those were things he was excited for. Perhaps he just wanted to think about anything that did not concern his leg, or perhaps it was something else, but he did look forward to it, as much as he was already counting the time he had left in his beloved home. “Oh, that’s quite recent,” he considered her offer with a raise of his eyebrow, which he followed with a grin. “I think I can agree to that, although making the teacher drink is not very conventional of you.” Amused, he looked back at his bubble wrap and noticed that he had not gotten much done. Talking and working at the same time, when you were not used to it, was one hell of an exercise.

“I suppose that’s one way to put it,” he did not ask how she actually hurt her arm. As far as he was concerned, those injuries were so common for people like them, that how did not matter as much as why. You could not afford making the same mistake twice. Besides, he could guess what had happened easily, as there must have been a hint of truth in what she had told him, back at her agency. “And I prefer no sparkle in my life,” he did not mind it that much, although he had never had to use any in his life. Otherwise, he would have been aware of how terribly hard it was to get rid of, much like the mara who haunted him for weeks, if not months. The image of someone climbing through the window to watch him sleep just drew him back to those fearful days, and he was thankful when she changed the subject. “Astronomy is something I’ve enjoyed ever since I was a kid, so I’m afraid impressing me with your knowledge on this is… going to be a challenge,” the conversation once so light had gotten more tense with her question, and he was relieved to see her change the subject. “This way please,” he agreed, trading his bubble wrap for his crutches once again, and leading the way.

#wickedswriting #alain #you'd be surprised

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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years

Text

Survey #349

“we’ll meet again, when both our cars collide”

When was the last time you had a PopTart? It's been many, many months. Do you like hot chocolate? Well duh. Who made you laugh the hardest today? I haven't really laughed today. Who was the last person to promise you something, and what was it? Hmph. Would you ever jump into a fire to save your bestfriend? I know I would. Do you have a callus from writing too much? No, I only have calluses on my feet from when I used to walk for hours on end. They just never permanently went away, even with grooming. Who is someone you’ve made a bad first impression on? I dread to guess what the girl Jason dated after me was told about me. I shouldn't care at all, but I do. I have every reason to accurately be defined as "the crazy ex," and I fucking hate it. Who is your best guy friend? Girt, a friend from high school. Do you read cereal boxes while you’re eating? I did as a kid, but now I don't. I just kinda stand and eat. What’s the last thing you accidentally (or purposely) burnt? I kinda burnt the roof of my mouth on pizza the other night. Do you know anyone with a lip piercing? Me, haha. I know others, too. What did the last tattoo you saw, look like? I don't remember. Have you ever given birth? NO FUCKING THANK YOU. Do you enjoy making out? I mean if I'm in the mood to and I love you, yeah. Why exactly do you take surveys? "I genuinely like doing them and they’re great for venting and sorting out thoughts and whatnot. I can just ramble and get things off my chest." <<<< This right here covers it. As well, it's just a boredom killer. And I happen to be bored very, very often. Rockband or Gutair Hero? Both are great, why choose just one? What are you listening to right now? Halocene's cover of "Helena" by My Chemical Romance. It's beautiful. What kind of energy drinks do you drink, if any? None, because I just can't do energy drinks. They taste like pure poison to me. Have you ever been swimming in a river? No. Swimming in a river sounds pretty dangerous... Does your alarm clock wake you with music, or with an annoying buzz sound? Music. When you broke stuff in the house as a child, did you blame it on siblings? I'm hoping you don't mean breaking deliberately, 'cuz I wasn't that kind of kid. But anyway, I don't believe I did. Did you make it all the way through the Oregon Trail game? Yes. I was obSESSED with those games as a kid. Lions and tigers and bears, oh my! Which one are you more scared of? Tigers, probably. They're so stealthy and, while I may be entirely wrong, seem like the top candidate of the three to attack a human, be it for food or defense. And have you SEEN the muscles on a tiger? Christ. Describe the best use that you’ve found for duct tape: Uh, taping things lmao. Do you wrap gifts or use gift bags? I use gift bags, because I can't wrap for shit. What fast food place do you avoid at all costs? Arby's is really gross to me. Are you afraid of deep sea creatures? Just giant squid... *shudders* Have you ever agreed to purchase something on Ebay and got scammed somehow? No. I did, however, purchase something on deviantART and never got the product. It was going to be a present for Jason. In dA's defense though, I've bought like... two or three other things from there, and there were zero issues. It's really about the people you trust. If you get a call that says “Unknown”, do you answer it? Nnnnope. Do you have any bobble head figures? No. Have your parents ever left you somewhere without realizing it? I don't think so. Have you ever been in a tanning bed? No. Did your last kiss mean anything to you? Well yeah, I wouldn't have kissed her otherwise. Would you say that you have a nice smile? No; I've been self-conscious of it since I was a kid, mostly because one of my eyes looks more squinty than the other, but they both are to me. I've always said I look high when I smile lmao. Is there an ex you want to make up with? My mind immediately screams "Jason," but I know that's a horrendous idea. Our last talk ended peacefully and even with care and good wishes, and I need my fucking impenetrable head to accept that's where it needs to end. He does NOT need to re-enter my life. It would be so bad for me. Do you remember how you felt on 9/11? I have no memory of it, if I'm being honest. What outfit makes you feel the most attractive? None. Other than yourself, who knows you the best? Really? Whoever reads these lmao. What’s one complaint that you have about school? Common Core and how every student's school experience was not tailored towards their unique goals. Like they try to cram a shitload of identical and usually useless information into a kid's brain to make them a jack of all trades, you could say, but not enough information they need to properly pursue their career future. It causes such an unnecessary amount of frustration and stress. I have many, many complaints about the education system, but this one tops the list. What do you do while you’re on campus but not in class? Back in college, I would just do stuff on my laptop. Do you know anyone who has Autism/Asperger’s syndrome? Yes. Are you open to a same-sex relationship and why or why not? Well, considering I'm bisexual... Do you remember life without the internet? No. Have you ever found yourself to be ugly? I've gone my entire life thinking I'm ugly, if I'm being real. What is your state’s minimum wage? $7.25 a fucking hour. :'''''') Is there something you want to say to someone but can’t/won’t? There's a few people. What is your first memory of being in a hospital? Considering my mom worked at the local hospital when I was a kid, I remember being there quite, quite young, playing with my older sister in Mom's and her coworkers' room. I think Nicole was too young to really "play." Do you have any relatives with red hair? No. What is something good that has happened to you in the past week? I got my first Covid vaccine. My arm hurts like a motherfucker now, but to protect my mom, it's worth it. Please get vaccinated. How much was the rent/mortgage at the cheapest place you’ve ever lived? That's never been my business. Have you ever been to a gay pride parade? No, but I would go to a local one if I could actually walk five feet without being in serious pain and sweating like a pig. Do you still keep in touch with your very first best friend? We're friends on Facebook, but that's it. What was the topic of the last conversation you had with your dad? I can't remember, but it was recent, because we all met at Ashley's house for Nicole's birthday celebration. How often did you visit your grandparents when you were growing up? Pretty much never, given they all lived no less than like, 10 hours (via car) from where we lived. My immediate family are the only people in NC. When two family members are fighting, what do you usually do? Stay out of it, but admittedly try to listen just to know what's going on. Do you like the smell of men’s cologne? Yeah. What’s your all time FAVORITE freezer food? Do you eat that a lot? I survive off of microwaveable freezer food, so this is very hard... uhhhhh... perhaps this Banquet bowl meal that's mac 'n cheese with spicy chicken. It's absolutely delicious, like you'd never guess that sucker was just popped in the microwave. I'd say I eat it a moderate amount; it's a reliable option if Mom's not cooking and I'm really hungry, because it's super filling. Do you like documentaries? Have you ever watched one and find it boring? I enjoy them, particularly when they're about animals. Were you ever a fan of macaroni & cheese? Do you like Kraft dinner? Ha, speak of mac 'n cheese. I love it, and Kraft makes it fine. Do you burn incense? Not as much as I used to. I love the smell and just general vibe, though. What would you consider an unacceptable first date? Going to a bar or something. Have you ever been so sick you had to be taken to the hospital? In the head, anyway. Is there anything currently bothering you? Multiple things. Would you say that you’ve got something ‘special’ about you? No. Do you like things vampire-related? I don't really have an opinion on vampire stuff. Are you the kind of person who does not like talking about their past? I don't care. Have you ever been to a casino? No. What’s the last thing you wore a costume for besides Halloween related events? Back when I still took dance classes and we had the yearly recital. What does your father do for a living? He's a mailman. What’s the last app you downloaded on your phone? Haha, I re-downloaded this ollllldddd game I had before, Nyan Cat: Lost in Space (or something like that?) for my niece to play. She's hooked on it now. Are you in any discomfort right now? Yeah; as I mentioned, my arm really hurts. What do you know the most about? Of all things I know, almost certainly meerkats. Are you seeing anyone? No. Have you ever hooked back up with an ex, just for sex? Was it a mistake or no? No. Have you ever gotten in trouble for using a phone in class? No, because I didn't use my phone in class. Have you seen all the Shrek movies? No, which is a fucking crime. I need to see the last one. Have you ever finished a whole video game? Plenty plenty plenty. Do you know anyone with a pet snake? Yeah, myself included. If you had to live in an extreme environment — think Sahara, Antarctica, under the sea, on the Moon— where would you want to live? Why? Probably Antarctica. I'm sure it would be unpleasant, being that cold, but I feel there's more you can do about being cold than being in the scalding heat of, say, the Sahara. Living on the moon or in the deep ocean sounds super sucky. How was your day overall? It's been okay. Not as bored as usual, at least. How many people of the opposite sex do you fully trust? Like... zero. I want to say my dad, and I almost do, just... nightmares make that very, very difficult. Plus his past. What does your mom call you? Normally just "Britt." Write a sentence in another language: Oh god, my German is so rusty... uhhhh... Hallo, ich heiße Brittany, und ich bin 25 Jahre alt und wohne in North Carolina. I think I got the grammar right? Have you ever sent an X-Rated picture to someone? No. Even if I was comfortable with my body, I would be way too paranoid to at any point have a naked picture on my phone, even if I deleted it. Like, hello blackmail, but also, nothing you delete is ever really gone permanently. What big city do you live near? Raleigh is like an hour away. Do you like breaded chicken sandwiches? omg YES Is there a Sonic in your area? Yes, it's my favorite fast food joint. You have GOT to try the pretzel twists with cheese dip. Have you ever gone to a thrift store? Yeah, I love 'em. Do you think Johnny Depp is attractive? I do. Are you happy with the state you live in? No, not at all. I hate this place. Bunch of homophobic, racist rednecks. How many times have you seen the opposite sex naked? It's not like I counted every time I saw my ex naked over three and half years lmao. How many times have you seen the same sex naked? A few times. When days go by, do you cross them off on the calendar? I don't use a calendar. Are you currently counting down to something? If so, what? MY TATTOO APPOINTMENT!!!!! :''') I know I can't stop talking about it, but ugh I'm so excited. May 19th, c'mon already. Do you pay rent to your parents? No. Do you dye eggs for Easter? I used to as a kid. Not so much anymore. Are you in debt right now? For what? Oh god, I don't want to think of this. Would you ever work night crew? I really, really wouldn't want to. Humans are diurnal for a reason. Being awake in constant darkness would depress the fuck outta me, and it'd feel so lonely, with everyone I know asleep. Who was the last person that lied to you, or that you can recall lying to you? What did they lie about? How did you find out they were lying? I don't remember. Has anyone ever called you ugly, straight up, before? How did you react to this? No, not to my face. Who is the most stubborn person you know {excluding yourself}? MY MOTHER.

#survey #surveys #questions #lyrics: ''helena'' by my chemical romance

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