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chipper-smol · 3 years

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Hollow Knight Telephone Round Two: Relic Coffee Shop

Prompt

Prompts:

1: Lemm finds an odd fellow at the Blue Lake. Normally he wouldn’t bother to approach a stranger out of nowhere, but something in his gut urges him to take action. Quirrel, feeling the effects of age on his body, stares incredulously at the bearded face of a stranger who apparently wants to have him over for coffee. 2: Lemm sets up shop in an abandoned cafe. It’s roomy and pleasant at first, but there are _stacks_ of these disgusting old bitter coffee beans clogging up the rooms. It doesn’t help that bugs keep coming in to order a drink even though he’s posted signs to _KEEP OUT!!_ However, once they start offering Geo be begrudgingly takes it as an opportunity to achieve funds to pay for relics. 3: At first, the coffee was just an excuse to get Geo to pay for relics, but Lemm’s begun to notice that bugs who wandered into his shop with the telltale early symptoms of infection no longer have them on their return visits. He tells himself he’s not an altruist. He’s _not._It’s just a waste to throw out old coffee when someone just needs a pick-me-up.

By @bluwails

------------------------------- By @hydrochlorinate

“Just don’t. Tell. Anyone. Else.”

Those were the words that came out of the grumpy barista’s mouth that fateful day. One’s that you completely ignored, as you had already been drinking what could only be the drink of HIgher Beings, with just how heavenly it tasted.

Grinning like a lunatic, you give him 45 geo, not a small sum. If anything though, it was hilariously cheap for a drink that was this good. The bug doesn’t complain about the amount though, so he’s probably fine with it. Wings fluttering in excitement, you leave the shop, ready to tell any remaining survivors about the amazing drink shop you just found.

===============>(Coffee Shop AU)

The next time you come in, the store is absolutely packed. Denizens from all across the ruins of Hallownest are here, ranging from some uninfected moss knights to that one ladybug that you had a dance off with a while back. There's even a noble here, and- is that a mantis?

Anyway, it looks like your very subtle method of giving publicity to this cafe by talking about literally nothing else to whomever you talked to over the following week paid off. Good, this place deserves all the atte-  “You.”

Oh? You snap out of your thoughts, and look towards the counter, where the barista is levelling a glare at you that could instantly wither those delicate flowers that have been spreading around recently.

You stroll on up to the counter, a grin stretching across your face. The barista narrows his eyes.

“Didn’t I tell you to keep this a secret? Why is my establishment filled to the brim with bugs? Who are these people?!”

...huh. Did he tell you to keep it on the down low? It seems in character from your limited interactions, but you don’t remember exactly. Oh well, time to play it off. You tell him that, well, what can you say except you’re welcome.

You’ve never seen a bug go from “Irritated” to “Ballistic” as fast as this barista. Usually they make a stop at “Angry” or “Absolutely Livid”.

“YOU’RE WELCOME?!?!”  No, see, he’s supposed to say thank you.  “THANK YOU???”  You tell him he’s welcome, before laughing. No, really, you tell him, look around, the place is packed! Business is booming! The barista (you should really ask for his name) manages to bring his volume under control, taking in a deep breath.

“That’s part of the problem. I’m a relic seeker, not a-” He gestures around the cafe, as if looking for the right words to use. Barista, you suggest.

“Exactly. I’m not made to brew coffee-” Oh, that’s what it was called. “-or to be dealing with customers all day long.”

Sure. That’s why he decided to allow people to keep purchasing coffee, or why he decided to put on a cute green and white visor.

You didn’t just come to check in on your new favorite bug though, you have coffee to order! Taking out a sheet of paper from your bag, you begin to read out both your order, and those of your companions. Even with the end of the infection, the leftover damage to hallownest’s caves and architecture makes it dangerous to travel alone.

As you begin to read out your order, the barista shifts from crotchety old bug to attentive worker. You really wish you had come back earlier, instead of letting some of your other traveling buddies pick up the coffee for you. Something about the atmosphere here is… relaxing, despite the amount of people.

After your order is finished, you leave the cafe. Back to the real world bucko, as an old friend of yours would always say.

...Wait a minute you never got the barista’s name.

===============>(Coffee Shop AU)

It’s been 3 weeks. You think. Time gets a little funky down here, what with the sudden influx of void. Sure, most of it has cleared out by now, but every so often your exploration party comes across a tunnel that hasn’t quite been fully illuminated, the shadows just a bit too thick to be natural.

You enter the coffee shop again. It’s gotten a lot quieter as time went on and bugs started coming in on a schedule. There’s still plenty of other customers here, but it’s nowhere near as packed as the first couple of days. Lemm (yeah, you finally got his name) stands at the counter, still slightly disgruntled, but a lot less so than he was at the beginning. In fact, he’s actually talking to someone right now! An actual conversation too, not just an exchange of witty remarks. You can’t see their face, but they appear to be a pillbug wearing a blue hood.  As you step up to the counter, you can hear their conversation a bit better.

“...of course, I couldn’t just leave it sitting there right? So I move to pick it up, only to find out that the desk I dropped it on was magnetized! So here I am, trying and failing to pick up this one plant hanger for a solid 10 minutes.”

They both laugh at this, before noticing you. The unknown bug turns to face you, allowing you to see his mask.  “Oh, hello, I don’t believe we’ve met before!”

You greet him back, introducing yourself.

“It’s nice to meet you. My name’s Quirrell. I’m… well, I can’t really call myself an explorer, because I’ve already been everywhere! I’m more of a wanderer, really.”

Ahh, a free spirit, you see. You point out that just because he’s been everywhere doesn’t mean he’s seen everything. After all, who knows what could’ve gone down during Hallownest’s peak. Both Quirrell and Lemm get amused by this, for some reason. Seeing your confused look, Lemm decides to speak up.

"He probably knows more about Hallownest than everyone here, having lived here since before the infection and all."

Your eyes widen, and your wings begin to flutter. Truly? An original denizen, and not someone else trying to piece together its history? Quirrell waves off the words, though.

"I wouldn't go that far…" He begins, but Lemm cuts him off before he can go any further.

"Hah! Next you'll be telling me that you weren't the head assistant of the kingdom's best scientist!"

Giving off the equivalent of a blush, Quirrell rubs the back of his head. Lemm turns back to you.

"I'm sure you didn't come in just to chat, though. What can I get for you?"

It's nice to see him making friends.

------------------------------- By @schyrsivochter

Lemm wasn’t a sociable person. That was a fact. He wasn’t good at talking, or at being friendly. (It wasn’t like he needed it, anyway. It had been a long time since he’d enjoyed conversing with another bug.)

No, Lemm was much more of a person for reading. Deciphering the journals of the long dead, the writing and languages, was something he thoroughly enjoyed. Other artefacts spoke differently: the materials from which they were made, the way they were worked, the artistic style. It was a different kind of reading; some might say a more figurative one. But it was just as interesting.

Of course, architecture was part of that. It had not been a coincidence that Lemm had set up camp in Hallownest’s abandoned capital. When he’d arrived, he hadn’t dared to think that he’d ever finish exploring and finding new things. And it was true; he’d only explored a little bit before he’d realised that collecting and gathering relics was no use if he never took a proper look at them, instead letting them gather dust on the shelves, the tables, and the floor of the long-abandoned shop he’d moved into. So he’d decided to stay there, poring over his collection. His picture of the world of Hallownest in times past grew ever more detailed, more complete.

He’d opened the shop because people did not seem to stop wanting to sell him relics, and it never hurt to appear a little professional. And it had been a reliable source of new artefacts; new knowledge. He’d never sold anything, of course. His collection was his, and his alone.

And then came the dark. The cleansing void. It had taken him by surprise; he’d been working, and only noticed that anything was amiss when the light dimmed and he was finally bathed in darkness. He must’ve fallen unconscious at that point, and there’d been no telling how long it had been until he’d awoken. It hadn’t been until later that he’d learned that this was what had obliterated the plague, leaving in its wake hundreds of confused survivors and thousands of dead. No, the next thing to happen that told him things were not as usual was that a bug had come in, asked if he was open, and, upon his affirmative answer, asked for a hot drink, holding out a piece of ten.

Taken by surprise, he’d offered to make tea. He’d immediately regretted it, since it meant the bug would be staying for a while, probably without selling him relics, but it was easy enough to do and would get him geo, his supply of which had been running low. So he put a kettle on and took the money. The bug had thanked him profusely, while he had elected to remain quiet.

Not long afterwards, the same bug and four others stood in the doorway. Whether they had relics for him, he’d asked. They’d looked amongst themselves, and one had asked, ‘Is this not a coffee shop?’

‘I suppose it might’ve once been,’ he’d said. ‘Now it’s mine.’

More confused looks and standing around, and then the bug he’d seen before asked if he’d make more tea. He’d said no, not unless they paid him twice as much as the last time and stayed quiet and didn’t disturb him in his work. To his horror, the five bugs had agreed, and so he’d dug out cups from the coffee shop’s former stock and afterwards found himself a little richer in geo but with a significantly worse mood.

He had his peace afterwards, though. At least for a while. Now a bug had arrived, taller than the others, wearing a headscarf. Lemm had mentally prepared for the bug to ask for coffee, but the bug had halted in front of one of the tables that Lemm had repurposed for his collection of relics.

‘Admiring my collection?’ Lemm asked.

’Yes, quite!’ the bug answered, chipper and friendly. ‘I’m curious how you managed to get a hold of so many texts in such diverse languages! These are journals, are they not?’

‘They are,’ Lemm acknowledged. ‘From all over Hallownest.’

‘But most of them aren’t any Hallownest language.’ The bug put a hand on his mask. ‘I suppose they’re from travellers that came to the ruins and perished?’

‘Quite right,’ Lemm said. He had to admit, begrudgingly, that the bug standing before him was sharp and knew his history. A trait not many others shared.

‘Can you read all of them?’ The mask turned towards Lemm, inclined in question.

‘No,’ he answered truthfully, making his way around the counter to stand next to the bug. ‘I haven’t had the time to decipher all of them yet. But I’ll get around to it eventually.’

‘Interesting,’ the bug said. ‘I can—huh?’

He turned towards the entrance, and Lemm followed his gaze. Lemm was about to ask what the problem was, when a bug appeared in the entrance. The one that he’d made tea twice for. Ah yes, he thought. A customer. Two of them, in fact; one of the others from before had joined the one who’d taken a fancy to paying Lemm to make tea.

‘I don’t suppose,’ Lemm said, ‘there is any way to convince you to find tea somewhere else?’

The bugs shook their head.

Lemm sighed, and muttered an apology to the tall visitor. Time to get it over with.

He went to the back room to prepare the tea, and overheard the two visitors conversing in the front.

‘What’s this, anyway?’

‘Historical documents. Journals of travellers.’

‘What’s it doing here?’

‘I think the shopkeep collects them.’

‘That’s correct!’ Lemm called. ‘I’m always buying, if you have anything of historical value.’

He grabbed the cups and walked back to the front. ‘That’s fifty geo. Unless you have relics.’

The bugs complained under their breath, but paid up, and Lemm could direct his attention back to the visitor.

‘So is this what you do?’ they asked. ‘Opened the coffee shop again and collecting relics in your free time?’

Lemm was dumbstruck for a moment. Then he remembered to be outraged. ‘No! I am not opening this place as a coffee shop! People just keep coming and demanding tea and I cannot let an opportunity to earn easy money go to waste!’

‘Relic business not exactly booming, then, I assume?’

‘I’m—’ he spluttered, ‘It’s not a business! I don’t sell my relics, they’re mine!’

‘So you wouldn’t have any income if you weren’t selling tea?’

Lemm had the distinct impression that the bug was making fun of him. He didn’t answer, but simply walked up to the table, grabbed a random journal, and took it to his desk to try and get some work done.

He had not yet prepared his quill and ink when he was interrupted yet again.

‘You know,’ the visitor called, ‘that one is from a traveller from Greynest. Came here looking for his brother, never found him. No doubt said brother also perished in the ruins.’

Lemm turned around to see the bug standing in the doorway, having followed him halfway. ‘And how do you know this?’ he asked.

The bug shrugged. ‘I read it.’

Lemm regarded the bug. They didn’t seem to be joking.

‘You mean to tell me,’ Lemm began, slowly, ‘you know this language?’

‘Yes,’ they said nonchalantly. ‘I think I’ve been to Greynest? Must have been a while ago.’

‘Are you a traveller, then?’ Lemm asked. ‘You don’t seem the type.’

As soon as he’d spoken the words, Lemm became aware how utterly ridiculous it was of him to make observations about people. He didn’t like people, he wasn’t interested in people—

The bug laughed. ‘I am, in fact. I have travelled far and wide.’

‘Hmph,’ said Lemm, unsure what else to say. He turned back to his work, looked at the angular shapes carved into the stone, but now it seemed senseless to try and make sense of it when he knew that it was no mystery to the bug standing behind him.

At some point, he looked up and found that he was hungry and the visitor was gone. Oh, well. Time for a meal, then, and afterwards he might be able to find something else to do.

* * *

The next time the tea-drinker returned, they asked for tea and then asked Lemm about the relics, and he was in a favourable enough mood to talk about them. They asked some fairly stupid questions, but it seemed to come out of a genuine interest in the topic, so he indulged them. Plus, he had to admit that he enjoyed having a reliable source of geo. Not that he needed it much for buying relics, these days, but he supposed that his supplies of food – and of tea – would not last indefinitely, and he didn’t particularly fancy having to go back to scavenging, now that there were actual people living in the vicinity again. No, he’d rather find some place where he could buy what he needed fair and square.

The traveller with the headscarf returned, and it was an odd sort of feeling Lemm had about them. Like he actually liked having them in his shop and talking to them. And the perplexing thing was that the bug also seemed to enjoy conversing with Lemm. Which one one hand was absolutely preposterous, on the other … it was a refreshing change.

The bug introduced himself as Quirrel, apprentice to Monomon the Teacher, and Lemm could hardly believe it. Monomon the Teacher, one of the most brilliant minds of Hallownest? It couldn’t be! And yet it was not all too difficult to imagine. He’d seen stranger things in these lands.

Quirrel also was the one who later suggested Lemm officially open the shop as a coffee shop again. Lemm had thrown him out at that and gone back to work.

Now, a short while later, he looked up and Quirrel was back, standing at the counter, watching Lemm silently.

Lemm rose and went to the front, choosing to stare back equally silently. Lemm was good at that. Probably.

‘So,’ Quirrel said at length, his voice still as annoyingly friendly as ever, ‘have you thought about it?’

Lemm kept staring.

Quirrel held up his hands. ‘You need money, you don’t have much else to do, and besides’ – Quirrel shrugged. – ‘people like your tea.’

‘I certainly have enough to do,’ Lemm started. ‘These texts don’t decipher themselves. What’s so funny?’

Quirrel stopped his giggling and said, ‘They sort of do. Have you forgotten who stands before you?’

‘You don’t read all of these languages.’ Really, Quirrel’s ego was getting on Lemm’s nerves.

‘But most of them,’ Quirrel said, shrugging, ‘and most of the Archive’s records are intact. And we do have a nice section on language and writing.’

Lemm was silent for a moment, mostly because he could not think of a good comeback. Quirrel had a point, and Lemm did not like that in the slightest.

‘Let’s make a deal,’ Quirrel said. ‘I help you translate your texts and catalogue your artefacts, and you’ – Quirrel jabbed a finger in Lemm’s direction – ‘you sell your tea officially.’

‘Out of the question.’

‘You’re already doing it.’

‘I am not!’

‘Yes, you are.’ Quirrel said this with absolute certainty and no anger, and there was a voice at the back of Lemm’s mind that said: You really sort of are. And you could use the help. You don’t like the busywork anyway.

‘All right,’ Lemm grumbled. ‘Deal.’

‘Thank you,’ said Quirrel, audibly grinning.

‘I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?’ Lemm asked under his breath.

‘I don’t think so,’ Quirrel said. ‘I’m curious – what else can you make? Tea alone is a bit boring, don’t you think?’

‘Shut up,’ Lemm said, ‘or I change my mind.’

* * *

Lemm did not change his mind, even though Quirrel didn’t shut up. It had been a while, and Lemm hated to admit it, but he enjoyed doing something different for a change. Customers were now plenty, and Lemm had a menu with more than one item, and his relic collection was no bigger, but more orderly and better understood than it had ever been, thanks to Quirrel’s – and the Archive’s – help.

Another thing that Lemm was not quite ready to admit was that people could be nice. The more he talked to customers, interacted with them, observed them, the more he began to appreciate them. He used to be content in reading historical texts and artefacts, preferring to learn about people that were dead and gone. Living bugs had never really interested him.

Nowadays, however, it seemed that people could be just as interesting to read as anything else. And, as Quirrel entered, greeting him, and he could not help his mood being lifted just by the prospect of learning something new and interesting that Quirrel learnt on his last trip to the Archive, Lemm supposed that sometimes, very rarely … people were something he could enjoy.

------------------------------- By @gardening-clown

------------------------------- By @buglife

Lemm was five seconds away from throwing someone through the window.

His shop was now occupied by five bugs of various species, talking, laughing, and sitting around when he could be in the back doing literally anything else. It took weeks of bugs thinking that his relic shop was a coffee one before he simply gave up and made peace with it. At least he got some geo from it to pay adventurers that did come by to sell legit relics. How they mistook his shop for a coffee one, he would have never guess.

All he had was a little brewer that was barely put back together that he scavenged from some random shop, but other bugs seemed to like it, for some strange reason. It wasn’t even good coffee he was making, but they seemed to accept it. After all, who else in this dead kingdom was even selling coffee? He had looted plenty of shops and took as many sacks of beans as he would when he first arrived, and there was no way he could drink them all, so he might as well do something with them.

But he was steadily losing his patience with the amount of bugs around him. They were talking and loitering. Loitering was probably the worst of it all as it made the loner bug feel his shell crawl with the forced social interaction. He just wanted them to leave. He couldn’t stand the feeling of a crowded space, which is why he went to a dead kingdom in the first place.

Hell, he had to take his beloved odds and ends down from the shelves to keep some curious bug from touching them all up with their dirty fingers and breaking something.

He found himself dreading the sound of the bell above his door, and when it rang he wondered if someone else was coming to ask him for some random drink or be an annoying thorn in his side.

To his hidden delight however, it was the little wanderer. They looked like a grub, to be honest, with a black body and a stark white horned shell for a head. The nail on their back seemed to be a little put together the last time he saw them, perhaps they visited the Nailsmith? He never asked for their name, he didn’t want to learn it to avoid attachments, but he found them oddly endearing. They liked to listen to him ramble about his theories on various relics they bring him, so they can’t be too bad. Plus they were quiet and polite, something he was immensely grateful for.

They bounced inside the door and came to a stop, looking at the five other bugs sitting around and chatting. They tilted their head to the side, watching the bugs for a moment before looking at Lemm. They stretched out a stubby arm from under their cloak and pointed at him.

Lemm sighed. Of course, the little Wanderer had been gone for a while, and obviously didn’t know what had become of his beloved shop. He gestured for them to come over, which they did and looked up at him expectantly.

“Bugs keep thinking that this is a coffee shop.” He explained. “So here they are, drinking coffee that I make on a terrible little brewer. I gave up trying to kick them all out all the time, it stopped being worth the effort.”

The little wanderer blinked a few times, looking somewhat confused. They pointed to the cup being held by the beetle on one of Lemm’s chairs and mimed the action of drinking it.

“Yes, that’s coffee they are drinking.” He raised a brow as he looked down at the grub. “Haven’t you ever seen coffee before?”

They shook their head.

“Really now? Hrm…” He wasn’t sure where the little wanderer had come from if they never saw coffee before. It was a fairly common drink besides tea. They must have grew up in a rather isolated place If they never saw it. He decided he might as well explain it, it would be better to do it now than later.

“Coffee is a drink that bugs like to drink to give them energy.” He saw them perk up a bit at the ‘energy’ part. “It’s rather bitter, so some like it with sugar. I like it plain. It keeps me awake when I am working.”

They somehow made a face when he said it was bitter, tilting their head and angling their eye holes to look affronted. Lemm squashed down a laugh at the expression and decided to get to business.

“Anyway, they trade me geo for it, which lets me compensate bugs that get me relics. Do you have any for me today?” He hoped they did, he needed something to brighten up his day.

The wanderer nodded, reaching under their cloak to pull out a black orb. Lemm recognized it immediately to be an arcane egg. He loved working with those. Peeling back each layer revealed new information and new discoveries. He was in fact, still working on the one he got weeks before. He needed to be careful with them, and he reveled in the intense focus and work it needed to discover it’s secrets. His day instantly got better.

“Very nice, I’ll be glad to take that off your hands for the usual price.” The old beetle held out his hand and the wanderer gently placed the egg it in. They held up a hand once it was free and shook their head, pointed to a cup sitting on the counter.

“Ah, you want to trade this for a cup of coffee?” He wasn’t going to say no to that. If the wanderer was okay with it, it was a perfectly reasonable business transaction. His suspicions were confirmed when they nodded and bounced in place, looking as excited as they were able to. “Well I can certainly do that.”

Thankfully, the two bugs occupying the chairs in front of the counter left, leaving behind their dirty cups and a few geo for the mess. They thanked him and he grumped out a ‘have a good day’ as they left, seemingly indifferent to his mood. Oh well, at least it brought down the occupancy to a more manageable level for his social batteries. He pushed the dirty cups out of the way and gestured to an open seat. “Here, sit down and I’ll get you a cup.”

They bounced upwards to take a seat, swinging their legs back and forth as they waited. It didn’t take Lemm long to throw some ground up beans and water into the grinder, watching the brewed coffee pour into a clean cup. He carefully carried the hot cup down and set it in front of the wanderer. “Be careful, it’s very hot. I’ll bring you some sugar, you didn’t seem to like the ‘bitter’ description.”

They nodded and watched as he pushed over a bowl of honey sugar and a spoon. It was the least he could do after they got him another arcane egg. “There you are, help yourself.”

They bowed their head in thanks and took up the spoon, poking it into the bowl.

“Excuse me,” One of the bugs by the window got up, the one with a bent antenna and holding their empty cup. “Could I get a refill, please?”

Lemm held back a sigh and nodded, taking the cup and heading back to his brewer. He had to smack it a couple times for it to start working again, but in the end he got a passable cup of coffee out of it. He returned just in timed to hear said bug exclaim, “Woah there buddy, you must really like sugar!”

He looked to the wanderer, who had added so much sugar to their cup of coffee, that he could hear the sugar that couldn’t dissolve scrape against the ceramic as it was stirred. It looked like fresh cement, there was only a bit of brown to denote that once, it was indeed a cup of coffee.

He wordlessly handed the other bug their coffee, who took it and retreated back to sit by the window. He was about to say something to the wanderer, when to his horror, their head tilted backwards. A maw of sharp black teeth opened wide, and he watched, astonished, as the mix of sugar and coffee oozed into their mouth and to who knows where. A long black tongue lashed out to get every last bit of sugar out of the cup, before the mouth closed with a quiet click. They must have felt him staring, because they turned to look at him with their fathomless, dark eyes. He stared back, wondering what the hell was actually sitting in front of him.

They then bounced in place and gave him a thumbs up. They made a shape of a heart with their hands, a way that they say ‘thank you’. They seemed rather happy.

“Um…you’re welcome?” He managed, after he gathered his composure again.

They sat still for a moment, seeming to ponder on what they had just consumed. He figured that they were probably trying to figure out if they liked it or not. He doubt they even managed to taste the coffee from the sheer amount of sugar in that cup.

Then, to his horror, they began to vibrate. At first it was a few twitches, and then it steadily became more and more severe, until they were a literal blur. The chair rattled under the stress and the bugs that remained in the shop turned to look at the commotion.

It was then, Lemm realized he fucked up.

They suddenly dashed away, slamming into the shop door with such force that it caved outwards. There was only the short sound of shattering glass and the scream of metal before it flew off it’s hinges and rattled down the hallway. He could hear the hurried pitter-patter of the wanderer’s tiny feet, now fast enough to blur into one continuous sound, race down the hall and out of sight and hearing.

He just stood there, looking at the wreckage of his shop door, wondering where the hell is he going to get a replacement, if there even was a replacement. He looked at the three shocked bugs, standing and looking at the wreckage, and then he got himself an idea.

“Hey fellas,” He said, as he turned and looked at the bugs next to the window. “How would you all like some free coffee if you find me a door?”

------------------------------- By @radical-mudkips

------------------------------- By @unregisteredcookie

Lemm's 'shop' was empty.

Actually, no, that… that wasn't right. Lemm's shop wasn't a shop in the first place--it was a haven for relics and ancient knick-knacks, and the shelves were filled to overflowing with stone tablets and peculiar eggs that held unimaginable information. Not that Lemm was ever able to crack into the eggs' shells, but he knew--he knew there was more treasured information sleeping beneath. If only he were able to open it up without risking that information being damaged.

And that wasn't right, either. The shop being empty, that was. Right now, the shelves were empty, but that was less because of the absence of relics and more because they were all stowed away in the back room to be sorted. He had a notebook he was combing over, quill in hand as he scribbled out little bits of information that might relate to one another.

'Might', because Lemm wasn't really from Hallownest. So he didn't know for sure whether this smooth L-shaped contraption was a door handle or a piece to a lost work of art.

It was while Lemm was scribbling about in this journal bound in parchment (hand-made and flimsy, using the paper he found around the area that was clean and allowed to dry) that he heard it: The distant clattering of the elevator. There were about seven options he could think of off of the top of his head, each more dreaded than the last. It could be that scarcely-seen Nailsmith who seemed to know more about the history of this ruin than he let on. It could be the peculiar little silent bug that stared up at him now and again, the one that sometimes passed by with a relic to sell. It could be that talkative windbag, droning on and on in his droning voice, so grating and persistent that Lemm struggled to ignore him. He was probably the worst.

Lemm stopped writing, tilted his head, and listened for the telltale sound. The rattling stopped, and all that he heard for a while was silence. And then.

Ding.

He sighed, getting to his feet. A customer it was, then. How delightful. Here's hoping that the customer wasn't 'Zote the Mighty'.

He had a small moment of dread when he saw the horn, a critical blow of dismay that tempted him to retreat back into the back room and pretend to be out for a walk, but then he saw the second horn and breathed a sigh of relief. Oh, it wasn't the Zote person after all. It was… them. The other little one.

They looked up at him as he approached the register and looked down at them. Their eyes were vacant as ever, face impossibly unreadable. Lemm doubted that he'd ever get used to it.

Lemm liked this little bug, if for no other reason than they were quiet, kept their hands to themself, and brought him relics to purchase. They were the only one willing to sell these relics, and they were the only reason Lemm often said what he said next.

"Cup of coffee, or looking to sell?"

He never had much company in this place until the Nailsmith (Lemm never caught his name, never bothered asking, really) first came in looking for materials for his smithing. Almost took one of Lemm's Pale Idols from under his beard while he was noting in his journal. After the initial yelling that followed and a cup of coffee, the Nailsmith apologized by paying for the cup. And he did it again. And again. Until the mapmaker came in, saw, and bought a cup himself. Until the hooded pillbug came in, hummed, and bought one for himself. And then--

Well. And then he had a coffee shop.

Lemm wished he could say that he hated it, and he did, at first. But over time, he found the company rather pleasant. Besides, the geo paid for this little bug's relic collection well enough, so he wasn't complaining.

So. Did they want a cup of coffee, or did they want to sell their relics? Lemm didn't get an answer. Instead, they looked around at the empty shelves for a moment before turning their empty eyes back onto him, tilting their head to the side slightly.

It took Lemm a moment.

"Oh, I moved the relics into the back room," he said. "I've been needing to work on sorting them out and writing notes about them. Never would I have thought that I would have so many to study."

Satisfied, they reached into the confines of their cloak. Lemm leaned forward a little, watching as they rummaged about for a moment, heart skipping a beat as he pondered what sort of relic they were going to sell this time.

And then they withdrew their small hand, reached up, and dropped a fist full of geo onto the counter.

Lemm blinked and stared at the geo for a moment. Something wispy and thin clung to them, and when he picked it up and opened the register, it was sticky. Was this webbing? Lemm wasn't aware of there being any spiders in Hallownest, aside from maybe that red-cloaked bug he saw very rarely flitting about outside his window.

So. No relics today. Fine, at least he'd have more money to buy another one later.

"One coffee coming up," he murmured, rummaging around behind the counter. Underneath the register was where he kept the coffee pot, which he refrained from moving just so he could be prepared if a 'customer' came by. He busied himself with it for a few moments, filling the filter and checking the water, before clicking the button and letting it steep. Granted, he didn't know what kind of coffee they'd drink, but they didn't make it clear anyway, so he doubted that it mattered.

Besides. They seemed a little preoccupied by something else at the moment. After a few minutes, the coffee was finished, and Lemm poured them a cup. He chose a caramel-like flavor, because they seemed about the size of a child and a little bit of sweetness never hurt anyone. Lemm reached over the counter and held it out to them, which they took in their hands and stared down at for a moment. Lemm was about ready to head back into the back when it happened. A crack. It almost sounded like something breaking, but when he turned to look behind himself at the small knight, they still stood there. Another crack, one that made his fur stand on end and his body stiffen, and Lemm caught the glimpse of something sharp and white shifting beneath the bottom of their mask.

A mouth?

They tilted their head back. A jaw opened. Many layers of teeth glimmered in the dim light, cracking as they did so, the noise chilling him through his chitin and making his hemolymph freeze. Lemm stood there, stock still, as they lifted the cup up to their face, jaw extending outwards to drink it, and then-- --they set the scalding hot coffee in their mouth, cup and all, closed it, and crunched.

Lemm had never seen a bug eat a cup of coffee before. He could still hear the crunch, crunch, crunching, muffled and quiet and growing quieter, noise sounding like a particularly crunchy tiktik being eaten.

Lemm shuddered. When the knight looked back at him, he turned around quickly and went into the back room.

Okay. Suddenly they weren't the second most welcome sight for sore eyes. Suddenly Lemm wished that it was that talking, yapping Zote fellow who came in instead.

------------------------------- By @doodle-chris

------------------------------- By @payasita

There was no shortage of open real estate as far as the City of Tears was concerned. But that certainly didn't make every option an equally viable living space.

First, Lemm wanted something enclosed away from the rain, and insulated enough to stave off the humidity. That discounted anything open to the outside, as he wouldn't risk his relics to even the threat of exposure. A leaking roof dripping down onto crumbling tablets or fragile spider silk could devastate hundreds of years worth of history, so that also discounted any room without a few protective floors above it.

Next, it had to be out of the way of any and all shambling husks and infected critters. They weren't the brightest of creatures, so a room only accessible by elevator was ideal. He'd never seen anything plague-cursed have enough wherewithal to operate one, and the noise of it would give him plenty warning of visitors otherwise.

Lastly, he wanted someplace with plenty of shelf space. He needed little in the way of actual living space, so long as he had ample storage room set up in such a way that things could easily be organized.

All of these qualities described, in his opinion, the ideal relic storage and research dwelling. And in the end, he was lucky enough to find it.

Unearthing the previous tenant's belongings informed him that it also, apparently, described the ideal setup for a small café. On his first day in his new residence, he'd uncovered an antique coffee machine and a few other ancient tools, kept miraculously free of rust and wear. The room's conditions must be far better than he thought.

He'd dusted his findings off and set them back up on the counter, having quickly deduced where they'd once been put to use through old nicks and rings left on the shellwood by years of service. Lemm had felt a small swell of pride at finding this small bit of the city's history, and began a set of notes on his theories about this tower complex and its surrounding culture from everything he found around. Perhaps the whole place had been a shopping centre.

On the second day, he pried open the crates in the back room, and they had spilled forth bags upon bags of beans and teas. There were so many of them that he was able to rationalize cutting one open and examining its contents without much guilt. The beans were coffee, that much was obvious at a glance.

Biological samples weren't exactly his area of expertise, but smell and texture alone all but convinced him that they'd been perfectly preserved in their airtight prisons, well dried and perfectly edible.

Most likely.

For the sake of research, and because the bag was already open, he put them through the machine. He committed some time to studying the machine beforehand, as he was afraid mishandling it may destroy it. But an hour of trying to figure the damn thing out was frustrating enough that he finally reasoned that if he did break it, he could at least take it apart and examine its insides for anything interesting. Lemm was a relic keeper, not a tinker. So he winged it with a bit of rainwater and the beans, and got wet beans and hot murky water all over the counter to show for it. He figured out the grinder and filter after his second attempt, and by the third, he had a mug of fresh coffee to show for his efforts. The scent that filled his shop and the outside corridor must have been nothing Hallownest had experienced in centuries. Lemm had little taste for the stuff himself, but in his experimentation he'd gone and made a whole pot. So he supposed he needed to acquire a taste for it rather quickly.

Luckily for his health, that turned out to be unnecessary. The smell, perhaps amplified in the ever-present petrichor, quickly attracted guests of the still-living variety. There turned out to be far more travelers and treasure hunters bumping around this old city than he'd initially expected, prone to tucking himself away in solitude as he was. Introverted or no, he happily gave the coffee away rather than waste it or risk giving himself a coronary. There were even a great deal of disposable mugs stacked away that just made it all the more convenient.

Just over the course of an hour, Lemm was graced with a fair amount of odd characters intruding on his doorstep. There was a surly fellow wielding a metal shield of some foreign make, who announced his intentions towards finding and conquering Hallownest's old colosseum. He was convinced it was still in operation somewhere. Lemm decided that if it was, the place was more than likely not populated with the sorts of honorable warriors this poor bastard was looking to prove himself against, but he kept his thoughts to himself and sent the boy off with a steaming cup of acrid bean water. Next came another traveller who gave off a more scholarly air than the first had, and who carried a more conventional weapon at his hip. The pill bug certainly acted more like a student than a warrior, all bright-eyed and curious and talkative. But no doubt he must know how to use that nail of his to have survived this far down and still be so cheerful. His stay wasn't entirely unpleasant; the two actually talked a short while about Hallownest's history and their shared learnings. The bug even tried to insist on paying, but Lemm was adamant that his reliquary wasn't a damn breakfast nook, thank you, keep your geo. But if he really wanted to pay, Lemm would certainly take any interesting artifact or trinket the bug happened to pick up on his travels. They eventually came to an agreement: A journal pilfered from a shrine somewhere in Greenpath for an extra cup for the road. Lemm's next visitor was, of all things, a cartographer. This one was far too involved in his work for much conversation, which was fine by Lemm. But he did manage to barter a cup for a map of the city. It was incomplete and bare of any landmarks, much to Lemm's disappointment. Finally, an odd little wanderer walked in almost soundlessly. They did not speak to Lemm, nor did they give any indication that they were here for any specific reason. But they had acquired an old city crest and a King's idol on their path, and Lemm had a more typical exchange of geo for relics with them. And then because it was the last of the coffee in the still warm pot, and because the little wanderer did not refuse, he sent them off with a cup on their way out. Thankful to be rid of all the blasted coffee and done with the uptick in social interaction, he then washed the pot and continued with his normal studies. It was nice and quiet, now.

But then the next morning, the pill bug returned. And he was surprised (and clearly disappointed) to see the coffee pot empty. It was a shame, he'd said. For he'd gone and found himself another journal, and considered a relic he couldn't use for a hot morning's drink to be a fine deal indeed. Lemm was inclined to agree, for how it saved him his geo in case of a more potentially significant find down the line. He turned the machine back on at once at the prospect. Unfortunately, he didn't know how to brew just one cup, and was still rightfully intimidated by the old, fussy contraption, and not inclined to mess with what worked. So he made another full pot, and talked shop.

The pill bug wasn't the only one to return that day. The would-be gladiator came back, still not having found his destination, and had the gall to just expect another drink. After the deal he'd just made, Lemm was feeling markedly less generous than he had been the day before, and informed his nasally guest that he'd have to barter something old and interesting for it.

The ant grumbled and left, but returned a few minutes later with a guardsman's crest. He'd apparently seen old treasures all over the place, but had found it beneath him to go and pick them up." A warrior has no need to weigh himself down with baubles," he'd sneered over his cup. Lemm privately thought that the plague-crazed beasts who were doubtlessly running the colosseum now would soon show this haughty kid what they cared for his warrior’s creed in due time, so he said nothing.

The silent wanderer came later. This time when they held up an ancient journal, they made no move to take the geo held out to them. They only stared at Lemm, with their little mask so perfectly unmoving he could easily think them a sudden corpse. Then his hand drifted towards the pot, and the creature set the journal down on the counter.

"...News of a relic keeper bartering goods for coffee has already spread among your lot, then? I suppose even wanderers must have a rumor mill," Lemm talked to himself while pouring their cup. Predictably, they padded away without an answer, drink in hand. Lemm would soon learn how right he was.

- The coming days were more lucrative than his business had ever been. All the travellers he'd met before all came back with various oddities found around Hallownest, as did anyone new. Though not everyone quite understood what constituted a relic, and Lemm had to turn down more than a few shiny rocks and petrified lake detritus. But they all got the routine down soon enough. And, well, Lemm did have an extraordinary amount of coffee that'd just go to waste for another thousand years otherwise, so, may as well.

The pill bug, Quirrel, came to be his best "customer", though Lemm would be twice damned before he ever said the word aloud. Either way, Quirrel often stayed long enough just chatting to warrant a second cup.

"I ought to have you bring double the treasure," Lemm griped once while handing that second cup over. Quirrel's response was a good natured laugh.

"Perhaps elsewhere, that'd be fair. Coffee was a luxury in some lands, and remains so to this day, but by my understanding it was quite in abundance here. Though I couldn't tell you where in the world they must have been growing it," he mused. Lemm raised a brow, wondering once again where in gods' names this bug was educated. But as asking would be an invitation to hear his life story, Lemm deferred.

"Is that right?" he asked instead, "I don't care for the stuff myself, luxury or no." "Really? Not an uncommon opinion, I suppose. I picked it up as a habit at one point... Though, I couldn't tell you when, now that I think of it," Quirrel trailed off, adjusting the oversized mask over his head. Lemm found it an odd choice of protection from the rain, though he supposed it was better than nothing. He only shrugged, "I hear many students do make a habit of caffeine. Your sorts can never get enough hours out of the day."

Quirrel stared at him for a brief moment, and then huffed a laugh again. "Student? You mistake me, sir. I've only ever been a traveller for as long as I can remember."

Lemm didn't bother to mask his surprise, and Quirrel's eyes crinkled. "You're right on that second part, though. So much to see, and never enough time." He took a sip.

The mapmaker came back one day with an order for two drinks. He had no relics, but offered an extra inkwell and quill instead. Lemm found equipment for keeping good notes was lucky to come by, and reluctantly made the trade, much to the old bug's gratitude.

"Thank you, the second is for my wife running our shop surface-side. It was her suggestion you might want materials for your research."

Lemm cleared his throat, blustering slightly under his beard.

"Ahh. Hm. I can appreciate that, then."

"Oh, on that note, have you any sugar you can add in for her?" The bug peered over Lemm’s shoulder, which rankled him for some reason.

"...I did find a jar back here somewhere, I think." Though he couldn't promise it was good. Could sugar go bad? It still just looked like white sand.

"Thank you. ...Err, actually, is that a box of tea on the shelf, there?"

Lemm paused in his rummaging, and looked back at the open storeroom door. The room now made a good home for his relics, though he never bothered unpacking the open crates.

"...It is," he eyed the bug neutrally.

"Ah. Iselda enjoys her coffee, though I quite prefer a good cup of tea myself. ...Erm, if it isn't too much trouble, of course," the bug grinned politely over folded hands.

Lemm, to his credit, did not sigh. There was indeed a kettle back there, too. And at least he knew how to brew tea without making an entire day's worth of it.

He brought up the jar of sugar, and leveled the bug with a grumpy look.

"Fine. But next time, you bring relics."

The cartographer acquiesced immediately, and that was the point where Lemm realized he'd invited them both to expect a "next time".

The silent wanderer came back again, on the tail of a group of treasure hunters who came in and left up the elevator. Shortly after, there was the sound of struggle above them.

This had become commonplace. Anyone who showed up had to contend with the violent husks above and beyond the shop, and some were more prepared to deal with the dangers of Hallownest than others. Lemm only poured the wanderer's cup in bored silence, tuning out the thumping and shouts above. "You know this stuff stunts your growth, right?" Lemm asked flatly. The wanderer only ever stared.

"Dehydrates you, too. You active types probably ought to stick to water. Imagine having to deal with the horrors of rotting sentries and whatnot with a diuretic sloshing about in you." Unbothered, they leaned forward and took their cup in both hands, still staring up while he spoke. Lemm honestly had no idea if they even understood him, and considered the possibility that their muteness was compounded by a language barrier. But they at least always made the effort to appear attentive.

There was a thundering crash above them that made Lemm flinch, and then a silence that kept him tense. The voices started up once again after a few seconds, and the sound of footsteps hurrying away as fast as they could. By his guess, his last customers had just had a very close encounter with a belfly. He'd likely not be seeing them again.

He turned his attention back down to the wanderer with a sigh.

"...Let me see what you have, then."

The tiny thing set their cup carefully down by their feet, and fished a genuine void egg from the depths of their grubby cloak. Lemm was struck with the brief impulse to give them the entire coffee machine for it.

There was a new visitor one morning, just as Lemm brewed the pot for his regulars. He rarely got anyone so very early, and was guiltily nursing his own cup of acrid sugary heart disease before anyone would be around to see. Alright, so he'd acquired the taste for it. It was hardly unreasonable with how much time he spent around the smell, and it helped him make up for lost time studying his relics later in the night. Perfectly understandable, and so he definitely did not freeze mid sip like he was caught in a crime when the door opened unexpectedly. The red-clad stranger who walked in wore a wicked-sharp needle slung across her back, and fixed him with an even sharper gaze.

"...I hear you sell tea." Her voice was quiet enough, but cut clear without the normal hesitant lilt of a question.

Lemm slowly put down his mug, and the soft thunk it made against the countertop sounded awfully loud in the morning lull.

"...I don't sell anything. I buy," he insisted.

The altogether frightening lass glanced between him, the full coffee pot, and the kettle sat next to a stack of assorted loose leaf teas. Then back at him.

He grunted, hiding an inane flush of indignation behind another swig of his drink.

"...I seek artifacts. Relics of this place's past, and anything that may help me understand it, for geo. ...Or for a cuppa, for those who'd rather." He shifted behind the counter, nearly trailing off into a mumble. But at this point, there wasn’t much use in fighting his reputation.

The girl just scrutinized him until she seemed to come to a decision. She then turned and left without saying anything else, opting to hop down the elevator shaft rather than waste a moment calling the lift.

Lemm rolled his eyes and gulped down the dregs of his coffee, vaguely annoyed. By this point, he was used to the rude and half feral sorts of vagabonds that only came by out of curiosity. At least she was quick about leaving.

All the better for him, as far as he was concerned. He doubted such a young thing would have anything of note to share with Hallownest's foremost historian.

#telephoneknight #hollowknight #hollow knight #RelicCoffeeAu #lemm #tiso #ghost #quirrel

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hjh-ceilo-monster · 3 years

Text

Dear letter... To you... (KTH)

Summary : There was no connection between these two strangers accept a letter in one’s hand.

Story inspo : a story from a wedding

Author POV.

*click*

The camera captured the scene of an empty alley. It was just another ordinary day for everyone to wake up and start their routines. In this little town, almost everyone knew each other-despite a few unfamiliar faces who might appear around the street.

Kim Taehyung was one of them, a wanderlust soul. He found this little town not long ago on a travel site. Visiting this beautiful and classic area for a week, he could tell that he fell in love, even if; there was nothing much to attract a large group of tourists.

*click*

Taehyung snapped another shot. This place was nothing but calming for him. He took a turn at a random corner and met with a local restaurant. Taehyung opened the wooden door. The bell shimmed as a signal of a new customer.

“Good day sir, what would you like to order?” Taehyung looked above the waiter for a menu.

“Any tradition dishes?” Taehyung asked. Every dish seemed to look the same since there were no note up on the board.

After having description from the waiter, he decided his dish. A waitress, who finished preparing a table, gestured Taehyung to take a seat.

“What would you like for today?”

The door opened and closed from time to time. Taehyung was still in the restaurant and enjoyed his meal. He looked through a photo album. He was so busy with his camera without noticing that someone approached him.

“Sir, can this lady have a seat here? The restaurant has no seats available at the moment.” The waitress interrupted him. Taehyung didn’t look up, but nodded as an answer.

— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —

Taehyung POV.

I felt like I was acting rude. However, I didn’t know how to start a conversation with the stranger either. I sat in silence and continued to play with my camera-taking the picture of the lake outside the window.

A glance at the person, but I only met a journal book. The person behind the book was so focused on the paper. Drawing or writing? I looked at the actions and kept those questions in my head.

I then put my attention back into my camera. I snapped a few shots and checked them. I did it again and again like a loop, not caring for the stranger who sat opposite me.

And both of us continued sitting there in silence.

“Have a good day miss.”

I looked up and met with an empty seat. The loud bell sound then appeared out of nowhere. I assumed that might come from a clock tower nearby. I checked my watch and gasped.

“I’ve been here for hour and a half already?” I started packing my camera and some postcards that I didn’t finish writing.

The moment I stood up and stepped toward the door, one of the waiters stopped me. He handed me a piece of brown ripped paper and a postcard.

“These aren’t mine.”

“It was on your table, sir.” I didn’t care about it that much and put both into my pocket.

‘What a tiring day.’ I thought to myself. I strolled down the eat part of the town today. The beach was nice. I could feel the breeze wash over me and left a fresh sea salt scent.

“What could it be?” I picked up the thing I got in the morning. Inspecting the handwriting, it must belong to that stranger. She surely had a neat yet unique handwriting. I assumed these were a part of her journal.

There were a few translucent color dots on a paper. She spilled something? She painted? I flipped the paper and searched for any clue to find her. Fortunately, there was something.

“Interesting.”

— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —

Author POV.

2 years later

“Any meeting?” Taehyung asked his secretary to check his schedule. He had been busy for awhile after his father stepped down from the position.

“Sir, you have a meeting around…” His secretary reviewed his schedule.

“For the project, we have an appointment with the artist in the evening.”

The secretary closed her iPad and left him in the elevator. Taehyung went up to another floor before he left. He then stepped into his office.

“Sir, the artist arrived.”

After he ended the call, he stepped into a metal box. The door closed and the digital screen ran a set of numbers as he went down.

“Here is the copy of their plan.” Taehyung received the file and scrolled through the plan. Checking the details, he decided to wait for their presentation.

Everyone stood up and bowed to him as a greeting when the glass door slid open. He took a seat and the others followed.

“Shall we start?” When he asked, a woman stood up from her seat. She walked toward the screen that had already prepared the presentation.

— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —

Y/N POV.

‘Here we go.’ I thought to myself and the glass door slid open.

The CEO stepped inside the room. His every step echoed in the room-making my heartbeat went faster. When we all took our seats, I then noticed his feature. He looked young, probably around my age. His posture was calm yet intimidate.

“Shall we start?” Ok, y/n, you got this. I stood up with confident. I tried my best to look calm. If anyone could read my thought, they would know how nervous I was.

I started by explaining my inspiration a little bit before moving on to the concept and its details. It was nerve-wracking since the guy stared at me throughout my presentation. I felt him monitoring my moves, and that made me anxious.

“Is there any question?” Now, time to face the real anxiety.

I was right. He then started asking millions of questions about my idea.

The scribbling sound was loud and clear. I was now sitting in the CEO’s cabinet. He noted down the details while I explained. He dismissed everyone from the meeting half an hour ago since their working hour was end.

“Have we ever met before?” He asked a random question out of the blue.

“I..I don’t think so.” Why did I stutter?

I saw him smiled a little. Did I say something wrong? He knew me before? I was sure that I didn’t meet him before. My forgetful self started recalling his face.

“My secretary will contact you for our next appointment.” I nodded and stood up-ready to leave.

“Oh, can you leave your personal contact? In case, we have to call you for the urgent work.” I then left him my personal contact and left the place.

— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —

Author POV.

With the contact you left a week ago, Taehyung always messaged you. Even if it was about work, you were a little puzzled. Is it common for that huge interior company to let the boss directly contact any worker (even though you weren’t his employee directly)?

The clock was ticking. The sky gradually changed its shade. Everyone continued working on the job as usual. Taehyung was so busy surfing through the site and gallery of the artist. Lucky that he had his own office because if someone found him smiling like an idiot in front of the screen right now, they would think he was weird.

“I’ll see you soon.” He spoke to himself while looking through your work.

After Taehyung met you, to say Taehyung was head over heal into you wasn’t an exaggerated liar. He was even more obsessed with you when he saw your handwriting. He got his answer that you were ‘that’ stranger.

“Why are we here today? I thought we are going to work on the project.” You and Taehyung got closer after a week of him messaging to you unstop about work (A/N: *Ahem* work you say?)

“Well, this is also work, is it not?” His boxy smiled plaster his face.

“At the art exhibition?”

“Yeah, because I want learn about them. It can help me better understanding what you are doing and fuse them into my collection as well.”

— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —

Taehyung POV.

‘Is that excuse work?’ I looked at her face. She seemed to not catch my real intention. I still put on my signature innocent smile-using it to persuade her.

“We better to be hurry then. Today we also needed to buy my equipment.” I succeeded. She entered the place without asking any further.

I snapped many shots when we were inside. She was so passionate about the exhibition. I usually preferred a peaceful atmosphere while walking in the exhibition hall. However, the way she kept talking about each piece of art, I didn’t find it annoying or boring.

“You seemed to be into this piece. Do you want it to be the main pantone of your collection?” I got out of my head and nodded. She then chuckled lightly.

‘Ah, I embarrassed myself, didn’t I?’

“Ok, we should leave then.”

We were here for a few hours now. She was lost in her world. When she picked the colors, she wouldn’t forget to ask for my comment. If I approved, she would be happy. Her eyes glowed thousands of lights. I couldn’t help but stare. She was indeed passionate about our work.

‘Our?’ When I realized that I used that word, I somehow felt a tingle feeling inside.

“We can get out of here soon. Do you think this is enough?” I snapped back to reality. I then met a cart full of art tools.

“I think these will do.” I emphasized the word these to remind her that it was enough.

“Sorry, I picked them for personal purpose as well. Hope you won’t mind.” I gave her a disbelief look while she grinned.

“If you mind, you can cut it from my salary.” She pouted and wheeled the cart.

‘Cute’

— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —

Author POV.

Little by little, you fell for Taehyung. It was a feeling that gradually develop without your notice. By the time you realized it, you had already established your status with him.

“And again, you bring me to somewhere out of our schedule.”

“And you like it as always.” You rolled your eyes and entered the restaurant.

Entering a familiar elegant restaurant, a waitress led you both toward the VIP table. Guess who booked that?

The waiter then approached your table and left the menu on the table. He stood there and waited patiently for your order. You finished ordering your meal in the blink of an eye since you only had one fav dish. However, for Taehyung, it took ages to order.

“Why is it so quiet today?” You asked. You glanced around the floor and saw no one other than your table.

“Oh, I booked the whole floor today.” Taehyung answered it as if it was a normal thing to do.

“You did what?” You looked at the guy with a shocked face. He noticed your expression and chuckled.

— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —

Y/N POV.

This was unbelievable. Why on earth did he need to book the whole floor? I had no idea of what was on his mind. Being close with Taehyung, I learned one thing. That one thing was sometimes you needed no rational thought to do something.

The quiet atmosphere then got replaced when a musician started playing some tunes. The soft melody filled the air.

‘He is up to something?’

I monitored his expressions and actions, but I didn’t get the answer. I couldn’t keep the curiosity any longer. I opened my mouth to fire out the question.

“Please, enjoy the meal.”

‘Lucky you, Tae.’ A waitress interrupted me before I could ask. Both of us started eating our meal.

I felt the meal was more delicious. Is it because of the atmosphere?

— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —

Taehyung POV.

‘Phew she didn’t ask anything yet.’ I thought to myself while eating the meal. Thanks to that waitress, she didn’t get her chance. I didn’t want her to know my surprise just yet.

Curious right?

Today, I booked our favorite restaurant to discuss on the work like always. It looked ordinary until here. Now, the surprise plan will start.

I signaled a waiter who stood beside. He knew that it was the time for the special menu. Waiting for a bit, a box finally landed on the middle of the table.

“Open it.” I ordered her. She gave me a suspiscious look before carefully opened it.

*gasp*

“And that is your answer.” I spoke. I knew what she was about to ask before our meal arrived.

— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —

Author POV.

“That was such a lovely story. I could see ladies in the venue look jelous at you both.”

Wedding day

The MC spoke. Taehyung give his signature smile. He isn’t shy about it. You can tell that he is bragging your story to the audience.

“And I told her about the letter. I still remembered how she was surprise and then her face flush. It was really cute.” The audience awe at him.

“Ok, we will now moving on to the surprise of tonight.” Taehyung glance at the MC. He remembers that the next thing is throwing the bouquet.

“You didn’t expect it, did you? Since you gave me such a surprise that day, I am going to give you one today.”

You look at your husband who look so lost. You chuckle at his expression before 2 staff step on stage with a gift. They then hand it to him and you wait for his reaction.

“Oh my god.” He looks shock when he tears off a wrapper. It was a sketch of him from the day you met him.

“So is this why you didn’t have any conversation with me or even look at me?” He smirks and teases you.

“There are more.”

The MC now hand him a box which is much smaller than the first gift. He shakes a few time after recieves them. When he know that isn’t going to help him to guess, he open the bow.

He gasp so do the aucience. His eyes filled up with tears. His hands are shaking. The MC take the little gift out of his hand and show it to the audience. The audience go wild. The cheering and whistling sound echo in the venue. You then grab the mic and speak.

“Congratulation my dear, you are going to be papa.”

Author note : This story was inspired by the story from a wedding of my friend’s cousin. Her cousin met his bride because he found her note. Their story then began. My friend told me the groom’s comment about the bride. “I thought the handwriting was beautiful. When I finally found the owner, she was more beautiful.” It sounded cheesy, but that was their story. I hope you enjoy this one. See you in the next os.

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rendezvousroger · 5 years

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Sonder (Ben Hardy x Reader)

Summary: The reader meets Ben while she’s at a coffee shop during a rainy day.

A/N: So an anon sent me a message about Lana Del Rey’s song “Love” and how she pictured meeting Ben Hardy at a coffee shop and it got me very inspired to write this because I love coffee and Ben.

You loved days like these. Where rain would pour down the sky soft enough for you to count the raindrops by the sound of them hitting the pavement.

You took one last look at yourself in the mirror and smiled at your outfit. You loved dressing up for no special occasion, it helped you feel confident.

There were no plans with your friends for the afternoon so you decided on going to your favorite coffee shop for your usual drink and to get some inspiration for your writing.

Once you had your vanilla latte with a pump of caramel, you sat down and began to write on your journal.

Your favorite thing about this coffee shop was probably the fact that it was never filled with people, it was so quiet you could perfectly listen to the songs they played from their playlist called “Vintage Music for Coffee”.

You started writing down about your dreams of getting out of London and exploring the rest of Europe. You were just waiting to finish college to travel somewhere else and meet new people, you were tired of the same superficial ones you already knew.

You were so focused on writing your dreams out that you didn’t notice someone walk into the coffee shop and sit at the table right in front of you.

People are so interesting. Isn’t it amazing how every single person in the world has their own dreams, goals, fears, memories? That’s one of the many reasons why my favorite word is “sonder”, which means: the realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own.

You stopped writing for a moment to check your surroundings, to look at the people at the coffee shop. It’s something you loved to do. You loved observing people do wholesome little things, like how they smile when they get their coffee order, how couples walk into the coffee shop holding hands, how their faces light up when the person they were waiting for finally shows up. It also always inspired you to write.

There weren’t really many people at the coffee shop so your eyes immediately landed on the blonde guy sitting at the table in front of you. He had a coffee mug in front of him and his eyes were glued to his phone, he looked as if whatever he was looking at on his phone was pretty important. You carefully watched him bite his lips and run his hands through his hair.

Your heart skipped a beat when his gaze met yours and you instantly looked down at your journal and felt yourself start to blush. You felt embarrassed since he basically caught you staring at him as if you were a stalker, and the fact that he was very cute didn’t help you brush off the embarrassment.

You heard a giggle escape his lips which made you look at him. He was staring at you with a smile on his face, so you smiled back at him and felt your cheeks heat up again, but this time you didn’t break the eye contact since something about him made you think you’ve seen him before.

Your thoughts were cut off by him pointing at the chair next to you as if asking for permission to join you. You nodded at him and he smiled.

You watched him grab his phone and coffee and make his way towards you, your heart beating faster every second.

“Hey.” His voice was deeper than you expected.

“Hey.” You said as he sat down.

“Is it alright if I join you?” He asked.

His eyes were green and something about his stare made your heart flutter. You could’ve sworn you had seen him before but you couldn’t remember when or where.

“Yeah totally.” You smiled and took a sip of your coffee.

It was driving you insane not knowing where you’ve seen him before since you were sure you knew his face from somewhere. College? Work? A friend of a friend?

“I’m sorry, but have we met before?” You couldn’t help but ask him.

“I don’t think so,” He laughed, “I think I would remember your face.”

And with those words, your cheeks matched your red sweater again.

“I swear I’ve seen you before.” You ran your hands through your hair and watch his smile grow wider.

“Maybe you’ve seen me in a movie?” He said and stared deeply at you, waiting for your answer.

A movie. Your eyes widened once you recognized his face from the Bohemian Rhapsody movie and he laughed at your realization.

“Oh my god!” you said a little too loud and covered your mouth with your hands, “You were in the Bohemian Rhapsody movie right? The drummer?”

“That’s me, I’m Ben.” His smile didn’t fade away but you could see him blush a little.

“I knew I had seen you before!” You marveled.

“I’m not really that used to people recognizing me still.” He said and looked down at his coffee for a second.

You could tell by his body language and the way he blushed once you knew who he was, that he wasn’t a stuck up celebrity at all.

“Well,” you said, “you were amazing in the film, I think you’ll have to get used to the attention.”

“Thank you.” He smiled and bit his lip.

“I can’t believe I’m having a coffee with an actor.” You giggled and closed your journal.

“I’m no big deal.” He said.

“I think you are.”

He looked at you, making you bite your lips. He was extremely good-looking, his bright green eyes making his gaze intense and his lips looked rosy and plump.

“You’re really nice,” Ben said, “what’s your name?”

“Y/N.” You said while playing with your hair, you were pretty nervous but you tried your best to now show it.

“It’s nice to meet you Y/N.”

“Right back at you,” you replied, “and what are you doing here if I may ask? Not many people know about this coffee shop.”

“Oh I do,” he said, “I used to come here early in the mornings but I’ve been so busy lately that I haven’t been around here at all so I figured a small visit would make me feel back at home.”

“Really? I come here all the time, but never in the mornings.”

“Not a morning person?”

“I have classes too early so I just make coffee myself to get a little more sleep.”

“More sleep is always a good idea,” Ben stared at your journal, “are you studying journalism?”

“Oh no,” you covered your journal, “I’m studying business.”

“Amazing.” He gasped.

“Yeah,” you giggled, “writing is just a hobby I have.”

“What do you write about?” He asked.

You didn’t know what to tell him, he looked genuinely interested on what you were about to say and since you never really shared your writing with anyone, it made you nervous to talk about it.

“Just thoughts I have.” You murmured.

“That’s really good.” He nodded and there was a short moment of silence before you decided to talk.

“You know,” you began, “I was writing about people, how each person in the world has their own dreams and fears and how it amazes me. That’s why you caught me staring at you. I was looking around to get inspired.”

Ben stayed quiet for a moment, just carefully staring at you while you talked. He looked at you as if every word you were saying came straight from a poem.

“Whenever I come here I like to come up with little scenarios about each person’s life and it helps me come up with characters for stories.”

You finished and looked down at your journal, gently touching the paper.

“Woah,” Ben said in awe, “what would be mine?”

“Huh?” You looked at him in confusion, he was smiling like a little kid.

“My scenario, what would you’ve written about me.”

“Oh well,” you smiled, “your eyes were glued to your phone when I first looked at you, so I’m guessing you were working on something important and now that I know who you are, I would say you were looking at something for your next film.”

“You’re good at this,” he said, “but if you didn’t know who I was, if I wasn’t an actor and just a stranger?”

“Hmm.” You stared at him carefully, taking in every detail of his face and appreciating how beautiful he truly was.

“Someone who was probably waiting for his date to show up, you ordered black coffee because you felt tired from a hard day at work and wanted to be truly awake for when you’re special someone arrived. You’re wearing an orange jacket because it makes your green eyes stand out and you know it’s one of your best features so you want your date to like you, to fall in love with you because you’re a hopeless romantic who craves a loving relationship even though your friends think you can get any girl you want to bed and you only care about partying and getting drunk.” You said and smiled at his shocked expression.

“You’re amazing.” He whispered and you tried to hide your smile by biting your lip.

“It’s fun to do it.”

“You know,” he started, “I am a hopeless romantic actually.”

“What?” You said and watched him run his fingers through his hair.

“Don’t tell anyone.” He whispered and playfully winked at you.

“I won’t, because so am I.” You winked back at him.

Ben smiled and grabbed his phone.

“Care to give me your phone number?” He said as he handed you his phone.

You took his phone and added your phone number.

“Sonder?” He asked once you gave him his phone back and he saw you saved your name like that and not by your actual name.

“Look the word up when you have time.” You replied.

“I’m not as good as you at coming up with scenarios by looking at people,” Ben said, “but I’d like to think you would like to go on a coffee date with me sometime soon.”

“You’re good at this,” you smirked, “because I would love to.”

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

- I would love to write about Ben’s POV during the date or to continue this somehow, so if you would also like it and have any ideas please let me know! I'm also taking requests for any BoRhap guy and Queen member so feel free to drop them on my ask! sending love, L. -

#ben hardy x reader #ben hardy #ben!roger x reader #bohrap #bohemian rhapsody #borhap fanfic #borhap fandom #fluff #ben hardy fluff #ben hardy imagine #ben hardy preference #ben hardy one shot #love #coffee #sonder

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twopedalpushers · 4 years

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Travel update #5

Ecuador

A lot of events have transpired since I last posted a blog update! I signed off my last post at the border between Colombia and Ecuador. There is a lot to get through and so without further ado, welcome to the fourth country of our travels so far - Ecuador.

Normally at a border crossing the scenery subtly merged from one country to the next but upon arriving into El Ángel National Park at the Ecuadorian border, we were transported into another world. I don’t know how to describe El Ángel National Park as even the photos that I took are pale in comparison to the experience of being there. We were travelling through the park on a dirt track and there were frailjones (a specific type of Latin American sunflower) as far as the eye could see in every direction. We were the only souls along the entirety of this track and the only sounds were those of our tyres on the dirt. It was surreal. It felt like we were the only people on this strange, desolate new planet.

We passed through a few different towns before we reached the famous Ottavalo Market. The market is known throughout South America for being the best place to buy alpaca wool goods handcrafted by the indigenous people of Ottavalo. The market was vast, bursting with piles of rugs, jumpers, gloves, hats, toys (to name a few) being sold by charming Ottovaleños. We both bought a jumper each and I’ve pretty much been living in it ever since.

Probably the nicest thing about Ecuador is the amount of indigenous people wearing traditional dress. In Ecuador, 25% of people define themselves as indigenous - 22% more than in Colombia. More often than not in Ecuador, entire villages will be wearing their own cultural variation of the traditional dress. It was interesting to see how this changed as we crossed the country. Women in the North tended to wear long blue dresses, handmade blue sandals, a white blouse with an ornately embroidered belt. Men wore a blue poncho or shirt and a fedora. Once we travelled South, the women of the highlands now wore extremely bright coloured felt shawls held together with a brooch. They wore knee length bright skirts -usually in a contrasting colour to their shawl, wellington boots and a fedora. The men of the highlands wore striped ponchos and wellingtons. This was the first time I had ever seen so many people dressed traditionally throughout the entirely of a country and it was inspiring to see a culture so rich.

The capital of Ecuador is in the North, so we reached Quito fairly early into our journey. Out of all of the Latin American capitals we had visited, Quito felt the most European. It had a really relaxed yet quiet and private vibe. People ran in the parks and took their dogs out for walks in the evening. It was extremely civilised but it seemed to lack the intensity, drama and disinhibition of cities in its neighbouring countries.

The roads after Quito were beautiful. We were cycling through Ecuador’s Volcanic corridor, which took us around Cotopaxi Volcano and ended with the vast and breathtaking Quilatoa Lake.

The scenery was spectacular but the cycling was becoming extremely difficult. The small roads that we usually cycled on were now cobbled instead of paved or dirt. We had to bump along up hills of extreme gradients. It was rainy season in Ecuador so we frequently found ourselves cycling in dense fog or rain all day. The dampness made cycling uphill on cobbles extremely slippery and dangerous to do, especially on a bike that weighed the same amount as I did! I found myself having to get off the saddle and push my bike up steep hill after steep hill, most of which only 4x4’s were able to drive up.

Ecuadorians seemed to prefer to build roads straight up the mountain rather than having the road switch back a few times to gradually take you up. Because of this, our progress became infuriatingly slow - down from 80km per day in Colombia to 40-50km in good weather.

Ecuador took us to new heights. Most days we were at an altitude of 3000-4000m. Although thankfully neither of us got altitude sickness, doing such intense physical activity so far above sea level left me incredibly out of puff to the point that I would struggle to catch my breath.

The picture painted of cycling through Ecuador online and on social media contrasted immensely with the reality of doing so. Cycle-touring blogs and Instagram accounts that I’ve been following whilst on the trip are endlessly positive highlight reels of what it’s like cycling on the best days. Nobody tells you that you will be woken up in the middle of the night with searing pain in your legs from the build up of lactic acid. Nobody tells you that on the worst day of your period you will be biking 2000m of elevation instead of running yourself a hot bath and stuffing your face with chocolate.

After a while in Ecuador, I started to expect every day to be another bad day, which kickstarted a dangerous spiral of negativity. I would look at Max cycling ahead of me in the distance, conquering each hill much more easily and happily than I could, and I would wonder why I was not able to do the same. I was asking myself why on earth I was putting my mind and body through this every day. It was the first time on the trip that I truly missed home.

Ecuador uses the dollar and is much more expensive than Colombia. Because of this to save money we did a lot more camping than we usually would. However because of the persistent rain we found ourselves needing to camp under shelter, once taking refuge on a volleyball pitch next to the side of the road, other times in hostel courtyards. Not splashing out on a bed in a hostel very often meant that we were tackling the Andes on very little sleep for as long as ten days in a row without a break.

This has been a pretty negative account (sorry!). However it was not totally miserable in Ecuador. On dry days, we got to camp in some of the most amazing, wild spots that have been better than anywhere else on the trip thus far. We spent time camping next to waterfalls and at the base of volcanoes. Between villages while cycling on dirt roads we were very often the only the people around. We saw lots of llamas and alpacas for the first time on the trip!

However no amount of cute, fluffy llamas could make up for the difficulty of the cycling and unfortunately my morale was low. The strain of undertaking such an intense physical challenge and spending every minute of the day together began to take a toll on mine and Max’s relationship. We were exhausted and bickering with each other at every opportunity. I was falling out of love with the cycling and in the end we decided that it would be good to take a break from biking and spend some time apart.

Max and his family were heading to visit him in the Galapagos for ten days, and although I was invited along too I decided to fly to Brazil instead. We were 5 months into the trip and halfway through our time on the continent so it felt like a good moment to rest our bodies and treat ourselves a little bit.

Our cycle route down the Western side of South America doesn’t take us through Brazil and it has always been a country that I have wanted to visit. I booked my flights to Rio de Janeiro and found out a couple of days later that I was going to be there while it’s Carnival! I really needed to blow off some steam and now had the perfect opportunity to do so - it felt like the stars were aligning!

So about a week ago, we both left our bikes behind and flew to completely different places. We are going to return to our bikes refreshed, rested and ready to take on the Peruvian section of the Andes! Other cyclists that we have met on this trip rave about Peru being one of the most beautiful countries to cycle through, so I’m pretty excited. More importantly others have said that Peru is far less steep than Ecuador because they thankfully build long, winding hairpins up the mountain at a gradual gradient when possible. Obviously, there will still be hills to climb but after a good rest I’ll be able to take them on with fresh legs and a positive attitude.

I landed in Rio de Janeiro a few days ago and Carnival is every bit as exciting, intense, raucous and dynamic as you would imagine it to be - just times by one hundred. I’ve been at some of the street parties (that seemingly have no start or end) for a few days now. I will save writing about my time in Brazil for my next update.

Below I’ve posted the full video of our time cycling through Colombia. I’m in the process of putting together the Ecuador video and will upload it in a few days.

Here is the link to track our progress (although we won’t be cycling for a while so you won’t see a lot of progression!)

http://share.garmin.com/DMB7R

Similarly to my previous post about reaching the end of Colombia, I thought I would write a list of all the interesting things that I noticed while travelling through Ecuador. Again, it’s lifted from my journal so it informally written.

Ice cream! Ice cream! Ice cream! For a country so cold it’s crazy to see how into ice cream the locals are. On every street there is an ice cream shop. In the North they cover ice cream in cheese (crazy combination I know...) I was intrigued by this but in the end I was too grossed out to give it a try.

The possibility of taking a hot shower is back- for the first time on the entire trip! Ecuadorians mostly have warm showers, which is nice. They don’t have central heating in their buildings so they use propane tanks to heat their water. Every morning a truck selling gas canisters trawls around every neighbourhood, blaring a song sung by children with shrill voices. It’s the same song in every town we have visited.

Ecuador has a strangely large amount of Chinese restaurants called “Chifas.”

They’re mad about topiary gardens. In the North every town square had shrubs with peoples faces and animals cut into them.

Ecuadorians are very quiet, reserved, friendly and humble people.

A very large amount of people drive old school classic VW Beetles. It’s definitely the most common type of classic car you will see in Ecuador.

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greener-living · 6 years

Photo

I’ve always been excited about turning thirty. it’s a time where you have an idea of who you are as a person and what you want. I’ve spent a lot of time self reflecting and these are just some of my thoughts that have been going through my mind lately.

holy moly the last twelve months have been challenging. from my dad being really sick, to two friends passing away, to my 7 year relationship ending, and having to find a new place to call home.

this is not where I thought I’d be. thinking back on a year ago this is not what I pictured at all but it gives me comfort thinking that in a year’s time I will look back and think of how I made it through.

having this self awareness is a funny thing. you know that you need to feel whatever emotions you’re going through but you also know that it isn’t permanent.

some advice I got was to allow yourself to be sad but define a point from which you want to start looking forward, being selfish and focus on shaping your future (thanks jesper).

but don’t be too hard on yourself. each day the sun will rise and you can begin again. take little achievable steps and over time you will keep moving forward. one of my first goals was to just eat breakfast every day. it sounds silly but it was something that was hard for me but I needed to do and if I did it it was a step forward in the right direction.

I am so loved. ridiculously. the number of people who are there for me is in abundance and they want to be there. don’t feel like you’re a burden if people are reaching out to you and offering their support. you need people to help lift you back up and they will hold you in loving arms.

it’s amazing how I have bonded with so many people that I haven’t even met. I have received so many meaningful and loving messages over the last year. there are negatives to social media but so many positives like connection and awareness.

we are not invincible. my dad is doing better but every time he went into surgery it was so hard to comprehend that he may not come back out and I would not have that unconditional love anymore that your parents give.

it’s so interesting to find out more about your parents when they were younger and what shaped them to be the people that they are. it helps you understand the reasons in which they raised you the way that they did. I became a lot closer to my mum when we had an open discussion until 4 o’clock one morning and our relationship has been the best it has ever been.

I also had this realisation of why I always felt so much closer to my dad rather than my mum. I was asked what is something that you clearly remember embarrassing you as a kid and mine was that I didn’t know the words penis and vagina and only knew them in filipino. the kids made fun of me and when I went home to my mum she told me that I was right but my dad had to tell me that the kids were right too. mum would tell untrue things about sexuality and I realise now that it’s a cultural thing that she was doing out of love and protection for my innocence but it meant that I would always go to my dad so I have always opened up to my dad more than my mum.

as you get older you realise that your parents are just normal human beings whose ideas or beliefs you may not agree with anymore and that’s okay.

my parents and my christianity led me to think that marriage should only be between a man and woman. but I remember so clearly maybe only like five years ago bursting into tears when I had the realisation that love is love. it was literally like a penny dropping.

even though I don’t go to church except for the occasional easter or christmas service now I wouldn’t be the person I am today without religion. it taught me kindness and compassion and I can’t describe the comfort and piece of home I feel when I hear certain gospels and hymns.

if in doubt do what you love and it will work out in some way. dance has allowed me to be where I am right now. I remember my dad asked me to choose between going to private school or dancing and I chose dancing. I ended up being school captain and got an OP 6. my parents also had it in their head that if I didn’t go to university straight away I would never go so I chose to do dance until I figured out a couple of years later to add business as a second degree. and dance is what led me to yoga. I went because I got an injury and thought it would be a good way to keep fit before going back to dance but then I fell in love with yoga and now it’s my life. so even though you may not be sure at the time, do what you love and it will come together in some form or another.

going on from that point if I have children I won’t force them to go straight into university if they don’t want to. I think it’s hard for a lot of us to know what we want to do at 16. most people I’ve spoken to they didn’t know and lots of people changed their degrees or career paths. so if you want to take a gap year, work in a cafe and have fun then do it. you’ll find your way.

if you want to do your yoga teacher training I would recommend doing it in india. it’s such a wonderful experience to take a whole month for yourself. it’s easier to stick to the lifestyle and shut off from everything else. the cost of doing it in india works out the same if not even cheaper than doing it in the west.

be authentically you. people dig it and can tell if you’re not being genuine. in my yoga classes I make my little jokes and laugh at myself and people love that.

but some people don’t and that’s okay. I remember one time I was covering a class at a health club in london and had three people walk out. it was so hard not to be offended but then five people came up afterwards and said how much they loved it.

not everyone is going to like you and most of the time that’s someone reacting to you rather than what you’re doing specifically.

write a love letter to yourself for those times you feel uncertain to remind yourself of your amazingness. sometimes we can into this dark and twisty place that we are blinded and can’t see the light and joy that is there.

*trigger warning* it’s not okay to hurt yourself and if this is happening please go speak to someone. I couldn’t handle it when I found out the love of my life didn’t want me anymore. it started with digging my nails into my skin, then beating my legs with my fists to banging my head against walls. all I could keep thinking was a knife to my throat because I couldn’t handle the pain. so I booked in for therapy. don’t be afraid of therapy. mental health is so important. if you need to speak please call lifeline on 13 11 14.

I’m actually okay being by myself. it’s just the hurt of what happened that I am still dealing with but I know that it is the cliche of time that will heal.

I’m not one of those people who think oh my god I’m going to be a spinster and die alone. let’s be real, I’m a yoga instructor with cute freckles – I’ll find someone who will rock my world. however I don’t want to rush into dating because I had the rebound experience last time and it was very selfish. even though we explicitly didn’t say we would be exclusive I knew that it was more than we we were letting on and when I became serious with my ex boyfriend it was so hard to let this other person know. I’m not saying no to anything and will be open if someone comes, but I won’t be actively seeking something as I need to take this time for myself.

I’m struggling with forgiveness. do you need to forgive, when they haven’t asked? especially when you have already forgave them and did the same thing to you again when they promised they wouldn’t? it will most likely be something that I will need to do in some capacity for myself to move forward but for now I can’t.

I go through these thoughts that he has all these attractive qualities because of me. well traveled, more grounded and calm, vegetarian, practices yoga – things that our relationship shaped. but I’m more than positive he’s given me qualities too that I can’t think of specifically right now because I’m still too overwhelmed. I was discussing this with someone and they laughed because I’m still trying to see the best in this person.

there are some people who you can try and help all you can but there’s comes a point where they need to help themselves and if they can’t then you need to walk away. if someone is toxic it’s unfair that they receive that beautiful energy that you have and take you down. I don’t regret any of our time together. we had an amazing life so that’s the biggest shame that it ended the way it did because it’s not the ending we deserved.

travel gives me so much fulfilment. I’ve been to 46 countries so far and have had the most amazing experiences from boating with hippos in botswana, sea kayaking in albania, husky rides in finland, camel rides into the desert in morocco, exploring forts in oman, skiing in canada, volunteering in haiti, eating tacos in mexico, and camping around new zealand.

if you can live overseas at least once in your life go for it. I’m trying to decide right now whether I should pack up and leave again because now there’s nothing that holding me here.

I got a credit card so I could get all the frequent flyer points but it was a bad idea. I was always in debt so one day I just cut up my credit cards and it was the best decision of my life. also become financially independent. unfortunately even though I was very aware and over the years asked many times and was reassured that I would never have to worry about money I became financially dependent on my partner and then it ended.

finally, take time to be with yourself in some way. whether that be a journal, jotting down your dreams, going to your favourite class, listing the bands you’ve seen, taking 5 minutes to meditate or writing down your favourite memories as it pops up in your timeline. it’s a wonderful thing to remember what you’ve done or felt to help shape where you are going or where you want to be. it all starts with working on you and the rest will work itself out.

#ground bloom flourish #self reflection #self awareness #thirtieth birthday #self worth #self love #self acceptance #self journey #journalling

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abbyccpsarts · 4 years

Text

Process Journal

Link to my Learning Agreement

2.10.20

This week I organized all of the Polaroids I’ve taken thus far into mini books to help organize and protect the film. I’m still working on finalizing the list of “bucket list” items I want to complete, as well as what the journal entry prompts will be. Besides the pretty big gap in research that I have with this, my project doesn’t feel “substantial” enough right now, if that makes any sense.

Some of the photos below!

(above is from the museum I went to, below is from my trip to Israel!)

Additionally, I did a critical response workshop with fellow Arts Scholar Adriana Alonzo:

Critical Response Process-w/ Adriana Alonzo

Statements of Meaning:

- Likes how this project has an air of “fulfillment”

- “Fun” premise; Makes it real life, not a HW assignment

Artist as the Questioner:

Research angle: the mental health benefits of traveling, journaling; Research the individual aspects of your project

- Logging mental health over a long period of time

-follow up research on the ones I enjoyed

Neutral Questions

- How many “experiences” do you plan having; do you know

Goal between 10-12; subsections within each “header”; don’t have final list

- How are you going to set up website?

Current plan is to have a gallery, but also direct links to each experience; A more clean cut design than the original scrapbook

- Any research on website?

Probably gonna have a page about that; be the home screen? (maybe not)

Permissioned Opinions

- Do you like the experiences I’ve brought up?

“It’s cute! I think the mix you have is good; always people to relate, like you want”

2.12.20

I had my advisor conference today with Heather and she gave me some really great advice on avenues I can go down for the research end of things. One thing Heather said that is really sticking with me is what she said about making this an experiment of sorts—I’m not just going to complete these bucket list experiences, but having a common theme/experiment throughout that will help me connect them. What if this experiment was prose related? I wanted to add in a writing element other than journaling originally so this could be my opportunity to do that.

I’ve also decided to use Wix for the final web format. It’s easy to use but also has the opportunity for “advanced tinkering,” as I like to say.

2.17.20

I’ve had a breakthrough today—I was hanging out with my writer friend and I remembered a while back she was talking about how one of her english classes had them do an assignment where they had to “people watch” for thirty minutes once a week and write down some of the conversations they overheard. My friend used this to help better her dialogue in her writing. I’ve decided to emulate this but take it a step further: I’m going to go to places I’ve always wanted to go to, but I’m going to people watch at these places—write down snippets of conversation I might overhear, etc—and then choose a subject/person to write a short story about. This allows me to not only experience new things, but try and put myself in a new mindset, context, by writing in these places about someone/something else. Because there’s a new, more time-consuming and creative-consuming element to this capstone, I think it’s wise that I aim for 5-6 total pieces/experiences instead of the originally intended 10-12.

2.19.20

I had my first look presentation today and overall I’ve gotten some really good feedback from everyone. I still need to thoroughly go through the flashcards I got from everyone, but so far everyone seems to like the direction it's going, even giving some great suggestions for what format the stories should be in (flash fiction maybe? Or even dabble in poetry as well) and how I could narratively tie all the stories together. Below is the google document I used to succinctly point out the differences and similarities between this “new” capstone and the old one.

A Collection of Stories Inspired by People (or Wizard) Watching

SIMILAR ELEMENTS

Still In a web format

Still involves me going out and trying new things; simply asks me to be more engaged with my surroundings and other people there

Still involves reflection/journaling on my part

Still involves a photographic complement

DIFFERENT ELEMENTS

New narrative element- I’m writing a short story about a person experiencing the space I’m in;

Possibly contrasting and/or complementing that story to my own personal emotions tied to that space

Story is going to be the main focus, while my own thoughts are going to be secondary

RESEARCH

Fairly new idea, so I’m working on curating a new list of sources, but I’m going to primarily focus on researching the benefits of people watching, actively being creative in a new space (seeing how that affects my writing process), etc

2.21.20

Today I started messing with Wix a bit. I’m definitely jumping ahead on my schedule and ignoring what I should really be doing (research!!) but I’m giving myself some breathing room to get my thoughts and such accumulated to this new idea. I don’t want to share any pictures of my website bare bones until

2.24.20

My goal for this week (on top of research) was to compile a rough list of the places I want to go for writing this story. A lot of the preliminary reserach I’ve done on writing/being creative in a new space suggests having a “control;” this means, in regards to this particular project, that I need to write in a space I’m familiar with and see how that differs from writing in a completely new space. Then there’s also the question of how I’ll write at the beginning when I’m first introduced to the new space, and then how’ll write once I get slightly more acclimated to the space. Regardless, here are my ideas for where to people watch/write as of today:

(1) Starbucks route 1 [serves as my control for this “experiment”]

(2) Bookstore/Restaurant (I’m visiting one next Thursday for a comedy show)

(3) “Somewhere” in NYC (visiting w/ scholars—write during free time?)

(4) Center of a campus (not UMD— maybe Towson? over Spring Break?)

I don’t want a totally “complete” list yet, as I want opportunities to present themselves as I go along, but I still think it’s good to have a basic list of things to do. I think the first thing that I’ll end up doing is either the Starbucks one (my control) or the bookstore/restaurant since I’m attending a comedy event at one next Thursday.

3.1.20

I haven’t really made much headway in research, writing, or anything to be honest. I had a pretty busy weekend—worked most of Friday and all of Saturday— and now I’m starting to get a little bit nervous. I’m switching up my weekly plan a bit and having this week be primarily research and working on my annotated bibliography. Then maybe I’ll have a good idea of how I want to go about people watching for the comedy show this Thursday.

3.4.20

Last week we had arts scholars alumni join us for our weekly discussions. While I was expecting a plethora of great advice from each of them, It was also great to hear about how they each struggled, and that changing your mind is okay.

3.10.20

Tonight we heard that school is going to be closed down for the next month or so because of the current worldwide health situation (it might be a pandemic. we don’t know yet). As much as I hate to admit it I’m more annoyed than anything, but I understand how paramount safety and health is over any frustrations I might have. I know we’ll adjust accordingly. I hadn’t really thought about how this was going to affect my capstone until now. Hopefully I’ll still be able to travel to new places. Everything’s pretty hectic right now so we’ll see what the next few weeks bring.

3.25.20

Creativity; Time Management Chosen Technique: Incubation. While I’ve utilized “taking a break” while I’m working, (going to take a walk, etc) I’ve never really considered it in the context of “this is my time to let my thoughts marinate.” I really enjoyed reframing my mindset while taking incubation breaks and found that it allowed me to not only work longer, but more effectively.

3.31.20

It’s been an interesting month to say the least. I’m going to have to change my capstone quite a bit in light of the rest of the semester being online and not being able to travel to write my pieces. I’m really not quite sure what I’m going to do, but we’ll see. I have nothing to show at this time. I have my research but I haven’t dived into writing because I’m unsure of what direction to go in. Perhaps after I talk with Heather I’ll have some more direction.

4.5.20

Curation Rapid Prototyping Exercise: essentially, my sketching revolved around the various menu tabs I want for my website.

- An Artist’s Statement/Process page (BTS)

- Research page

- A central page for someone to visit that organizes all of the pieces onto one “table of contents” that links to each pieces individual page

- An individual page for each piece

- A contact page?

Second Advisor Meeting: 4/9/20

I met with my arts advisor (Heather!) over ZOOM today and thank god because I can salvage this capstone. I honestly with I’d reached out to her sooner. We’ve found a way to salvage my research and redirect/reword it to fit the current situation. I’ll be writing about rooms in my house that I’ve changed emotions for. It plays into my research on the Differential Susceptibility Hypothesis (our susceptibility of change due to environmental factors) and change itself. I want these pieces to encapsulate a clear before and after, and how that may have negatively or positively affected me.

Second Look Presentation: 4/17/20

Going into the second look presentations I felt more grounded in what I wanted to write about and the literary mediums I was going to write about. However I still feel like I’m lacking focus. Heather’s feedback on my central question really had me think about how I can clarify and specify the focus and the audience of my capstone. I’ve decided to rephrase my central question as: What’s new? It proposes that something has changed, but it allows me the flexibility to offer different answers with each prose. I intend to add some context to this question on my Wix page (perhaps in the process section?).

4.21.20

For my show and tell I’d like to share a screenshot of the brainstorming process of my pieces right now, alongside a few little rough excerpts. I’ve also thought of doing a mini photo shoot to provide visuals for each of these pieces if I have time.

#CPSA process journal

0 notes

seriestrash · 7 years

Text

You Me Her

1 || 2 || 3 || 4 || 5 || 6 || 7 || 8 || 9 ||

Chapter Ten: Winter Formal

Word Count: 6926

↠ ♥ ↞

Riley practically runs home after her encounter with Lucas at the library. Why did Lucas have to say that? She wasn’t imagining things, he was hinting at a romantic mistake. Why now? Why did he have to say that? Riley is thankful that her parents took Auggie to Philadelphia for the weekend, that meant she had the apartment to herself to just implode, because that’s how she felt in the moment.

Riley throws her backpack on the sofa and stomps upstairs. Riley paces around her room, her breathing is shallow. The brunette rips off her coat and throws it to the side. Riley stops dead in her tracks, determined to not let this shake her. She was past this, she was past Lucas. Riley clenches her eyes shut and does her very best to focus on her breathing. She inhales, holds it as long as she could and exhales loudly. Riley repeats this a few times until the sick feeling in her stomach subsides and her breathing regulates. Riley opens her eyes and takes a seat at the end of her bed.

Rattling on the fire escape startles her. Kai becomes visible and climbs through the unlocked window, he has two black bags in hand.

“Hello,” He sings upon entry.

“Hey hey,” Riley tries to act natural but fails.

“Is everything okay, Ri?” Kai asks noticing her off demeanour. “You look really flushed.”

"It’s cold out but I jogged upstairs...Confused body temperature and all that...” Riley laughs nervously.

“Are you sure?” Kai gives her a dubious look. “Because you’d tell me if something was going on right?”

“Of course.” Riley nods quickly.

“Because we get through the tough times together right?” Kai’s look remains firm but quizzical.

“Absolutely.” Riley affirms. “Now, what are you doing here?”

“We are getting ready for the dance.” Kai wiggles the two garment bags in hand.

“And by we, you mean I keep you company whilst you get ready for the dance that I’m not going to, right?” Riley eyes him.

“Negative.” Kai says with a smile, he was still worried about Riley but he’d just silently keep an eye on her instead of pressing further. The boy in glasses rests one of the garments down and proceeds to unzip the other bag.

“What is this?” Riley folds her arms close to her chest as she looks at the baby blue dress.

“It’s a birthday present.” Kai answers innocently.

“My birthday was two weeks ago and you already bought me a necklace.” Riley’s fingers brush the dainty ‘R’ charm hanging from her neck.

“Fine, it’s an early Christmas present.” Kai sighs.

“I already know you got me travel journal for Europe.” Riley gives him a look.

“Noah told you?” Kai frowns, “Worst secret keeper ever.”

“He was excited,” Riley tries to defend him. “Plus I already know he spilled about my gift.”

“I’m totally going to love it by the way.” Kai chuckles.

Riley exhales loudly, “Is there any use fighting you on this?”

“Absolutely not.” Kai smirks.

Riley looks at the baby blue dress. It’s beautiful, a deep V cut back with slightly more modest V cut front. Fit and flare from the waist. A beautiful white lace pattern overlay with the blue peeping through from beneath and a pretty, thin, satin bow around the waist. ++ Visuals attached in the end notes ++

“You don’t like it?” Kai deflates.

“No it’s beautiful.” Riley nods.

“Then what’s wrong?” Kai sits by her. “Why don’t you want to go to the dance?”

“Mom and dad are away so I thought I could have a quiet night in.” Riley offers up an excuse.

“They’re also away tomorrow night.” Kai highlights giving her excuse little merit.

“It’s just a silly dance, who cares if I skip it?” Riley groans.

“It’s not just a silly dance.” Kai frowns. “It’s our last winter formal, ever.”

“It’s not like I’m skipping prom.” Riley sulks.

“I know this isn’t about a date, because you turned down three guys..” Kai trails off after noticing Riley’s shift in expression. “Or is it about a date, because you know I could get you one like that-“ Kai snaps his fingers.

“I couldn’t care less about having a date.” Riley lies. Maybe she would feel more comfortable with a date but that didn’t necessarily mean she wanted one.

“So you don’t have to have a date, date but you can still come along with me and Noah.” Kai grins.

“I’m not crashing your date.” Riley shakes her head.

“Are you kidding, going to the dance with my boyfriend and my best friend?” Kai grins, “I couldn’t dream of a better scenario and Noah is more than down for it, he loves you. I even got myself a bow tie to match your dress and Noah has one of those cute pocket thingys in the same colour.”

“Kai…” Riley coaxes her head.

Kai holds his finger out to silence Riley. “I thought we already agreed that there was no use in arguing with me?”

Riley lets out a groan in defeat. “Fine.”

“We have wasted enough time, let’s get ready.” Kai claps victoriously.

Riley and Kai prep for the dance. The dress Kai bought fits Riley perfectly, the drama fanatic fought Riley on the addition of thick black stockings but the quirky girl won out in the end. Riley wears a warm white coat over her whole ensemble for the subway ride to school.

Noah meets his dates at the station, cooing compliments about how lucky he was to have such attractive dates. Riley pretends to blush as he fiddles with her loose curls. “Pretty as a picture, Sunshine.”

Once at school, just outside of the gym where the dance is being held, Noah stops Kai and Riley in the empty hallway. When Kai asks what’s going on Noah just casually slips a flask out of his suit jackets inner pocket and takes a swig. Riley’s eyes grow wide knowing it’s definitely alcohol, she becomes anxious and fears being caught on school grounds. Kai accepts Noah’s offer and takes a sip himself before offering it to Riley. She declines, shaking her head like a fool and the boys chuckle at her innocence and escort her into the gym.

Riley’s anxiety kicks into high gear once inside the gym crammed with students and loud music bouncing off the walls. Kai drags his dates over to the photo corner and makes a real scene showing them off as each flash captures the moment. After he’s done crouching down and literally presenting Riley like she’s the prize on a game show he drags her and Noah to the dance floor. After two songs, Riley’s still not feeling it so she comes up with an excuse to part.

“It’s warm in here, I need a drink.” Riley shouts. Kai nods as he continues to bounce to the music with Noah. Riley spins around and collides with someone, causing her to stagger back a few steps. She’s mid apology when she flicks her gaze up to find none other than her former sweetheart, Lucas looking back at her. With the past afternoons encounter fresh in her mind Riley finds herself at a loss for words.

“I didn’t think you were coming.” Lucas shouts over the music.

“I wish I didn’t.” Riley mumbles to herself as she pushes past him and makes her way out of the the crowd.

All the brunette wanted was to find her coat and leave, coming here was a mistake. Since Kai made Riley take off her coat before entering the gym - so they could be photo ready as soon as they arrived - Riley didn’t have a clue where it was. Riley is inspecting the bleachers when Noah approaches her with two cups of punch in hand.

“What’s the matter, Sunshine?” Noah asks as he hands her one of the beverages.

“Nothing.” Riley sends him a sweet smile. “Is this...”

“Punch.” Noah finishes her sentence with a giggle. “And that smile doesn’t fool me.” He takes a seat and pats the space beside him.

“Where’s Kai?” Riley asks trying to change the subject.

Noah motions over towards the DJ booth where Kai stands with a group of guys being his usual social self.

“I saw you bump into Lucas.” Noah doesn’t allow Riley to drop the topic.

“You saw that?” Riley avoids his gaze.

Noah nods. “I thought Lucas was a problem of yesteryear, has something changed?” Noah knew Lucas would always be a problem for Riley but he still broaches the subject casually, not wanting to trigger her.

“No.” Riley shakes her head. “Lucas has zero to do with my emotions anymore.”

“Okay.” Noah says unconvinced. “You’ve been off since I met up with you on the subway and Kai said you seemed off at your apartment too... What’s going on?”

“Nothing.” Riley says simply.

“Fine.” Noah didn’t buy that for a second but he chooses not to press right now, instead he lets out a heavy sigh. “Can I tell you a secret?”

“Is it your secret to tell?” Riley raises an eyebrow.

“I wasn’t at the guidance counsellor looking at other colleges.” Noah admits.

“Okay... Why were you there?” Riley questions, worried there’s an emotional reason behind it.

“Don’t worry, Sunshine, I’m fine.” Noah notices the panic in Riley’s voice and gives her hand a reassuring squeeze. “I was there talking about a few athletic scholarship offers I’ve received.”

“I didn’t know there were official offers yet.” Riley’s eyes widen. “I mean we knew there were a handful interested.. Why didn’t you tell me? Does Kai know?”

“No, only my family do.” Noah shakes his head. “That’s why it’s a secret.”

“I don’t understand…” Riley crinkles her brows.

“Two schools have made offers, Notre Dame being one of them.” Noah shares.

“That’s your first choice right?” Riley smiles. “Why don’t you look excited?”

“They offered me early admission.” Noah fidgets as he speaks.

“As in leave Abigail Adam’s early to attend there?” Riley questions, already knowing the answer.

Noah nods weakly. “I’d technically still graduate but there is a strong possibility I’d miss prom along with the actual graduation ceremony itself.”

“Oh.” Riley sinks into her place on the bleachers. This hurt more to hear than her confusing conversation with Lucas in the library. Things were changing and Riley wasn’t ready for any of it.

“I haven’t made any decisions yet,” Noah says positively, “It’s still early.”

“You should tell Kai.” Riley gives him half a smile.

“I can’t.” Noah rejects the idea. “If I tell him, he’ll encourage me to go.”

“The nerve of him for being a supportive boyfriend.” Riley says sarcastically.

“But if I leave.. What does that mean for me and Kai?” Noah frowns.

“You already know Kai has been looking into all the colleges you’ve been considering.” Riley shuffles closer. “He’s willing to follow you anywhere.”

“I can’t let him do that.” Noah pouts.

“Notre Dame has a terrific history program that Kai is genuinely psyched about.” Riley says. “And he’s been looking into drama classes and groups in and outside of the school too.”

“Alright, so lets say Kai does make a decision based on his future - excluding me as a factor - what if I do leave early?” Noah holds Riley’s gaze. “That gives him plenty of time to change his mind about the school... About me.” Noah’s eyes wander back towards Kai and a group of his friends. A sadness waving over the shy football player.

“Noah, you are his future.” Riley says softly and turns his face back towards her. “If Notre Dame didn’t have an academic program that excited or suited him, Kai wouldn’t go but he’d still look for a school that was close to you because as extreme, over the top, loud and headstrong Kai may be, there is one thing about him that’s simple and easy to understand and that is how much he loves you.”

“Boy do I wish we were all going to the same school.” Noah’s smile is small. “Then we could graduate together and all move back to the city and live in some small apartment and then when it’s time for you to spread your wings you could move into the conveniently vacant apartment across the hall.”

“And we’d laugh in the faces of anyone who called us dangerously codependent.” Riley jokes.

Noah chuckle softly, noticeably, some of his fears had melted away but Riley knew he’d ultimately feel better once he talked things through with Kai. Subtly, Noah pulls the flask out of his jacket pocket and tops his punch up with the contents of it. Again Riley declines his offer for some alcohol.

Riley takes a deep breath, Noah had been so open with her she felt like doing the same. That and the library incident had been weighing so heavily on her mind that she needed to talk about it. “I spoke to Lucas at the library this afternoon.”

“Oh?” Noah pricks up a brow as he takes a swig from his cup.

“He told me he thinks he made a mistake.” Riley is looking into the crowd of teens as she speaks. “When he chose Maya over me.”

Noah chokes on his mouthful and not because of it’s alcoholic contents. “What?”

“Then I told him I didn’t care and walked away.” Riley says like it’s no big deal.

“Exactly like that?” Noah coaxes his head.

“I froze at first and then scurried away once I came to my senses.” Riley points a weak smile at no one in particular.

“Well that explains why you’ve been so off tonight.” Noah gives her a sympathetic look. “I can’t believe he’d say that and then bring Maya to the dance.”

“What?” Riley snaps her head towards him.

“That’s why we’re upset, right?” Noah grows nervous.

“My mood is directly linked to the confusion at the library.. What do you mean?” Riley lets her eyes scan the gym trying to find familiar faces. Her eyes settle by the punch table where Lucas stands with Maya and Zay.

“Let’s leave.” Noah says hopefully. “We can find Kai and go back to your apartment, order some pizza, watch some movies...” Noah tries but he, along with Riley, witnesses what appears to be Zay encouraging a photo between the ex couple, the two blondes cuddle in doing a silly pose at first but take another where Maya stretches up to press her lips to the side of Lucas jaw.

“Come on, Riley,” Noah softens. “Let’s just go.”

“I have a better idea.” Riley turns back to him with a menacing look in her eye. “That flask still have anything left inside it?”

“Are you sure?” Noah asks dubiously but he was already a little too tipsy to rationally handle the situation.

“You and Kai are always saying how I should let loose.” Riley smiles. “So hit me.” She waves her cup in front of him. Noah ponders it for a moment but eventually tops Riley’s cup up with a liquid that smells awful and burns her throat when she downs it but that didn’t stop Riley from chugging the whole cup. The two of them finish off the remaining liquor and head to the dance floor just as the alcohol begins to take affect.

It doesnt take very long at all to hit Riley, a definite buzz almost immediately. Her blood felt warm but in a good way and it’s not long before Riley starts to feel reality distort around her but that doenst stop the first time drunk from dancing. Then it really starts to hit Riley, it’s like the room is spinning even though she stands completely still in the middle of it. Sweaty bodies move to the music around her, music that, to Riley, sounds like it’s coming from a different room entirely. Watching Noah happily twirl around her, Riley stands frozen trying to comprehend how everything sounded so far away and how people around her were moving slowly even though her head was racing.

Kai spots Riley first, looking dazed amongst their peers, then he spots Noah stumbling about to the music way more confidently than usual. Quickly, Kai comes to the realisation that both his dates are heavily intoxicated. Slightly irritated he quickly makes his way over to them for some serious damage control.

Riley doesn’t notice him at first, not even when Kai lightly shakes her shoulder but she did react to it after a couple more shakes, by then Kai had turned to scold Noah, shouting something about suspension.

When Kai turns to check on Riley he finds that she has already slipped away in a desperate attempt for fresh air. The brunette stumbles through the crowd of teens and makes her way out the gym doors, down a few hallways and ends up by the hole where her old friends got put on their first day of high school.

Riley finds Lucas and Maya having a hushed conversation at the top of the stairs. In a failed attempt to sneak past them Riley trips, not falling over completely but staggering in place as she tries to regain her balance.

“Oops.” Riley giggles when they turn to face her. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“Riley are you drunk?” Maya gives her a judgmental look.

“What Peaches?” Riley exaggerates a pout, “You sad someone else got me to unfold my hands?”

Riley wobbles on her feet and Lucas throws an arm out to steady her and Riley’s giggling continues.

“I think you need to go home.” Lucas says not dropping his hold on her.

Riley pushes his arm away, “I’ll take that into consideration, thanks.”

“Just let her go.” Maya snaps, “Why don’t you go find your girlfriend.” The blonde was clearly taking a dig at her former best friend.

“Maya!” Lucas scolds.

“At least I don't have to worry about her developing feelings for any boys I like.” Riley holds her own. She salutes the couple and leaves them with faces of guilt.

Riley continues down the hall with the room still spinning around her, she uses every shred of consciousness she has to walk straight under the watchful eyes of her ex friends. Riley makes her way outside to the grassy oval and breathes in the cool winter air.

White snowflakes float down upon her. Riley throws both arms out at her sides and spins around letting the white specks tickle her face.

“Riley?” Lucas’ voice snaps her out of her quiet giggling and she seizes twirling.

“What do you want, Lucas?” Riley asks agitated.

Before he could say anything else Kai’s voice drifts over to them. “Riley, I have been looking for you everywhere!” He calls out. Kai has one arm wrapped around his boyfriend trying to prop him up as they struggle to make their way towards Riley. He has her coat thrown over his shoulder.

“Sunshine!” Noah grabs at the air as they approach Riley. The alcohol clearly was working quite the number on Noah too.

“Spin with me!” Riley takes both of his hands and they lean back and twirl around together.

Losing their grip, they break apart and both high schoolers fall backwards landing butt first into the damp, snow covered grass. They’re laughing hysterically with each other as Kai and Lucas look on at the mess.

“Up you get,” Kai bends forward and tries to pick up the sloppy footballer. He awkwardly tries to help Riley up with his other arm but they all end up fumbling back to the ground. The two boozed up teens finding it far more amusing than the sober one.

Lucas jumps in to assist but Kai snubs him, “Why don’t you just go, Friar?”

“I’m just trying to help.” Lucas frowns but is annoyed at the rejection.

“I think you’ve done enough.” Kai remains cold.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Lucas eyes him.

Ka ignores him.

“Hey what’s your problem, man?” Lucas is getting worked up. “You’re acting like I got her drunk.”

“You might as well have.” Kai scoffs.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Lucas glares as he repeats himself.

“HEY, NO FIGHTING!” Riley growls, “We should make snow angels instead!” Riley softens completely and lays back, wiggling her limps in the white blanket on the grass. Noah follows her lead and does the same.

“Noah get up,” Kai pleads, “If a teacher finds you out here you’ll get suspended and you can kiss any chance at a scholarship goodbye.”

“Maybe I don’t want a scholarship.” Noah slurs as he sits up.

Even though Noah’s drunk babble confused Kai he chose not to question it now, instead he turns to Riley firmly and orders her to sit up. “Riley, if a teacher catches you like this it only takes one phone call to your dad-”

“Then I’d be grounded for life,” Riley swats the air, “Fine!” She stands up with a pouty face, stomping her foot like a child. Kai helps his best friend into her coat.

“To the subway!” Noah points a finger in the air laughing like he’s the funniest person to walk the earth.

“I can drive you guys home?” Lucas offers.

“Seriously what are you still doing here?” Kai lets out a frustrated groan.

“I’m just trying to help.” Lucas tries to regain his cool. “Regardless of what you think of me as a person, I do care about Riley.”

“Says the asshole who hurt her.” Kai throws his arms out dramatically. He’d reached his boiling point well and truly.

“It was your idiot boyfriend who got her drunk.” Lucas snaps, he was tired of being treated like a villain when all he wanted to do was help.

“He has a name you know. Noah.” Kai snaps with more fire behind his words than Riley had ever heard him have before. “And how about you take some responsibility for being the asshole who broke Riley’s heart freshman year and then waits until she’s thriving in a life without you to drop some bullshit about making a mistake when you didn’t choose her before you go blaming Noah for getting her drunk because that drunk idiot has been more of a friend to Riley then you ever were.”

“You told him?” Riley frowns as she turns to Noah.

“It slipped out!” Noah throws his hands up defensively. “He was mad at me for letting you drink so much so I had to explain why!”

“Worst secret keeper ever!” Riley whines.

“You and I both know you told me so you wouldn’t have to tell Kai yourself.” Noah places his hands on his hips. The two sounded like children in a petty argument.

“Lies!” Riley says but she know he’s right. “How would you feel if I told Kai about Notre Dame?”

“Riley!” Noah gasps.

“What about Notre Dame?” Kai’s anger is momentarily traded for confusion.

“Okay, can we halt all arguments and hatred towards me for five minutes?” Lucas interrupts. “We need to leave before you get caught.”

“I can handle this, Friar.” Kai rejects him yet again.

“Clearly you could use the help.” Lucas calmly stresses his point.

“Suddenly wonder boy wants to swoop in and save the day.” Kai snaps. “Where were you two years ago? Tell me? When this goddamn ray of sunshine couldn’t go a day without having a panic attack? Three months worth of panic attacks to be exact.”

“Kai?” Riley stands there feeling betrayed. Not even Noah ‘the worst secret keeper ever’ had shared this private part of Riley’s life with anyone. Not since he told Kai about the very first panic attack he stumbled upon back in the courtyard sophomore year.

“I’m sorry, Riley,” Kai turns to her all heated from his words with Lucas. “Over the years I have been your guy. We have shared tears and laughter... We get through each day together, remember? I know I’ve played devil’s advocate in our talks about Lucas even though I know you’re right, you can’t help who you develop feelings for. I’m literally in awe of how graciously and maturely you handled the triangle on your end. But this?” Kai is back to dramatically stressing his words and waving his arms about. “This, dating your best friend for three years, breaking up with her and then telling you he made a mistake, then he brings her to the dance the very same day he claims to still have feelings for you? I don’t even like Maya and I think she deserves better than that. So Lucas can stand there looking like a wounded puppy but wonder boy is lucky words are all I’m throwing at him.”

Lucas did stand to the side looking hurt. Physically, Kai didn’t look like much of a threat to Lucas but the clear passion he had for Riley was enough to shake anyone who crossed her. That and Lucas knew that he deserved every single harsh critique he received.

“So you wonder what my problem is?” Kai scoffs as he turns back to Lucas. “Take your pick.”

“I want to go home now.” Riley deflates. “Lucas can drive, we can take the subway, I’ll walk even... I don’t care anymore.” With slumped shoulders Riley heads for the car park, not allowing anyone else to have any further input. Something about her greatest secret being shared killed her mood completely. Only Noah, Kai and Riley’s parents knew about the panic attacks that started after Thanksgiving. Now Lucas knew, the person she quite possibly wanted to keep them from the most.

“Fine, Lucas can drive. What do I care anymore?” Kai mutters as he escorts a very quiet Noah towards the car park.

Sheepishly, Lucas gets behind the wheel of his car. “Where to?” He asks once everyone is seated, Riley and Noah in the back and an agitated Kai in the passenger seat.

“My house.” Riley answers solemnly. “My parents aren’t home.”

Without another word Lucas puts his car in reverse and exits the car park. Noah looks over at Riley’s sad expression with a frown of his own. Too drunk to think rationally Noah did the best he could to cheer her up.

“Please don’t be upset, Sunshine,” Noah whispers but Riley gives him a smile filled with sadness. In a final attempt to perk her up, Noah pulls out another flask from his jacket pocket. Riley’s eyes widen with confusion, her muddled brain thought this was a magic trick, as she recalled they had drunk all the liquor already. Noah presses his index finger to his lip to tell Riley to keep it secret and he gives it to her to have more.

Lucas - whom at been checking on Riley through his rear view mirror every few minutes - noticed her take a big swig. “Are you seriously giving her more alcohol?” Lucas gets angry at his passenger.

“She’s a big girl, Lucas,” Noah scrunches up his face, “She can make her own decisions.”

“Yeah!” Riley takes another sip, her sadness had washed away now, it was like she had to prove to Lucas that she was past that emotional time in her life. “How do you know I’m not the one who got him drunk?”

“Because that’s not you, Riley,” Lucas states. Riley folds her arms and looks out the window without another word.

Once out front of her brownstone, everyone piles out of Lucas’ car, the driver included. Kai turns to him with another mean look as he struggles to help his stumbling boyfriend up the stairs.

“Look, you have your hands full with Noah, I’ll help take care of Riley and then I’ll be gone, okay?” Lucas tries to reason with him.

“Fine.” Kai huffs and makes his way into the building.

“Thanks for the lift but I’ve got it from here.” Riley tries to wave him off but he continues to follow her up the front steps leading to the door.

“Riley, I’m trying to help,” Lucas sighs.

“I don’t need your he-” Riley trips on the first step and grazes her knee on the cement, tearing her black stockings in the process.

Lucas helps pick her up but she shakes him off and continues up the steps on her own. Lucas follows Riley all the way into her living room where Kai already stood with Noah trying to baby him with a glass of water.

“You two can stay in Auggie’s room.” Riley rocks on the heels of her black ankle boots.

“Alright, Noah, lets get you into bed.” Kai has an arm wrapped around his boyfriend trying to prop him up as they head for the stairs.

Noah exaggerates a playful giggle.

“Don’t be cute. I’m mad at you.” Kai fails to scold Noah.

“Malachi.” Noah says in a baby voice, stressing the name with more syllables than it actually had.

“You know I hate when you call me that.” Kai whispers embarrassed.

“Malachi.” Noah giggles again, this time singing Kai’s full name and Kai’s groan fades as they reach the top of the stairs.

“Well, thanks for the help, Lucas, it’s been fun.. We should do it again sometime.” Riley goofily pokes up her thumb. “I take it you know your way out. Drive safe!”

“You know there’s no chance I’m leaving you like this.” Lucas eyes her.

“A girl can dream right?” Riley sighs. The brunette turns on her feet and stumbles upstairs with Lucas close on her trail. The moment Riley enters her bedroom she’s hit with a radiating heat. She slips her coat off and fans her face with her hands.

“Did you leave the heater on?” Lucas pulls at his tie to loosen it.

“The cat must have sat on the remote,” Riley pants dramatically as she searches for the remote which she eventually finds on her desk and turns it off.

“You don’t have a cat?” Lucas raises a brow.

“Auggie got one for his birthday a few months ago” Riley walks over to the bay window and opens it.

“I didn’t know that..” Lucas mumbles.

“Why would you?” Riley hangs half her body out the window trying to cool down, “We’re not friends.”

Her words stung but he knew he deserved a lot worse coming from her. Especially after what Kai woke him up to.

“You can go now,” Riley sits up.

“Riles..”

“Don’t call me that!” Riley jumps to her feet.

“I’m sorry, I’m just trying to help you,” Lucas apologises.

“I already told you, I don’t need your help, nor do I want your help!” Riley waves her hands around frantically, “I’m fine on my own. I’m not your problem anymore.”

“You were never a problem,” Lucas reaches out for her but she pulls away.

“Dont,” Riley softens, “Just please, don’t.”

“Regardless of what you think Riley I never stopped caring about you,” Lucas tries to find her gaze, “So I can’t walk away from you when you’re like this.”

“Fine, do whatever you want. I need a drink,” Riley mumbles and Lucas gives her a disapproving look, “Of water!” She rolls her eyes.

“Right,” he chuckles quietly, “I’ll be right back.” He disappears to get that for her and Riley paces around the room all worked up.

Whether it was the alcohol, her anxiety or a dangerous cocktail of them both Riley starts having another panic attack and suddenly the room is a thousand degrees again and she’s stuck with her dress zipper halfway down and the fitted bodice feels like it’s suffocating her.

Lucas returns with a glass in hand and adverts his eyes when he spots Riley half undressed. The more than tipsy girl stumbles around the room trying to rip the dress from her body.

“I’m so sorry I should have knocked!” Lucas clenches his eyes shut and backs into the door blindly.

“Help me!” Riley whines as she tugs at the neckline trying to get the dress off. It’s still soaked from her snow encounter and and feels frozen against her, even though her skin burned hot underneath.

Lucas cautiously opens his eyes and sets down the water on her dresser. Riley has her back to him as she reaches awkwardly for the zipper.

“The zips caught on some lace,” Lucas struggles to get it undone.

“Cut it off!” Riley gasps for air, “I don’t care just get it off me!”

Lucas gives it another forceful tug and it tears the caught piece of lace and the dress zips down. With her back still to Lucas, Riley frees herself from the top half of her dress and lets out a breath of relief as she clings to the dress now loosely hanging around her hips.

“Can you put something on please?” Lucas averts his eyes again by turning around, considering her whole top half is now bare except for the white lace bra he may have accidentally peeked at when he was helping her.

“Not like it matters anyway,” Riley mumbles under her breath as she takes out an oversized shirt from her drawer, “You’ve heard what they all say about me at school.”

“You know I don’t believe that right?” Lucas frowns to himself.

“The part about me being frigid or the part about me being a lesbian?” Riley asks nonchalantly.

“All of it.” Lucas answers quietly.

“Why not? Everybody else does.” Riley slips the shirt over her head and sits on the edge of her bed to remove her torn stockings. “Even Maya.”

“She didn’t mean that at the dance,” Lucas says, “We were fighting and she took her anger out on you.”

“It’s safe to look,” Riley calls from the bed and Lucas turns around to face her.

“You’re bleeding,” Lucas is by her side in a second.

Riley looks down at her exposed knee that’s trickling with blood, a blank expression on her face. “Must have cut myself outside when I fell.”

Lucas goes to get a wet cloth from the bathroom and kneels down beside Riley as he cleans her up. He gently dabs it and Riley’s too far gone to register that it should actually hurt. Instead she starts giggling uncontrollably.

“What’s so funny?” Lucas finds himself smiling at her, “Is it ticklish?”

“No,” Riley covers her mouth to hold in the laughter, “I was just thinking about the time we went to the zoo in middle school.”

Lucas finishes fixing her up and sits beside her on the bed, “You were so excited to see the meerkats you tripped over and cut your knee,” Lucas looks back fondly at memory.

Riley lowers her back and lays down on the bed with her feet still dangling over the edge.

“You should have some water and sleep this off, before you feel sick,” Lucas bites his lip looking down at her.

Riley makes a quiet humming noise with glazed eyes.

“Can I ask you something?” Lucas says quietly.

“Why not?” Riley shrugs. “Seems like everyone gets to know my secrets these days...”

“The panic attacks..” Lucas has trouble finding the words. “I didn’t know...”

“That was the idea.” Riley wriggles slightly in place. “Kai gives you too much credit.” Riley sighs. “He makes it sound like you’re the reason I had them.”

“I’m not?” Lucas asks concerned.

“Maybe you were a factor,” Riley shrugs one shoulder, “But so was Maya, Farkle, Issy, Zay.. It was after Thanksgiving. I’d lost my friends.”

“If that upset you so much why did you tell Maya you didn’t want to be friends anymore?” Lucas questions.

“Why do you think?” Riley shares a deflated laugh.

“Maya never explained anything, she just said that you two weren’t friends anymore and she didn’t want to talk about it..”

Riley rolls her eyes and Lucas notices. “That’s not what happened?” He asks.

“No it is.” Riley exaggerates a smile. “I told her that I made new friends and we had grown apart.”

“That’s not what happened?” Lucas shifts awkwardly.

“You really believe that I, Riley Matthews, would allow myself to naturally grow apart from my friends?” Riley sits up and gives him a funny look.

“I guess not, no.” Lucas mumbles.

“Yet not a single one of my friends questioned it.” Riley’s fake exaggerated smile returns.

“Riley..”

“No, I know.” Riley holds a hand up to stop him. “I can’t get mad at people for believing what I tell them but you can relax, Lucas. My anxiety was not your fault it’s my brain, my feelings. You wouldn’t understand.”

“I’d like to try and understand.” Lucas says genuinely.

“There’s no need to.” Riley shakes her head. “I worked past that years ago. I’m good now... Well actually I was good but then you opened your stupid mouth and sprouted some blah blah in the library.” The alcohol still in Riley’s system made her have hot and cold mood swings confusing herself and Lucas with how she really felt.

“I don’t think we should discuss this right now.”

“What do you mean we shouldn’t discuss this right now?” Riley scoffs. “I haven't spoken to you in over two years and then you come out with this nonsense about making a mistake. Why would you say that? Why now, with only six months left of school?”

“I know, I should have said something earlier.”

“Nooo,” Riley drags out the word. “You shouldn’t have said anything at all. The worst part of all is that you say that and then you still take Maya to the dance afterwards.”

“What?” Confusion waves over Lucas. “I didn’t- No- Maya and I are just friends.”

“I never blamed you for choosing Maya, it hurt - a lot - but I never could dislike you for it.” Riley lets out a breath. “Believe me I tried. I tried to hate you or at least feel negative towards you in some way like Kai did because hating you was easier than missing you... but I couldn’t.” Riley buries her face in her palms and laughs. “But this number you pulled today, the library, the dance... Maybe I should try that hate thing again.”

“Riley..”

“I don’t want to talk about it anymore, forget I said anything.” Riley waves her hands about. “I’m tired. I want to sleep.”

Lucas stands up and pulls back one corner of Riley’s covers and motions for her to climb in. The brunette doesn’t protest, she wraps herself in the blanket and wriggles down into a comfortable position.

Faint jiggles of a bell sees Riley smile. She snaps her fingers and softly calls out towards the noise. “Vie, come to bed.” Then, seconds later, in trots a black fir kitten with big but dark eyes. She jumps up onto the bed and snuggles by Riley’s chest.

“Good girl, Violet.” Riley pats her gently.

Lucas chuckles softly at first and then it picks up into a rather hearty laughter. “Did you name her?”

“Yes. Are you making fun of my kitten?” Riley coaxes her head.

“No,” Lucas shakes his head as he tries to control his laughter. “It’s just, Violet the kitten...”

“She’s my purple cat.” Riley smirks.

Lucas’ laughter eventually tapers off completely, his smile fades into something sadder. “I’ve really missed you.”

Riley didn’t like that Lucas said that so she doesn’t respond. Lucas sits on the floor facing Riley, his back pressed up against the bay window. Riley’s eyes flick over to him for a moment but then back on a purring Violet.

“Where did this ‘wonder boy’ comment come from?” Lucas questions.

A small smile creeps onto Riley’s face. “It was Caitlin. Hercules is her favourite Disney movie. She says she relates to Meg’s cynicism.”

“Should I be offended?” Lucas asks.

“Probably.” Riley’s smile remains. Quiet falls upon them once more.

“You lied.” Lucas says quietly after a moment of silence.

“Excuse me?” Riley knits her brows in confusion.

“You told me you were relieved when I didn’t choose you.” Lucas explains. “You lied.”

“I also told you I loved you like a brother once.” Riley says simply. “You believed me then too.”

“The first mistake of many.” Lucas sighs. “I made a real mess of things.”

“So did I but I moved past it.” Riley shrugs. “You should too.”

“Letting you go was the biggest mistake of my life.”

“And falling in love you was mine.” Riley’s words come out softly even though they cut Lucas like knives.

“Riley, I’m so sorry.” Lucas pleads with her.

“Me too,” Riley gives him a sweet smile, “Goodnight, Lucas.” She rolls over to face away from him.

“Night, Riles.” he whispers but she’s already asleep.

Around 2am Riley wakes shivering. She’s freezing cold after going to sleep in only an oversized t-shirt. Sleepily she pulls sweatpants out of her dresser and fumbles around in the dark looking for the heater remote to turn it back on. It’s as she’s about to climb back into bed that she realises Lucas is still in her room.

Riley looks over at the bay window, he’s sitting on the floor but has his head resting in his folded arms that lay on the seat of the window. He’s facing the bed, clearly he fell asleep as he watched over her. Riley pauses for a moment and then takes the throw blanket from the end of her bed and gently covers him with it. He stirs lightly but doesn’t wake up.

Even after Lucas did something that would justify annoyance and animosity towards him Riley couldn’t find it within herself to hate him and as she watched over him sleeping peacefully, Riley knew she would’t ever be able to.

END NOTES + Visuals dskjfh

I thought this dress was really pretty that I found on pinterest and would look lovely on Riley for winter formal so I thought I’d a include the picture for you all! Imagine she wore black stockings and ankle boots, maybe even a nice thin black chocker or something to play against the softness of the dress :)

Thank you to everyone who suggested colleges for Noah. The main being Notre Dame so I went with that! Thank you to everyone who messaged me and let me pick their brains about it to you are so wonderful!!! More on colleges in the upcoming chapters.

As for this one..... I hope I remembered to put everything in.. It feels messy because it is messy, things won't be explained properly until next chapter and in future chapters... Its a ride fam, stick with me lfkghdfkjlhg

I have been slack with tagging people I am SORRY!!!!! I hope I haven't forgotten any one this time ...

@jenn0bi @plutoxriley @pamela-barron @nicolecolin @brassqueen @renait-courageux @helenpenhallxw @dallas258

#rucas #rucas au #rucas fic

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miningtransport · 7 years

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Sightseeing Car

July 4, 2017

I think since the Fourth of July is a travel day, that means I'll be sidestepping the holiday altogether. It’s such a hot, dusty, crowded holiday sometimes and we’re sliding toward authoritarianism right now, so skipping it seems fine. But it doesn't work out like that on the Coastal Starlight Amtrak train from Salem to Seattle.

By the time we cross the Columbia River and head up into Western Washington, I've abandoned my seat in coach and am stationed in the sightseeing car. On those big trains that come all the way up from L.A., the coach cars feel like dormitories. People are really camping out in there. There’s little babies, and odors, and sleeping bags. More than half of the curtains have been pulled shut. The sightseeing car is full of light and windows, with the seats facing out.

A couple of volunteer park rangers are narrating what we see out the windows. They have a lot of good information about rivers, the industrial stuff we pass, ships taking grain to Hong Kong, steel plants. Osprey nests. Local history. It's a bit cheesy at times, but I enjoy the narration of the ride, and it's kind of cute how many people are happy to be talked at by the old duffers in vests.

Different people sit around me and then depart. They half listen, half talk amongst themselves. A young man in head to toe Seahawks gear sits down awkwardly in the seat next to me for a while. I take him to be Middle Eastern. Two young Asian women across the aisle seem to just be getting to know each other. I catch snippets of their conversation. “It can be hard. Do your parents speak English?” “No, do yours?”

I’m half listening, half writing in my journal about my weekend at the coast. A little voice says, “Excuse me, but is anyone sitting here?” It’s a black girl of about 8 years old. She is wearing pink sweat pants and a grey sweatshirt with pink stars on it. She has many long black braids. She’s confident, she’s polite, she’s smiling. For the moment she’s unaccompanied by an adult. I tell her to sit down. She’s peering out the window but also keeps blatantly looking over at me writing. “Whatchu writin about?” she asks. I tell her, “Just my weekend. Stuff that happened.” She looks disappointed, like she doubted I had a very interesting weekend, and if it were her writing it would be something juicier.

A little while later, an older man comes in the car. I don’t take him for her grandpa at first because even though his skin is dark brown like hers, he has one long braid down his back and his facial features and body language remind me of the old Native guys in the town where I grew up. But he is her grandpa and they move a little further down the car to where there were two seats together. He is spare and stone-faced, with a ball-cap on and plain jeans and a t-shirt. He doesn’t react much to the girl and certainly not to anyone else around him, but she merrily fills the picture in. “Yes, this is my grandpa,” I hear her say to someone across the aisle. She’s turned around in her chair, long arms hanging off the back. “We go to the lake, but usually only when it’s good for fishing. We catch a lot of fish. And eat them.”

I remind myself not to stereotype. Just because he seems really Native American, that doesn’t mean he is. He’s just a travel weary guy with an inscrutable face. And the whole inscrutable face thing, that’s stereotyping too.

We pass a tree farm, and one of the volunteers is saying in the microphone, “This is a Christmas tree farm, but where on Earth do you think you could use a 30-foot tall Christmas tree?” The little girl’s hand shoots up. The old white guy points to her and she says, “IN A MANSION.” He says, “Well no, they just cut some of the branches off to make wreaths and the rest of the tree keeps growing.”

She turns back to the window, unfazed. She seems to know her answer was better than his. She seems pleased with herself, and reasonably sure others are pleased with her too. Not in a show-offy way, but just in a nice way.

I hear two people behind me talking. Their travel plans were both thrown off by the train derailment a couple of days earlier. They commiserate, and then start talking about other things. They both live in Seattle. The woman is white, in her late twenties or early thirties. I’d taken a peek at her earlier. I don’t know about the guy. He sat down after I looked last. I don’t want to look over and be obvious.

Then I hear her saying, “You know, that one, that loud-mouthed African woman.” I think, “Who can she be talking about?” and then realize she means Kshama Sawant, an Indian-American councilwoman. The woman is saying that raising the minimum wage to $15 has “ruined Seattle” and caused businesses to close their doors. The man she’s talking to says “Um… that’s all really… debatable.” The woman goes on to say that she herself got a pay bump when the minimum wage was raised, but she says it scornfully, like it was no good to her.

A man on the other side of them overhears the exchange and comes into the conversation. The two men are ignoring the woman now, choosing not in fact to have that debate. They are talking between themselves about volunteering for this or that Democratic state legislator’s campaign. They are both really well versed in the nuances of local politics.

The woman butts back in and says loudly, “Are you Hispanic?” The man sitting next to her says “Uh, no. Not at all.” She says “Ok, well I was just asking a question.” Then she says, “Where are you from, then?” He says, “I was born and raised in Columbus, Ohio.” He is keeping his voice more casual than she is, but I can hear a certain tension sliding in. I can’t take it anymore, and glance over. The young man she’s talking to is the one I’d seen before, the possibly Middle Eastern (?) man in Seahawks gear. “Ohhhh” I think, as it all slides into place.

We’re approaching Centralia now. The little girl is still engaged with the scenery, the narration, her braids, her neighbors, herself. Her grandpa is still staring straight ahead thinking unknowable thoughts and betraying no emotion whatsoever.

The guys at the front with microphones are saying, “Centralia was founded by George Washington. No, not that George Washington!” They go on to explain that George Washington was the son of “a white servant girl and an enslaved black man” in Wherever, USA. His mother was afraid he would be sold into slavery, so she begged some people going west to adopt her son and take him with them. The family moved farther and farther west and I think George was a young man by the time they got to Washington. Stories of his entrepreneurial pluck. His ingenuity. How much the town loved him. How he was honored when he died in 1905.

I’m thinking, “Well, this is told like such a happy ending, but it’s a tragedy that this guy’s mother had to give him away because of slavery.” I think of Charles Mudede’s criticism of Nicole Brodeur—writing as if only white people are reading. I figure that’s what we’re all doing all the time. That’s America for you. One long rolling micro aggression, just like this train ride.

The train stops at Centralia, and our car is blocking an intersection. Cars are stopped waiting for the tracks to clear. A white couple in white middle age walk up and stop there, waiting. I look at them and think, “So you live in a town that was founded by a black man. Huh. Looks like Trump country.” I have no idea. I’m just stereotyping. He’s kind of sweaty and ruddy with a beer gut under his t-shirt and mussed up hair and sunglasses. She’s prim in her culottes with her little bob. I have no idea. But they seem very white and they could be Trump voters.

Then they’re smiling and doing big waves and I look over and see that they’re responding to the little black girl in the sweat suit and braids. She’s cheesing for them through the window. She’s waving like she’s royalty and her subjects have flocked to the tracks to watch her roll through her kingdom. I look to see if her grandpa looks amused. He is stone-faced as ever. I think, “maybe he’s like this all the time, or maybe he’s just really sick of white people.” As the train continues to sit there, the couple and the little girl both get distracted, but then as we pull away, there is a last beaming, waving connection—this time initiated by the white man on the sidewalk, who cranes his head and tips forward and makes the girl laugh with his goofy waving.

We’re running along the coastline now, and there are people down on the beach, on the rocks, on boats, on docks with their legs dangling off – mostly white people. The volunteer guys call our attention to a small island out in the bay, Fox Island. They begin another historical story, about how there was an Indian war because the governor of Washington was going to put “four large tribes and one small tribe” on a reservation out on that tiny island. I hear that the old white guys are trying, that they are saying the governor was responsible for the war, they are saying the names of the individual nations. They are saying it’s ridiculous that someone was trying to put all those people on a reservation on such a little island.

I think “HOLD ON” that’s not a reservation, that’s internment.

And then the guy speaking says that the tribes lost that battle but they “kind of won the war” because they got larger, separate reservations.

HOW IS THAT WINNING.

God. White people!

HOW IS THAT WINNING.

South of Tacoma, the crowds get bigger, browner, more citified. From the train it looks like some idealized version of a happy, multiethnic, multicultural society. Hijabis strolling in the sun. Big latino (latinx?) families. Kids running around. Black women with big natural hair and flowy skirts, swishing in the breeze. It’s just everybody. And people look happy. Tweets from that morning’s Black Twitter flash before my eyes. What the Fourth of July means, has meant to black people. How people find a way to carve out their own meaning, find their own sources of joy.

I read Black Twitter, and maybe I’m a bit of a lurker for following so many great black women writers on Twitter and reading their blogs and think pieces. But I figure if I keep listening to them, maybe I’ll be ready just on the off chance that I write something someday that finds its way to one of them. Because I don’t want to write like only white people are reading, or talk like only white people are listening, or experience the U.S. like only a white person can.

#train travel #race #white people #america #eavesdropping

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thelastspeecher · 7 years

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In Another World - Chapter Twelve: Yield to It

Prologue Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Epilogue AO3

Holy cow, it has been over a month since I’ve updated, and I bring with me an oldie but goodie: One of Us AU! And there’s only one more chapter until I’ve finally finished the fic, which I’m hoping to post sometime during spring break this week. I don’t know about any of you guys, but I’ll be so relieved to finally be done.

“The only way to get rid of temptation is to yield to it.” – Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray

Date: August 25, 2012

Dimension: AH-7*T

Location: Gravity Falls, OR

Weather: Sunny and warm; the perfect summer day

Observations:

Upon my arrival, I initially mistook this reality as being one of the few where Bill’s presence is not felt. After years allowing him to peruse my mind and body, I have formed a sort of “link” with him. It is not one I enjoy (rather, I despise it), but it allows me to know when Bill is a current force wherever I am. I did not feel that in this reality. Due to that factor alone, I was tempted to cease my interdimensional travels here. But I quickly learned that it would not be possible. This reality has an active version of myself. It’s for the best, really. I must continue my search for my own home, as imperfect as it may be.

Although this reality may not currently be struggling with Bill, they have had some recent troubles.

Much of the town was destroyed shortly before my arrival. Buildings are being slowly returned to normal, including my own home.

I saw some graffiti that suggests Bill was the source of the recent troubles. It is impossible to mistake that eye.

The townsfolk of this reality are even more tightlipped than in other realities. Whenever I attempt to ask them questions, they shout “Never mind all that!” and run off.

My own twin brother is regarded as a town hero. Clearly, something is desperately wrong with this reality.

Another hint that this reality is “messed up” (as I have overheard some teens say): I don’t appear to be human!

The times I have caught glimpses of this reality’s version of myself, I have seen a person I can identify, but do not recognize.

This reality’s version of myself is constantly glowing, and I have yet to see him eat.

This reality’s version of myself randomly appears and disappears, and I have heard his voice in my mind twice. Though those may have been my own thoughts.

Conclusions:

In this reality, I am a demon! And not from birth. Those are easily recognizable. No, in this reality, Bill recruited me to join his gang of miscreants. It is obvious from the aura this version of myself possesses, and his being tied to a token. Truly despicable.

Notes:

What could possibly possess me to join Bill and his ilk? Well, what could possess me, other than Bill, to do such a thing?

The people of the town clearly know of Bill. It saddens my heart. No one should know of him, let alone these townsfolk, who were an audience and unwilling participants to the apocalypse. At least, from what little information I have gathered, this seems to be the case.

-----

“I’ll join you.” He had no plan, but no options. He was winging it. Ford tried to ignore the voice at the back of his mind.

Improvisation is not one of your strengths. What are you doing? Bill blinked (or winked; it was hard to tell).

“What?” He seemed taken aback. Ford relished the feeling. Very few people could surprise Bill Cipher.

“You heard me. I’ll join you. You’re right. With you, that’s the only place I’ll ever belong.” Bill began to laugh. Cold sweat broke out on Ford’s skin.

“Well, well, well, Fordsy, never thought you’d do it. All right, you think you’ve got what it takes to roll with my crew? Be my guest.” A beam of blue energy shot from Bill’s eye and struck Ford squarely in the chest. Electricity rippled across Ford’s body, tickling his skin before digging in deeper, past his epidermis, immersing itself in every cell. He gasped at the sensation of sheer power flowing through his veins. Bill’s cronies laughed. Or cheered. Or some combination of the two. Ford wasn’t quite sure. Merely keeping his head was taking all of his willpower.

“Absolute power corrupts absolutely.” And even though Bill wouldn’t dare give me absolute power, he would give me just enough to be corrupted. Ford grit his teeth and formed fists, his fingernails digging into the palms of his hands. Think of Mabel and Dipper. Think of your family. Stay grounded. For them.

“It’s one heck of a rush, isn’t it?” Bill asked gleefully. “Goes straight to your head.” Ford continued to stay on the ground, prone. “All right, that’s enough. Stand up. You’re one of us now, you gotta act like it.” Ford stood up slowly. Bill rubbed the area where his chin would be if he had one. “Not too shabby, Sixer. You make a decent Henchmaniac.”

“Bill!” Ford’s blood ran cold at the sound of his nephew’s voice.

Is it blood? I’ve effectively sold my soul to Bill. Who’s to say he hasn’t replaced my blood with some other fluid? He’s not even restricted to fluids, actually. Maybe my heart is pumping plasma now. Do I have a heart?

“Now, isn’t this interesting,” Bill said, his voice turning ominous mid-sentence. Ford watched Bill close in on Dipper, dread mounting. “My old puppet is back for an encore. Or maybe he’s back to follow in his idol’s footsteps.”

“I’d never join you!” Dipper shouted. His voice cracked, but for once, he didn’t seem concerned about it. He looked at Ford. “Great Uncle Ford, what are you doing?”

“Joining my crew, isn’t it obvious?” Bill said. One of Bill’s cronies put an arm around Ford’s shoulders. Ford fought back a shudder of disgust. “I hate to break it to you, kid, but the offer’s a one-time thing. You’re not invited to this party.” Dipper glowered. “Heh. You’re cute when you’re angry. Hey, Sixer, how’s about you take care of the kid?”

“W-what?” Ford stammered. He was roughly shoved forward by the Henchmaniacs.

“Think of it like hazing, only better! To sign up for this frat, you’ve gotta punish the kid.” Bill picked Dipper up by his shirt and set him down in front of Ford. Dipper looked at Ford desperately. Ford could see conflicting emotions warring in his nephew’s eyes.

He wants to believe that this is all an act, but he’s not sure if he does.

“Go on, Sixer,” Bill said. His voice dropped multiple octaves. “Or do you wanna watch me handle it, and then handle you?” Ford swallowed.

I have to play the game. I have to play the game. He raised a six-fingered hand. Dipper backed away nervously.

“G-great Uncle Ford…”

“I’d apologize, my boy,” Ford began, as his hand began to glow red with energy. “But I’m not sorry.” A blast emanated from his palm and stuck Dipper in the chest, throwing him into a tree. Dipper wheezed, the wind having been knocked out of him.

“A bit sloppy on the technique, but you’ve got potential,” Bill said, putting an arm around Ford’s shoulders. “Some practice and you’ll be good enough for the big time. But before that…” Bill snapped his fingers. The three journals, which had fallen out of Dipper’s bag, rose into the air and caught on fire. Ford bit back a shout.

My life’s work!

“The journals!” Dipper shouted.

“Not much of a threat now, are you?” Bill taunted. He turned back to his Henchmaniacs. “Now, can anybody remind me why we came here?”

“To get weird!” one of the monsters (8-Ball?) shouted excitedly.

“That’s right! VIP party at the Fearamid. Oh, and 8-Ball, Teeth, you’ve earned a treat. Have the kid for a snack. Henchmaniacs, roll out!” Pyronica (the only one that Ford could recognize easily) picked Ford up and threw him into the car that Bill had just conjured. As they flew away, Ford watched Dipper run into the forest, chased by two demons.

Good luck, Dipper.

-----

Ford was leaning against one of the walls in the ghastly Fearamid when Keyhole ran up to Bill’s throne.

“Boss, we’ve got a problem!” Keyhole said desperately. Ford continued to tap his toes to the beat of the godawful music, pretending to enjoy the party. He focused on the muted conversation between Keyhole and Bill.

Maybe it’s just muted because I’m getting hearing damage from these demons screeching. After all this is over, I might have to borrow Stanley’s hearing aid. Ford choked back a groan. Stanley…

“What is it this time?” Bill asked, annoyed. “I’ve already taken care of Mabel, and my new watchdog took care of Old Fezzy.” Ford could feel Bill’s gaze on him. He took a sip of the “time punch”, hoping his hands weren’t shaking.

“We can’t escape,” Keyhole said. “We’ve tried everything! There’s some sort of force field around the town!” Ford’s cup slipped from his hands.

Gravity Falls’ Natural Law of Weirdness Magnetism! This chaos hasn’t spread across the globe. Not yet, at least. He knelt down to pick up his dropped cup, continuing to listen.

“I get the feeling that a certain six-fingered freak might be able to help out with that,” Bill said ominously. “Ford!” he shouted over the music. Ford swallowed and walked over to Bill.

“Y-yes, Boss?” he asked, barely choking out the second word.

“We’ve got a problem, and you’re just the person to fix it.” Bill steepled his fingers. “There’s some sort of force field surrounding the town, and my weirdness can’t escape to spread across this miserable little planet.”

“That’s a shame.” Bill’s eye narrowed.

“Yes. It is.” Bill crossed his legs. “You’re the one who did all the research, Sixer. What’s going on?”

Think fast, think fast! Ford opened his mouth, but no words came out. Damn! Of course you couldn’t think of anything. The last time you tried to improvise a plan, you ended up becoming a demon, and have had zero opportunities to try to take down this operation from the inside.

“C’mon, genius, I may control time itself, but I don’t have all day,” Bill said impatiently.

“W-well, it could be-” Ford began to stammer out. He was cut off by a loud crash and roar.

“Hey, I just fixed that door!” Bill shouted. Ford spun around. There was a gaping hole in the side of the Fearamid, through which a giant robot could be seen. Ford fought back a grin.

It must be Fiddleford’s work!

“So the mortals are trying to fight back, huh? Adorable!” Bill said, leaning back in his throne. “Henchmaniacs, you know what to do! Take ‘em out!” Ford began to move toward the door. “Uh-uh. Not so fast, Fordsy.” A glowing blue chain manifested out of thin air and latched around Ford’s neck. He looked back. The chain was hooked to Bill’s throne. “I know you’ve been trying to play me, Sixer,” Bill said ominously, over the sounds of battle. “You’re a scientist, not an actor. You’re staying here until I get the secret to world weirdness out of you. And I don’t care about damaging you in the process.” Ford swallowed nervously.

-----

Shortly after Bill had joined the fight, Ford heard the sound of screaming. But it didn’t seem to be coming from the battle between the robot and Bill. It was much too close, and getting louder by the second. He looked up. People were descending from the sky into the Fearmid.

Mabel is truly something else, if she can turn her sweaters into parachutes. He watched Dipper, Mabel, Wendy, Soos, Stan, and people he didn’t recognize hit the ground. They stood up slowly, looking around the room.

“Great Uncle Ford!” Mable shouted. She began to rush towards him, but was held back by Dipper.

“No, Mabel. He betrayed us. Don’t you remember?”

“Yeah, he stuck me in that bubble,” Stan said grumpily. “Last time I go outside during the apocalypse to get the newspaper.”

“But he’s- he’s chained!” Mabel said. “If he was really working for Bill, he wouldn’t be tied up like that!”

“It could just all be a trick,” Dipper said. Ford’s heart sunk.

“Dipper, please, believe me, I’m on your side.”

“I’m having trouble believing that,” Dipper said. “Maybe it’s the glowing demon eyes!”

“Please, Dipper! I know how to take down Bill!”

“Well, duh, you’re a demon, too,” Wendy said. Ford looked at Stan.

“Stanley, do you trust me?” he asked quietly. A million emotions crossed Stan’s face.

“That’s a heck of a question, after everything you’ve done,” he said gruffly. “Causing the apocalypse, turning my own family against me, not even thanking me for bringing you back.”

“Stan…”

“But you’re not lying,” Stan finished. Ford blinked in surprise. Stan glowered. “Don’t think I’m going soft on you. You’re just not a lying demon like that dang nacho chip.” He walked over to Ford and dug a bobby pin out of his pocket. Stan began to pick the lock on Ford’s collar. “You’re a normal demon, and the only sentient thing here that knows how to stop the world from ending.” The collar fell away from Ford’s neck. “And you’re my brother and junk, too, I guess.”

“Thank you, Stanley.” Stan’s facial expression softened.

“Yeah, whatever,” he said. “Now, how do we save the world?”

-----

Stan tossed the journal back and forth between his hands.

“Let me get this straight,” he began, “your ‘essence’ is linked to this now?”

“Yes,” Ford said. “It’s one of the side effects of being a demon. To remain on this plane of existence, I need a token.”

“So then I probably shouldn’t burn it,” Stan said. He sighed. “Soos, put the gasoline back in the closet.”

“You got it, Mr. Pines!”

“Isn’t that the same closet the fireworks are kept in?” Dipper asked.

“Your point being?” Stan said frostily.

“…Never mind.” Dipper, Mabel, Stan, Ford, and Soos were back at the Shack, making plans. For Dipper and Mabel, the plans were for their joint 13th birthday party. For Stan and Ford, the plans were for their seafaring trip. Soos didn’t need any plans. He just liked being there when plans were made.

“Yes, Stan, I would greatly appreciate it if you could avoid burning my only tether to this particular reality,” Ford said snippily.

“Why didn’t Bill have one of these?” Dipper asked. Ford adjusted his glasses.

“Well, there are different classes of demons. There are dream demons, which Bill was, there are possession demons, which Bill was, there are-”

“Yeah, yeah, we get it, there’s lots of demons,” Stan said.

“What kind are you?” Mabel asked.

“…I have yet to figure that out, my dear.”

“Ooh, so it’s a challenge!”

“Yes,” Ford said with a smile. Dipper frowned.

“Wait, Great Uncle Ford, you said that the journal was the only thing keeping you on this reality. Does that mean you can visit other realities, then?” Dipper asked.

“Theoretically, yes.”

“Whoa,” Mabel said. Her eyes shone. “You could visit a reality where everyone’s a dog!” Ford chuckled at his niece’s optimism.

“I think I’ll stay in this reality for some time, however. I’ve done the dimension-hopping thing before, and I desperately need a break from it.”

#One of Us AU #Stanford Pines #Bill Cipher #Dipper Pines #Mabel Pines #Stanley Pines #Gravity Falls #In Another World #fanfiction #my writing #my stuff #speecher speaks

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failuretofrag · 7 years

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1: when you have cereal, do you have more milk than cereal or more cereal than milk? I think it's about even. 2: do you like the feeling of cold air on your cheeks on a wintery day? Yessss 3: what random objects do you use to bookmark your books? Anything that's flat. Once I used a condom rapper. 4: how do you take your coffee/tea? Coffee with lots of cream, tea with sugar. 5: are you self-conscious of your smile? Slightly. 6: do you keep plants? Not anymore. 7: do you name your plants? I had a Japanese peace lily named Lily once. 8: what artistic medium do you use to express your feelings? Poetry. 9: do you like singing/humming to yourself? Yess 10: do you sleep on your back, side, or stomach? Side 11: what's an inner joke you have with your friends? So you're telling me.. a chicken fried this rice? 12: what's your favorite planet? Jupiter. 13: what's something that made you smile today? Jessi. 14: if you were to live with your best friend in an old flat in a big city, what would it look like? Oh man, I have no idea. 15: go google a weird space fact and tell us what it is! All of space is completely silent. 16: what's your favorite pasta dish? Probably Tomato Basil Penne 17: what color do you really want to dye your hair? Auburn 18: tell us about something dumb/funny you did that has since gone down in history between you and your friends and is always brought up. They call me Ralph a lot because I got super drunk one night and couldn't stop puking. 19: do you keep a journal? what do you write/draw/ in it? I have a sketch book that I doodle in. 20: what's your favorite eye color? Blue. 21: talk about your favorite bag, the one that's been to hell and back with you and that you love to pieces. I have so many bags, but my favourite one is a little cross shoulder bag that is my EDC. 22: are you a morning person? Not particularly, but I can wake up fairly fast. 23: what's your favorite thing to do on lazy days where you have 0 obligations? Sleep. 24: is there someone out there you would trust with every single one of your secrets? Two people, actually. Jessi and Gemini. 25: what's the weirdest place you've ever broken into? Uh, I broke into an old shed that was filled with hundreds of keys. 26: what are the shoes you've had for forever and wear with every single outfit? Under armor gym shoes? Lmao. 27: what's your favorite bubblegum flavor? Bubblegum. 28: sunrise or sunset? Sunset. 29: what's something really cute that one of your friends does and is totally endearing? Kim refers to my gf and I as Gag a lot, talking us up and such. 30: think of it: have you ever been truly scared? Yes. 31: what is your opinion of socks? do you like wearing weird socks? do you sleep with socks? do you confine yourself to white sock hell? really, just talk about socks. Okay so I use to love having colorful mismatched socks, then my OCD took over, so now I have 30 pairs of the same ankle black socks. 32: tell us a story of something that happened to you after 3AM when you were with friends. Coming down from ecstasy highs like 8 of us went to Denny's and just stayed there eating and joking for like 3 hours. 33: what's your fave pastry? Cheese Danish 34: tell us about the stuffed animal you kept as a kid. what is it called? what does it look like? do you still keep it? I had the Pegasus from Hercules. He was my favourite, but I lost him a few years back. 35: do you like stationary and pretty pens and so on? do you use them often? I actually have a weird obsession with calligraphy and fountain pens. 36: which band's sound would fit your mood right now? Halsey 37: do you like keeping your room messy or clean? I LIKE keeping it clean, but it's usually messy. 38: tell us about your pet peeves! Oh jeez.. loud noises, having to repeat myself, being ignored 39: what color do you wear the most? Black (but that's not a color) so blue 40: think of a piece of jewelry you own: what's it's story? does it have any meaning to you? My class ring! Hell yeah. It's my class ring lmao 41: what's the last book you remember really, really loving? Right Behind You by Gail Giles 42: do you have a favorite coffee shop? describe it! It's a Starbucks, but a really small one that lacks the usual pretentious feel of a Starbucks. 43: who was the last person you gazed at the stars with? Molly 44: when was the last time you remember feeling completely serene and at peace with everything? A couple nights ago. 45: do you trust your instincts a lot? All the time. 46: tell us the worst pun you can think of. Two fish swim into a concrete wall, one turns to the other and goes "Dam" 47: what food do you think should be banned from the universe? Pineapple on pizza. 48: what was your biggest fear as a kid? is it the same today? Nah, as a kid I thought that I'd get kidnapped, and now I know that that'd be a bad move on a kidnappers part. 49: do you like buying CDs and records? what was the last one you bought? Not really, I don't buy music much, and when I do it's to support the artist, but the last one I bought was The Human Condition by Jon Bellion 50: what's an odd thing you collect? Rocks 51: think of a person. what song do you associate with them? Jessi- Guillotine by Jon Bellion 52: what are your favorite memes of the year so far? Cash me Ousside how bow dah 53: have you ever watched the rocky horror picture show? heathers? beetlejuice? pulp fiction? what do you think of them? I liked beetlejuice, and I loved pulp fiction. 54: who's the last person you saw with a true look of sadness on their face? My friend Higgs 55: what's the most dramatic thing you've ever done to prove a point? That's hard to pinpoint. I've done a lot of dramati- I blew up my friends garbage can to prove I could make explosives out of things in his kitchen. 56: what are some things you find endearing in people? Laughs, half smiles, hesitation, voice cracks, eye contact 57: go listen to bohemian rhapsody. how did it make you feel? did you dramatically reenact the lyrics? Lmao, I usually sing along, but I don't think I catch as much of the nostalgia as most. 58: who's the wine mom and who's the vodka aunt in your group of friends? why? Oh my god, so the wine mom is Aze and the vodka aunt is Crusher and I can't explain this very well but trust me. 59: what's your favorite myth? That people only use a small percent of their brain. 60: do you like poetry? what are some of your faves? Neil Hilborn- OCD Shane Koyczan- To This Day Rudy Francisco- Scars 61: what's the stupidest gift you've ever given? the stupidest one you've ever received? I gave my ex a coupon for a free kiss, and I received makeup from my uncle. 62: do you drink juice in the morning? which kind? Nope, coffee is the only thing I can stand. 63: are you fussy about your books and music? do you keep them meticulously organized or kinda leave them be? I like them organized. 64: what color is the sky where you are right now? Blue 65: is there anyone you haven't seen in a long time who you'd love to hang out with? Yeah 66: what would your ideal flower crown look like? Lots of blue and green with white highlights 67: how do gloomy days where the sky is dark and the world is misty make you feel? Amazing. I love gloomy days. 68: what's winter like where you live? Shit. Hot. Not fair. 69: what are your favorite board games? Sorry, Clue, Battleship, Connect four 70: have you ever used a ouija board? No, fuck that shit. 71: what's your favorite kind of tea? Snapple Peach tea 72: are you a person who needs to note everything down or else you'll forget it? Yeah, I have a horrible memory 73: what are some of your worst habits? Nail biting, lip biting, cutting 74: describe a good friend of yours without using their name or gendered pronouns. Tall, dark, hilarious and a force to be reckoned with. 75: tell us about your pets! Baby is my pet. She a cat. She go meow. 76: is there anything you should be doing right now but aren't? Nope 77: pink or yellow lemonade? Pink. 78: are you in the minion hateclub or fanclub? A little of both. 79: what's one of the cutest things someone has ever done for you? This one time I was really sick, and Dani brought me soup and made me eat then helped me get up and shower and stuff. 80: what color are your bedroom walls? did you choose that color? if so, why? Off white. No. I want to redo it with some blood spatter 81: describe one of your friend's eyes using the most abstract imagery you can think of. Oh jeez. No. 82: are/were you good in school? I was bad with good grades. 83: what's some of your favorite album art? This is hard.. I Prevail- Lifelines album. 84: are you planning on getting tattoos? which ones? Already have some, but my next one is going to be a scorpion on my arm with water around it. 85: do you read comics? what are your faves? I use to! I think the series of ones containing the early stages of the relationship between harleyquinn and Ivy are my favourite. 86: do you like concept albums? which ones? They are okay I guess, but I don't really have any.. 87: what are some movies you think everyone should watch at least once in their lives? Fight club American History X The Lorax 88: are there any artistic movements you particularly enjoy? Not particularly 89: are you close to your parents? Not at all. 90: talk about your one of you favorite cities. Austin! I love the people and the environment, it's so relaxing and surprising. 91: where do you plan on traveling this year? I'm not sure yet. 92: are you a person who drowns their pasta in cheese or a person who barely sprinkles a pinch? I fucking love cheese. 93: what's the hairstyle you wear the most? Bed head 94: who was the last person you know to have a birthday? Schultzy 95: what are your plans for this weekend? I'm not sure yet, might be working. 96: do you install your computer updates really quickly or do you procrastinate on them a lot? Procrastinate. 97: myer briggs type, zodiac sign, and hogwarts house? The Commander ENTJ-A I think, Scorpio, Slytherin. 98: when's the last time you went hiking? did you enjoy it? About 4 months ago, and yes I loved it 99: list some songs that resonate to your soul whenever you hear them. AWOLNATION- Sail Jon Bellion- Guillotine Kiiara- Feels 100: if you were presented with two buttons, one that allows you to go 5 years into the past, the other 5 years into the future, which one would you press? why? Neither. Going back is a waste, and going forward is so unknown.

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5hfanfiction · 7 years

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The Confessional Booth (LAUCY)

TRIGGER WARNING: Homophobia, talk of religion, conversion, etc.

“Listen.” I was in the back pew and he was still making my eardrums ring with his loud voice. “God loves all. But homosexuality. That is a sin. The Bible clearly states that it is wrong for a man to lay down with another. This applies to women as well. It is morally indecent. These people should be shamed,” he continued. I was so disgusted. How could my own father say this about regular people; people just like him? People more like me. He didn’t know and I’d never tell him.

He’d told me about the ‘recreational’ centers he sent teenagers to who were ‘afflicted’ with ‘the disease.’ I’d been to those places with my Dad. They were awful. The teenagers there looked so hopeless. I knew they were hopeless. The only reason why I ever volunteered to help out at the center was to run the confessional booth. Girls and boys would come in crying, begging God for mercy, asking me if He loved them. I would always reassure them that their feelings were no sin, and that God loved all.

Do I believe in God? No. But these kids do, and it wrecks their faith to hear my father’s seminars of hatred. So, every weekend I try to piece their self-esteem back together, one confession at a time. I was 17, almost 18. It was agreed in my household that if we wanted to do anything my parents disapproved of, we had to wait until we were 18 and out of the house. But Mike and Clara always reminded us, “We may not be watching when you’re older, but God always sees.”

That gave me the creeps. I couldn’t wait to move out and be with a girl, finally. I hadn’t repressed my feelings since I was 14, but I’d yet to have a girlfriend. It was impossible under the close watch of my parents. But that would all change in June. I just didn’t know it yet…

CHAPTER ONE

A fist pounded loud on my door, waking me up out of my sleep. “Lauren! It’s 6:00! God calls you to wake up and start your day, serving his world as you are His child.” I groaned in contempt and rolled over, stuffing a pillow over both my ears. I heard my father’s footsteps travel down the hall and give the same wake up call to Taylor and Chris, my brother and sister. Taylor followed in his path, lapping up the Jesus regimen, whereas Chris and I saw it was all bullshit. I was thankful for Chris. He was older, and he was often in charge of me when we were home alone, so him and I would leave the house separately and go do what we wanted before our parents got home.

Usually, I would just go and see an R-rated movie, since I wasn’t of age to go do anything else, and in my small church town, I didn’t know anyone who would get me in anywhere. Today was going to be boring. It was a Sunday, and those were the worst days to be a preacher’s daughter because I had to spend most of the day at my least favorite place: church. I had an hour to myself to get ready. First, clothes. I pushed it to the limit in terms of what I dressed. That was my only rebellion besides the secret of my sexuality, and I liked turning heads. Especially when I knew the choir leader Lucy was gay as well. She was stunning, and I wanted her attention. Maybe the right outfit would do the trick?

I smoothed out a black dress that had such a short v-line it almost didn’t exist. I knew how to cut and sew, I was a crafter by heart. So, I took out my tools and got to work, cutting the line down by two inches. That exposed enough cleavage to make me feel hot, but not enough for my parents to notice that I had altered the dress. I put the tools away and put on the dress first, the red thong second, and the black pantyhose third. Next and last for my outfit was my cross.

I sighed as I picked up the symbol of Christianity and rolled my thumb around its silver edges, the chain dangling below. I missed being faithful. It felt nice to believe in a higher power. It felt safe. But my bigoted father ruined religion for me. I couldn’t see a day where I could ever believe again. Maybe someday…

I hooked the necklace together onto my front and slipped on heels. They had to be kitten heels, no stilettos. I could hear my mother’s voice in my head. She loved me and she was more lenient than my dad, but when it came down to it, she’d stand by his word regardless of whether she agreed. She was just as trapped as I was.

After washing my face and applying a heavy layer of makeup that I deemed read sexy but not too sexy for church, I walked downstairs and made a bowl of Cheerios. I wanted my favorite, Lucky Charms, but that would imply I believed in luck and magic, and to quote my father, “There is no luck, there is only God’s will. And there are no magical creatures other than God.” I poured the milk into the bowl after the cheerios and prepared the table for my family. They all took longer to get ready than I did, which I was thankful for because it allowed me some alone time.

I softly and slowly ate my food while I checked my phone. 2 messages. One from my best friend Dinah that read “Hey there girl! I know you’re probably asleep but your boo thang Lucy made an IG page!! Check it out.” and attached the link. My heart stopped. What if she posted selfies? That would just make my morning. I clicked the link and it directed me to Instagram, opening her page, ‘lucylovevives.’ What a cute name. A little childish, but cute. 2 posts already! I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and clicked on the first one. I opened my eyes and smiled. The first post was a picture of Lucy at church with her choir. She was dressed in her blue robe, smiling happily at the camera, music sheets in hand. I loved her smile.

I’d known Lucy since we were children. We hung out all the time. But her family was more liberal, as mine were conservative and when my parents pulled me out of public school and put me into church school, I didn’t really see Lucy except for when we were at church. I didn’t even have her number. She had an angelic voice, though. That was the great thing about church. I loved to hear her sing, especially when there were the holiday choir concerts, when she always had a solo. One Christmas her song brought me to tears after my grandmother passed away.

The next post really struck me. It was a video taken from behind of Lucy singing and playing the piano. Her soft voice started from the first notes of a song I hadn’t heard. An original song. I didn’t know she wrote songs. As she kept singing, I closed my eyes and listened intently. I pictured Lucy in a field, her hand in mine, twirling as rain began to pour. This image solidified in my head and I knew I’d see it again. Probably in my dreams. By the time I opened my eyes and became aware again, the clip was over and I felt the warmth slip from me.

This was the way Lucy made me feel. Footsteps became evident from down the hall and I quickly clicked off my phone and shoved it into my purse hanging on the kitchen chair. I didn’t need any questioning about what I was doing. I acted nonchalant as I ate my cereal and my whole family entered the kitchen. No one said a word. Something was wrong. “Lauren,” my dad started. This wasn’t going to be good. He was using his serious tone.

I looked up at him with questioning eyes. “Clara and I have talked, and we’ve decided to place you in the church choir in addition to your volunteering at the confessional. You’re only there on the weekends, and you have too much free time on your hands. You know what they say about the Devil and idle hands, hmm?” He cocked an eyebrow at me, waiting for me to nod in agreement. I sighed and flicked my spoon to the side of my plate, slouching back into my chair.

“Okay. Would you also like me to stand with my arms out and be the cross on top of the church?” His cheeks grew red as soon as the last syllable escaped my lips. “Now, listen here, Lauren Michelle Jauregui,” he began, pointing a finger at me and taking a deep breath to start his engine and breathe fire. But thankfully my mother stopped him before he could get the chance. “Mike, what I think Lauren is trying to say, albeit rudely, is that we are asking her to be involved too much with the church. She already goes to Bible study, attends regular services, performs in the plays, volunteers at the confessional, and now we are asking her to join the choir, which is a big commitment.”

My father pondered this quietly as everyone quickly sat down, ready for him to turn on them next. If I was no longer up for game, then it’d be them. I felt bad for them, but they’d often turn their backs on me during a showdown with dad. So better them than me. “Hmmm. Okay, fine. You don’t have to join the choir. I understand, they meet a lot for practice and you’re a teenager. But, you will have to help Lucy with writing music. I see you with that mysterious journal of yours all the time. I’ve been disapproving of her songs. Too risqué. We need more Christian music. I know you can help out with that. How does that sound?” I quickly lapped up the bait so we could just get on with the day, though I wanted to be snarky. He knew what he was doing, and I wanted to call him on it. “Thank you. I’ll help Lucy with songwriting, but I’m not performing.

No one has ever heard me sing live and I intend to keep it that way.” He seemed satisfied for now and I knew he’d later bitch about me to mom while they got ready for bed tonight. Not like I cared, though. Breakfast started to cook while I planned my day mentally. First, church. Second, get Lucy’s number. Thankfully I had an excuse now. Maybe this was a good thing. This meant time with Lucy. I knew dad trusted her, so he’d probably let me be alone with her.

Then we could talk. About whatever we wanted. Deep things, things besides Christian music and anything that had to do with religion. And even better, it was his idea, so he’ll be excited if I show any interest in pursuing it. Pursuing her. When everyone was done with breakfast and left me to do the dishes as usual, we were late for church. That never happened, and it sent dad into a rage. He lashed out on everyone the whole way to church. He even got onto mom. Poor woman. She chose to stay married to him, though. I knew ‘we’ didn’t believe in divorce, but I mean, c’mon, it’s the 21st century. I didn’t get to do the dishes. Great. That meant everything would be stuck to the plates and I’d have to scrub hard to get it off when we got back home.

As we entered church, my eyes met Lucy’s as she continued conducting the music while turning around at the sound of the doors opening. I flashed a small smile at her so my dad wouldn’t notice and sat down with everyone. She smiled back and later in the service I caught her eye fucking me, looking me up and down and biting her lip. It worked. She liked my outfit. When I caught her gaze her cheeks turned red and I cocked an eyebrow, smirking at her and winking. She turned as white as a ghost and swiftly went back to standing by the choir dutifully until it was time for the ending song of the service, which was always ‘Blessed Be the Name.’

I liked this song, especially because the ending song was when she’d take a break from conducting and be the lead on the song herself. I enjoyed it, bathing myself in her vocals. I couldn’t believe someone’s voice could be so strong and soulful, yet so gentle and tender. Yet here it was, floating through both my ears. She made me appreciate Christian music, which was otherwise annoying since I heard it 24/7 practically. After our eye session, I knew I definitely needed her number.

As the service came to an end and everyone nosily got up to leave, hymnals and Bibles scattered across all pews, my family got up to leave. My phone buzzed in my pocket, and checking the time, I realized he was smack dab on the minute. My dad texted me every church service at the end at the same time, telling me the time I needed to come home and the chores that needed to be done at the church. Maybe Lucy could stick around and help me out.

It was only a short walk to from church to home and I didn’t mind cleaning the church since it was small and there wasn’t much that needed to be done on a weekend basis. I bent over to start picking up the scattered hymnals and Bibles when I heard someone clear their throat. I quickly straightened up and turned around. Lucy stood in front of me, smiling. “Hey, Lauren. Want me to help you pick all this up? My brother got hurt at soccer practice so my parents are going to be late picking me up, so I’m stuck here. With you,” she added, bouncing on her toes and giggling slightly. I smiled so big my cheeks hurt and a warm feeling spread throughout me.

“Well, I could use the help, honestly. I’m picking up all these books, and you can use some of the disinfectant spray and the paper towels in the cabinet to wipe down the pews.” I smiled wide at her again and ran my fingers through the pages and spine of the book. “Okay!” she replied and turned around, her dress swishing with her body as she moved to the cabinet. I was lost in staring when she turned around and coughed. I swiftly bent back down and cursed at myself for letting her catch me staring at her. “Like what you see, huh?” My throat dropped to my stomach. “Maybe…” I said. She laughed and walked toward me slowly, her heels clapping against the floor with every step. “I always knew there was something different about you, Jauregui.”

“Um… what do you mean?” I asked. I knew exactly what she meant. She knew that I knew what she meant. “Oh come on, don’t play dumb with me, Lauren. You’re gay. Duh. I won’t tell though, don’t worry. I wouldn’t want you at one of those concentration camps that Mike runs. You and I both know those are bullshit and they’re Hell on Earth.” This conversation was making me nervous and I was still frozen in place as she stood in front of me. I moved again to pick up the rest of the books and she began cleaning the pews. This conversation was what I had dreamed of all along but now that it was happening it felt like I was standing between right and wrong, gay and straight, and what I replied would define my fate.

This was scary. My whole life I had outwardly been one thing while internally being another. But I knew what I needed to do, I wasn’t daddy’s pet. I’d be moving out soon, and I liked Lucy. I couldn’t walk away from pursuing something with her when the possibility was right in front of me. “Are you gay too?” I asked her. She nodded. “Well, I’m glad I’ve found refuge in someone. This town is all the same,” I replied. “Me too.” She smiled at me and brushed my arm with her hand, running her fingertips up and down. The hair on my arms instantly stood straight up and goosebumps ran through me, a cold shiver escaping my body. She noticed my reaction and laughed. “I have that much of an effect on you, huh?” I blushed hard and looked down at the bricked floor, fondling one of my shoes with my foot nervously.

“Well I wonder what would happen if I did this…” she began, trailing off. Her hand came up slowly and cupped the side of my face, pushing my hair behind my ear and leaning in. It was happening. I hesitantly leaned in, and our lips met instantly. It could hear angels singing and fireworks shooting off. I gently bit her top lip and she deepened the kiss, her head tilting to the side, one hand running through my thin hair and the other trailing up and down my back. I melted right on the spot and stepped backward onto a hymnal just as her tongue licked the back of my teeth, falling down onto the hard floor right on my butt. Small tears escaped my eyes as she laughed, her hands on her stomach, bent over. I realized the humor in the situation and though my butt really hurt, I began to laugh as well.

She joined me on the floor and we sat there and talked until it was time for her to leave. I lost track of time and realized I had 20 minutes to finish cleaning before it was time for me to be home, and I had to walk. I ran around the church and got everything done, flying out of the double doors and locking them behind me. I checked my phone and I still had 10 minutes to get home, so I caught my breath and began walking. When I unlocked my phone, my contacts were open, and Lucy had put her number in. I smiled at the heart emoji she had placed next to her name and sent her the picture we took together in the church: Lucy kissing me on the cheek and me staring into the camera with a look of nothing less than pure sultry. I went to make it my wallpaper but realized I couldn’t in case someone from church or home saw it.

That could be bad news for both Lucy and I. When I got home I got to scrubbing the dishes from breakfast that were, just as I expected, hard to clean because of the food left on them. I hated living here, no one pulled their own weight. Maybe I could tolerate that if it wasn’t such a judgmental environment. My 18th was in a month. I’d just have to wait until then, but I needed to start talking to my parents about my plans to leave the minute I officially am 18. “Mom?” I called to her in the kitchen as she and dad were watching football. “Yes?” she replied. “Will you and dad come and sit down in here so we can talk about my birthday?” I heard my dad sigh and her whisper to him to go sit down. He followed her to the dining table and they sat in front of me, waiting for me to open the gates to Hell. Literally.

I wiped my hands on the towel, fixed a calm expression onto my face and turned around. “So, I just wanted to tell you guys that I plan to move out next month as planned. I haven’t found an apartment yet but I know where to look, and I have some brochures. How does that sound?” I looked at them at bit my lip. My mom eyed my dad worriedly. We both knew it’d be a hit or miss with him. He carefully thought over what I said, probably deciding whether to overreact. Finally, he plastered a fake smile across his lips. “I think it’s a great idea. I’m really proud that you’re showing initiative with being independent, something I’ve yet to see from Chris, who you know is 19.” I smiled wide and opened my mouth to thank him for his ‘blessing’, but he held up a finger.

“But, I need to make sure you’re ready for this. Moving out and living on your own is a huge commitment to yourself and all the responsibilities that come with owning a place can be overwhelming. I have no doubt that you’ll do fine, but what are the details?”

I knew what he was asking. “Yes, the complexes are all in good neighborhoods, close to the church, near a grocery store and hospital, close to home.” He grinned. I knew him all too well. “What about rent? We will split it with you, but you know with assistance from us comes with what?”

“Rules.” I replied. He nodded and went over the agreements I would have to adhere to if he paid for some of the rent: a curfew, no drinking, no drugs, no sex, and I’d still be expected at church and the center. Those last two expectations stood even if I paid rent myself in full. I didn’t want to agree to any of those things. I stood quietly in front of the table, deciding on whether I wanted to give my parents the key and lock myself away in exchange for help with rent, or if I wanted to almost put myself in debt to pay the bills so that I could do what I wanted. Neither option seemed feasible… maybe I could accept the help but just not follow the rules and hope they didn’t find out? That seemed risky, but what other choice did I have?

“Maybe Lauren needs time to think over her options…” my mom said. “No, it’s okay mom, I know what I want. I need help with rent, I know the rules.” My dad smiled at me as they settled the plans and walked away, going back to the football game. This made me feel uneasy but I wanted to move out so bad, I couldn’t take being under this close watch anymore. I texted Lucy the good news and she replied back only a few seconds later: “Need a roommate?”

MY TUMBLR: geckovillage

Please send questions, praise, comments, constructive words, etc. I am also taking requests for one shots, as I need a break from this fic.

#UPDATE #series #straight #trigger warning #submission #The Confessional Booth

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