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taexual · 3 years

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i’d love you to stay but that’s simply insane // JJK (22)

jungkook is an uncontrollable lead vocalist of the campus band, and you’re a goal-oriented top student that’s known his rich and complicated family since childhood. you don’t want anything to do with each other, until each other is exactly what you want to do.

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

genre: college au

warnings: there is a timejump!!

words: 5.2k

chapter twenty-two (final)

You had just left your house, already running late, when your phone lit up with an incoming call from Inna. Smiling with a good-natured roll of your eyes, you answered the phone. You already knew what she was going to say.

“Are you there yet?” you spoke into the phone, pressing it against your head with your shoulder while you put gloves on. It was chilly today.

“I’m by the entrance to the restaurant,” Inna replied, her voice manic. “I’m still in my car. I can’t leave. You might have to come and drag me in there by my hair.”

“Breathe,” you said, picking up your phone with a gloved hand before you looked around the empty street so you could safely cross it. “You can do this. It’s just dinner.”

“It’s dinner with his parents,” she shot back, still just as panicked. “I know you’ve known Jungkook’s parents as long as you’ve known your own, but it’s different for me. These people don’t know me. What if they hate me?”

You heard a beep on the line that indicated a new text message and pulled your phone back to check. It was Jungkook, sending you an exceeding amount of question marks and exclamation points; he had clearly noticed your absence.

“Well,” you started to say to Inna while you quickly typed back, OMW, and sent it to Jungkook, “they will definitely hate you if you ditch the dinner.”

Inna whined at this. “I called you for help.”

“How can I help you,” you couldn’t help teasing, “if your situation is different?”

Recognizing her own condescending tone in your words, she sighed heavily but made no attempt to correct herself as she pleaded, “please.”

“Alright, listen, it’ll be fine,” you said and almost stopped walking, too focused on the conversation. It was too cold to stand around on this late autumn evening, however, so you kept going as you spoke, “it’s the first time you’re meeting them, so you will most likely only talk about superficial things, like your education, your job, how you two met, how—”

“Most likely?” Inna repeated, distressed. “And what if they tell me, straight to my face, that they can’t stand the sight of me?

You couldn’t help but smile as Inna’s worries echoed your own when you and Jungkook were just starting to talk again. She’d found ways to convince you to be bold and give him a chance, so you owed it to her to be as encouraging as you could – even if it meant abandoning all plans and going over there to literally drag her into the restaurant by her hair as she’d said.

“They will not,” you told her firmly.

“But how do you know?” Inna demanded right back.

“Because you’re impossible to hate.”

“But what if they do?”

“Then, they won’t say anything,” you replied patiently, “because that’s a very rude thing to say to someone you’re meeting for the first time.”

Inna still found a loophole. “What if they’re extremely honest?”

“It doesn’t matter,” you said. “It’s still rude.”

“But what if—”

“Inna—just listen,” you cut her off as you stopped by another crosswalk, waiting for the light to change, “the only honest conversation I’ve had with Jungkook’s mother,” you spoke, “was two years ago, after she came to see me on campus. Remember that? Before then, we were on friendly terms but we never talked about our feelings, or anything deep at all. She could have despised me deep down in her heart, I wouldn’t have known.”

Inna considered this for a second – while you crossed the street – and then you heard her sigh in defeat.

“Right,” she said, hesitating. She must have been running out of excuses. “Well, that—I’m not sure if that makes it better, actually.”

“Just go in there. Okay?” you said, your voice soft. You had experienced the fright that comes with being in a relationship firsthand, so you tried to find a balance between tough love and caring support as you told her, “open the door of your car, step outside, lock the damn car – so we wouldn’t have history repeat itself – and then walk into the restaurant. You can do that, can’t you?”

You couldn’t see, her but you could feel her roll her eyes when you brought up the “Someone Broke Into My Car, Please Help, There’s No Way I Could Have Left It Unlocked” incident that she refused to talk about again after the police officers laughed her out of the station.

“Sure,” Inna said, “I can do that. If I walk in and then immediately turn back around.”

“No,” you said. “You walk in, you go meet your boyfriend and his parents, and then you send me an invitation to your wedding as soon as the dinner ends.”

She laughed at this in what was supposed to be a sarcastic way, but, instead, she just sounded hopeful.

“You’re very funny,” she said.

“And you’re very late,” you tossed back as you checked your own watch and then sped up. “Go.”

“Okay,” she said with a deep exhale. You heard the door of her car open. “I’m going. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” you replied, pleased to hear that she was really moving. “And if I find out you didn’t actually go in there, we will have a serious conversation the next time I see you. It might get physical.”

“I shall therefore avoid you,” she replied with grandiose dedication and then added playfully, “which shouldn’t be hard, considering that you’ve switched me for Jungkook.”

Gasping dramatically to emphasize your offense at this accusation, you defended, “hey, you were the one who moved out as soon as we graduated. I was going to suggest we continued to live together off-campus.”

“Your boyfriend would have hired a squad of assassins to kill me if I’d agreed,” Inna said, her voice light. Her car beeped twice in the background of the call, proving that she really locked it this time. “Moving in with you has been his dream come true.”

“Well, I’m running late to his show,” you said, already breathless as you were near-sprinting towards the venue that was still at least two minutes away, “so we’ll see if he still wants to live with me after tonight.”

“Oh! Sorry, you should have told me you were busy.”

“It’s fine,” you replied. “I’m never busy to scold you like you’ve scolded me every day for the four years that we lived together.”

Inna laughed. “It wasn’t every day.”

“It was,” you countered, feeling a smile spread on your face at the memory. “I sort of miss that sometimes.”

“Me too,” she admitted. “Lunch tomorrow?”

“Oh, you’re making an appointment to get your ass kicked?”

“There’ll be no need for that,” she promised. “I’ve already left my car.”

“Okay, that’s good,” you said. “I’ll see you tomorrow at one, then. Be brave, soldier.”

You chuckled at your own joke but Inna only hummed in appreciation.

“Thanks,” she said again. “Have fun tonight.”

“You, too,” you said, catching your breath as you slowed down after spotting the crowd of people, queuing by the entrance to the venue – the concert, clearly, hadn’t started yet. “Text me when you’re home.”

“I will if I’m not dead,” Inna replied.

Ignoring that, you reminded her one more time, “love you!”

“Love you, too,” she replied before hanging up just as she opened the door to the restaurant – and just as you reached the back entrance of the venue.

Namjoon was already waiting for you there. He greeted you with a quick hug and, even though he had a smile on his face, he still couldn’t help but chastise you.

“You’re late,” he said as the two of you entered the building, “he’s pretending to be fine with it but, really, he hasn’t let go of his phone for the past fifteen minutes.”

“It’s my bad,” you replied, “I should have left the house early but I had to make some last minute changes on my project. Are his parents here?”

“They’re here,” Namjoon replied and then back-tracked, “is everything okay with your project?”

“Yeah, it’s all done, I’ll present it tomorrow,” you replied. “Is the band ready?”

The two of you were on the move to see Parental Advisory, so you had no time to stop and properly discuss everything you wanted to ask each other, but that wasn’t new to either of you. Ever since Namjoon joined the team as Assistant Manager – per Jungkook’s request, much to everyone’s disbelief – you two had learned to talk about several different topics at the same time without getting confused.

“They’re ready,” Namjoon nodded, grabbing your arm when you took a turn towards the stairs leading up to the private viewing room upstairs, instead of walking down the hall towards the changing rooms, “they’re still backstage. He’s expecting you.”

“Oh, of course,” you nodded, allowing him to guide you down the hall; you could already hear the excited shrieks of the band members as they warmed up for the performance. “Are you sure I won’t interrupt—?”

“Namjoon!” a voice screeched, forcing you both to flinch in surprise. “Jesus, you’re still here?”

Both of you turned to see the frustrated publicist half-jogging to catch up with you. She gave you a nod of acknowledgement and turned back to Namjoon with a look that demanded an explanation.

“Yeah, Jungkook asked me to wait for—” he started to say but the publicist turned around, indicating for him to follow after.

“Don’t ever do anything Jungkook asks you to do, I thought you knew that,” she said, turning to look at him over her shoulder. “Come on, let’s move! The manager is not doing his job because one of the sound guys keeps flirting with him, and he’s distracted. I need you to be his right hand.”

Giving you an apologetic smile, Namjoon caught up with her and you could still hear him mumble, “that’s what I am anyway.”

“Alright, then I need you to be his right and left hand now,” she said curtly and then stopped, giving you one more look. “You’ll find the changing room okay, love? He’s been waiting for you.”

“Yeah, I’m going there now, thanks,” you replied, turning around towards the animalistic growls that would have sounded threatening if you hadn’t heard them so many times before.

You felt yourself smile as you knocked on the door gently and then turned the handle to enter. You’ve seen Parental Advisory in so many changing rooms over the past two years, there was virtually nothing they could do to surprise you, – which was why you merely sighed in content when you saw the boys jumping around the room and banging on their chests like gorillas infected with rabies.

Jungkook was the first one who turned around when he heard the door open and, not having expected you to finally be here – just like every previous time you were late to see him, he had assumed you were dead in a ditch – he did a double take before he finally leaped across the room towards you.

“Where were you?” he asked in a frenzy as he wrapped his arms around you as if the last time he’d seen you was months ago and not just this morning over breakfast, “I thought I asked Namjoon to walk you here.”

“Sorry, I’m here,” you replied, your chest cavity always turning into mush whenever he hugged you like that. “Namjoon did walk me, but your publicist—hey, you’re dressed already, aren’t you supposed to go up on stage?”

“We are. Soon,” he said and then, not intending to make you sound guilty, he added, “I was just waiting for you.”

Your eyes widening, you scolded, “Go! You’d perform just as well without me.”

Not letting you push him away from you, he kissed you instead – just quickly enough so the other members of the group wouldn’t notice, but long enough so you’d get to taste the familiar mint and strawberry on his lips.

“I know,” he said when he pulled away.

The confident grin on his lips surprised you even though it shouldn’t have.

“Oh, you do, then?” you asked.

“I do,” he replied, still smirking. “But I still need you with me all the time.”

“Hmm, right,” you spoke. “And having me around that often is not exhausting at all?”

“I wouldn’t know,” he said and, this time, he had every intention to make you feel guilty, “you keep leaving me by myself.”

Laughing because he was exaggerating and he knew it, you nodded your head in the direction of the other boys in the room – they were finished with their warm-up and were now busy making stupid expressions in the vanity mirror.

“You have your whole group with you,” you told Jungkook.

“They don’t count,” he replied dismissively.

Walking by at the right moment, Yoongi patted Jungkook’s shoulder, surprising him, “thanks a lot, friend. We’re going in five.”

He walked away before Jungkook could reply, throwing the younger boy a look over his shoulder to confirm that he’s not actually angry, but they really do need to head out now.

“Go,” you said, forcing Jungkook to return his attention to you. “Break a leg. Actually, break them both.”

He laughed, kissing you once more and not pulling away this time – not until he heard Taehyung groan dramatically as he walked past you two.

Awarding his bandmate with a roll of his eyes, Jungkook smiled at you. “I’ll see you after?”

“Of course,” you nodded.

“Promise?” he asked because this had become a ritual between you two.

“Promise,” you answered just like you’d done before every other Parental Advisory show for the past two years.

For the first time in their careers, Parental Advisory performed at one of the biggest venues in town – it took them years to get here but they always knew they would.

And yet, as they reached the middle of their set-list and paused for a ment, they still couldn’t take it all in – it felt surreal how the dozens of people who came to hear them perform had gradually turned into hundreds, making them legends on campus. And then hundreds turned into thousands, and made them into a viral sensation that virtually no one could resist singing along to.

You couldn’t help but give in to the intoxicating atmosphere as well.

The Parental Advisory performances – and the after-parties that followed; even if, nowadays, they were hosted at night clubs with the biggest capacity available in a particular town – were still an unforgettable experience, even more so when lighting and special effects were added into the mix.

Dancing along to the songs you’d heard a million times now, you cherished every second of this night as if you were never going to see it again.

But you knew you would.

The band had two more performances scheduled at this venue. And they had forty more left on the tour across the country.

Granted, they would have probably had far less if it weren’t for Namjoon.

Ever since you graduated and Jungkook managed to find a way to see eye-to-eye with Namjoon, he became one of the main reasons why Parental Advisory started to advance so quickly, releasing new songs that took the musical charts by storm and performing shows that prompted international magazines to question how it was possible for the band to fly under their radar for so long.

Namjoon never imagined himself working for a group he’d never particularly liked before, but this was precisely what he’d studied for: he knew the steps to success and he knew the people who’d help them climb those steps, too. And, as it turned out, he loved being a part of this ride as well.

The sudden mainstream popularity had come quickly but the members were ready for it.

Even Jungkook who found himself in a new sort of relationship with his father – one where they weren’t talking to each other unless it was absolutely necessary. This arrangement pleased them both but Jungkook knew it couldn’t be permanent. His father didn’t simply decide to quit talking to him; he just didn’t know how else to express his disappointment that his son had chosen his band instead of the family company.

Miraculously, Jungkook had found a way to make sure his father didn’t kick him out of the house he grew up in – the house he had just returned to – and that was when he announced that you and him were moving in together one Sunday night dinner.

His mother was overjoyed. His father – startled by the way she leaped from her seat in uncontrollable excitement – was forced to quit simmering in silent disappointment, and express his support as well. Even though it wasn’t what he was hoping for, Jungkook’s father got exactly what he wanted – his son had grown up.

As it turned out, when you agreed to help Jungkook get himself together, you weren’t doing it so he could take over the family company, but rather, so he would be able to show his father what he really wanted to achieve in life.

And he’d done that.

He’d done that so well, in fact, that both of his parents were now clapping along to the rhythm as they sat behind you, by the bar of the VIP booth. They both waved at you when you turned to look.

When you looked back at the stalls, you saw what you’d seen many times before – the people sang and danced along, their eyes burning with fires so big, it was like they were asleep before they came here, and this music was what made them finally wake up and realize that they were alive.

You would never grow tired of watching the venue come to life as soon as the band played the first few notes.

You would never grow tired of the way the members of Parental Advisory lost themselves in their audience, and the audience lost themselves in them.

And you would certainly never grow tired of that fact that every time, right before they started the encore, Jungkook would find you, wherever you were in the audience.

“I love you,” he would mouth soundlessly, and you’d hear him loud and clear, past the noisy ambiance of the venue, no matter how far away from him you were.

While the rest of the Parental Advisory members left to prepare for a long night of partying ahead, you and Jungkook left the venue on foot, purposefully choosing to take the long way home.

“Are you sure you didn’t want to go to the club?” you asked again as you walked through an empty park, holding hands and enjoying each other’s warmth on an otherwise cold night. “It’s the first performance out of three, the members will miss you.”

“They’ll be too drunk to notice I’m gone,” he replied, smirking as he added, “besides, tonight gives them an occasion to break out another bottle of absinthe and we both know how much you love that.”

Scrunching your nose, you reminded him, “I could have waited for you at home. Just because I can’t go to the party doesn’t mean you shouldn’t—”

“I need you with me at all times,” he replied, “remember?”

“I am with you at all times,” you said.

“Except when you’re off breaking records at work,” Jungkook teased.

You lowered your eyes and did not get to see the way his face beamed with pride. You’d become the youngest Team Manager the company’s ever had, and you’d done that on your own, choosing to find a workplace where you could try to build your career from the ground up, instead of getting an—unfair—advantage of working for Jungkook’s father.

Your promotion came several months ago now, but Jungkook was still proud.

“I’ve only broken one,” you replied humbly, “and it hardly counts. Soon enough, there will come someone who’ll become Team Manager at an even younger age than me.”

“Still,” Jungkook shrugged, gently rocking your intertwined hands back and forth as you walked down the deserted park. “I don’t get to see you as often as I’d like because you’re working all of the time. I’m not even sure if you eat at all when you’re away from home.”

“We always have dinner together,” you reminded him with a smile – because coming home to him has been the favorite part of your day – and then added as an afterthought, “hasn’t it been two years that we’ve been together?”

“You counted?” he asked, a teasing grin on his lips. “How sick of me are you?”

“A little,” you joked, and then had to run after him as Jungkook dramatically dropped your hand and broke into a run, putting more distance between you.

Catching up with him, you grabbed his arm with both of yours and forced him to slow down. “Hey, come on! You know I’m joking!”

Your voice was full of humor and so was his when he replied, “your jokes were always terrible.”

It was your turn to let go of him as you took a step back and demanded, “you take that back!”

Laughing, Jungkook walked towards you so he could envelope you in a hug, all while you watched him with mock-offence. He pulled away from the hug a second later to wipe the expression off your face by pressing his lips to yours.

“It has been two years,” he said then, keeping his arms comfortably wrapped around your waist, “and somehow I’m still not used to the fact that we can just… do whatever we want together. Stand here like this. Jump into that pile of old leaves if we feel like it.”

Laughing, you shook your head.

“Maybe let’s do the leaves some other time,” you said, leaning into him by resting your head against his shoulder. “Unless we’re much more used to each other in a few years and we don’t want to roll around in leaves anymore.”

“Hmm, I don’t think so,” he replied, closing his eyes for a moment when the smell of your hair reached his senses. He hadn’t gotten used to that, either. “I think this is something that I’ll always have a hard time believing to be real.”

You could feel the way your heart rate slowed down when you leaned against him. It suddenly seemed impossible that, just a few years ago, enjoying each other’s company in an empty park in the middle of the night, would have been merely a dream – something you woke up from when morning came.

“Maybe it’s because there are no people around,” you suggested, “and that’s why this feels surreal.”

“No, it’s like this all the time,” Jungkook disagreed, exhaling as he put one of his hands on the back of your head, holding you against him. “It makes sense, though, doesn’t it?”

Distracted by the feeling of him so close, you mumbled, “what does?”

“The disbelief,” he said. “I mean, two years ago, would you have thought we’d be here? Standing like this, under this leafless willow tree, probably looking sort of creepy to anyone who might walk by?”

Chuckling when he turned something that could have been romantic into a potential to get arrested, you shook your head against his shoulder. “No. I definitely didn’t. But I’m glad we are. Even if we look creepy.”

“Hmm,” caressing your hair, he hummed with a satisfied smile, “I’m glad, too.”

“Do you think we’ll still be here another two years later?” you asked. “Looking creepy to anyone who might walk by?”

It was Jungkook who couldn’t resist laughing this time as he replied, “I hope so.”

He wasn’t certain – he didn’t promise you that you would definitely still be here – and perhaps that made sense, too. He said he’d never lie to you and you couldn’t expect him to start now, not even if a promise of forever would have been the appropriate thing to give in a situation like this.

“I’d like that, though,” he added after a moment. “I’d like to think you’d have enough patience to deal with me for another two years.”

You were about to smile at the on-going joke about how you were “putting up” with him, but then stopped yourself because, truth be told, it wasn’t funny. Not in this context and, actually, not in any context at all.

“You’re not a nuisance to me,” you told him--as you have a dozen times before--but your voice was too quiet to make it sound as impactful as you’d hoped, so you added, louder, “I love you.”

“I know,” he replied and continued, in an almost defensive manner, “but, because we’d already been apart from each other before, it’s hard to just start believing that we have a happily ever after ahead of us. You know what I mean?”

You pulled your head away from his shoulder and looked at him. “That’s—”

“But,” he cut you off after catching the terror in your eyes, “at the same time, if we’d never separated before, it’s possible that we wouldn’t be here at all right now. So, maybe it was all meant to be.”

“Do you really believe that?” you asked, not concealing your skepticism and the fear that was still present in your chest after he’d revealed that he didn’t believe in your happy ending. “Do you think it was necessary for us to spend some time apart so we could find ourselves here?”

Jungkook shrugged. “I’d like to think that everything happens for a reason and that every action leads to something else. Sort of like a Butterfly Effect. So, maybe suffering for seven years was worth it because it prepared us for a lifetime of happiness ahead.”

He could see the way your face contorted painfully for just a second – you were always sensitive when it came to cliché lines – and it brought a smile to his face. He was happy, and even more so when he realized that, two years later, you had learned how to talk about your seven-year break without suffocating.

Two years later, it became one of the obstacles you had overcome. One of many, maybe, but if you’d survived that, there was little you couldn’t survive.

“I don’t think suffering of any kind should be worth it in the end. I think it’d be better if we didn’t suffer at all,” you argued but then settled, a moment later, “I do agree that unhappiness makes you appreciate happiness more, though.”

“See?” he grinned, choosing to consider this as a compromise. “Meant to be.”

“Well, since it sounds like the universe loves kicking us where it hurts the most,” you spoke, the smile on his face easing the anxiety that his previous uncertainty about your future had brought, “why don’t we go for those additional two years, too? Or more if we’re lucky. Even if we aren’t really meant to be. Especially if we aren’t. Just to spit the universe in the face.”

Laughing, Jungkook hugged you tighter until you were pressed against him and could no longer see his face.

“We are lucky,” he said, cherishing every moment with you because he never knew how many more of them he’d get, and that was okay, because he stood here, holding you tightly in his arms, and nothing else existed to him but this moment. He finished, “but only because we decide to be.”

“Yeah?” you played along, hugging him back with an equal amount of love and force. You’d unintentionally started a war of Who Could Squeeze The Other One Tighter. He was winning as you asked breathlessly, “so, there’s no such thing as destiny, then?”

“No, there is,” he replied, letting go of you when he realized that his grip on you might have really done some serious damage to your lungs. You were smiling when you pulled away from the hug, however. He added, “I’m the one who gets to decide what my destiny is, though.”

“And what’s that?” you asked.

“Yo—”

“If you say ‘you’,” you gave him a warning look, “I will smack you.”

He laughed, puffing his chest in preparation for a punch that he knew might come; you weren’t really kidding about these things.

“That’s mean,” he said then, and, as a ploy to extract pity – but also because it was the truth – he added, “I love you.”

Naturally, you replied, “I love you more.”

Naturally, he protested, “no, you don’t.”

It annoyed you that he always did this but, at the same time, it was such a familiar trait of this, that right here, right now, you couldn’t help but feel the warmth in your chest spread to your face as you smiled, despite yourself.

“I do,” you argued, still grinning.

“You don’t,” Jungkook insisted.

“I do.”

“You d—”

Knowing what was coming – and how long it’d be before you’d reach the end of this argument – you leaned in and pressed your lips to his, promptly shutting him up.

When you heard him inhale in surprise, his lips moving against yours to respond to the kiss, you pulled away.

Breathless, even though his lungs were full of oxygen, Jungkook nodded, impressed.

“Nice,” he commented.

“Yeah?” you snickered. “Maybe I’ll use that to win all arguments against you.”

“Cool,” he agreed. “Maybe I’ll use that to start more arguments with you.”

Thrilled to feel that excited jump of your heart each time you naturally slipped back into flirting – even two years after you started to date – you bit back, “more than you do now? Impossible.”

Raising his eyebrows, he returned to his College Frat Boy roots as he inquired, “is that a challenge?”

Laughing, you pulled away from him far enough so he couldn’t reach you, only to end up right by his side again when he took both of your hands into his, not letting you stray too far from him.

“Is everything a challenge with you?” you countered, the feeling of his warm hands against your cold ones comforting.

“It is,” he said, serious. “And I’m winning.”

“How so?” you asked.

“I have you.”

You looked ready to punch him again so Jungkook took both of your wrists into one of his hands and covered his face with his free hand, blocking his view of your defeated expression as you groaned and rolled your eyes.

“I wasn’t a challenge,” you replied, choosing to avoid violence when you knew he was strong – and dedicated – enough to lift you up and throw you over his shoulder if he felt like it.

“You were,” he disagreed, dropping his hand to his side. “Admit it, you thought you’d be insane to let me back into your life.”

“I still think so sometimes.”

You were joking and he couldn’t lose the cheerful tone of his voice, either, as he asked, “do you regret it?”

“Abandoning my sanity to be with you?” you clarified.

Snorting, Jungkook nodded.

“No,” you answered without a second thought. “Even though I probably should.”

Laughing – because he didn’t think he was ever happier than he was in that moment; although, to be fair, he felt so about every moment with you – Jungkook hugged you tighter, spinning you around in a half-circle so unexpectedly, you squealed at the feeling of your feet leaving the ground for a full second.

“I love you,” he said once he put you down and pressed his forehead against yours. “My destiny isn’t just a few more years with you. It’s a few more decades. And now that I’ve said it out loud, it has to come true.”

Closing your eyes, you tried to catch your breath and felt yourself smile even though your stomach contracted unpleasantly when Jungkook purposefully chose to voice his thoughts in the cheesiest way he could manage.

“I love you more,” you told him and then, realizing your recklessness, rushed to add, “and don’t you dare—”

“No, you don’t.”

He was provoking you and you knew it but, honest to all that was holy, you didn’t mind it one bit.

Pressing a kiss to his lips to distract him and change the topic, you felt Jungkook hold onto you tighter as he smiled into the kiss, thus confirming that this was precisely what he was hoping would happen.

“I’ll take it I win, then,” he said after you pulled away to take a breath and felt the cold breeze on your face.

“Let’s talk about that home,” you replied. “I’m cold.”

“Yeah?” he let go of you so he could zip your jacket up to the very top and then unfold your collar so it would cover up more of your neck. Then, once he was content with the amount of warmth your jacket could provide, he took your hand again. “Let’s go home.”

fin.

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ffhseries · 3 years

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Tales of Far From Home: Yggsmas in Killarney

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The park had been decorated for weeks now. Strings of lights wrapped around trees while shiny baubles hung on their branches. Festive wreaths and ribbons adorned the park benches and rubbish bins. Elaborate, massive strands of evergreen garland connected lampposts to each other. Green and gold, red and silver, the colors of the holiday season were everywhere.

And I absolutely hated it.

If you had asked me last year, hell just a few months ago, I would have felt differently. It used to be one of my favorite times but here and now…it felt like some gross farce. Like the universe was twisting the knife.

Because this wasn’t Christmas, and this wasn’t my home.

Don’t ask me how it happened. Don’t ask me why I’m here instead of Earth. Just know that this isn’t it. One moment I was storming out of my house after a fight with Ma. Thunder crashed just as I turned to answer her. The next moment, I was so dizzy I nearly passed out on the street. It took a few minutes for my head to clear and to get my bearings. Finding out the world had grown all around me nearly took my breath away.

Coming face to face with a dragon didn’t help matters.

It was the worst day of my life. Everything, and everyone, around me was absolutely gigantic. Oversized pigeons and sparrows were mingling with dragons -honest to God DRAGONS- while a gigantic woman fed them popcorn from her seat. The look she gave when she saw me among the flock would be seared into my memory forever. Like she had just seen some mangy rat pop out of the sewer and flip her off. It was the first disgusted look I’d earn in this world. It wouldn’t be the last. I had barely made it to the underside of a massive park bench before she threw more popcorn for the birds and creatures.

I’d been living in the park and underneath that very bench ever since.

The original plan was to couch surf on a mate’s couch until my temper cooled off. I had the row of a lifetime with Ma and I couldn’t be under the same roof with her. I had clothes packed for the week and my guitar. Busk on the corners for pocket change if I really needed it, maybe play a gig or two if the opportunity came up. I would’ve been home soon enough. Despite my anger at that moment, I loved Ma and needed to make it up to her somehow. After we had a long talk.

That was months ago. I miss her more and more each day.

All the festive decorations didn’t help.

Christmas was a time for cheesy songs, gorging on piles of food, and keeping good company. Ma would blast her favorite Christmas carol as she woke me up to open our presents. I took to making us breakfast in recent years. The day was spent happy and full and surrounded by friends and loved ones.

This “Yggsmas” was more like a prolonged parody of everything I missed.

One of the few good things about this world was staring into my eyes at that moment.

About a week after I arrived, I was given another surprise of my life. I had already become accustomed to the comings and goings of the Giantfolk, as much as I hated to admit it. At least enough to manage a nap after cramming fistfuls of a giant crisp. Not the healthiest of meals, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. It was a cool day and I was content to snuggle inside my jacket and rest for a bit.

“Um, hullo there. Gotta minute to talk, do ye?” a voice asked just as I got comfortable.

I could’ve sworn I was already dreaming. There were many things I expected when I turned my head to answer. More Giantfolk to play for, maybe. A dragon or pigeon looking to share the shade, sure.

But another human being? After days on my own in a giant world?

I almost kissed him right then and there.

He would have to settle for the tightest, longest hug I could’ve mustered instead.

“Heh. Guess ye havne seen another human in a while, huh?” he asked after a moment. He was just as quick to return the embrace, and I almost cried. I thought I was the only human here. I thought I was alone. I thought I’d never see anyone my size again. Never hear a familiar accent that didn’t come from someone who towered over me. “I get it, mate. It’s all right. I’m here. There are other humans here too.”

“Waseem. I’m Waseem McCarthy.” I offered eventually. “Most everyone just calls…called…me Waz.”

“Tylar Fitzgerald. Everyone just calls me Tylar.” he replied.

“Erm, and I’m Georgina Gaogao. Georgie, rather.” a different voice added after a polite cough. I shouldn’t have been surprised by the presence of a Giant nearby but I was still caught off-guard. I let go of Tylar when she offered an awkward wave. “H-hullo.”

I returned the wave and took a step back. There was something obviously up with these two and I wanted to make sure I wasn’t in swiping distance just in case. Tylar earned a side-eye from me as well.

“We just wanna talk to ye, really.” Tylar said, putting his hands up defensively. He took his own step back as well. “We heard ye were here an’ thought ye might need some questions answered, is all.”

“‘We’?” I asked.

“Hullo again!” the Giant named Georgie said, waving once more. Her eyes crinkled with the broad smile she offered. She made sure to slow her movements and kept her hands in plain sight. Her fingers were entwined before she laid them on her lap.

“We can leave if ye want. I just doona…” Tylar began, slowly taking something out of his back pocket. I half expected a knife. The best defense I had was to clonk him with my guitar before I dashed off. Wouldn’t know how far I’d get if Georgie gave chase. It came as almost a relief to see a pamphlet in his hand instead. “I doona wanna leave ye out here without knowin’ what’s what, mate.”

I carefully took the pamphlet and read the front.

WELCOME TO TERGAIA:

WHAT TO EXPECT AS A HUMAN

AND WHAT WE’RE DOING TO CHANGE THINGS

PRESENTED AND DISTRIBUTED BY SAIH

(THE SOCIETY FOR THE ACCEPTANCE AND INTEGRATION OF HUMANS)

“Ter…gaia? What’s ‘Tergaia’?” I asked.

“That’s where we are. This world is Tergaia.” Tylar answered. “Ye may wanna sit down fer this one, mate. It’s a lot to take in.”

He wasn’t wrong.

The pamphlet was brief but still managed to say almost too much. Humans from Earth “Crossed Over” to Tergaia by magical means. Magic. There was magic here. The Giantfolk weren’t just too damn big, they could cast spells too. Wasn’t that just grand? Humans had been popping up here, seemingly randomly, for over 500 years. We were considered similar, if not exactly like, their “dæmons”, ancient enemies to their pantheon. It explained why so many of the Giantfolk…the Tergaians…reacted like I was some roach crossing their path. Others considered us cute and even kept humans as pets. A shiver went down my spine at all of the cooing folks I’d encountered in the days before. Their gentle praises no longer felt awkward yet encouraging but nauseating now.

But worst of all was the news about a way back home.

There wasn’t one.

It took several tries of reading the same paragraph before it sunk in. Something about the veil between worlds protecting itself from humans breaking its magic. Whatever the exact reason, it meant one thing: the door was locked behind us with no key to be found.

I didn’t bother to read the rest of it. What good would it have done? I’d never see my home again.

I’d never see Ma again.

“I know it’s…upsettin’.”

“Why are you even here, bruv?” I asked, trying to hand him back the pamphlet. It looked worn and hand-printed. Almost like it was the only one he had. They had. Whichever.

“Because ye shoodne be out here by yerself an’ confused or scared or anythin’.” Tylar said, pushing the paper back to me. “Ye should know what life is like right now but more important what it CAN be like. We wanna help where-!”

“So, what, are you HER pet or something? Is she forcing you to do this?”

It would be the first time I’d see his frustration rise to the surface. Tight lips, a furrowed brow, and angry huff through his nose.

“No. I volunteered fer this. I wanted to help others like ye. Like us.” he stated. “Ye need time to process this. I get that. We can stay here if ye have questions or just…need someone to yell at.”

I stared at him, waiting for the perfect retort to come to mind. For something, anything, to be said.

Tylar made his way back to the Giant, to Georgie, before a word could escape my lips.

“Look, we can come back tomorrow, or inna few days, to check up on ye. Anything ye wanna ask, or scream, or whatever. In the meantime, will ye at least accept this from us?”

I watched as Georgie slowly extracted something from her pocket and held it out for Tylar to take. It was equal parts disturbing and fascinating to see Tylar effortlessly walk up to her hand and retrieve the item. It would turn out to be a worn but cared for backpack.

“It’s not much-!”

“For right now!” Georgie added quickly. “We’re still gathering donations.”

“But it should help.” Tylar continued. “It’s a pack, and set-up fer a lean-to, and a spare canteen fer water. There’s a box in there ye should get to when ye have the chance.”

Before I could say anything else, he was sitting in a Giant hand, waiting to be picked up. My stomach turned at the sight. I couldn’t imagine doing anything of the sort just then. Not after what I’d read.

I thought for sure I’d never see them again. See him again.

But they returned. The next day, and at least once a week afterwards.

It eventually became a routine to see Tylar at least once a day, if not have him spend the night. At first, it was just us discussing the world we were living in, and SAIH’s attempts at helping change the perspective. Over time it was more about the two of us than about the rest of the world.

Selfish, I know.

“I doona s’pose ye gave it any thought?” Tylar asked softly and cautiously. I loved the sound of his not-quite-right accent and the familiar lilt in his voice. It was more comforting than he knew.

“You need to narrow that down a bit, luv.” I replied, entwining my fingers with his. “There are a lot of things on my mind right now.”

“…Findin’ someplace safer to hunker down fer the winter.”

“Tylar.”

“I know, I know. Ye like yer set-up, ye like bein’ on yer own. But there’s s’posed to be a bad storm in the next few days. Ye know how much I worry about ye.”

“I love that you worry about me. But really, I’ll be fine. I’ve lasted this long out here, haven’t I?”

A giggle was held back as Tylar let out his frustrated huff. It was cute.

“Ye’ve been lucky. REAL lucky.” he admitted after a moment.

It was the understatement of the century.

My first day of being here made me realize just how tough finding food was going to be. The wildlife wasn’t just immense, but they had their own routines. They knew where to find their meals: waiting for those who threw popcorn and bread, scrounging in the bins during the quiet times, or simply hunting other animals in the park. I thought for sure the dragons or other carnivores would try to make a snack out of me. They seemed more interested in other prey or scraps than me, thankfully.

If it hadn’t been for my idle guitar playing and one of the Giantfolk liking my song, I wouldn’t have earned my first sausage roll. From then on, I played for food. Scraps to the Giantfolk were a few meals to me. Sharing what leftovers went bad or I simply couldn’t eat with the other animals seemed to help. They almost never bothered me otherwise.

Even the park employees didn’t bother me after a time. Most of them, again, thought I was something cute to gush over or be amazed at. The park director himself didn’t mind my being there. Not that he went out of his way to show it, but still. Only one of the park attendants seemed especially irked by my presence, and even he was made to stop. For the most part.

Especially after what would turn out to be the chance encounter of a lifetime.

The lady had popped out of the blue one day. I was still under my bench playing when she stumbled over. A bright jumper, a blue bag, messy hair. Didn’t seem out of the ordinary to me. Not that anything was, really, any more.

“Urrrrgh…I am REALLY starting to hate magic…” she grumbled as she laid herself on the ground in front of me. It took her a moment before she realized I was sitting there. “Oh. Hey man. Sorry about that. I uh…can explain. Kinda.”

“Guessing by your accent you’re not from around here, bruv?” I chuckled.

“Oh God no. Bridget Bradley, from New Jersey. USA. Earth.”

“Waseem McCarthy, Killarney, Ireland.”

It would end up being a short chat with me giving her directions towards “civilization” before I went back to my routine. A few hours later, one of the Giantfolk followed suit: popped in, stumbled, laid to rest on my bench. Gave me a shock when he knew an Earth song and repaired my guitar’s strings. Was glad for the food and the spare canteen he offered. Didn’t think much of it, really.

Until a few days later.

“HOW DO YE KNOW THE KING?!” Tylar and Georgie yelled from out of the blue. I nearly jumped 10 feet in the air from their sudden appearance. Georgie always made it a point to announce her presence before kneeling down to “my” level. Tylar was already hopping off her hand when my heart started beating again.

“…Who?” I asked as he ran over to me with a backpack. It was large, and brand new. Definitely a sight better than the one they gave me weeks before. “Nice. New donations, I take it?”

“Well, yes, SAIH received some as well but that one is specifically for you!” Georgie replied, pulling out a letter. She began to read before I could ask why. “‘Dear Miss Gaogao, I want to thank you again for taking the time to talk with me about the Society for the Acceptance and Integration of Humans the other day. You are a passionate and well-informed young woman and I hope to speak with you and your associates soon on the matter properly and more in-depth. My assistant, Miss Cassidy Gabon’ -that’s my cousin- ‘will work with you to schedule a meeting. In the meantime, please accept these donations for your organization as well as this check to help your efforts.’ -it was a TIDY sum, let’s just say- ‘I ask, if it is not too much trouble, to present the specially marked bag for someone I met in Killarney Park. His name is Waseem and he plays a guitar underneath one of the benches. He was a previous recipient of your generosity and mentioned your organization by name. I hope he is familiar enough to you that this will not be an unreasonable favor to ask. I had hoped to do it myself, but I fear royal duties must come first. Thank you once more and best of luck to you and yours, signed King Colm Matthew Alexander Brian Arcadi, FIRST KING OF FATHACH.’”

“I…what? I don’t know anybody named…” I began, claiming the letter attached to the new backpack. The envelope was addressed “To Waseem the Guitarist” in an unfamiliar script. The handwriting was quick but legible. My confusion cleared up the longer I read the note inside.

“Dear Waseem,

I hope this letter and bag of supplies finds you well. I wanted to thank you again for your assistance the other day in Killarney Park. Your song and your directions were a great help to me when we met. I hoped to return the favor once again. While the canteen and the sausage roll may have helped you at that moment, I felt that I needed to show my appreciation in a more sustainable way. Inside this bag you will find plenty of supplies to help you live just a bit more comfortably in this great big world of ours while I try my best to make it more hospitable for all of Fathach’s people, Tergaian and Human alike. There are notes on everything with an explanation for what they can do inside the bag. I would like to point out in particular: the enchanted tent, the barrier protection rope, a set of vaccines, a copy of the Faol Scouts Survival Guide, and most importantly, the Jumper Stone. If ever there is an emergency or you need a warm place to stay or you would like to drop by for a visit, you are more than welcome at Castle Arcadi. Simply squeeze the stone and it will Jump you directly here. I hope you will consider staying in touch using the ImmediaNote pad provided.

Thank you once more and best of luck,

King Colm Matthew Alexander Brian Arcadi

First King of Fathach”

There was a second note written at the end of the page from a different person’s hand.

“P.S. Consider all this stuff from me too, thanks again for everything! Signed, Bridget from NJ”

It took a few times rereading everything for it to sink in.

“…Holy Shit. I know the king.”

That one brief encounter left me with a much better set-up. The tent was warm, sturdy, and big enough to keep me and Tylar comfortable whenever he slept over. The barrier rope kept unwanted creatures at bay when set around the tent. It certainly helped when strangers or a surly park employee came by. There had been more inside the bag than I could’ve guessed, and it helped me feel more…well, not at home. And comfortable didn’t sound right either.

But it certainly didn’t hurt.

“I just doona like ye pushin’ yer luck, is all.” Tylar continued. “If somethin’ happened to ye out here, I…I’d never…”

“It won’t come to that, I promise.” I replied. “Besides, if I’m not here, who’ll make sure Robin gets fed?”

“Robin is a fox who can feed himself. Ye doona have to keep makin’ excuses fer stayin’ out here.”

“I’m not making excuses.”

“Arne ye? Why else woodne ye wanna be under a real roof fer a lil’ while?”

“Why won’t you tell me where you were born?”

It was a cheap shot. I knew it. He knew it. I hated saying it. He hated hearing it. But it was the only way I knew to change the subject. It wasn’t the first time I asked the question, but it was always something Tylar avoided answering. His accent, while familiar, always threw me off. I thought for certain he was Irish. But it also sounded too much like the “Fathish” accent the Giantfolk had. I don’t know why it was important to me.

I just knew I needed closure one way or the other.

“…Stop tryin’ to deflect, arsehole.” he countered instead.

“I’m just asking-!”

“Um, Tylar? Waz? Are you down there?” Georgie called out from outside the tent. “If you’re staying the night, I just need to know now. I don’t want to be stuck in the Yggsmas market crowds again.”

Tylar was up and getting his boots on in an instant.

“I’ll be right there, Georgie!” he yelled out as he buttoned his coat. Tylar tried to keep his voice steady as he continued talking. “Look, I like ye a lot, Waz. I do. An’ I doona wanna see ye out here alone again. But if yer gonna keep tryin’ to push me away, one of these days I may decide it’s not worth it to push back.”

“Tylar, wait, you don’t-!”

“I’ll see ye tomorrow, Waz. Maybe. Ye’ve got yer Jumpers if ye need them. Or at least head fer that temple up the road a few blocks. They’ve started letting humans in to hunker down too.”

He was out of the tent before I could stop him.

I did want to stop him.

Really I did.

But he didn’t understand.

I tried being around the Giantfolk. Truly I did. During my first weeks in the park, I’d wandered farther than usual. I ran into a pair of park attendants as they were leaving from their break room. One went back in to grab something “fer the lil’ fella tuh eat” while the other kept watch on me. He tried to make conversation. Condescendingly, and almost like I was some stray he was trying to keep calm rather than another person. I tried to say something. Even when he offered me the biggest chip butty with malt vinegar I’d ever seen in my life. I was tempted. But all kinds of thoughts came to mind as I stared at the plate of food. Was this a good faith offering? Was it a trap? Would he swat me to the ground before I stepped closer?

Robin saved me from making a decision.

The fox liked to follow me around on my walks. Knew I could be relied on for scraps if he needed them. He grabbed the sandwich and dashed off in the other direction. It diverted the Giants’ attention while I scarpered off into the dusk and shadows.

Even when I was invited to the Yggsmas market opening with Tylar, Georgie, and her cousin Cassidy, I tried. At the end of November, after their “Fall’s End Festival”, the public square was cleared and sectioned off. The market was set-up in the middle of the park, full to bursting with vendors of all sorts: seasonal food stalls, artisans, carolers, and more. The usual buskers moved there as well, hoping to earn some extra coin in the crowds. The smells and sights and sounds should have helped put me to ease. Despite the occasional stare. Sitting on Cassidy’s shoulder, any Giantfolk shoulder, was disorienting, but I’d managed. Even from up high, there was a lot to take in.

“I’m going to find the gaudiest, most ridiculous thing this market has to offer even if it kills me.” Georgie had stated when we passed under the elaborately decorated entrance.

“Georgie, Auntie Mo is not worth all this effort.” Cassidy sighed. She had visited with Georgie and Tylar a time or two, and seemed alright with my being on her shoulder. It took some getting used to on my end. Literally and metaphorically. The light freckles against her dark skin seemed to glow in the sunlight.

“Auntie Mo gave me a damn sock for Yggsmas last year because she thought I’d like the color scheme and tried to explain it away as a ‘heartfelt and handmade’ gift. She is getting the worst ‘Fuck You’ knick-knack I can find.”

“Georgie-!”

“Don’t tell me you don’t want to do the same. What’d she get you last year, paint thinner?”

“It was her home brewed perfume.”

“For Caduceus’ Sake, how can you NOT want to throw that back in her face somehow?”

“…Maybe I can find her a scented candle she’ll hate.”

“That’s the Yggsmas spirit!”

As we perused the booths, I did my best to enjoy myself. There were plenty of trinkets and art and toys to admire. Plushies ranged from teddy bears to dragons to unicorns. Porcelain dolls dressed in their Yggsmas best sat next to wooden lawn decorations. There were a few food stalls and drink cotes littered among the artisan vendors. From what I saw, it was almost like the Christmas markets from home.

But that was the problem, wasn’t it?

It wasn’t home.

And I didn’t want it to be.

I tried to be good company for their sake, but it wasn’t the same.

If I kept my distance, if I stayed an outsider…I would never have to get used to this place. Would never have to fully accept that this was my life now.

I could keep pretending there was a chance I’d see Ma again.

The best way to keep the bad thoughts at bay was just to play. Maybe I’d be able to earn some more “Yggsmas” treats before the night really settled in. By the time I’d climbed the elaborate metalwork that constructed the bench, the sun was just setting. There was still a good 30 minutes before the lamps and decorations were lit, and people still walked the paths. Many were coming to and from the market for their last-minute shopping. According to the Tergaian calendar I had, it was Yggsmas Eve. And Christmas eve. It still amazed me how some things coincided with Earth, like the names of the days and months, and even some of the holidays.

“-and make sure they’re set properly. Iansa could send her winter storm any day now and I won’t have the park paths unusable.” a voice said as I settled into my spot on the bench. The top of the bench’s back should have scared me, and at times it did, but it was the best way to be seen and avoid getting hit in the face by windblown leaves or trash. For the most part. “After that you can – Oh, good evening.”

I gave the park director a wave before I started playing “Silent Night”. The man was polite enough, and didn’t mind my playing for scraps. Even before the King had sent him a letter about me as well. He almost treated me like any of the other Giantfolk buskers that worked the park. If he had any doubts about my living under a bench, they were gone in the wake of the King’s praises.

“You can head home for the night afterwards.” he continued, his attention back to the park attendant. It was just my luck it was Rogers, the only park employee to outright hate me. I tried to ignore him. He had been pretty hostile when I first arrived. And he still held on to that resentment, despite the manager and the King’s letter. “Good night, and Happy Yggsmas.”

“Right on, sir. Happy Yggsmas to you too, sir.” Rogers replied as cheerily as he could. A sneer returned as soon as the manager left down the path. He spit in my direction but went about his work. Kneeling down he placed his hands on one of the park’s crystal rocks. There was at least one placed between all the benches. When I first arrived, I thought they were some kind of art piece or memorial. Something to give the park style, maybe. Rogers was about to demonstrate how wrong that original assumption was. “Heat.”

The crystal gave a faint glow at the sound of the spell.

Magic was real here. The Giantfolk knew magic and it didn’t even seem like that big a deal to them. The first time I saw it, I hadn’t realized what I was looking at. One of the regular performers at the park was a street magician. I’d stopped to watch during my initial trek around the new, too-big world. He did the usual tricks: guessed at cards, pulled an “endless” string of handkerchiefs from his hand, and the like. Despite my best effort, I had been spotted by the street magician. He barely flinched, however, and found a way to incorporate me into his act, if only for a moment. With a series of hand gestures and simple words, he managed to turn a single flower into a bouquet, from something that barely fit into his arms only for it to somehow appear in mine instantly. I almost dropped the flowers the second they appeared in my hand. It wasn’t possible. It couldn’t have been. After the applause ended, he retrieved the flowers without ever bending down or reaching for them. He simply gave a nod and returned to his work, leaving me awestruck.

Magical Giantfolk. Who would’ve thought?

Rogers muttered a few more spells into the crystal before he continued on his way. He spit once more as he passed me. I gave him a certain hand gesture in return. Rogers would’ve retaliated, I was certain, if other Giantfolk hadn’t arrived. The pair sat on my bench, warm drinks in hand, and actually seemed interested to hear what I had to play. Earth holiday music was just different enough to Tergaian songs that many found it, well, a novelty to hear. I’d been practicing their Yggsmas carols thanks to a portable wireless set I was given, but usually stuck to what I already knew.

Within a few hours, I’d managed to earn a piece of peppermint bark and a veggie tart. It was a good haul. I would’ve loved to share it with someone. I wished Tylar was there. I wished Ma was there…

Oh Ma.

What were you doing right then? Where you sick with worry? Angry? Did you miss me as much as I missed you? After what I’d said…did you miss me at all?

“OH YGGBÍL, OH YGGBÍL, HOW LOVELY ARE THY BRANCHES!”

“Oh for fuck’s sake…” I grumbled. The carolers had come back around. It wasn’t the first time that day, let alone in the last few weeks, that they insisted on singing near my bench. There was usually a “code” among the buskers and street performers: don’t overlap on another’s turf, especially when you had similar “shows”. The only upside was knowing I wasn’t the only one the group had been intruding on. I know the park director had to reprimand them for intruding on others’ acts. If the performers hadn’t chased them off themselves, in their own way. I knew for a fact they were pursued by a flock of the magician’s doves the first time they tried singing near him. The downside being, well, their Giantfolk voices always managed to drown out my songs no matter how much I tried. One voice got lost in a chorus of many, after all.

I was ready to call it a night when the Giant man sat down on my bench.

He wore a dark red coat that matched his flat cap, with white accents throughout his outfit. It certainly looked like the typical holiday fashion I’d spotted throughout that day. Even the inconsiderate carolers were dressed in Yggsmas colors. The man set his bag down beside him and got comfortable. The carolers took this as a good sign and focused their attention on him, ramping up their song.

“Excuse me, but isn’t it rude trying to sing over another performer?” he asked in a strong tone. “I can’t hear the young man play.”

The carolers, for once in their lives, were stunned. Some grumbled and others shot a dirty look or two, but started down the path towards the market. They picked up their song and were out of earshot soon enough.

“Got any requests, bruv? I’ll do my best.” I asked once we were settled again. There was no way I was going to leave without offering something in return.

“I wouldn’t mind something bittersweet, if you can manage.” the man sighed, leaning back against the bench. Strands of tinsel were intwined in the dreadlocks he swept over his shoulder. “It would just be nice to not hear Yggsmas songs for a little while.”

“Say no more. I think you’ll like this one.”

It was an oldie but a goodie, and one I knew by heart. God forbid it should happen, but if ever I lost my hands, I was sure I could still play the tune with my feet. It was one of the first songs I ever learned to play.

It was the first song I ever played for Ma.

“Do you know what Yggsmas is supposed to be about, lad?” he asked after a while.

“Something about…a tree? Ygg…something. I don’t remember the whole thing. Sorry. I know it’s important.”

“Would you like a summary, young man?”

“All right.”

“It’s the day our Mother Tree, Yggbíl, sprouted into existence. Light and warmth came into the world at her arrival. It would take her 7 days before she grew her first fruit, the first forms of life.” he explained, staring off into the distance. His attention turned to the decorations all around us. “Yggsmas is a celebration of her birth, so to speak, and to remind us there is still light and life to be found even during the darkest and coldest times. The year is started off with noise and resolutions to encourage new beginnings and to chase away past regrets.”

The similarity to Christmas and New Year’s celebrations was both comforting and distressing.

“But when you start to really think about the ‘reason for the season’…it’s hard not to get a little cynical around the holidays. Yggbíl’s first fruit…they were what we call the dæmons. They were her first attempt at life, but…she was too young. She wasn’t strong enough to keep them on her branches to grow. They fell before they were ready. And once they hit the ground, well…it wasn’t good.”

He heaved a great sigh and closed his eyes. It was almost like he needed a moment to collect himself. Maybe he was a teacher or a theologian who had lectured this same lesson countless times to students. Probably the first time in a long time to have someone interested in what he had to say. I wasn’t there to judge. Just trying to earn some bread. Literally.

“With no magic of their own, without that needed connection to their Mother Tree, the dæmons rampaged across the land. Maybe it was out of anger, or pain, or…loneliness. They lashed out until Yggbíl was strong enough to create the gods who would defeat them. Or at least, to keep them contained. Many think of it as a good thing, a job well done. Divine triumph and so on. But…was it? The dæmons never asked to be born. They didn’t know how life would be for them in their…imperfect forms. They just wanted to live. How can anyone blame them for trying to survive?”

“…is that why you Giantfolk see us as demons too? Because we’re not…magic or connected or whatever?”

“Another thing I don’t understand. This world isn’t exactly logical sometimes.”

I snorted. I hadn’t meant to, but it came out. My grip tightened on my guitar just in case I needed to make a mad dash for it. I had experience making my way down the bench by then, it would’ve been easy. It was just a matter of being faster than the Giantfolk. It, unfortunately, wouldn’t have been the first time I needed to make a quick escape.

The man’s gentle laugh was a relief.

“Understatement of the century, lad.” he chuckled. I kept playing the bittersweet song he requested, almost on a loop. Not that anyone would have known the difference. The calm mood was broken soon enough. “Something on your mind, son?”

“Hmm?”

“I thought I was the only one feeling melancholy tonight but you seem a bit down yourself.”

There was a part of me that wanted to lie. To ignore the feeling and just keep playing.

“…understatement of a lifetime, bruv.”

“I don’t mind listening if you don’t mind talking about it. You did just hear me prattle on after all.”

I turned towards the Giant, hoping to shrug it all off. Talking about your personal struggle with someone who saw you as some party trick wasn’t exactly a good idea. But as I locked eyes with him, there was just something about him. It could’ve been the earnest look of interest he wore. Or the pair of scars on his cheeks that interested me. Or maybe I just needed a stranger I’d never see again to lend an ear.

“I…I miss home.”

It was enough for everything to start pouring out.

“I mean…I guess most of us, most humans, miss home. Everyday. It’s not like I’m the only one. It’s just…the last person I saw before…before I ‘Crossed Over’…was Ma. We had a fight about…it doesn’t matter. I was being stupid. I was upset over…over something I probably shouldn’t have been, really. I said…I said something…something awful to her before I left and…and now I’ll n-never…I’ll never get to apologize. Because I’m here. I’m stuck HERE and I can’t make it up to her and we’ll never see each other again. I’d…I’d give anything to j-just…to just be able to tell her I was sorry. Or to take it all back like…like it never even happened. I just wish I had a chance to make it right.”

The tears ran down my cheeks without my knowing it. I tried my best to wipe them away but my efforts weren’t enough.

“Sorry bruv, you don’t…this isn’t what you’re here for. I can keep playing…”

“Here.” the man softly said, offering something from his enormous hand. Laying on a fingertip was a handkerchief. When I picked it up, begrudgingly, I saw it was embroidered with an elaborate “C” in the corner. “Take your time, lad.”

I’m afraid to admit it took longer to calm down than I wanted. Once I was all cried out, I made to give the handkerchief back to the man. The man waved my attempts off.

“Yggsmas is…it’s an awful lot like Christmas back home. Not the exact same reasons but…close enough. And same ways to celebrate. Gifts, and songs, and food, and fam…family. This’ll be the first Christmas away from home…away from Earth…and away from Ma. I can’t stop thinking of what’s happening back home. Did Ma decorate this year? Is she alone? Does she…does she think I’m dead? It’s…it’s hard, that’s all.”

My fingers brushed against my guitar strings but no song came to mind. Even strumming random chords felt out of place. The energy was gone.

“I can only imagine what you must be feeling.” the man stated, breaking the silence. “If it were possible, I’d make sure every human who wanted to return to Earth would.”

The sentiment was appreciated. And needed. But I couldn’t help but get hung up on the odd phrasing. “Every human who wanted to”. What human would want to stay here if given the chance to go home?

“Did…does your mother have a favorite ‘Chrizmush’ song? Or a tradition you associate with her?”

“…yeah. Of course.” I replied eventually.

“Think of it before you go to sleep tonight. It may just help.” he stated, rummaging around in his bag. He pulled out a package and studied it carefully. “Don’t suppose these guitar strings would be of any use, would they?”

“They’re practically perfect, bruv.” I answered as he held the package up for me to inspect. “They seem like premium strings though. I’d feel bad if you had to give them up for lil’ ol’ me.”

“You don’t ‘give up’ gifts, you present them.” he stated, shrinking the package down in a flash and holding it out once more. I was less hesitant to accept something from his immense hand this time.

“Thanks, bruv. And…thanks for listening.”

“This world can be illogical and hostile towards you and your kind. It won’t be an easy life here. Please try to keep in mind, there is kindness too, when it decides to show itself. I know it’s not much, but I hope it’s a small comfort for you. Have a good night, and Merry Christmas, Waseem.”

“Happy Yggsmas, mister.”

…Wait.

Did I tell him my name?

The Giant man was already gone before I turned to face him.

I was already making my descent down the bench when I heard the carolers returning. If they were so determined to sing that night, they could have the spot. They’d be gone by the day after. Might as well let others drive them off in my stead.

As I touched the ground, a series of loud sniffles caught my attention. Standing tall and gangly, his scarred nose searching around him, was a fox I knew all too well. Robin was a friend, in a way, since my first days in the park. I came across him on my travels around the park one day. The fox had gotten himself caught in something while snapping at a badger. I was scared at first, but it didn’t seem right to let the poor tod not have a fair fight. Especially when the striped bastard took a swipe at his face. I managed to get his leg free before anything more could happen. Afterwards, he seemed to follow me whenever I walked around the park or managed an overload of food for the day.

“Hey there, Robin.” I called out. The massive fox took a few sniffs my way and got excited. He yipped a few times before he turned his attention to the scraps on the ground. “Go on, boy. All for you. I’m good for the night.”

Robin set to eating the leftover bark and tart right then and there. I turned to enter my tent when I felt his nose on my back. The first few times he had done so, I was terrified. I thought for sure he decided mouse-sized meant mouse-meal too. It took a while to realize he was trying to be friendly. I gave him his now-expected pats and scratches before too many people stopped by. Once there were more Giantfolk than scraps, he dashed off into the night.

It was hard getting to sleep that night. The wireless played as I tried to doze off. The Yggsmas carols were comforting but disconcerting. They were strange and familiar and out of place but recognizable all at once. After a while, I gave up and turned it off. As I rolled over, a hand instinctively reached out for Tylar. Nights were easier when he was around. Days were easier. Life was easier. I’d have to find some way to make it up to him, too. If ever he decided to come back.

Ma would’ve known what to say. She was always good with these sorts of things. God knows she put her foot in her mouth enough times through the years. Ma always found some way to patch things up in the end.

Oh Ma.

I miss you more than you know.

The Giant’s suggestion soon came to mind. What harm could it have done?

I began humming the first verse softly to myself before letting the lyrics pour out. It was Ma’s way of waking me up on Christmas Day if I hadn’t rushed into her bedroom first. We were born and raised in the town it was named for, after all. It was a cheesy song, but it was her favorite. I wasn’t even halfway done before I finally felt drowsiness overcome me.

Maybe there was an expectation to relive old memories. To remember the good times from days past and hope that would be enough.

What I didn’t expect was to find myself home again.

Everything seemed as it ever was: worn but carefully maintained furniture, knick-knacks dotting the mantel alongside family photos, and the smell of something absolutely delicious in the oven. A Christmas tree sat in its usual spot in a corner, decorated but barely. In fact, there were fewer decorations than usual. Enough to celebrate, but only just. I took a chance and carefully walked from the living room to look into the kitchen. Standing at the sink, her face towards her task, was a short, squat woman with graying red hair tied into a braid.

It was her.

It was really her.

“Ma?”

The figure stood still for a moment. She almost seemed ready to turn around, but thought against it. The dishwashing continued instead. I took a cautious step forward, crossing the checkered linoleum until I stood next to her. Even then, she kept her eyes to the sink.

She slowly handed me a plate, still wet but clean from her scrubbing.

I took the drying towel, which hung from a handle nearby, and started drying. Just like I used to do every night after dinner.

The silence was overwhelming and tense but…it was Ma. It was home. I couldn’t be happier.

Now if only she’d talk to me.

“I’m sor-!”

“I’m so sorry, Waseem.” she stated quickly. There was a moment as we both tried to process what was said. She breathed a sigh of relief soon enough. “I mean it. I’m sorry I said what I said and did what I did.”

“I’m sorry too.” I replied. “I shouldn’t have gotten angry. It wasn’t worth-!”

“Don’t you lie to me, Waz.” she interrupted, handing me a bowl. “You know damn well you had every right to be angry. Don’t tell tales just to make me feel better. I raised-! …That is, you know better than that.”

As I wiped down the bowl, I tried to think of something to say. Months to think about how I wanted this conversation to go, thinking I had every possible angle planned…and I was still drawing a blank.

“…You’re right. I was angry. And it WAS my right to be angry. But that doesn’t mean I should’ve…I shouldn’t’ve said you weren’t my real mum.”

The silence was tense as we continued to clean and dry and set the various dishes into the drying rack.

“…Ma? Why didn’t you ever tell me about them?”

She hesitated. For a long time, there was only her washing the same platter. I thought for sure I’d never hear her speak again.

“Amina never wanted them to get their hands on you.” Ma finally said, handing me the next piece to dry. “Her family was…there was a reason she eloped, and a reason she left him, and a reason she stayed with me.”

“Because she loved you.”

“Aheh. Yes. Because she loved me. Because she loved you. And because Amina knew they’d do everything in their power to take you from her.” she explained. A soft smile crossed her face at the memory. I never knew my birth mother, but Ma did. She started to tear up soon enough. “I’m so stupid. I should…I should have told you ages ago. I failed her. I failed you. I failed in ways I never meant to.”

“Ma, you didn’t. I promise. You did your best and I turned out alright. Mostly.”

“I said I’d always protect you and…and I couldn’t even do that. I wanted to make sure you were never called…that word…for as long as I could. But I couldn’t stop that Calvin from when we lived in London, could I?”

“…The first time I was called that was when I was 9. By Cousin Bentley. But I settled it right away.” I explained. There was still that terrible feeling all over just remembering it. That lump in the pit of my stomach, the racing of my heart, the ache of someone I knew hurting me so deep. That first time I heard my rat-faced cousin call me that, it was like a slap in the face. “I mean, you didn’t really believe he slipped and got his face stuck to the table with his model glue on accident, right?”

“…What.”

“Ma. C’mon.”

“What.”

“There was a reason I gave him bottles of glue for his birthday and Christmas. It took him a few years to get the point, but he apologized. I promise.”

“That little son of a bitch.”

“Ma, that’s your sister. What’s past is past.” I said, trying to calm her down. Her ears were turning as red as her hair. She was ready to blow like a kettle if she lingered on the thought for too long. “Calvin got what he deserved too, remember. I’d still like to shake the hand of the guy who beat his ass though. Never did figure that out, did we?”

It came as a surprise to feel Ma slip her hand into mine instead of another plate. The realization only dawned on me when she started to shake our hands up and down.

“Ma.”

“That chav cunt had it coming.”

“MA.”

“I wasn’t about to let him get away with letting those words fall out of his mouth. He’s lucky his teeth didn’t follow close behind.”

“Ma, he went to hospital! Had stitches and, what, a broken rib? How’d you avoid going to jail for assaulting a kid?!”

“A teen!”

“STILL!”

“I told his mum if she tried to file charges, I’d tell her husband about all the comings and goings from her house while he was at work.”

“…Holy shit, how’d you know she was cheating on him?!”

“I didn’t. she just assumed I knew something.” Ma chuckled, a smile returning to her face. She set down the teapot she was trying to clean. “God Above, but this was a good dream.”

“Ma?” I asked gently, trying to catch her eyes again. They had remained on our task the whole time. Never once did she turn her head. Not even try to see me from the corner of her eye.

“I’ve had it before, you know. At least once a week since you disappeared. Rightly disappeared, even. No one but that mental Missus Wilson saw you just…vanish. They wouldn’t believe me when I tried to explain. Everyone thinks you just took off and I was having a mental break or something.”

I just kept drying the same bowl, waiting for her to continue.

“Every time, you would call ‘Ma’, and every time I would turn to see you. And…and every time you would just…just disappear again. I thought maybe this time if I didn’t turn, if I concentrated on just…just washing the dishes, you’d be able to stay. For good. Forever.”

“What makes you think this is a dream this time?” I asked, more to myself than her. It all felt very real. Maybe I was home. Maybe I was back to the life I knew and loved and Ma would be alright. We would be alright.

But…that meant Tylar would be gone too…

“You remember this teapot?”

I looked at the one she held. It was familiar. More than familiar, actually. It was one I had made for her in a ceramics class. It was a simple, ordinary shaped pot but brightly colored and covered in garden flowers and bugs.

“I broke it during our move back to Killarney from London. I hadn’t meant to but…I still did. I glued it back together but told myself it would stay in a special place from then on. But here it is, all in one piece. Like I’d never dropped the damn thing.”

Tears started coming down her face. And seeing her cry just made me want to cry too.

“I want to stay, Ma. I never would’ve left if…if it meant I would never see you again.” I explained. She choked up at the thought, and the tears ran like rivers. “I miss you so much. All I want is to come home.”

“Oh God, you’re dead. You’re dead and…and…”

“No, no, I’m alive. But where I am…I don’t think I can make it back. I want to. It’s…it’s not much of a life but…I did meet somebody. I think you’d like him. But it’s not the same. And…I want you to know, all right? Every day I think of you, and miss you, and want to be home. Please remember that: I love you Ma, and I always will.”

Ma finally turned to face me. Streak marks were already showing up on her cheeks from the tears. Her eyes were red, and wide, and searching, and desperate, and the deep green I knew and loved. When she saw I was still there, she dropped the teapot into the sink. With a speed I never would’ve expected from her, she reached for me.

“Maybe if I hold on to you this time…maybe you’ll stay…” she explained, wrapping her arms around me.

I didn’t argue.

I wanted it to be true, too.

I returned her embrace. It was the tightest hug. It was the best hug. It was the longest hug.

It would be the last hug we’d give each other.

The tears were already falling before I woke up.

I heaved great big sobs, just letting the emotions wash over me.

I had gotten my wish after all.

It took ages for me to stop, and to calm down. It felt like swimming in a whirlpool of relief and sorrow. Ma knew I was alive. I knew she was all right. We’d had our say, no matter how short it was.

What was next?

“Apologize to Tylar, for one thing…” I mumbled to myself. He deserved that, and more, but it would be a start. I didn’t know how I would make it up to him, but I knew I had to. I hadn’t been the best boyfriend the last few days. If he came to visit today, I’d make him feel as special as I knew him to be.

It was as I was getting dressed that I finally noticed something odd.

It was quiet.

Too quiet.

Checking the time, it was a little after 7 am. At the very least, there should’ve been the cooing of pigeons or growling of dragons or other signs of wildlife. Maybe the thundering of joggers and runners as they made their way down the path. Something had to be wrong. I was cautious, slowly unzipped the tent flap, and peeked outside.

The world was pitch black.

“Oh no…” I muttered. I let the tent flap fall back in place as I reached for a spare lantern. It took a few tries to get the damned thing lit. The crystal chip inside gave off a strong glow on the third try. When I went to inspect the outside, my worst fears were confirmed. In the bright light, I could see exactly what caused the darkness: snow.

The storm had come early.

The bench was surrounded by walls of snow. I could only imagine how bad the outside looked in comparison. The Giantfolk could write it off as only a meter at best. To me, down here, it was enough to cover a house at least. Some of the flakes still trickled in through the bench slots above, but barely. There was a light dusting on the ground but the walls worried me the most.

I was trapped.

A cautious testing of the snow proved it was solid enough. Maybe. Even if I had a shovel, digging myself out sounded like a bad idea. There was no telling if I’d cause an avalanche or a cave-in during my attempts. Worse yet, with it being a Giantfolk holiday, who knew when someone would walk by. I was on my own for this.

I needed time to think.

Packing up was my first priority. Everything, with the exception of a few key items and my guitar, made it into the special backpack. Apparently, it had a spell on it that made it bigger on the inside. More than convenient, if you asked me. Especially when it came to stuffing my favorite blanket inside. It was a handmade, knitted gift from one of my “regulars”. She was a sweet old lady who appreciated good music when she heard it. It wasn’t something I wanted to leave behind. Using the lantern, I double-checked the area. The snow was packed all around, creating an unintentional igloo without an entrance.

I stared at the stone chip in my hand. It was part of that very first donation from Tylar and Georgie. He explained it was part of something called a Jumper Stone. The SAIH folks didn’t have the resources for full working stones to distribute, but the stones and crystals could still hold magic when broken apart. Inconvenient for the Giantfolk, but adequate for us humans. I was warned it would be a one-shot deal though, and to use it wisely. It would teleport me to wherever Georgie and Tylar lived.

“Here I come, Tylar.” I muttered as I squeezed the chip.

I don’t know what I was expecting. A “whoosh”? The ground dropping away from me? Every atom of my being to tear apart and mesh again?

What I didn’t expect…was failure.

The stone chip did nothing as I tried squeezing it over and over.

“Ok, that’s…that’s fine. Just use the other one.”

The other one was, as Georgie explained, a proper Jumper Stone. Shrunken down, of course, but much better than just a chip. This one in particular was of the highest grade, capable of multiple “Jumps” if needed. It was the one from the king’s gift package. The one that would bring me far away to the king’s castle.

I admit, I hesitated taking it out of its box.

“It’s…it’s fine. You’ll be fine. It’s an open invitation, and it’s not like you’re moving into the place. You just need to interrupt the king of a Giant country on a Giant world on an important national Giant holiday so you don’t suffocate to death under a snow bank.”

With a deep breath, I squeezed and hoped for the best.

What I got was…not the best.

“…What the Hell is going on?” I said, squeezing the stone over and over again. It took a moment to notice the note stuck inside stone’s carrying case.

It read:

“This Jumper Stone will bring you straight to Castle Arcadi when squeezed. Be sure to recharge it by setting it under sunlight or in water or buried under the earth. Do this once a week for anywhere between 1 hour to 6 hours for a full charge.”

“Shit.”

I’d kept both the chip and the stone hidden away in their boxes for the last few weeks.

“SHIT!”

The swears and insults came fast and loud. I couldn’t help it. I was doomed. How was anyone supposed to find me in time? Was this really how I was going to die? Underneath a park bench in the middle of nowhere? On Christmas?!

That’s when the walls started caving in.

“AH!”

Well, one wall.

“What the-?!”

Well, part of a wall.

The snow came crashing down and I was running in the opposite direction in an instant. I thought for sure the entire structure would fall from the sudden force. The other walls managed to stay in place however. The snow must have been packed well enough to keep them steady.

I turned to face my savior.

YIP YIP

“Robin!” I yelled as the fox dug his way through. He shook himself free of the snow in his fur before sniffing his way towards me. I gave him his usual pats in appreciation. “Oh, thank God for you, you mangy ol’ tod you.”

Robin didn’t seem interested in the pats or the insults for long. He sniffed his way around the area, making paw prints in the snow. My guess was he heard my voice and hoped some of the usual scraps could be found too. He gave another yip before he made his way out from under the bench. I didn’t blame him.

We both had other places to be.

Heading towards Georgie and Tylar would’ve been a good idea. Crossing the market space probably would’ve been easier with everyone elsewhere for the day. And, naturally, it would’ve been quite the surprise for them to see me turn up on their doorstep.

If only I knew where their doorstep was.

Georgie mentioned an apartment near the university, but I didn’t know what building let alone an apartment number. Who knew if she and Tylar hadn’t left to visit her family already?

I couldn’t risk it.

I decided to head north, towards the Giantfolk temple. Tylar said they were letting humans hole up in their halls for the winter, after all. Hopefully they’d find me in a few days or weeks. The idea of not seeing Tylar again for a long time hurt. But I couldn’t stay.

It took a bit of effort to climb out of the hole Robin made. When I reached the top of the snow bank, I was surprised at what I saw. Mostly confused, truthfully. The storm had clearly hit, the piles of snow were evidence of that. But the usual walking path and benches looked like the oddest chess board imaginable. Every other bench was covered and piled over like mine had been, while others were mostly clear. The path randomly had clear patches of road among packed snow and ice. A barely made trail zig-zagged through the patchwork snow piles. There must have been at least a few Giantfolk who had the guts to traverse the blizzard’s aftermath.

“HOW IN CADUCEUS’ NAME COULD YOU SCREW UP THIS BADLY, ROGERS?!” a familiar voice bellowed as I slid down to the ground. Coming my way was the park director with Rogers close behind him. It was quite the sight to see them carefully making their way down the trampled trail. “YOU HAD JUST BETTER HOPE NO ONE HAS FALLEN OR FROZEN TO DEATH IN ALL OF THIS!”

“Sir, forgive me, you have to believe me, this could never happen unless-!” Rogers began, stammering out his excuses. He spotted me soon enough, and pointed an accusing finger. “Unless something messed with the crystals! It had to be him, he’s here all the time! Done it to make me look bad, I know it! Nasty little díbeartach shouldn’t be squatting-!”

Something snapped. I wasn’t going to be insulted with Giantfolk slurs, and I wasn’t going to take false accusations.

“OH YEAH, YOU FOUND ME OUT! I DID IT SO I COULD BE BURIED UNDERNEATH THE SNOW AND DIE OF ASPHYXIATION AND HYPOTHERMIA! HOW DID YOU EVER GUESS?! FUCKING MORON.” I yelled at the top of my lungs.

“How dare you-!”

“ENOUGH!” the director interrupted quickly. “Even IF he damaged the crystals, WHICH I DOUBT, it would still fall on you for not casting the proper spells to reinforce them! I had you maintain them all week for this reason! Now go grab a shovel from the equipment shed, and clear this all up the Gan-Bhrí way if you want to keep your job!”

Rogers, thankfully, clammed up and followed the suggestion. I wouldn’t miss him, that was for sure. Maybe in time, he would be a little humbler.

But I doubted it.

“…And where are you off to?” the park director asked. He had noticed my walking away from the bench. “The area should be clear soon enough.”

“Actually, I, um, I think I’m going to find somewhere else to uh…stay. Until the snow melts, anyway.” I found myself replying. The look on his face was…well, it was a surprise. He looked almost crestfallen at the news. It wasn’t something I was expecting from any of the Giantfolk.

“Oh. Will you be back?”

I wasn’t certain why I felt it was important to answer his question. Let alone sincerely.

“Yeah. Yeah, I think I will. I mean, if you don’t mind me coming back, bruv.”

“As long as I’m director, you’ll always be welcome. I do admit, I will miss your songs. Your bench will be waiting for you when you return. Safe travels, lad.”

“Thanks. Happy Yggsmas, bruv.”

It took some time to make it to the park entrance. I stopped to take breaks along the trampled snow path. I managed to catch sight of Robin along the way. He was hopping through the snow, much like when he dove into the snow to free me. Not that he saw it, but I waved my goodbye as he passed. Hopefully he would be here when I came back. Life was going to be a struggle for the both of us. I was lucky that what few Giantfolk I crossed along the way stopped to let me pass or made sure to carefully step over me. It was terrifying, to say the least.

But not as terrifying as reaching the public street.

Flashbacks to that first time came rushing as I reached the curb. Doubts flooded in again as I looked around. There would be immense horses pulling carts or carrying riders. The other side of the pavement felt like a kilometer away just looking at it. The Giant guard standing in the crosswalk didn’t help matters either. She seemed to be directing traffic as best she could while the main road was blocked off. A Yggsmas parade perhaps? It was hard to tell and I wasn’t in the mood for sightseeing. I had a goal in mind. When the light changed, I screwed up all my courage and made a mad dash.

Screaming all the way.

I didn’t even make it half way before I had to stop.

“A bit dramatic there, doona ye think?” the Giant guard asked when I stopped. Her eyes were still on her job as I caught my breath. I waited by her, until she gave the all clear to cross again. As I set off, screaming again, she made one last comment. “…Humans. Pfft.”

One corner down at least.

The pavement was manageable enough. There were Giantfolk out, making their way to wherever they needed to be. I kept to the curbside, just in case. Most of the stores were closed, thankfully. I couldn’t imagine making the trek with a large crowd.

“Oh shit, what’s the spring going to look like coming back?” I mumbled to myself as I reached the next corner. The temple was getting closer in sight, thankfully. The street was a little too busy for my liking this time. So, I did something I never thought I’d do.

I took a chance and asked for Giantfolk help.

“Erm, excuse me, miss?” I called out to the Giant next to me. She was dressed to the nines with leather and spikes. Colored appropriately for the holiday, of course. It took all I had not to swat at the jingle bells hanging off of her boot laces. The over-sized crock pot she carried was sure to have something delicious inside. “Think you can help a fella out?”

“How’s that, m’man?” she chuckled once she caught sight of me.

“I, um…I don’t suppose you’d mind if I crossed the road with you? I don’t think I can make it on my own in time.”

“Doona think I can carry ye an’ me pot at the same time.”

“What if I…what if I rode from down here instead?” I asked, staring at her boots. There were enough belts and buckles on them after all. They had to be good for hand and foot holds, right? I took the chance and climbed onto the side of her boot, swatting a bell in the process. “I’ll hop off as soon as we reach the curb. Sound all right?”

“All right by me, mate. Hang on tight, aye? Here we go!”

She did her best to keep her footfalls slow and steady. The rise and fall of each boot was intense. It was like riding some slapped together carnival ride where you just heard several screws come undone. I was grateful of course, but as soon as we reached the other side I hopped off.

“Thanks again, bruv!” I yelled out, waving a quick goodbye. I took a moment to catch my breath against a lamppost. “Holy shit, I am never doing that again.”

The next corner would be the last one I needed to cross.

The road was busier this time, with carts and wagons and carriages and riders practically filling the street. The temple was a busy place to be, it seemed. It felt more like a taxi stop in front of a train station. Many people were being picked up and dropped off, or directed to park somewhere else. I wasn’t sure if I would make it across by myself again.

“Da, look!” a voice called out from above.

I dreaded to turn my head, but turn it I did. The Giant kid had his eyes on me. Ignoring him wasn’t an option. If I didn’t keep on my toes, I would be grabbed. Kids attempted it before in the park. Why would here be any different?

“Yes kiddo, a human. Leave him be now. We have to cross the street, all right?” the father gently said. He had another child in his arms while the curious boy held onto a loaded basket of goodies with him. Otherwise, I was sure he would’ve just picked the kid up. He tugged the basket, in the hopes of urging the boy to start walking. The kid kept watching me instead.

Inspiration struck.

I swung my guitar from its place and started strumming. When the kid giggled, I made sure his eyes were still on me. I ran a bit ahead, strumming a tune. The kid was more eager to cross the street now, with his father in tow. I almost laughed when the Giant dad mouthed the words “thank you” in the middle of the road. Traffic waited for us, as no one was going to make a parent and their children rush across the road. The father distracted him at the last moment so I could make my “escape”. They were halfway up the temple stairs when I hopped up onto the pavement.

“…Oh shit.”

The stairs.

I hadn’t taken literal, Giant-sized steps into account in my plan.

Aches and pains were already creeping into my legs. A few minutes’ walk to the Giantfolk was hours for me. The idea of climbing each step was exhausting just to think about. Maybe this was doomed for failure after all.

“Taking a rest too, my friend?”

I turned to see an older Giant sitting on the steps. His pipe was filled with something sweet and pleasing and comforting. A prayer rug sat rolled up tight in his lap.

“As-Salaam-Alaikum.” I greeted automatically. Not that I expected him to know the saying. But a part of me wished he did.

“Wa-Alaikum-Salaam.” he responded kindly.

“I…I was just trying to figure out how to take on these steps, bruv.”

“Hmm. They are a worthy opponent indeed. These old bones certainly don’t carry quite like they used to.” he said with a puff of his pipe. He gestured to something behind me. “Though I do believe that was made to help you and yours.”

It looked like a slide running down the stairs. A box was set atop it with a cable attached towards the temple. It certainly looked out of place. Why hadn’t I noticed it before? Maybe because I was more worried about making it here alive.

“Oh. That’s…huh. Do you need any help, br…sir?”

“Probably. But I’ll be fine. I just need a few moments. Don’t you worry about me.”

The box would prove to be more than I expected. On closer inspection, I saw a door cut into each side. There sat a bench within, and small crystal chip within reach of the seat. Once I was in place, I took the chance and touched the crystal. It jerked forward in an instant, and slowly made its way forward and upward. It was the most excruciating rollercoaster I’d ever been on. I tried to concentrate on anywhere but outside the box. An eternity later, it finally reached the top of the “hill” and stopped. I scrambled out and watched as it slowly returned itself to the bottom of the steps.

“Oh dear God, never again.” I said aloud. Once my heart started beating again, I turned toward the temple entrance itself. It was tall, and grand, and looked like some kind of Greek or Roman structure on the outside. What little I could see of the interior reminded me more of the cathedrals from home. Glimpses of reliefs, and statues, and stained glass caught my eye.

Now that I was there…I wasn’t sure what to do.

Maybe this was a bad idea after all.

“Welcome, young man.” a voice called from above. A Giant in monk’s robes was standing nearby. She seemed to be the temple greeter, welcoming the other attendees and offering directions or answers when needed. “Do you need any help?”

“I…um…” I started, not sure what to ask or how to ask it. My brain shorted out, I admit. A step forward activated something beneath my feet. Tiles, recently added, now stood out from the ancient floor. A soft blue glow led into the temple and around a corner. It took a moment to realize it was a path meant for humans hopping off the make-shift tram. I turned my attention back to the monk. “There’s a man down the steps who could use a hand, bruv.”

“So there is. Thank you for pointing him out for me. Why don’t you show yourself in and get warmed up?” she offered, gesturing along the blue glowing tiles. The monk was already making her way down the steps before I could thank her. I was glad to hear her once more before I entered the building. “As-Salaam-Alaikum!”

The inside of the temple was busy and overflowing with Giantfolk. The center of it all seemed to contain colossal statues surrounded by worshippers and piles of gifts. Food and trinkets made in offering? I would have to ask for sure once everything settled down. Maybe tomorrow. For now, I would continue following the path before me. It rounded a corner near the entrance and led to an alcove. I should have been interested in the lights hanging above the area, or the drinking fountain that had tubes and ladders and a platform hanging from its side. The paintings and wall mosaics would have been a sight too.

But I was more stunned by what was set up along the wall instead.

Humans.

There were other humans here too.

Familiar lean-tos and tents and bed rolls lined up next to each other. A couple of people were surrounding a fire nearby. No. not a fire: it was another crystal structure. Giving off light and warmth as they sat on benches made of random Giantfolk detritus, it seemed. Boxes and spools and the like. If I hadn’t felt like some kind of Borrower before, it certainly felt like it now. I caught the eye of someone by the crystal, who nudged another next to them. They all turned to look at me.

I offered an awkward wave. My heart jumped for joy at the sight of them returning the gesture.

“WAAAAASSSSEEEEEEEM!”

The rest of me jumped at the sound of my name.

I had barely turned to see who called out for me when I was tackled and spun in place.

“WASEEM! YER ALL RIGHT!” Tylar shouted as he hugged me. I automatically returned the embrace. We were kissing soon enough, but he managed to insult me with each breath. “Ye stupid MWAH idiot MWAH arsehole MWAH bastard MWAH I was MWAH so worried MWAH about ye!”

“We…thought…blizzard…park…bench…cave-in!” Georgie stated from behind him. She was kneeling on the ground, on the other side of the blue tile path. A full basket sat at her side as she tried to catch her breath. “You were…and then…park director…said…headed north…temple…glad you’re…okay…”

“We ran here as soon as we saw the state of the park. We saw yer bench an’ feared the worst, especially with those fox tracks! Thought that damn Robin did something to ye!”

“Heh. He was the one who got me out, actually. I can tell you the whole story.” I replied. “Thank you both for worrying about me. And…I’m sorry for how I’ve been acting, luv. I was an arsehole and I want to make it up to you in any way I can. Can you ever forgive me?”

“Hmm. Maybe. Yer gonna have to work hard at it though. I am very demandin’, ye know.”

“You’re worth it.” I chuckled. I pointed towards the encampment and the other humans, who seemed both anxious and curious at our reunion. “Wanna help me with the meet and greet and pick out a good spot for my tent?”

“I would be happy to. Ye may wanna offer yer thanks to the gods first, though. Tergaians consider it bad luck not to thank’em fer the Sanctuary they provide.”

“You guys go on…I have to make my offerings too.” Georgie said, finally rested. She grabbed her basket and set off in the other direction, waving one more time.

“Oh, do we…uh…do we need to give something to?” I asked as Tylar grabbed my hand and started to lead the way. His confidence in navigating the Giantfolk crowds was both terrifying and amazing.

“Nah, Tergaians and their gods doona expect it. Still, ye shoodne take the chance. I’ve seen the weirdest shit happen when ye doona pay yer respects.” Tylar replied, leading us towards the closest statue. I couldn’t make out who or what it was supposed to be and craning my neck hurt in the attempt. Tylar pointed towards something attached to the base in front of us. It was a poster -no, a photograph- of the very statue, with a summary of who they were and what they did. It didn’t look professionally done, but it was still made with care. “One time, me an’ mum saw an apple sour right in the hands a’ someone who dinna ask befer takin’ from the pile. Ankou may be the Solemn One but he doesne hesitate to act.”

“So, you know all this stuff by heart already, huh?”

“Well, when ye were born an’ raised in an Ankou temple, ye tend to learn a thing or two about the process. Especially when ye canna escape the bellowin’ lectures of Elder Zachary.”

Tylar was keeping his eyes on the statue infographic when I glanced at him. I admit, my jaw had dropped to the floor at the revelation.

“…I dinna mention it cuz ye seemed really hung up on if I were from Earth or not. I…was scared ye’d hate me if ye knew I’m Tergaian-born…” Tylar stated softly. “I dinna wanna lose ye over it.”

“I’m sorry I made you feel the need to hide it. It was…it was stupid of me to think it was so important. I love you, no matter what.” I replied. “And I want to hear all about it, your life and your parents and even Elder Zachary’s proselytizing.”

“No ye doona. Elder Zach was one Hells uv’a blowhard.” he chuckled, turning to face me. I gave him a quick kiss and squeezed his hand. “Mum was born here too. Dad’s from someplace called California. So…I know of Earth but not as much as I’d like.”

“Well, I don’t know as much as I should about Tergaia so…who do you recommend I thank?”

Tylar really opened up as we toured each statue. He gave his summaries and his reasons for thanking each of them. Ankou, a god of Death, for staying his hand that day. Dao-Ming, a goddess of Luck, for the abundance I seemed to have. Kismet, a goddess of Destiny, and the Queen of the pantheon, for writing me a safe path in her book. There were more, and they each received a word of thanks in the “proper way”, as Tylar called it.

It wasn’t until we reached the final statue, the biggest of them all, in the center of the temple. The others were lined in a circle surrounding it, and had been easier to walk between. We had waited for the crowds to dwindle enough to race towards it. The offering pile was immense compared to the others, and for good reason. The picture didn’t look nearly as intimidating as it did from my angle. The man was dressed in a toga, with odd marks on its cheeks, and plaited hair. This statue was of Caduceus, the king of the Gods, a god of Healing.

Healing.

It was definitely something I had needed.

My heart still ached for home, and for Ma, and for how life would be for me in a world of Giantfolk. But something about last night, whether it was the confession to a stranger, or the dream, or even the trek from today, that helped.

The healing process had begun. No matter how small it seemed.

“I…I think I’ll make an offering to this guy.” I said, taking off my backpack. I began rummaging for something, anything to give in thanks. “What do you recommend, luv?”

“It could be anything, really. Just so long as it’s heartfelt or sincere.”

An idea popped to mind. Maybe it didn’t have to be something physical.

“Um, Caduceus, god of Health and Healing, hear my…prayer. I don’t have much in the way of an offering, but I want to thank you…and the other gods too…for letting me stay here. And for looking out for me today. I think. I mean, I avoided death several times today by mere centimeters, so it had to be by some kind of divine providence. Whether it was God, or you, or the other gods, or just…I dunno, the universe.”

The Giant who was kneeling nearby in his own prayer glanced in my direction.

“It’s a long story, bruv.” I told him, grabbing my guitar once again.

“…Humans.” the Giant muttered, returning to his prayer.

“So, just in case you and yours were looking out for me today, I’d like to play a song. It’s a Christmas song. Christmas is…a long explanation, but trust me: it’s in the spirit of the holiday. It’s…it’s my Ma’s favorite, and I miss her a lot. Hopefully it’s…it’s good enough for you, and for these halls.”

With a deep breath, I started playing the first few chords of the cherished tune.

“The holly green, the ivy green The prettiest picture you've ever seen It's Christmas in Killarney With all of the folks at home

It's nice, ya know, to kiss your beau While cuddlin' under the mistletoe And Santa Claus, ya know of course Is one of the boys from home…”

As I sang, I thought of all the Christmases past. Of Ma belting at the top of her lungs to wake me up. Of presents, and discarded gift wrap piles, of cooking breakfast afterwards. Of other holidays, of birthdays, of the good days, and the bad days, of how much I was going to miss her.

Of how hard it was going to be moving forward.

But forward I would go.

I couldn’t stay in one spot any more. This world was mine now, and I was going to learn whatever I needed to.

Not just to survive.

But to live.

To live a life Ma would be proud of.

“…It's nice, ya know, to kiss your beau While cuddlin' under the mistletoe And Santa Claus, ya know of course Is one of the boys from home

The holly green, the ivy green The prettiest picture you've ever seen I'm handin' you no blarney No matter where you roam It's Christmas in Killarney With all of the folks at home!”

Polite applause was heard as I finished up. It wasn’t a surprise to see Tylar showing his appreciation, but the Giant congregant was unexpected. He left soon enough to be replaced by other Giantfolk. By then, me and Tylar were making our way back to the human alcove. Living with people my size, living among humans was something I had wanted for months. The prospect was terrifying after living in the park. But I wanted to make the effort. I needed to make the effort.

I wanted to be normal again.

And I wanted to be normal with Tylar, no matter how long it took.

“…Luv? Would you like to help me write a letter to the king?”

The End

#tales of far from home #tales of ffh #toffh #far from home #ffh #giant #tiny #fantasy #stories

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badbitchwhomeditates · 3 years

Text

Who the fuck is this bitch?!

Read that again.

The answer is complex, not simple, which is what complex means you dumb fuck ( beep language kiddo). Ok, lets try that again...

Bad Bitch Who Meditates, a 23 year old singer with dreams bigger than the world itself, which is both a good and a bad thing, we will get to the importance of duality later. Either way she´s been struck by lightning and pushed into a corner loads of times in an industry where you have to fight to be heard and seen through the smallest of cracks. And yes I might also speak about myself in third person a lot, simply because I'm practicing being the main character from all perspectives, telling my story but also making everyday feel like an adventurous movie ( therefore the narrator vibes help).

Complaining, complaning, victim mindset bla bla bla you might think, im not gonna bore you, you know that things can be quite shit and you’ve probably heard about the `struggling artist” and all of that before.

Lets spread some more negativity shall we ey?

Maybe not that either, im just welcoming you in to my brain and my stream of consciousness on the journey of becoming or remaining? we shall see.

Im not gonna be here being all fairy lights and glitter in my eyes either, I am tho some days, but lately I’ve been bad, not a bitch cause I would never, slightly a bitch towards myself and I haven’t really done my meditation, its like the second I put down ” bad bitch who meditates, thats my slogan” in a song, I was like, cool its in a tune now so I’ve done the work I can relax.

Nope, it doesn’t stop.

Consistency in self care, healthy habits and your mental diet, the way you speak to yourself, it doesn’t stop. And its fkn annoying sometimes, especially when your chemical imbalance is so imbalanced that you don’t wanna get out of bed. Ive probably dealed with anxiety and depression since my debut on X-factor, oh yeah shit sorry, I have a name too, Im Awa and I won X-factor Sweden at 15 years old, completely changed my life like a marriage, for better or for worse. In that marriage I found myself, lost myself and now im kind of finding myself again...

Ok this is the part below where you get to knoooow me or something...

I guess why I wanted to start blogging again is A) I need to hold myself accountable to remain consistent with my glow up, cause I can proudly say I’ve really done some amazing progress and inner work B) I need to continue doing that and find my healthy balance and not put too much pressure on myself, ya get me? C) maybe help take away the stigma regarding mental health, and I wanna focus on the solutions, thats my whole new life concept 10 % problems, 90 % solutions, like if we are discussing something thats the ratio. Cause how can we ever see a solution if we go slow dancing w the problem for ages?

I know it can feel fkn amazing and cozy, like when you’ve been in bed w someone thats clearly not good for your heartstrings but you stay there anyway because for right now it feels all warm and fuzzy.

Oh silly girl, I mean forgiveness, forgiving other people and forgiving myself that is def something we are going to have to discuss as well, its one of the things I’ve tried to commit to this year. Ive come to the conclusion that its harder forgiving yourself after being too nice, theres only so much space on the scale for resentment, but you go to bed with you all the time and you beat yourself up on why you allowed that to happen? (Did that make any sense??)

Again, another lesson, feedback that we can grow from. Mind management, one of my fav terms, mind over matter. Damn sure that can feel extremely provocative said in the wrong situation. Im gonna be honest on here, ill make an oath or whatever its called ( oh yeah im also Swedish so we will have communication problems here and there, but whatever, I call that acceptance) ill be honest, personal but not private cause I need to protect my energy.

I would declare myself a self care queen but babe writing this, I just had a massive argument w my friend, that made me sad ( oh im a cry baby too, thats even the title of my EP lol), I hate conflict but im really trying so hard to stand up for myself and understand that my feelings are valid too and that uncomfortable situations are growing pains for our souls. I had my first panic attack in ages because this year is just shit and things that I’ve worked on for so long just crumbled down in front of me and I just felt like I was again taking two steps forward and one step back but at least we are moving.

Im not all sad, I’ve rightfully so have had a few bad 72 hours I would say, I don’t like this time of the year that much. But I know why, because I've been slacking w my routines, the ones we´ve carefully selected through trial and error inna real life and w my therapist ( she's real too but you get what im sayin) , it's ok not to be ok either but we have to put some kind of time limit on it so we don't sink into that deep hole again, i don't wanna go back there and I know what keeps me with my head above water and sometimes even frkn flying. We wanna stay consistent w the flying, that feels good, that's a goal now ok? Cause I used to fall into that trap of the deep hole until the pain of the known got far greater than the fear of the unknown.

Im happy we are here today, because as I said 10/90, nothing last forever, good or bad, which is comforting. Things will get better and we hold so much more power in our minds and souls than we realize that ultimately will mirror how we experience life. So im going to be on here, at least once a week, my therapist tells me not to set up crazy goals that I know I might not do because then it will make me feel shit etc so once a week feels reasonable.

Im open to suggestions about what we can chat about, ill share my 10/90, I want my clever friends to maybe drop a quote or blog here and there, Im good on camera, like vlogs or some shit. I probably wont bring you around all the time cause I don’t have the technological brain cells for that to be very honest with you. Maybe ill just come up with cute formats to the camera, thats a word you are going to hear a lot, ”format”, I have a concierge business w my friend Amy on the side of my music career called ” Pure Intuition”, basically we create events, formats and campaigns for brands and make them come true with the right profile etc and we create FORMATS, but if you missed it or if I was unclear Im a super cool singer signed to Columbia UK which was my childhood dream, so we are going to make Columbia our BITCH in 2021 hihi <3 <3. I studied economic entrepreneurship in college and im very business savvy, I love creating formats lol. Im slowly but surely building my fempire. What else, boys, I like boys, men, cute ” god spent some extra time on you”- looking boys, I mean men. I guess we will touch on that in the most anonymous manner, maybe ill just share some past flings cause you know, they’re in the past, passé. So yeah who the fuck is this bitch? you will find out alongside me, myself and I

get ready for the ride

love and light,

badbitchwhomeditates

#badbitch #spiritual development #self improvement #selfcare #main character #music #singer #aestheitcs

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the-fiction-witch · 5 years

Text

I Promise...

REAL LIFE COUPLE ASA X READER RATING FLIRTY

I passed, and passed and passed until it broke me and I grabbed my phone ringing the stupid boy

"Hey y/n? What's up?" Asa asks sounding confused and sleepy

"Are you busy?" I asked quickly

"Uuuuuhhh...." He says clearly moving around "not particularly why?"

"Want me to come there or you come here?" I ask

"Uhh I'll come there sure" he smiled

"Good five minutes, it's important" I told him before hanging up I finished up getting dressed and sorting out my living room when there was a knock on my door "finally!" I complain opening my door grabbing his dark blue hoodie and pulling the skinny brunette into my house

"Ahh! Y/n! What's so dam important?" He complained as I shut and locked my door

"Tea?" I ask

"You wake me. on a Sunday. In the pouring mid October rain. On the coldest Day in months. March me to your house. five miles away. When the underground is not working. Literally drag me inside your house. For a cup of fucking tea?" He asks

"No, do you want tea while we discuss?" I ask

"Maybe I would I knew what we we're discussing" he says

"Park your ass Asa" I tell him pointing to my sofa he sighed going and sitting on my sofa rubbing his eyes a little I smile as I made tea looking at him, sat on his normal side of my sofa, his dark almost black hair a fuzzy mess a recent shoot or so he says I rather liked it this way honestly, his white shirt with some game logo on it and his blue hoodie over the top, his faded jeans hugging his legs snuggly as I brought him his cup and sat beside him he took a sip and put the mug on my table

"So? What did you want?" He asks

"I want to talk to you about something" I said and I could see the panic in his face and the blood drain from his cheeks

"About what?" He asks

"About last weekend." I said

"Last weekend? The premier? What about it did something happen?" He asked very worried

"It's not that Asa... Look, I'm not sure you taking me to these things is a good idea" I said

"Why not? You always come with me" he smiled "y/n you've been my best friend since we where five, what's going on?" He asks

"I'm just not sure I really wanna go anymore" I said

"Well why? There must be a reason y/n, is it the fans? The media? The pr people? What is it? Why don't you want to do it anymore?" He asks getting annoyed and my lack of Answers

"I'm jealous okay!" I yelled

"Jealous? Of what?" He asked I didn't answer "the fan girls?" He asked and I didn't answer "the attention?" He asked and I still didn't answer "then what?" He asked

"Movie girls" I said

"Movie girls?" He asked very confused nowhere near awake enough for my witch riddles "so girls in the movies? In the movie premieres I take you too? Uhhh why?" He asked and i didn't answer I just looked at the floor not even wanting to make eye contact with those blue orbs but he pulled me closer forcing me to look "y/n... Are you jealous of girls I have romantic relationships with in movies?" He asks

"Well you can't deny it happens alot asa!" I complain "miss peragrin, space between us, time freak, me before you, sex education, I swear it's in your fucking contact you get to snog a hot girl every time"

"Your jealous I get to snog hot girls in my movies?" He asked and i sighed my god I love the boy but he can be so dam dence "wait a minute..." He said thinking more "Your jealous of the girls, in my movie's getting to kiss me?" He asked and I felt my cheeks going red "aaawwww, that's adorable" he smiled hugging me tightly

"It's not adorable" I whine trying to move away getting up trying to escape to the kitchen

"No, no, no, it is, it's so cute" he laughs but u just tried going away more but he trapped me between himself and the kitchen counter "how long have you been jealous?" He asks

"A while" I blushed avoiding his eyes

"A while? Did someone... have a little crush?" He asked

"No I did not!" I complain trying to get away but I was well trapped

"Shame" he sighed

"How so?" I asked

"I assumed you knew y/n, I've had a crush on you for forever" he blushed

"For forever?" I asked

"For forever and ever sweetheart" he smiled giving my forehead a soft kiss "but if you don't I suppose I'll just-" he began

"Your an ass Asa" I giggled hugging him close and he hugged me tightly to resting his head on mine his arms around my chest and the small of my back lightly moving us slightly in our snuggly cuddle

"Maybe so, but y/n... I understand if you don't wanna go to some premiers with me I understand sweetheart. But I'll happily distract you when there's kissing scenes" he laughs kissing my head "I want you to come with me, because... I really do like you y/n,"

"I like you too asa" I giggled

"Plus your honest with me, you tell me when I look like a dick" he laughs

"I do" I giggled going to go but he wouldn't let me go just moving away enough to see my face stroking my cheek with his soft fingers

"Y/n, I really do like you, and... I'd want to be your boyfriend if you'd have me. If you do, I promise you no matter what a script says I have to do with a girl, I'll always be yours, and I'll always come home to you as in love as when I left sweetheart" he smiled....

'bring, bring, bring' the alarm sound bleeps hurting my head, my brain, my ears, my soul! I opened my eyes slowly and regrettably the world was dark, nothing but the light from the digital alarm clock on the bedside table flashing it's white and blue lights at me making the ungodly noise

5:37

Why does this hour exist!

I felt a groan behind me and the arm that was snuggled around my waist moved to hit the stupid things button to make the noise stop I instantly relaxed, feeling the cosy fresh sheets against my body the fluffy blanket on the duvet brushing against my arm, my cosy PJ's hugging me close as well as the soft skinny arms wrapped around my waist and the head nuzzled into my neck hair brushing my ear and his body spooning my own I groaned sleeping falling back into my deep, sweet, dreamy-

"Ahhhhhh!" I complain

"Uhhhh! Fucking hell!" Asa complained as every dam light in the trailer came on I pulled the duvet over my head hoping it would save me from the harsh twelve sixty watt bulbs of light threatening my eyes

"Wakey wakey, love birds!" A voice smiled

"Uhhhh bugger off five more minutes" Asa groaned trying to get his grip on me again

"Now! Else I am dragging you in that set for seven am on the dot even if you are in your underpants Mr Butterfield" the voice said before the door closed he sighed sitting up in bed but I wouldn't come out

"Y/n... Sweetheart? Don't I get a kiss before I need to get ready?" He asks

"No, to sleepy" I whine

"Aww sweetheart come on come here just one little kiss?" He pleads pulling the duvet away from me revealing his hair Inna messy bed head his chest exposed he smiled his half awake smile at me and gave my nose a kiss so I gave his cheek a kiss making him smile getting up from our little bed, I sat up having a huge stretch and a yawn "n'aww sleepy sweetie" he smiled as he stood by the end of the bed digging thought his suitcase for his joggers and a good shirt to wear today, the carpet was that boring light beige that we had already made messy just by walking on it, the walls white with the little windows and all the blinds closed I giggled watching Asa get dressed for work, this was technically a closed set but Asa snuck me in, so long as I promised not to have my phone on and not to go to the actual shooting sites on set while I was here which I was okay with more time in bed or craft services "are you watching me?" He asks and I nod "why?"

"Your a nice show to watch in the morning" I smiled

"Am I? Your such a silly girl" he laughs kissing my head as he slipped his shirt on

"What are you up to today?" I ask

"That's secret sweetheart you know that" he laughs

"I'm just curious Asa" i giggled

"Well, it's a secret." He laughs

"You promise you'll come home?" I whined

"Of course I will, you know I will." He smiled sitting on the bed with me "I promise, I'll come back home to you my sweetheart." He smiled before grabbing his stuff "don't wait up" he winked

"I won't" I laughed cuddling his pillow as he left for set.

#asa #asa butterfield #asa butterfeild #asa butterfeild smut #asa butterfeild imagine #asa butterfeild imagines #asa imagine #asa sweet #asa smut #asabutterfeild #asa bopp

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tisfan · 5 years

Text

Title: Learning to Work Together (Opposites Attract) Rating: T Triggers/warnings: None Word count: 4681 Tags: Alternate Universe: College/University, Alternate Universe: No Powers, Summary: When Professor Nutter assigns a partnered project for her Theories of Personality class, Aziraphale finds himself tracking down the mysterious and elusive Crowley. Posted for the @ineffablehusbandsbingo - square “Destruction of Books” ( @27dragons) / square “Food Fight” ( @tisfan) Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20579354

Professor Nutter stood up behind her podium, smiling in that vicious little way of hers that meant she was about to unleash something terrible. The collective mood of the students dropped as she held up a piece of paper. “There is a copy of this handout on the back table,” she said, gleeful. “I’ve matched you up for a group project, based on your questionnaires at the start of term. There will be no swapping partners, you will learn to work together, or you will not pass my class--” the group let out a groan, as one, like a forest of dying trees. “And complete the assignment. You will turn this in the last day of class before exams for thirty percent of your final grade. It was in the syllabus!”

Theories of Personality, psychology 405, had been billed as an easy A class. Be present, participate, pass.

The teacher last semester, Pulsifer, had given out sixty A’s, the highest percentage of any upper level class on campus.

That was last semester, apparently.

Nutter was… well, a Nutter.

(more below the cut)

Aziraphale stayed in his seat as the rest of the class made their way to the back of the class. Surely, whoever’d been assigned to work with him would make themselves known. And he really wanted to finish reading the chapter he’d started. Fascinating stuff, really, even if some of it was a bit, well, medieval in thinking.

He jotted a few notes as he read -- things to look up or cross-reference, things to specifically ask about during class, in case they were part of the exam, possible starting points for the project...

Speaking of which-- Aziraphale looked around. The class had emptied. No one had come up to him to introduce themselves as his partner. Sighing, Aziraphale tucked a marker into his textbook, gathered up his things, and went to look at the pairing sheet. He scanned down the list and found his name, right beside... A. J. Crowley.

Who in Hell was that?

He looked over the list again. He recognized all the names on it. Everyone had spoken up in class discussions, or asked questions, or (on a few occasions) been chided by Professor Nutter for being late. He could swear he’d never heard the name Crowley before.

“Er, Professor,” Aziraphale said cautiously. “Are you quite certain you didn’t mix someone from one of your other classes in here? Because--” He turned around to find that Professor Nutter was gone.

Blast. He was going to have to track this Crowley fellow down.

“Why I always gotta work wiff you?” someone demanded, just outside the door. Ligur was scowling at the sheet, and his apparent partner, Hastur, was smirking. “Always make me do all th’ work, you do.”

Well. At least Aziraphale hadn’t been partnered with Hastur. Aziraphale didn’t like to complain, but Hastur smelled. “Excuse me, gents,” he said, edging past them into the hallway. “Neither of you would happen to know who A. J. Crowley is, would you?”

“Uff, Crowley,” Hastur said. “I hate that flash bastard. Don’t trust him.”

“Yeah,” Ligur said. “He’s inna Hell-dorm. Cross th’ hall from Beez. You know Beez, right? Everyone knows Beez.”

Hell-dorm wasn’t actually called that, officially; the building was named after whichever alum had donated the most money in the last few years or so, which meant it had been rechristened about a dozen times, and no one bothered to remember what it was actually called. Everyone called it Hell because the air conditioning didn’t work in the summer, and worked all too well in the winter.

And, unfortunately, Aziraphale did know Beez, though luckily, by reputation only. Still, he imagined it wouldn’t be too hard to find. “Thank you,” he said, though he wasn’t sure they heard it -- they were already back to bickering about the project.

Aziraphale checked the time and decided there was no time like the present. He straightened his clothes and made his way across the campus to Hell-dorm, where a few inquiries of increasingly surly residents got him the direction to the floor where Beez lived.

Once there, it wasn’t hard to spot the door with “BEEZ” written on it -- not on a whiteboard or tacked-up sign, but directly on the door itself, in what Aziraphale was fairly certain was permanent marker. Below that, in a startlingly elegant hand, someone had written, Abandon all hope, ye who enter here.

The opposite door was unmarred. And unlabeled. No board, no notes, no posted schedule, no name, no decor, no posters in questionable taste. Nothing, no hint as to the character of the person within. Just a door.

Well. There was nothing for it, really. Aziraphale brushed a few wrinkles out of his sweater and knocked smartly.

For a long moment, there was no sound at all, and then-- thud, whump -- someone rolled off the bed and hit the floor like a load of wet laundry. A groan. And then more silence.

“Hello?” Aziraphale said. He rapped on the door again. “I’m looking for someone named A. J. Crowley?”

Another groan, then someone yelled, somewhat slurred, “go away, Beez, tol’ you I’m not lending you any money.”

The door opened suddenly and Aziraphale blinked at what was a very… green room behind the man. “You’re not Beez,” he said. “In fact, I don’t think I’ve seen anyone quite so very un-Beezlike in my entire life. What do you want, angel?”

“What?” Aziraphale looked around, but the hallway behind him was entirely deserted. “Are you Crowley?”

“Who’s asking?” Crowley, if that was Crowley, was tall and lanky, dressed all in black except for a shock of red hair. He wore sunglasses, little round, deeply black ones that didn’t show a hint of his eyes, and he had cheekbones sharp enough to cut paper. He stood in a way that reminded Aziraphale -- in no way that he could actually put words to -- of a snake.

“Oh, yes, quite,” Aziraphale stammered. He shuffled the books in his arms around until he could offer a hand. “Aziraphale. I’m your partner for the project for Professor Nutter’s class.”

Crowley actually lowered his sunglasses to peer at Aziraphale over the rims. His eyes were a shade of brown so pale they could be deemed yellow instead. “What? Agnes gave us partners for a project?” He said this in a deeply aggrieved voice. “What project, oh, bother, you’d better come in then.”

Aziraphale was not, perhaps, the most fastidious student on campus, but his room was at least clean.

Crowley’s room, on the other hand, was spotless. Pristine. Dustless. And filled from the floor to the rafters with thick, luxurious plant-life, living in beautiful, matching pots. There were custom lighting tracks set up to give the plants everything they needed in the way of sunlight, and the whole room smelled of sweet earth and green, growing things.

Crowley grabbed an apple from a fruit bowl on a side table and took a bite. “Apple?” he offered the bowl to Aziraphale.

“Oh, thank you,” Aziraphale said, pleased. Breakfast seemed like a distant memory by this point in the morning. A little nosh would be just the thing. He picked out one of the fruits, heavy with juice and lusciously dark red. “This really is something,” he said, gesturing at all the plants. “Simply lovely. Quite the green thumb you must have.” He bent close to examine the flower buds on the nearest specimen.

“I talk to them,” Crowley said. “They don’t like to disappoint me. What’s this nonsense, then, about a project? Agnes really gave me a project? She loves me, why would she do that?”

“I can’t see how she’d have any opinion about you at all,” Aziraphale said, rather tartly, “as I’m quite certain you’ve not been to a single class all semester.” He certainly would have remembered seeing someone as striking as Crowley before. “Have you even cracked the book?”

“Which one?” Crowley asked. He was slinking around the room, examining all his plants and checking the moisture levels of the soil. “Hand me my mister, would you, angel?”

Aziraphale looked around and spotted the mister, though he had to put his stack of books down in order to have a hand free for it. He dropped them on what he presumed was Crowley’s bed, then handed over the mister. “Prophecy of Personality,” he said, waving at it where it was on top of his stack. “The textbook. For the class you haven’t been attending!”

“Oh, that book,” Crowley said. “Yeah, uh, I think I might have burned it.”

“You what?” Aziraphale screeched. He snatched his books back up off Crowley’s bed, dropping the apple to clutch them close lest this apparent demon start setting fire to them, too.

“It was, you know, a dorm-thing,” Crowley said. “Beez’s idea. We had a big bonfire and, well, there was quite a lot of wine involved. Truly, epic amounts of wine.” Crowley waved his hand around aimlessly, like someone had replaced all the bones in his wrist with overcooked pasta. “I don’t really remember.”

“Your dorm had a book burning and you don’t really remember?” Azirpahale demanded. He looked around, somewhat wildly. He couldn’t stay in this place, in this hell, for one second longer. He pulled the project handout out of the book and shoved it at Crowley. “Here. This is the project. Read it. And then come to my room -- I’m in Heaven dorm -- this afternoon, at four.”

“Of course you are,” Crowley drawled. “Am I allowed… I mean, inviting me to your room, that’s very forward.”

“To work on the project,” Aziraphale snapped, feeling heat climbing up under his collar. “Unless you’d rather meet at the library.”

“No, no, the library is for people who are worried about their grades,” Crowley said. “I wouldn’t be caught dead at the library. Your room. Four o’clock. I’ll bring take away. Unless I fall asleep.”

Aziraphale scowled and gathered his things back up. “Don’t,” he said icily, “fall asleep.”

***

Crowley watched, somewhat stunned, as the ethereal figure scrambled for the door, leaving the room in a cloud of stern disapproval.

“Well, that went over like a lead balloon,” he said, rubbing at his face. He flipped the project assignment sheet over a few times and read it. Nothing on the hand out indicated that Professor Nutter was a complete lunatic, brought in at the last minute to replace Professor Pulsifer, who had, indeed, been cheating on his wife, the Dean of Student Affairs, and who had made a hasty escape from the collegiate life and his marital strife by moving with his mistress to Surrey. Or that Nutter had made it her personal goal to make Crowley have to actually do some work.

Didn’t make either of those things less true, mind.

What it did say was that they’d have to do several sets of interviews with student volunteers, to test their hypothesis about personality cues. And then write up a monograph for it. Ug.

The apple that Aziraphale hadn’t eaten was laying on the floor, bright and shiny, and bruised on one side from where he’d dropped it. Crowley bent to pick it up. “What are you lookin’ at?” he accused his plants.

He eyed the apple for a long moment, the very faint imprints of Aziraphale’s teeth where they’d just started to pierce the skin.

Crowley took a bite, right there. Guess he’d go up to Heaven ‘round four and see what all the fuss was about.

But first. Nap. Mornings were, he decided, some sort of Divinely inspired curse, and should be outlawed almost immediately, if not sooner. He fell back into bed and got up a few hours later, much more coherent and refreshed.

Contrary to Aziraphale’s belief, Crowley had attended every single one of Agnes Nutter’s classes. He just did it in the afternoon instead. She taught the same material at both classes, and it wasn’t difficult to slouch around in the back and catch up on the notes. He’d sit the test at the proper time, but the less Crowley had to be awake in the morning, the happier everyone was going to be.

He placed an order by telephone with the curry-shop just off campus, gathered his notes from class -- he did not, however, grab his copy of the book, which was not burned, but then he couldn’t remember which of his class texts had been deposited on the blaze, but there was no point in giving Aziraphale the satisfaction -- and headed over to Heaven.

There was something more than a little sterile and creepy about Heaven dorm, with its white paint and chrome accents. It looked like a hospital. Or a morgue. Cold and crisp and utterly devoid of sentiment.

“Oi,” Crowley barked at one of the students in the front lounge. “Where’s Aziraphale?”

They looked up, patted perfectly coiffed hair as if to smooth fly aways that weren’t there. Michael. Great. Crowley had swimming class with Michael. Fastidious git. “Down the hall.”

“Thanks. Michael. Dude,” Crowley said, giving Michael finger guns. Michael hated being called dude.

Crowley shifted his burdens, getting the curry out front. A peace offering, of sorts. Walked down the hall and, after frowning at the door, kicked it a few times.

The door opened a moment later to reveal Aziraphale, scowling. A scowl shouldn’t look so adorable on anyone, but there it was. Utterly adorable. “You needn’t bang when a simple knock would-- Oh.” He hesitated, seeing how full Crowley’s arms were. “Well, I suppose it couldn’t have been helped.” He stepped aside, waving Crowley in.

Aziraphale’s room wasn’t empty and sterile like the halls of Heaven. It was filled, top to bottom and side to side, with books. Every sort of book, at every possible age. Crowley wouldn’t have been surprised to find a set of scrolls in there, somewhere, tucked behind the dimestore paperbacks, perhaps. Even the bed was covered with books.

Aziraphale took the containers of curry from Crowley’s hands and then looked around, frowning slightly as he tried to figure out where to set it down. He finally shuffled a few stacks around to make a space on what was, probably, a table or a desk of some sort. “There we are.”

Crowley twitched as Aziraphale came closer. “Are you wearing cologne?” What sort of student was this guy, dressed in pristine, cream colored slacks, wingtip shoes, an embroidered vest, with a blessed pocket watch chain curving neatly across a soft belly.

“Well, yes,” Aziraphale said, in a tone that suggested Crowley was the odd one for even asking. “It’s new, actually. My barber recommended it.”

He couldn’t quite resist, most students smelled like stale food and forgotten antiperspirant and cheap scented spritzers. He leaned in, nose going a few inches from Aziraphale’s throat. “Nice,” he growled. “I’ll take two.” He wasn’t even quite sure if he meant two bottles of cologne, or two of Aziraphale.

Aziraphale backed up half a step, eyes widening a little. “Ah, yes, well,” he stammered, a faint blush rising out of his collar. “Perhaps we’d better get on with the project.”

“Food first,” Crowley countered, “dont’ want to get sauce on your books. Read through th’ notes today--” He opened the take away box, looked down at his bowl of curry and rice and sauce and shoveled a mouthful before going on to suggest a handful of potential project topics.

Aziraphale huffed a little and produced from somewhere a pair of napkins. Not the paper napkins that had come with the takeaway, but actual cloth napkins. He handed one to Crowley with a somewhat stern look, then spread the other across his lap before picking up the second box.

“Oh!” he said, suddenly delighted, a smile blooming on his face that was as bright as the sun. “My favorite! How did you guess?” He picked up the fork and scooped up a bite, somehow managing to avoid dripping curry sauce anywhere and putting it into his mouth without getting any on his lips. It was a damned miracle, that was. He still picked up his napkin and blotted his mouth as he chewed. “This is quite good,” he said. “Where did you get it?”

There were words out there. Words, nouns, verbs, adjectives. Punctuation, sometimes, even. All of them vacated Crowley’s head and went swirling off to Alpha Centauri. He couldn’t have put a coherent sentence together if someone’d held a sword to his throat. He could only stare and watch and deal with a squirmy, heated knot of something in his belly, rather lower than his navel, and might not even count as his stomach at all.

The flittering little shy glances, the way Aziraphale’s whole face radiated joy and pleasure and appreciation.

All for a bowl of take away curry.

“Uh…” Crowley managed. He gestured, hand spread, out there somewhere.

Aziraphale’s smile dimmed just a little, just enough to no longer be blinding. “Oh, yes, sorry, I shouldn’t ask questions while you’re trying to eat.” He took another dainty bite of his own. “So, for our project, I was thinking we--”

“Card! On th’ bag,” Crowley burst, struggling to find a few words. “The curry cart. Good place, my favorite.” He cupped one hand under his bowl, balancing it neatly while he bent backward from his chair to snag the paper bag from the trash.

“Do be careful,” Aziraphale said. “I’d hate for you to fall and hurt yourself.” He took the bag as Crowley handed it over, though, and examined the card stapled to the top. “Lovely,” he pronounced it. “We’ll have to try it again, find out what’s best.”

Crowley sat up, brushing rice off his shirt. “I don’t fall, I just sort of… saunter vaguely downward.” That something in his belly was twisting itself up in knots. We. Again. He didn’t think there were more lovely words in the entire universe. “Whatever you like, angel. Anywhere you want to go.”

Aziraphale shifted a little in his seat. “Yes, well. As I was saying, about the project--”

Someone knocked on the door and then it opened to reveal a slightly older student, immaculately groomed and wearing -- was that a bespoke jacket? “Just a routine check,” he said. “I heard voices.”

“Ah, Gabriel,” Aziraphale said. “Yes, this is Crowley, my partner for Professor Nutter’s class. I imagine he’ll be around quite a bit for the rest of the semester.” He gave Crowley a tight, thin-lipped smile. “Gabriel is our R.A.”

Crowley could almost feel all the synapses in his brain going off at once. “You’re Gabriel? Oh, that’s… heard about you, mate. All good things.” Of course. Literally anyone who lived on Hell’s third circle knew about Gabriel. Beez had… well, Crowley couldn’t decide if it was a thing for Gabriel romantically, or a thing for Gabriel like wanting to cut his head off and stick it on a pig pole. Somehow, Crowley had pictured someone who was… less of a prissy little bastard, though.

“Well of course they’re all good things,” Gabriel said with a self-assured smile. He looked them over. “Is that curry? From off campus?”

“Nothing against the rules in that,” Aziraphale said.

“Perhaps not, but I wouldn’t want to soil my vessel with it,” Gabriel said disapprovingly.

“Your body is a temple, we can tell,” Crowley said, insincere and dripping with it. “Shoo, bzzz. We have work to do.” He waved one hand around, nearly knocking over a book. “We’re all fine here, surely you have the whole rest of the dorm to watch over.”

“Yes, quite,” Gabriel said, entirely missing Crowley’s sarcasm. “I’ll look in again later!” He waved and backed out of the room again.

Aziraphale sighed. “He means well, I’m sure.”

Means well? Means well? That was utter bollocks. “No, he means to be flaunting his authority.” He stretched the word out obscenely. Author-a-taaaaai.

“Well, better Gabriel than getting Her involved,” Aziraphale said, pointing upwards with a meaningful lift of the eyebrows. “You know. The dorm monitor.”

“I’m not entirely certain She exists,” Crowley muttered. “So, angel. Project. Let’s do this.” He scraped the last bit of his curry out of his bowl, tossed the bowl in the trash, and then his jacket in the other direction, landing neatly on a pile of books -- there was nowhere else for things to go, why on earth did Aziraphale need so many books. Surely he couldn’t possibly have read them all.

“Yes, let’s,” Aziraphale said, looking pleased again. He reached into a pile of books and brought out the class textbook, from which he withdrew a folded copy of the syllabus. “We’ll need to choose our subject group, and then our set of cues to interview for. Or perhaps we should do them in the other order.”

Crowley discovered another good side effect to having no text; he was constantly having to read over Aziraphale’s shoulder, or nudge him into pushing the book across both of their laps. He didn’t think he’d ever been quite so pleased to be part of a group project before. Aziraphale had really gorgeous handwriting, too, taking notes on their project so that Crowley didn’t have to.

His phone alarm chirped somewhat after seven and he hadn’t even realized that he’d been there for three hours. “Need t’ grab a bite to eat before my last class,” Crowley apologized. Then, as if it had just occurred to him, “want to have dinner with me?”

“Oh, that would be simply divine,” Aziraphale agreed brightly. “Where shall we go?”

“Just the commons,” Crowley said, trying not to wince as Aziraphale’s smile flattened a bit. “Can’t eat off campus all the time, otherwise, what’s a meal plan for? Besides, I have t’ run to astronomy, right after.”

“I suppose that’s true,” Aziraphael allowed. “Astronomy sounds interesting, at least.” He packed up his books. There was an ink smudge on the side of his face that was entirely too cute. “Very well, let us go and see what’s on offer that’s least likely to give us indigestion.”

They made an odd pair, strolling across campus. At least Crowley noticed more than half the student body turned to watch them pass. He wondered how he’d never seen Aziraphale before, the man had an aura about him that was like a gravity well made of light.

Crowley was not a gourmand of any sort; he liked fizzy drinks and greasy take-away, when he remembered to eat at all and not just talk through the entire meal to whoever happened to sit at his table.

And it was his table. He barely raised an eyebrow when the chattering female students who’d clumped there scattered like startled ducks. “Mister Crowley,” one of them exclaimed as he dumped his tray in front of where she’d been sitting and then waited until she vacated the spot.

“Sit down, angel, take a load off, those books look like they weigh as much as you do,” Crowley teased.

“Oh, hardly that much,” Aziraphale said, but he set his books down. “You didn’t have to run them off; we could have found somewhere else to sit.”

“Well, I didn’t have to, no, but it’s so much fun. And this is my spot,” Crowley said, sprawling on the bench. “Right here, my initials…” He traced his thumb over the groove in the wood, the pale color against the dark patina of age on the bench. “A. J. Crowley.”

Aziraphale looked slightly scandalized, but he reached over to rub the carving thoughtfully. “What does the A. J. stand for?”

“Anthony,” Crowley said. “The J’s… just a J. You know, it’s a thing.”

Crowley picked at his food, eating the tips off his chips, leaving the mushy middles on the plate. Took the crust off the top of his steak and kidney pie and sorted through the resulting mess trying to figure out if there was anything in there that had once even vaguely been near a cow.

Aziraphale picked at his dinner just as listlessly, though he’d managed to snag some fruit that looked half-decent, and he made consideringly pleased hums around his pudding. “So, astronomy, then? Is that your major?”

“Yeah,” Crowley said. “I like the stars. Beautiful nebulas. Makes all this--” he waved a hand around, indicating the commons, the college, the country, the whole miserable planet. “--seem a little unimportant. Which is the only thing that gets me through conversations with my mother.”

“Stars are nice,” Aziraphale said, somewhat diffidently. “I prefer literature, myself. All the different ways we have to express an idea or a feeling -- it’s fascinating!”

Crowley was just getting ready to launch into his favorite topic, how the entire universe had formed and that, however unlikely, it had made such a delightful person as the one sitting across the table from him, when-- ooff, something hit him, nearly knocking him out of his chair, more from surprise than anything else.

Another squishy thud and Aziraphale’s cream coloured jacket suddenly had a big, blue stain on it.

He looked over his shoulder at the stain in swiftly increasing dismay. “That’s not coming out,” he said, pouting. “My favorite coat! It’s ruined!”

Crowley reached over and ran a finger through the stain. “Blueberry pie,” he confirmed, then glanced around the room. He loaded a mushroom, some gravy and a bit of pie crust onto his fork and-- there. Davis, the economics major, talking in a low, conspiratorial voice with some of his fellows. “This is about to get nasty,” he predicted, and then launched the forkful of pie directly at Davis’s hair.

“Oh dear,” Aziraphale said. He picked up his tray and held it up like a shield. “This is so juvenile, really!”

“That’s what makes it fun,” Crowley said, ducking a poorly aimed bit of baked cod. “Oh, look, it’s your R.A.”

“What, where?” Aziraphale peeked over the rim of the tray. He spotted Gabriel just as the R.A. took an entire soft-serve ice cream cone to the face. Aziraphale coughed out a laugh and then quickly covered his mouth with his hand, his eyes still dancing.

A quick scan of the room, and he found Beez and their group of hangers-on. “Get ready to run, angel,” Crowley said. He moved, quick, lithe, and stealthy, snuck the bowl of treacle pudding from Beez’s table while they were occupied looking at something else and launched it at Gabriel, before flattening himself on the floor to crawl back over to Aziraphale.

“This way!” Aziraphale said, pointing. “We can sneak out the staff entrance!” He gestured for Crowley to go first and followed, holding that tray over Crowley’s head for protection.

They made it to the door, dodged around a confused caretaker, and found themselves outside in the courtyard, Crowley laughing so hard it was difficult to stay upright. “Well, that was exciting,” Crowley said, practically hanging off Aziraphale like a scarf.

Aziraphale was laughing, too, in that restrained sort of way that meant he was trying not to. “The looks on their faces,” he gasped. “Oh, that was wicked. We shouldn’t have done that.” He didn’t try to distance himself from Crowley, however.

“Of course we shouldn’t’ve,” Crowley said. “That’s what makes it delightful. Here, give me that--” He held out his hand. “Your coat. I’ll get it cleaned.” If nothing else, it would give him another excuse to visit, something not schoolwork-related.

“Really?” Aziraphale beamed up at him. “Thank you.” He shucked the coat and carefully folded it stain-inward before handing it carefully over. “Well. Delightful as that was, I believe you have class. And I have homework to attend to.”

“Sure,” Crowley said. “I’ll… see you around.” He watched as Aziraphale walked away, looking somehow even more delicious in his light blue shirt and the silken back of his vest displayed. It was… charming and adorable and… “Bugger,” Crowley said. “I’m in trouble.” He brought the jacket up to his nose, inhaling the scent of Aziraphale’s cologne. He was… desperately in trouble. And not just because he was going to be late for class.

#ineffablehusbands bingo #Good Omens #crowley x aziraphale #university AU

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t-underneaththeradardancing · 5 years

Text

imma sure theres a moon - that kinda day - now imma look - yes about where in the sky expected - big and waning

so housecleaning - way more than usual and had help - and a bit more than fuck all but not much music - some discussion and play along to a liam song and finally get it - i dont know wat threw me b4 - pretty sure my fingers remember enuff - we tawking a year now - wait i think i wrote about this or a msg text or email - so many texts imma tired and havent had much napping - it dont fit w my rawk star image even tho imma bad ass napper yo - ru u laffing i fuckin hope so cuz it would make me sad if u think this is whyning

we r laffing again now - tentative may not full blown hilarity verging on - yah go t sez it it rhymes buster - insanity - inanity is better yah - inanity - tho we all have breakdown once and again still we aint broken - wounded scarred as fuck yah - maybe always healing but ffs healing

then again tomorrow - i cant explain w o tmi and messy and no gain from anyway knowing - many different winning outcomes possible - so ez to fuck up in the telling and interpretation even when in love ur acting as best u know how to - im a bystander no say in outcome even tho it affects me a wild card i saw coming long time awready played it down to waiting

im ok - got over myself enuff to quit being a dick at least - thats something - aint it

its late - nap a possibility manana maybe - a little fear inna mix tho gonna trust love cuz - yah wats the choices

if i hafta pick up pieces - i dont like that metaphor - if soft soothe comfort a hand to help lift a kind word and all that comes after - is needed i b there somehow - if it delays the bizness so be it - its only $ - our goal is to b non profit anyway at least a large part - we already talking a spin off in terms of time and duties if theres any real cash flow - hey we did have about $70 income in our almost 1st full month of operation - we havent even finalized a name yet - tho at last months rate of cash burn we got 10 weeks left lol or is it months nope week t - i pull the reins in a little but mostly justified - theres artist kids working feverish hoping for a sale - yah we gotta feed them and sometimes keep it on the down low cuz its late and liams parents are amazingly tolerant but strange street kids at all hours - uh no - but sometimes cuz they understand the nature of a rock and roll life - if its kids known and trusted - and the workspac more soundproof daily - fuck imma in a band , sometimes back up not to mention them backing me up - with 2 teenagers - i mean they live at home ffs - and that is the least of our fucking problems but we wont go there - not tonights its too late - oh yah and we doin a start up bizness goodness gracious - its going nothing like imagined but they never -

im alive - they also - tbh its a bit of a miracle cuz death dont like dare to often or being cheated - yah we all gonna die so death shouldnt b so damn impatient - wats another decade more or more (for the kidz - 1 more decade me i think b plenty - cinder b advance aging - unpoet will grieve but get on and its unlikely i outlive her - the kidz b adulting - my nephews nieces should b ok cared for enuff to make their life work at least have a chance and a safety net - i could die tomorrow happy - im doing wat im meant to on many fronts and mind dimensions - the smooth path is usually boring

sciatic pain transforming - acupuncture sez my mind processing all stimuli on lower right side as pain itching or numbness - many x all 3 - some is side efx from meds - still much improvement - despite hurting like a mf right this moment - its been a long day in a string and hard ones - basically the last 2 months have been hard as fuckon all 3

just thinking - theres so many pleas on tumblr - begging ppl thinking suicidal thoughts or further to consider the devastation to their loved ones

this whole dark period started with the suicide death of a teenager (rest in peace from torment child ) - someone im not sure if i ever met - but only 1 ripple removed from - another stone turned pebble by erosion -tossed into the pond another ripple

fed and talked w crows - and a birb - someone sitting under my tree when out - ok it 130 still dishes

later

love

#poetry i guess

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powerovernothing · 7 years

Note

Different anon here: because I'm lame I crack myself up thinking of an au where yondu survives and travels with the guardians, getting to know them and slowly becoming more and mores done with his sons weird taste in friends.

Oh my, isn’t this a rare treat, and something that completely puts a massive smile on my face! To go from writing a super fun meta for one nice Anon based around our local space dad…and then to turn around and see that another lovely Anon has wandered into my askbox to discuss more Yondu things?

And not only that, but also share with me an adorable headcanon of him and his son post Vol 2 where everything is good and happy and nothing sad ever happened no matter what James Gunn tries to make us believe?

Oh, I am going to have a fun time with this~

(Lots of Yondad meta and headcanon under the cut, as well as a small drabble where Yondu and Drax get along and embarrass Peter! Prepare for feelings as well as silly things!)

First off, I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. The Guardians of the Galaxy fandom is just absolutely and all around lovely, and they certainly know their way to my heart with really great ideas coming from their really awesome minds!

Honestly, how could you not just adore this fandom and the people within it?!

Ah, but regardless! Hello there different, but equally as great, Yondu Anon! (Or would you rather me call you Yondad!Anon instead? Seems kind of fitting, yeah?) And thank you very much for popping into my askbox! Seeing all these messages from you guys just really makes my days all the more brighter; you just have no idea!

But there I go, getting off track; for shame! Anyway, you said that you make yourself giggle over a scenario where Yondu travels full time with Peter and his Guardian family after the events of the second film, and that he just, slowly but surely, becomes even more done with his son’s very bizarre choice of friends the more and more he gets to know them?

And, on top of everything, you somehow actually consider that idea to be lame?

Oh, but my dear Yondad friend! That is where you are sadly mistaken, because I don’t think that that idea is lame whatsoever! In fact, I think that it’s a very wonderful idea actually! And one that I, too, often think about in terms of post Vol 2 headcanons – be it silly or cute or just somewhere in between!

And actually, reading over your message reminded me of various ideas that me and my friend @packratofdenialism had in regards to Yondu’s relationship with the Guardians. The ones that come to mind first and foremost being that, other than Rocket and Groot, it would probably be Drax that Yondu would end up having the best kind of friendship with, before anyone else in the group.

And why him of all people, you may be wondering, and not someone like Mantis, considering that she is basically in some ways Peters’ adoptive sister, and Yondu has a thing for strays?

Well, honestly, the reasoning behind this is that Yondu and Drax are actually rather similar. Both warriors/killers with their own sense of honor, both fathers in their own right, both pretty bad with emotions, and yet ends up, after a massive tragedy, accepting a new family…as well as various others I’m probably not remembering.

And besides all that, there’s also the fact that both Yondu and Drax have one amazing ice breaker to spark their friendship. And something that would most certainly embarrass the hell out of Peter once he hears them talking about it.

That Drax was one of the first Guardians whom considered Yondu Peter’s father.

And since we’re all about giving out headcanons, and you had such an awesome one messaged to me above – how about I give you one in return? One that will give you all the emotions, possibly silly and heartwarming both?

(Inspired by late night conversations with @packratofdenialism, love ya friend~!)

Because honestly, can you imagine the look on Yondu’s face when Drax pulls him aside and he begins to discuss just how wonderful the relationship that Yondu has with his son is? And how proud he must be to have raised such a grand warrior, or how blessed Yondu should feel to see Peter grow and become a leader of his own crew?

I mean, it’s one thing to say it among friends, and have it be played off as a really big misunderstanding…

As well as have Peter totally deny that Yondu is the dad he’s always wanted, or that he ever called him Dad emotionally after he was saved from space, or how this is something that both father and son are still trying to get used to saying at all…but, dude, that’s only meant to be private sappy bullshit just between them! Not said in mixed company, or aloud, or ever! What the hell, Drax!

But to bring it up again, in a small ship where everyone can hear, and in front of Yondu no less! Peter isn’t sure whether to crawl under the ship’s controls or just smack his head repeatedly into the wall, because he knows well enough that nothing that comes out of this is going to be good, and he’ll probably never live it down…

I mean, just imagine!

“Ah, at long last! I get to go one on one with Quill’s father!” “Sure as hell hope yer not expectin’ the two o’us ta’arm wrest –” He pauses half way through his playful words; realizing slowly just what Drax said. “Wait, whadda’yer sayin’?”“You are indeed the true father of Star Lord? I know that your son tries to deny it with great enthusiasm, but it is surely so plain to see!”

So Peter would just groan aloud, because it was bad enough the first time around but now other members are listening in, and part of him just really hopes that Yondu will cut Drax off with some joke.

And yet, Yondu just smiles. Letting out that very asshole kind of laugh that is hidden with deeper emotion; because it may be slightly embarrassing to be considered Peter’s father by someone – as well as surprising, considering no one is judging him for said feelings…but somehow it just feels right.

“Hah, yeah, ah’guess ya could say ‘dat.”

And at hearing that Yondu isn’t angry, and is possibly going along with it, Peter just pops his head in and glares at them both with a massive blush on his cheeks.

“OH MY GOD YONDU NO. Don’t encourage him, ya stupid ass blueberry! Seriously, man, he’ll never stop at this rate and dude, we’re getting a damn audience here!”

And Drax interjects, because how rude of Peter to call his father a blueberry!

“Do not disrespect your father, Quill!”

And slowly, Yondu just looks over at Peter and sees his flustered look, because he knows that they were never the type for outward or open emotion. But after everything they went through, they could use a little bit of lighthearted teasing, and oh god it’s just so easy!

And he gives him a far too knowing smirk – like yep boy, ya wiggled yerself into dis, now ya gotta deal wit’it.

“Ey, ya heard him, son! Ya go on and treat yer daddy wit’ ‘sum kinda respect!”

And Peter just goes full on blood red, because oh my god Yondu why, and stomps out all the while screaming.

“THAT’S IT. IT’S OFFICIAL. I AM DISOWNING ALL OF YOU.”

Then Drax would look over at Yondu curiously; still hearing Peter squealing down the hallways.

“Is he always such –”

“A big ol’ drama queen? Hell yes. I mean, damn, th’ stories I could tell –”

“Oh! Please share your tales, Udonta! I would be overjoyed to listen!”

Hours later, Peter comes back totally drunk, and being far too done with his new extended family of embarrassing people and dad jokes, and oh my god are those two still at it after all this time? If I turn that corner they better not be exchanging baby pictures, what the hell.

And Yondu is still next to Drax, and he has this massively proud smile on his face. And he’s explaining in detail about the first time that Peter tried to shoot the special blaster that that he had given his boy for his birthday, and how their training session ended with Peter accidentally shooting Yondu in the leg instead of the Yaka Arrow that was meant as the target.

And Drax is just laughing out loud, as he often does when he is happy, and Peter expects Yondu to still be angry because of the accidental maiming that happened all those years ago and yet –

“Boy gave me one helluva scar! Still got it too! And oh damn, was he sheepish! Thinkin’ I was gonna up and whup ‘im for doin’ it. Hell, lookin’ back I probably scared im’ cussa my shouting an’ all…but I was REAL DAMN PROUD!””As one should be! To know that your child holds the courage to take down his target no matter who it may be! That shows true strength!””And even’tho dat shit hurt like hell, I was just thinkin, durin’ his stupid ass apology, how ‘dat trick shot coul’ be used on the field! Git’im all backed inna corner, and hav’im hit his target when ‘dey least expect it?”“Ahaha! Imagine the look on your enemy’s face when they are taken down by such a small and frail child!”“Hell yeah! I mean, I always ‘igured Petey to be sumfin’ special, but after all ‘dat, th boy just kept on surprisin’ me!“

Maybe Peter assumes that half of this conversation is just his drunken mind playing tricks on him, because Yondu was, and is proud of him? And Drax is agreeing? And they’re actually getting along? And it’s not just at Peter’s expense?

Obviously he had one too many.

And yet, the more he continues to listen in secret, the more he sees his old man actually smiling, and sees him getting along with his team, and not having to worry about anything that Ego put on his shoulders, or Ravagers betraying him for daring to care…

And sure, maybe he’s still getting used to all of this; the thought of him having an actual family.

…One that is filled with talking raccoons and green skinned warriors, tiny trees that enjoys his odd taste in music and a blue skinned dad with a flying arrow, as well as a brother that still is loyal even though he doesn’t have to be after what happened with the Ravagers…

Okay, so maybe his family is a seriously weirdass one…but it’s still a family nonetheless. And the more that Peter thinks about it, the more he walks away from the conversation, and finds himself placing in certain earbuds from a certain Zune and playing a certain song to help him deal with his awful hangover…

…He realizes that yeah, embarrassing and mismatched and crazy as it may be, this family is still his – and it just feels right.

There you go, Anon! You gave me the wonderful idea of Yondu getting to know the Guardians and just wondering where he went wrong in Peter’s upbringing because SERIOUSLY SON WHY THESE IDIOTS. And in turn, I gave you an idea where everyone else slowly just becomes totally done with Yondu – mostly Peter, because THE EMBARRASSING STORIES, DAD WHY.

As well as some additional feelings on top of the silliness, because why not?

Thank you so much once more for coming into my askbox and talking Yondad related headcanons with me! I deeply appreciate it, always totally have fun with it, and I surely hope that you enjoyed my little mini fan fiction that I gave you in return! (If anyone wants that posted on it’s own without additional talk, just ask.)

Lots of hugs, hope you have a great day full of joy and fandom feelings, and I hope to see you around soon! Pop back in anytime!

#peter quill #yondu udonta #yondu #drax the destroyer #guardians of the galaxy #Anon~#Ponnie Rambles~#Long Post~#Very Long Post~#I'm really sorry that this ended up taking so long my dear sweet Yondad!Anon friend!#Honestly I just managed to lose track of my writing for a few days and forgot where I wanted this to go #as well as ended up fumbling my words many times to the point where I had to rewrite this twice.#Originally it wasn't going to include the small fan fiction -- but since you waited so long for a reply!#I JUST FIGURED.#WHY NOT.#Why not give you feelings and something nice to help you feel better about the wait #SO I DID!#And thus the drabble of Drax and Yondu bonding and Peter being embarrassed but coming to terms with his weird ass family #BECAUSE WE COULD ALL USE A LITTLE BIT OF FEELINGS IN A HAPPY AU WHERE NOTHING EVER HAPPENS RIGHT?#So yeah I hope you enjoy reading over my thoughts and my words Yondad!Anon!#Feel free to pop in again if you want!#And if you wan to have the drabble posted by itself so you can enjoy it without everything added on top #well just ask!#I'll be happy to do that!#Anyway stay awesome Yondad!Anon and have fun reading over this you guys!#Lots of kisses~ ♥

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imaginebvb · 7 years

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I’d like to open the floor for friendly discourse...

I’d like to take this time to address the drama that has been going around the BVB Army lately (among other bandoms).

Click the “Keep reading” button to continue, because this one’s gonna be a long one.

First of all, I have only been in the BVB Army for under a year (It’ll be a year in May), but in that year, I have seen so much drama. I may be new, but that doesn’t mean my opinion doesn’t matter.

I came into the BVB Army through Andy’s solo project. I was watching an Onision video on YouTube and a trailer for his “We Don’t Have to Dance” music video came on, so I clicked it and watched the video. In the End was the very first BVB song I ever heard. As soon as I entered the BVB Army, I noticed that people weren’t very happy with Andy going off on his own, but it died down thankfully.

Now lately, it seems that the drama has started again. Most notably involving Jake and Andy, but I have seen some drama surrounding Ashley and Jinxx. The only one without any drama is CC. I am not going to discuss the Andy/Juliet situation that happened a few months back as that is between them and only them. I came across this post on here that basically called out each of the boys (excluding CC for the most part). They of course brought up the Andy/Juliet thing (which again, I’m not going to discuss) and how BVB is probably going to break up because of Andy’s solo project. Andy started his solo project so the sound of BVB wouldn’t change. He was writing songs for it while they were recording BVB IV. “They Don’t Need to Understand” dropped while they were in the studio and Jake was one of the first ones to see it and he loved it. He was on board with it. They brought up how Ashley has all but disappeared from social media except the rare occasion when he appears to tweet and post to put out fires that have been started by rumors and such. It makes sense to me that Ashley owns half the band, seeing as he has a degree in marketing. Maybe Ashley’s tired of the drama too and just wants to get away from it all. The part about Jinxx was the one that really mad me angry. They basically accused Jinxx of getting married in secret to his current girlfriend, because Sammi started talking shit on social media (I never saw any posts, but that’s what was said). Then they brought up Jake and Inna and their side project Aelonia and how he’s trying to ease us into it, so we’ll have something for when BVB breaks up. And lately, his promoting has been brought up a lot. About how he’s promoting Aelonia and their clothing line and fitness things and basically accusing him of only wanting money. If you want his stuff, buy it. If you can’t afford it, don’t buy it. It’s that simple. CC is the only one who has been staying out of the drama. Maybe he doesn’t care or maybe he doesn’t want to be dragged into it. Who knows?

I’ve never self harmed or been abused or had a crappy life, so I don’t see these guys as my ‘heroes’. Has music or bands gotten me through hard times in life? Fuck yes they have, but I wouldn’t say they saved my life. So maybe I don’t get it, but to me the guys are just people living their dreams. They were young when BVB started, so of course they’re going to grow up and change. Their interests are changing and if BVB breaks up, it’ll be okay, because look at the MCR fandom. Their band has been gone for a couple of years now and their bandom is still going strong and collecting followers. Besides, it’s dangerous to hold someone to that high of standards, because they’re almost always going to let you down.

So I guess what I’m trying to say is I’m the type of person who doesn’t hate someone until they give me a reason to. Maybe I’m naive or whatever, but the guys haven’t given me a reason to be upset with them, so I won’t be.

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airoasis · 6 years

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"Coffee shop Skype": International Love Story Docu-Film Inspiration

The Following is submitted under the heading, "Anything Can Occur"

Individuals are still asking, here in 2014, "What is next for the documentary story and couple known as "Cafe' Skype"?

It should not have actually been this tough for a Ukrainian, Russian-speaking, Female and an American male who strengthened the foundation of their love on the web to overcome her Visa and his passport and financial obstacles in order to wed and cohabit-- but it was. Cannot you just hear the deep-voiced motion picture trailer announcer offering this? Now that the financial obligation is paid ... when will we see a picture of these lover together? ...

Naphtali lastly taken a trip to Kiev to see Inna-Nina! Nevertheless, she had accepted a momentary Nursing task in Rome, Italy to make loan she apparently might not make in Zaporozhye to assist her ailing mama. They missed each-other "like ships in the night". That added another "twist" to the plot of our story! Do you want to be the movie team to reenact this historical and long-awaited occasion? Please read-on! Contact us! We require assistance to take place! Calling all movie Investors! Get your name or company noted in our Rolling credits for $100.00!

" A short documentary-film about The Timing of Life and Loan vs The Timing of Love ... Ukrainian appeal satisfies veteran New York City radio/club DJ and Author who lived in Nashville at the time, they fall in "love" and both needs to overcome passport, cold war-era Visa rules, immigration financing, household senior care and monetary obstacles to be together ..." The truth and one of the main sub-plots is that my bride-to-be has actually sent me money to assist pay a debt that permitted my passport to be granted ... I repayed it back to her after 2 years of expectations, wishing to relieve our first and just rift. "Cash isn't really whatever ...", my Mum once stated. In this story, it was what we thought was the last hurdle that will assist us conquer the Visa concern to assist get Her to the USA. Meanwhile, Nina needed to take work as a Nurse to help her household back in Ukraine in Rome, Italy part-time in quiet, losing expect their meeting, despair ... as I flew to Kiev.Video and text from our short-falling crowd-funding campaign for our international marital relationship story with important messages for the United States and Slavic world gov 'ts. you can hear one of our protagonists, Nina, discuss it from our crowd-funder on Kickstarter 2 years earlier, here: http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/cafeskype/cafe-skype-a-lil-multicultural-love-overcomes-obst/posts/97291?ref=email&show_token=d02fa023d6daa5ae!.?.!There are sample videotrailers for you to view! simply email us at the contact address to the right sidebar on this page, and you get the links. Individual interview and social networks advertising video with the delighted couple for$1,000

! All too typically, when you hear about a love between an American guy and a Russian girl, people don't take it seriously, laughing with a wink and a nod behind his back, reducing it as if the person is getting scammed, deceived or insulting it as a mere "international booty-call"or something. Yes, often some women do attempt to con a man via web frauds, but Nina never ever asked Naphtali for one cent! In truth, she magnanimously assisted Naphtali conquer a d ebt and that completed his first UNITED STATE passport get! Do not sell United States short on intelligence, OK? This is not the case with Nina & Naphtali. Forget the unfavorable and highlight the POSITIVE!.?.!! What is going to occur next causing the day when she leaps right through the Skype web cam, into his waiting arms?You can help money the movie using the yellow" donate"button in the upper-right of the sidebar.Back-story: Naphtali lastly attained his U.S. passport, thanks to Inna and a Brooklyn long-time good friend's financial & help to overcome an unjustified tax from his past. If you truly want to see how this fascinating story comes to a happy ending, contribute now! We have the backing of the Financial Sponsor,"From The Heart Productions", http://www.fromtheheartproductions.com/ making it simpler for you to write-off your contributions come tax time! The message of this movie is required on numerous levels as a wake-up call, to attain the path to unity that the Developer assembled us, different peoples in the world for, in addition to untangle some of the U.S legal system from uneven/unjust "taxtics"by states that can bypass the federal government's guidelines and deny passports. Proposed length: 27 minutes; Target audience: PBS, NPR, BBC, IFC.Call our"legal Eagle"and head of fund-raising escrow, Bruce, at the law office(718-855-6840)with your question, contribution or remark ! You can utilize your check, money orders, cashier's checks, bank debit card so that the objective of funding this message film progresses. Among Inna's cherished artists is Lenny Kravitz, whose father just-so-happens to be Ukrainian and his mother a Black Lady! Here is the very first Kravitz video that Nina ever sent out to Naphtali to express how their interactions by means of e-mail, you tube, postal mail, telephone and Skype made her feel"in stomach"-- 'Butterfly '. Thanks to you who look, like, listen, think

pro-actively and "beyond beyond the box". See you at the films or in syndication.Nina, Naphtali, Nate, Nan, Cheetah The"Cafe'Skype" docu-film task production group For Benefits descriptions & more info: http://www.webspawner.com/users/cafeskype/index.html How will the plot turn next? You write the conclusion and we will play it out in real life/on-screen for your$5,000 donation!.?.!! There will be remixed versions!PICKHIT: Naphtali has actually repaid his financial debt to Nina and there will enjoy updates into 2014, Your assistance will assist both of our elderly Mom's health problems. Will we simply have to snag a random stranger to record the conference at an airport? Or will your movie crew be on-hand to save the minute? You have already

lost 2 chances!SURESHOT Urgent Update! February 28, 2013: After a fantastic civilian

demonstration that toppled Ukraine's corrupt and Russian ass-kissing"President

", Putin the puppet-master orders troops to Crimea which is not all

that far from where Nina deals with her elderly mom and kid. Exactly what the fuck is next that will pop-up as a difficulty to our togetherness far from Ukraine? What is next?? I am so chagrined, you would not think it-- however do not reveal it. All assistance appreciated due to the fact that this might end up being VERY bad, and then I end up being afraid that we may never satisfy our dream. ~ N.World Best Update. It is now February, 2015 and thanks to paranoid Putin, the Russian "President"and his war by proxy, the prospects for our marriage and a happy ending to this story are grim. The frontline of the war is presently just about 225 miles from Nina's city in southeastern Ukraine!! Help!! Sadly, my last crowdfunder just raised a little over$500US and I sent her most of it for he household(aliing, senior mother), the rest used to begin a savings account for ultimate refugee status. Paradise only knows how far Putinitler's jerks will march into Ukraine now. I still prospect for any concepts to raise the significant countless dollars to assist. I pray that the United States, together with its allies going back to The second world war soon send out the essential arms and assistance to help Ukraine prevent any further Russian aggressiveness. Your concepts are welcomed to help the"Coffee shop'Skype "story reside on in the remark section of this post.Sadly ... I thank you ~ N.Thanks for Reading. We invite you to share this post. We still require your support to finish our story and this film as we rendezvoused together in London, U.K. in October of 2013!!!! What a journey ... Keep an eye out for the book version to be launched in early 2016. Somebody will need to do much better than"sorry ". Your comments are strongly urged!

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matthew-eleventhirty · 6 years

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pause. resume.

hey! i havent posted inna while because school got way too crazy way too fast. about two weeks ago, maybe less, my computer broke and i lost all of my work from the semester. literally the day before i was going to buy a usb but didnt because i had $5 to cvs and wasnt gonna drop $20 on it.. i should have. i printed out most of my work, but since i lost my scholarship i tried extra hard to keep everything in order and write as many notes and go out of my way for school as much as possible in case i had to defend myself. at my college, im not sure about others, if there is a grade you believe you didnt deserve you can dispute it within a certain amount of time. i wanted to do that so i took notes on readings and made vocab sheets, but as of rn, theyre all gone.

annnnywayy, along with this work missing, i also lost my outline to my 10-page paper. i love to write, and i dont care how long it is... but it was on the meaning of life and the due date was today. i had to take off of work to finish it and was up until 2 every night trying to not plagiarize and to get as much as i could get done before becoming delusional. this took a lot of time out of my day and im shocked that when my professor read it, it was an a. well, he said that if i fixed some tedious things it was an a. i was blown away.

but in the upcoming weeks i have a 25-page paper in english which is based off of my writings throughout the semester, but in a more creative light. we have to make it based off a passport or travel. i decided to make it as if i was writing letters to my family members. each letter will touch upon some of the main subjects and will also include a lot of the details from my older papers plus a little more. im so excitied because i got some new markers and im going to get the envelpoes with the red and white border and tie it together with some string. i also want to make each letter a little more relaxed, so for one i think it would be cute if there was a coffee mug ring and another with some doodles or maybe a picture taped. just make each interesting. of course ill put a disclaimer in saying these things are intentional to show how to family you are relaxed and maybe come up with another way to justifiy each. I discussed this with my teacher already and he is in love with the idea of writing letters and honestly, so am i. aside from english i have a spanish presentation due on thursday! i have to speak in spanish off the top of my head about a place in Spain. slightly nervous because again, i need an a, but she loves me the most and i have a 96 average already. hopefully, this will raise my grade to a 98 and ill be set!!

best wishes and happy thanksgiving xx

#onlyeveraboutme #totalbs

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innainkorea · 7 years

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Welcome to Korea!

Hello friends! I apologize for the social media radio silence. I had every intention of making ‘daily’ posts, but we have been SO busy.

*Please forgive me*

Here is a a brief synopsis of what I’ve been up to:

Wow! I can’t believe I am actually in Seoul. Sitting in bed, with Thao & Caeli, eating macarons and watching Boys Over Flowers. Life is so good right now.

We have been in South Korea for a full week. They aren’t kidding when they say time flies when you’re having fun! Our travels from Indianapolis went smoothly. After a couple of hours in Toronto on layover, we were off on our merry way to Incheon International Airport. The plane felt spacious and was fairly comfortable, especially for economy class. I watched movies and TV shows to entertain myself, but I also found myself looking out the window a lot. We flew over northern Canada & Alaska for a long time and the landscape was breathtaking. We could see vast mountain ranges capped with snow, emerald forests, and even massive river networks frozen over with ice. That in itself was a cool experience and a humbling reminder of just how much of this big, beautiful planet I have still yet to see. I also have never been so well fed on a flight before; 3 meals, constant beverage service, and snacks at your beck & call. I definitely recommend Air Canada for your air travel needs.

Inna’s Travel Tip #001: Neck pillows are you (& your butt’s) best friend! Making sure to reposition yourself at least every 2 hours to avoid painful pressure spots will make a huge difference during your in-flight experience.

For those of you who didn’t already know I have been given the amazing opportunity to study abroad in Seoul this summer! For the next two weeks, I will be participating in a number of educational experiences with the goal of learning about health care and behavioral health care in a global context. I was also appointed as one of IUPUI’s newest #GlobalJags, by the Office of Study Abroad. This blog will be home to a personal travel journal I’ll be using to chronicle my time here. I’m so excited to share my thoughts and photos with you all! Stay tuned for daily(-ish) posts and please send me ALL & ANY questions/requests :)

Inna Ayos, IUPUI Office of Study Abroad Social Media Ambassador

DAY 1 [5/22/17]:

This is our first official program day in Seoul, and we have a full schedule ahead of us! Thao & I started our morning in the hotel room with a plate full of fluffy scrambled eggs and mini cheese hot dogs. This set the precedent for what I knew could only a fantastic spent afternoon at Ewha Womans University.

For lunch, we were honored with a welcome luncheon hosted by Ewha’s President of International Affairs. They shared information about Ewha’s many opportunities available to international students, both men & women. They were so incredibly kind to us and enthusiastic about our arrival. We all left our meeting with full bellies and a cool new tote bag & reusable water bottle.

Lunch Menu: bulgogi (beef), rice, & banchan (Korean side dishes) It was so good, I could’ve cried.

The next activity on our schedule was a campus tour. This was our chance to get a feel for what Ewha’s campus was like and learn more about the historical significance of the university. So you may have noticed that the school is called Ewha Womans University. Is that a grammatical error you wonder? It is not. The spelling was chosen with purpose. While the university of course wants to encourage women as a group to innovate and take on the world, it’s a reminder that the mission has always been to help each individual woman to achieve her goals and reach her fullest potential.

Ewha was originally founded by Christian missionaries from the United States and still continues to teach it’s students the same original three cardinal virtues: truth, goodness, and beauty. Students are also required to take a chapel class, that isn’t necessarily a catechism class (everyone is free to practice & study whatever doctrine they please), but merely a chance for students to learn more about how they can apply the three cardinal virtues to themselves and the work they’re doing. It was so moving to learn about Ewha’s origins. The school started with the tenacity of 1 teacher and 1 student, and to see it’s growth to it’s size today is impressive and awe-inspiring. Female leaders who will lead us to a better tomorrow are being educated within their hallowed halls, including one of our instructors, Ewha alum Dr. Michin Hong.

We also had the awesome opportunity to attend a lecture by Professor Sophia (can’t remember her last name oopsies) who leads an english-taught social welfare course. Today’s topic was about the effects of an aging population on a society. We learned that as the world population continues to grow, and with people now living longer pretty much everywhere, our elderly population is also booming and with that will eventually outnumber their younger counterparts in the near future. What this means is that the need for elder care is going to increase as well, and as our society stands now, we may be ill-equipped to meet that demand because there is simply not enough younger people who are willing to take on these care positions.

After the lecture portion, we were broken down further into groups to discuss what stigmas exist against older adults. Our group talked a lot about how there are many different perceptions that exist. Some people think of the elderly as grumpy, “out of touch”, and anti-progressive. Others think of them as wise and as key-players in leading the young. We found that it really depended on the individual and in what context you interacted with them. I brought up Erikson’s Stages of Development in our discussion. Now that I think back to it, I’m not sure I explained it in the best way, because I couldn't remember some of the specific verbiage off the top of my head. But I do believe I was able to give them a good general idea of how to interpret it. Essentially, at each stage of life, every person faces a specific psychosocial dilemma. And depending on what they’ve been able to accomplish developmentally until that point determines what stage they're in. For older adults, 55-65+, they either have “integrity” or “despair”. The adult has achieved “integrity” if they feel contentment having led a full & meaningful life, perhaps leaving a lasting and important effect on the world they will eventually leave behind. For those who may harbor regrets in their life’s directions or the decisions they have made, “despair” is more evident. I thought this could potentially explain why there is such a dichotomy in the perception of our elderly counterparts. It was overall a very stimulation discussion and I enjoyed getting to know a small group of Ewha students. One cool thing about this class was there a lot of international students, from all over the world. There was a girl from the states and another from the Ukraine in my group. This added to the diversity of perspectives in our conversation, which I really enjoyed.

Overall, it was a really long first day, but a strong & impactful start. I cannot say enough how enthused I am to have already learned so much in such a short amount of time. But I still have a TON of stuff to share with you all!!

I will continue to post about all that we’ve been up to, but it’s going to come in more sporadic bursts than I had previously anticipated. So keep an eye out for more blurbs & pictures!

Inna xx

PS I also wanted to take this time to say thank you again to all of you who supported me to make this happen. I quite literally could not have done it without your love & care of me. I am eternally grateful <3

#study abroad #iupui #global jags #social work #nursing #IU #raise the flag #ewha womans university #seoul #south korea

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taexual · 4 years

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i’d love you to stay but that’s simply insane // JJK (8)

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

genre: college au

warnings: liiiittle bit of angst (jungkook is nervous and bitter ok)

words: 3.7k

chapter eight

Just like the last time you’d attended a Parental Advisory gig, this time the club was also packed with people wasted, excited, and just all-around hot for life. However, instead of finding your usual spot by the second-floor bar – you preferred to steer clear of the crowd where a stranger could have started grinding on you any second and Inna loved the view of the stage from higher up – you and your roommate were now at the barricade.

“I really shouldn’t have told you he asked me to come,” you said with a sigh as the drunken crowd kept pushing you in every direction. You didn’t think Inna was going to hear you but she turned to you with a disappointed look.

“Yes, you should have. And I’m glad you did. Otherwise, we’d be over there, all the way across the club,” she said, swinging her hand back to point at the second floor and nearly poking the eye out of a guy who was walking past. She ignored his surprised yelp and swung her hand right back to point at the stage this time, “when Jungkook needs you here.”

“He doesn’t need me—”

“Hey, why don’t you just accept things for the way they are,” she suggested but it sounded more like an order, “and enjoy yourself a little, yeah? You can always go back to your strict routine tomorrow. You can forget yourself for an hour or two tonight.”

You wanted to get offended – your routine wasn’t that strict – but you felt like she was right and couldn’t bring yourself to argue with her further. Loosening up didn’t come naturally to you, however, so you told Inna you’d head to the bar for some drinks. but she grabbed the sleeve of your jacket as soon as you turned around.

“Are you kidding?” she asked, completely unamused. “There were, at least, ten guys who have been staring at you since we got here. There’s not a chance in hell you’re getting your own drink.”

“Inna, I’m not asking some guys I’m not even interested in to buy me drinks,” you said. You were surprised to hear how decided your voice sounded – as if there was someone you were interested in, but they currently weren’t available to buy you drinks and you didn’t want anyone else to do it instead.

Obviously, Inna noticed this, too, as she replied, “well, you can’t ask Jungkook because he’s on stage, so—”

“I’m not interested in him, either,” you cut her off, crossing your arms over your chest defensively – and childishly – while your roommate scoffed.

“Please,” she was in the middle of rolling her eyes but then she noticed – sensed him, really – a guy giving you a once-over as he walked by and, quickly letting go of your sleeve, she grabbed his instead. “Hey! My friend here was just saying how cute you were.”

Your eyes widened as the guy stopped and looked at you, a smirk appearing on his lips.

“She was?” he asked Inna.

“I—” you tried to interject – to fight for your dignity – but your roommate was on a mission.

“Yeah,” Inna told him. “She’s just not the kind of person who’d make the first move, you know?”

“Well,” the guy said, pleased. “That just happens to be my type. Can I get you ladies some drinks?”

“We—”

“That would be fantastic!” Inna beat you to it once again, looking at you with a proud expression on her face as soon as the guy walked away with a promise of ‘just a second’. You shook your head at her but she wasn’t fazed by your disapproval. “Don’t give me that look, this is what I meant when I told you to forget yourself.”

“I don’t feel comfortable using other people to get me drinks,” you said.

She understood what you were saying but she wasn’t in the mood to start a discussion about it right now, so she just patted your shoulder and said with a playful wink, “he’s the one who offered. And he’ll get to enjoy our company in exchange for the drinks. For a few minutes, at least.”

You were in the middle of a very deep sigh when you turned your head to face the stage again, and your eyes met Jungkook’s gaze. The air got caught in your throat and you started to cough violently about half a moment after you caught his sparkling eyes, and the boy on stage – proud to have this effect on you – smirked before walking away to interact with the other half of the club.

Jungkook walked back and forth on the stage a lot that night – just like any other night – but he kept finding himself on your side of the stage during every chorus of every song. His performance wasn’t meant for your exclusively – he was so good at what he did that, even if he’d have dedicated every song for you, the whole club would have still had the time of their lives – but your heart still fluttered – actually, your whole chest went through an actual earthquake, to be more precise – whenever he appeared in front of you.

This was serious. Seven years seemed to disappear with every blink of his purposefully deep brown eyes, and you were fourteen again. Fourteen and very much in love with him. Fourteen and listening to him tell you that you were his best friend, but. Fourteen and heartbroken when the “but” provided no real explanation as to why he decided to no longer be a part of your life.

And yet, you’d told him you wanted to be friends last Sunday at his house. No buts, no additional conditions, and no goodbyes without an explanation. You were starting over -- a genuine friendship, so long overdue.

And you didn’t lie. You did want to be friends. But, watching him tear himself to pieces as he performed the band’s latest song, you also wanted him in so many other ways, too.

It scared you again because you were starting to realize that no matter how much you tried to convince yourself – and him – that you’d be able to be just friends, it was next to impossible to forget all the feelings, dwelling underneath. They had been simmering slowly for the seven years that you didn’t talk – or maybe they faded away completely, but it was hard to imagine this fire ever going out – but they were full-on boiling now. You couldn’t let them spill because what if?

You survived the “you’re my best friend, but…” but you didn’t think you could survive the “I love you, but…”.

So, turning to look at the guy Inna had harassed to buy you drinks before, you accepted the cocktail he’d brought and gave him a smile. He was handsome, sure, but you didn’t feel attracted to him. And yet, faking attraction was much easier than faking indifference, as you thanked the guy for the drink and allowed him to gently touch your shoulder when he leaned in to ask you what your name was.

Because Jungkook was unable to tear his eyes off of you for longer than a minute tonight, he ended up witnessing the whole thing. He saw the guy bring the cocktails to you and your roommate – but the guy had his eyes for you only. He even saw him say something to the two of you that made you both laugh – but the guy only waited for your reaction.

And, before long, Jungkook found himself gripping the microphone so tightly, his knuckles turned white. He never missed a note – he knew better than that – but he stopped interacting with the club as much as he used to. People in the crowd didn’t notice his unusual lack of fan-service – they were fine as long as he kept singing and they kept drinking – but his bandmates saw that something was wrong immediately.

They wanted to ask him what happened – Taehyung even attempted to communicate with his eyes but Jungkook wouldn’t look at him – but they figured what the problem was as soon as the show ended, when Jungkook slipped away from the changing room and went out to find you. He caught you on your way out of the club.

“Hey!” he hollered so loudly, several groups of people around him stopped and turned. But Jungkook was looking at you. Always at you.

You were already too far from the club to hear him properly, so you excused yourself to Inna – who was more than happy for you two to talk – and went over to him.

“Hey,” you said. “Why are you still here? Isn’t there an after party you’re supposed to get to?”

He was expecting you to comment on the show, on his performance—but most of all, on the god-damn guy that had brought you drinks—or on anything else that had just happened. But, as they tended to do a lot lately – “I want us to be friends” – your words caught him off-guard.

“Uh, yeah, but I don’t really feel like going,” he mumbled and then nodded in the direction of your roommate who was now texting someone on her phone because she wasn’t sure if she should have waited for you. “Were you actually going to leave without saying goodbye to me?”

You hesitated. Because, yes, you were. And now, suddenly, you weren’t.

“Was I supposed to say goodbye?” you asked, feeling stupid.

“Well, that would have been the nice thing to do,” his voice was void of virtually any emotion, so you relied on his eyes and the way they narrowed as he said this.

“I didn’t want to invade your space,” you ended up saying even though, the truth was, you didn’t know how to be his friend anymore. Not even the cocktails you’d consumed inside would have gotten you to admit that, though.

Jungkook gave you a doubtful look. “It’s a club.”

“No, yeah, but you’re in the band and—”

“I invited you to come,” he said. “Obviously, I want you here.”

You lowered your eyes and Jungkook quickly recognized your discomfort. You probably thought that leaving was the right thing to do because you didn’t want to join him at the after-party, but he ambushed you anyway. You offered him your friendship but here he was, all insistent and most likely frustrating, too.

Maybe he was taking this too far. Maybe he wasn’t supposed to look for you. Maybe he should have—fuck, even after knowing you for so many years, he wasn’t sure what “being friends” involved. He couldn’t remember how to play this role.

“Yeah. It’s just—” you started to say but Jungkook laughed lightly – the ultimate way to relieve tension – and you looked at him again, relieved almost as soon as you heard it.

“Okay, enough with the excuses,” he said and then added, in a way that didn’t make it clear if he was teasing you or not, “I get it. You have better plans.”

You watched each other for a few seconds then – him, with a manufactured smile that he hoped looked friendly, and you, with a confused wrinkle between your brows because, even though you’d decided to be friends last Sunday, you still couldn’t figure out how to act around him – before you finally spoke up, choosing to go down the honest route instead of further trying to find a way to excuse your actions.

“I don’t. You’re the only plan I have tonight,” you said and he clearly took it the wrong way as his eyes widened just slightly, his lips stretching into an impressed smirk. “I-I mean—the show. Your show. You know—”

To ease your suffering – and to appeal to his own nagging curiosity – Jungkook deflected. “Who’s the guy who got you and Inna drinks?”

“What?” the question took you by surprise but you regained your balance quickly, “oh. I don’t know. Just some guy Inna saw while dancing and basically demanded he got us drinks. We’d have paid him back – probably – but he just sort of—”

Jungkook liked what he’d heard so he didn’t need the full story. “So, it was just a random guy?”

“Yeah, of course,” you said. “Why?”

“No reason,” he replied, turning to look behind him, at the door of the club, so you couldn’t see his relieved smile – all for your benefit, since he was just trying to be a good friend. “Hey, can we—do you want to go for a walk? Inna seems to have given up on you.”

You turned to check for your roommate but she was indeed no longer there. She must have left and you felt bad about making her wait for you -- and made a mental note to bring her back some sweets on your way home to make up for it -- but you knew she’d have slapped you silly if she found out you were thinking of her when you were with Jungkook.

“So it seems. Why a walk?” you asked when you looked at him again. The two of you had never taken walks together. In fact, you didn’t think Jungkook was ever the type to wander around aimlessly, he always acted on purpose. “I mean, sure, but since when do you—”

“Let’s not analyze since when,” he said, hands now in his pockets as he braced himself for something he’d been thinking about this whole week.

You noticed the gears in his brain come to action and gave him a suspicious look. “So, is there an intention behind this walk?”

“No,” he said as you two headed towards the road that lead behind the club and back to campus. “Okay, nevermind, there is. I have a favor to ask.”

You found that unexpected. “A favor?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. Go ahead.”

Jungkook was going to go ahead but then, as soon as he opened his mouth, he realized he didn’t really know how to.

“I need—would you, uh—” he stammered awkwardly but then stopped, shaking his head. This wasn’t coming out the way he’d intended at all. Finally, he took a breath to calm himself, and just spat it out, “I’d like it if you went to dinner at my parents’ house with me next Sunday night.”

It sounded wrong when he said it and you, watching him without replying, made it worse.

“I just—I can’t endure my father’s judgmental eyes without wanting to get mind-numbingly drunk after I leave,” he explained, his eyes set firmly on the pavement. Thousands of excuses flew through his mind, all so you wouldn’t take his invitation the wrong way. “He’ll kick-start my descent into alcoholism, I swear.”

You still couldn’t grasp what he was trying to achieve by bringing you into his house. His parents wanted him there, he’d promised he would come. It felt like a private matter. A family matter. You couldn’t see where you fit into this.

“And you think he wouldn’t look at you like that if I were there?” you asked.

“No, he probably still would,” Jungkook said. He wasn’t delusional. He knew you being there wouldn’t miraculously make his father proud of him. But he also knew several other things, too. “But, with you there, I wouldn’t want to forget about the night as soon as it ended.”

Just hearing him mention you lit your body up and you were drowning in wildfires by the time he finished his sentence. You wondered if they would go out or were you going to burn alive in them first.

“I—well, I wouldn’t mind coming,” you admitted slowly, walking a thin-line between your duties as his friend and something else entirely. “But are you sure I won’t make it more awkward for you?”

“Why would it be more awkward?”

“Well, you know,” you said but he obviously didn’t know. “I—y-you’re trying to prove to them that you’re a mature adult, right? And if you bring me there, it could seem like you’re still reckless. Like maybe you’re trying to take the heat off of yourself by bringing me along. Or, even worse, it could seem like you’re still, I don’t know, sleeping around and now you’re even bringing girls over to your parents’ place.”

He considered every one of the hypothetical scenarios you pointed out and, even though he wanted to laugh at the campus folktale of him, sleeping with anything that moved, he had to admit, you may have also had a point. However, as soon as you proposed a problem – his mind conjured up a solution.

This solution came in his father’s voice, demanding he stopped destroying himself and his family’s legacy. Insisting it was time he got himself together and started to act like an adult.

“What if I told them I was seriously committed?” Jungkook said.

You snorted. “Well, then me being there would definitely make it awkward.”

He felt stupid having to spell it out for you as he stopped walking and gave you a look. And if his posture didn’t prove how determined he was, his dead-serious eyes certainly did.

“You didn’t hear me,” he said. “You’d be the one I’m committed to. I-I mean, that’s what I’d tell them.”

Your skin prickled. Your palms were wet. Even the campus pigeons stopped pecking the ground and turned to watch the two of you.

“You’re, uh, suggesting we fake-date for your parents?” you clarified.

“I—well, yeah,” he shrugged, realizing why you were looking at him with the shocked doe-eyes, but choosing to play it off as not that big of a deal because it didn’t have to be. “I guess I am.”

You looked away, the evening air suddenly chilly as you crossed your arms over your chest. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea. Our parents know each other, it’d be weird.”

You could have kept going but, at the core of all reasons why you thought this was an awful plan, was the very reason that stopped you from giving in and confessing your feelings to him. You were afraid.

But Jungkook was on a roll now, completely convinced that he was a genius. He thought this was a profound idea that was going to solve a lot of his problems and maybe even make his father forget what a poor excuse of a son he’d been his whole life. Not to mention, it’d provide you both with so many opportunities to spend time together in an environment where you grew up and, thus, strengthen your friendship.

And, as he looked for the quickest way to convince you, he could also make out another advantage -- this one all about you.

“No, come on, think about it,” he said, energetic. “This deal can benefit you, too.”

“H-how would it benefit me, exactly?”

“I can make your dreams come true,” he said and, even before he elaborated, you didn’t doubt that he could. “I can get you a position at my company—well, my family company. You could intern there with me this summer, gain the experience you’d need for your own future, and then start a business of your own. Like you’d always wanted.”

You had to be honest, that sounded good. Wrong -- probably; you were never sure what was right when he was looking at you like that -- but good.

However, even despite him having this overwhelming effect on you and despite the end-result sounding so desirable, you still saw too many flaws in the plan.

“You couldn’t do that,” you said.

“I could,” he nodded eagerly. “For you.”

You cursed your heart for immediately jumping to your throat after he said this. “N-no, I mean—you’re barely a member of the board.”

“No, but that’s exactly why I need your help. My family will see how good I’m doing, how serious I am, and they’ll finally relieve some of the pressure they’ve been putting on me. Maybe they’ll even start to trust me,” he said and the more he talked, the more he believed this would work. It was hard not to get infected with his confidence. “And then we’re diving head-first into business from there. You help me turn into a very dedicated heir and I help you get something you’d always wanted.”

You were biting your lip in an attempt to save yourself from his contagious optimism. You couldn’t even look at him out of fear that you’d say yes without really thinking this through.

“That sounds too easy,” you said.

Jungkook sighed.

“Listen, I know you don’t want to date or anything and I’m not suggesting that,” he said, careful, “but can we just pretend to for my parents? Please? It’s just a friend helping out a friend, if you think about it.”

You had a feeling he was asking you to sign your death certificate as you said, “it’s really not. This will blow up in our faces, I swear.”

“It won’t! It can’t,” he disagreed, seeing how close he was to getting you to say yes. You’d been avoiding his eyes but now you finally looked at him and he put all of his hopes into the look he gave you. “You’re exactly what I need to show them that I am getting my life together. My parents know you already. They need to catch up with you so they can see how much you’ve grown but how you’re still as hard-working and dedicated as you used to be. How you’re a good influence on everyone you meet.”

“It’s—” you tried to say but he took a step closer to you and you forgot all words.

“In the end, even if they don’t end up being convinced that I’m changed,” he spoke, “they will probably still decide to ask you to join the company after they see your devotion. Your ambition.”

It was outrageous and yet you couldn’t say no because you thought that maybe it really didn’t hurt to try and see what happened -- courtesy of the cocktails you’d had before he found you -- but also because he looked like his life depended on this and it would have broken your heart to turn him down -- courtesy of a lifetime spent loving him a lot more than you probably should have.

“This is borderline ridiculous,” you tried but your voice lacked conviction, “we—”

“All the best ideas are ridiculous!” he argued.

“I can name several scientists who would disagree.”

“I don’t doubt that you can name a lot more than just several,” he countered, extending his hand, palm-up. “But come on. Give your friend a hand, would you? Please. I really need this. I need you.”

And, in the end, the reason why you took his hand wasn’t because of the position in his company that he’d offered. It wasn’t because he was so passionate about this plan. It wasn’t even because you wanted him to mature at least a little, so he’d stop hurting himself. So he’d grow closer to his family.

None of that affected you as much as his eyes did.

You took his hand because you still couldn’t say no to him. Because he needed you.

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#bts #bts reactions #bts fanfiction #bts jungkook #jungkook #jeon jungkook #fanfiction #jungkook fanfiction #fluff #angst #bts angst #bts fluff #bts au #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #college au #jungkook college au #bts college au

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