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#i wish i could be more eloquent in my response but i feel like hugging my phone surrounded by hearts is more accurate hskdjdhk
not an ask but:
OMFG i’m so excited for ep six of revengers, i constantly re-read the other eps cause that dynamic is beautiful and hilarious and stupid and wild, just love them!
bless your writing and your ideas because honestly, the service you are doing is spectacular and (at least for me) very much needed!
i remember AGES ago you posted a tiny one-shot where thor was mind controlled during infinity war and loki had to fight him!! that idea is still burnt onto my cerebrum and i always go digging to find it. anyways, that’s my fan moment, love you babes ❤️
me waking up to this message like
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amarimaryllis · 3 years
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I Do Not Think I Would (Bokuto x Reader)
Pairing: Bokuto/Reader
Prompt/Summary: The rational side of you tells you to leave, but for Bokuto Koutarou, you choose to stay. Alternatively, Bokuto Koutarou’s fangirls are ruthless.
Tags: Angst, Fluff, Haikyuu Timeskip Spoilers
Note: I used she/her pronouns for the reader, Bold Italicized sentences are excerpts from the poem “Love is Not All” by Edna St. Vincent Millay
Warnings: Mild Swearing, Mentions of self-hate, Mentions of insecurity, Bokuto has toxic fans
Part of A Sensitivity to Ephemera
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You met Bokuto Koutarou in your 3rd year at Fukurodani, but you had known of his existence for longer. It was hard to not know of Bokuto Koutarou if you studied in Fukurodani. Hell, it was hard to not know of him if you studied in Tokyo in general. Aside from the fact that he was the embodiment of solar energy, Bokuto Koutarou also had a ton of admirers.
Fangirls
Fanboys.
And everything in between and beyond.
However, the first time you ever interacted with him was in Honda-sensei’s room. It was quick, a brief encounter that promised longer ones. Bokuto’s grades had been slipping, and you were his assigned tutor.
“Bokuto-san, this is L/N-san from Class 6.” Honda-sensei introduces you two briefly. “She’ll be tutoring you until your grades are back to… Satisfactory. I trust you to not give her a hard time.”
“Nice to meet you, L/N-san!” Bokuto bows briefly, the grin plastered on his face, unfading. However, there’s a sense of urgency in his stance, vibrating, itching to run off. Probably because he had volleyball training, and nothing in this world could keep Bokuto Koutarou from his beloved sport.
You didn’t know why, but your heart was beating a little bit faster than normal.
Love is not all: it is not meat nor drink
Nor slumber nor a roof against the rain;
After a few weeks of tutoring, Bokuto’s grades were slowly getting better. It wasn’t “satisfactory” yet, according to Honda-sensei, but you guys were getting there. As a celebration, right after volleyball practice, Bokuto drags you to the closest cafe and tells you to choose anything you want because it was “on him” as he enthusiastically stated.
“Bokuto-san, you didn’t have to.” You mumble bashfully as Bokuto sets a tray down and seats across from you.
“Don’t worry about it!” Bokuto grins as he slides the food over to you. “It’s the least I can do since you’ve been such a great tutor.”
A small smile makes its way to your face. “I guess I’ll take it then. Thank you for the food!”
As you eat, you can see Bokuto’s eyes continuously flitting back and forth between a spot on your face and away from it. He looked hesitant, but your sudden speaking urges him to reply.
“Is there anything on my face?” You furrow your brows, raising a hand to wipe at your cheek.
“Ah yeah, wait, not there.” Bokuto reaches over the table, a large hand cupping your cheek before he presses his thumb to the corner of your mouth and swipes to remove whatever it was on your face. “You had sauce on your face.”
Fire and ice could co-exist at once, you concluded. Because if it didn’t, then you would like to present yourself as evidence. You were frozen, but inside you, there was an inferno of different emotions swirling, sparked by a single touch on your skin.
That night, after Bokuto had walked you home and you had settled in for the night, you dreamt of black and white streaks paired with the brightest golden eyes. You let yourself dream. You knew that this was the closest you could get to him. The real world wasn’t as kind to you after all.
While you slept soundly, Bokuto walked home. It was raining, but it didn’t matter to him because as the rain drops onto his skin, he wished that it was your touch that fell upon him instead. And for a second as he imagines, it almost felt like it was.
And though he so desperately wished for it as he lied in bed, slumber never came. Instead, in its place, were a hundred different stories, a hundred different futures, a hundred different lifetimes, and they all ended with the sight of a bashful smile, and the prettiest eyes.
Love can not fill the thickened lung with breath,
Nor clean the blood, nor set the fractured bone;
You gripped at your skirt tightly, fighting back the tears that threatened to escape your eyes. Fear gripped your chest as you watched Bokuto’s sleeping figure from your place on the chair beside the bed. There had been a small accident during Fukurodani’s practice match, a small collision, but it was enough to send him to the infirmary and you running after him.
It was stupid, you think to yourself. You had rushed to the clinic the moment your break started, and by the time you reached the room, you were a mess. The nurse only gave you a cheeky smile before she patted your back and said, “Don’t worry about your boyfriend. It’s a minor injury and it was probably just an ant bite for someone like him.”
Ant bites didn’t usually require sleep for recovery.
Also, he wasn’t your boyfriend, but you’d be the biggest liar on earth if you said that you didn’t want him to be. You were just his tutor. Sure you’d been tutoring him for a long time, and that was enough to form a friendship of sorts, but that was all you’ll ever be: a friend. So why were you acting like you were something more? Friends get concerned, they’ll drop by, check on you, go off once they realize it’s minor and you’re in good hands, and then wait for you to recover. They don’t stay, fussing, practically crying, and worrying over something so small.
You’re so caught up in your thoughts that the sudden placement of a heavy palm on your head startles you.
Bokuto chuckles as he takes in your disheveled state. Your eyes are damp, your hair is slightly messed up, and your skirt is still tight in your grip, but even then, he still couldn’t help but be mesmerized by the way you looked. “Hey hey hey, did I make you worry that much?”
You can’t help it. He’s recovering, you know that, but you couldn’t stop yourself from lunging at him and enveloping him in a hug. “I hate you so much. Promise me you’ll never make me worry like that ever again.”
Bokuto chuckles and you could feel the vibrations since you two were practically chest-to-chest. “If making you worry means you’ll hug me like this, then I don’t think I can make any promises.”
“Bokuto-san…” You attempt to pull away, but find yourself unable.
Sturdy arms wrap around your waist, and your frozen figure is pulled tighter against Bokuto’s body as he engulfs you with his larger frame. “Do you like me, Y/N-chan?”
You freeze.
Oh hell no.
Out of all the conversations in this world, this one was the one you did not want to have, especially not when you were emotionally vulnerable. You didn’t know if you had enough control over yourself to give the proper answers.
“What? No! I mean yes? You’re my friend, of course I like you.” Your fight or flight response to this conversation seems to have given you ample strength to pull away. You attempt to stand straight and face this problem head on, but your feet are pointing you towards the exit.
Ready to run. From this conversation. From your feelings. From rejection.
Bokuto raises a brow, a teasing grin on his face. “Oh, really?”
Contrary to popular belief (see: Honda-sensei), Bokuto Koutarou was not stupid. Very far from it. While he’s not academically gifted, he’s definitely smart on the people side of things.
You were an open book, and Bokuto was taking his time rereading every page.
“I…” You’re unable to answer, unable to find the words that would make the impending rejection hurt less.
“Well, if it helps—“ Bokuto sits up and sets his feet on the ground, lightly grabbing you to make you stand between his legs. “—I like you a lot.”
Your heart stops. Your world stops. Everything just stops. You’re gaping at Bokuto, mouth closing and opening as you try to find the proper words. You want to reply, eloquently, confidently, to save what’s left of your dignity, but you can only blink back at him.
You weren’t expecting this. Bokuto wasn’t expecting this.
A wave of uncertainty flashes through Bokuto’s eyes, and for a second, he wonders if he misread the situation. “Hey, it’s ok if you don’t feel the same—“
“Wait, no! That’s—“ You take in a deep breath, attempting to calm your racing heart as you try to find your next words. For someone who usually kept a level head, you sure weren’t acting like it. “That’s not it at all. I just… Are you sure?”
Bokuto is confused. He could understand the words individually. He could understand the sentence too, but he couldn’t understand its relevance in this context. What did you mean by ‘are you sure?’. Would he tell you if he wasn’t? Why wouldn’t anyone be sure about you? I mean, it’s you.
“Yes? Why wouldn’t I be?” Bokuto grabs your hand, and he laces his fingers through yours.
You don’t answer as you attempt to arrange your whirlwind of insecurity into one coherent sentence that could sum it all up. You didn’t want to burden him with an entire monologue of self-deprecation, but you couldn’t find a way to express the years of insecurity into one sentence that could do that feeling justice.
Bokuto sees this, and his heart breaks for a second. He was familiar with it. He knew those feelings all too well.
Uncertainty.
Doubt.
Self-Hatred.
“Can I kiss you?” Bokuto blurts out, and as he watches you get flustered, he thinks that this is a much better look on you compared to the one you were previously wearing.
You don’t speak. You just nod.
With that, Bokuto grabs you by the waist and reaches up to press his lips against yours.
It was Bokuto who broke the kiss, breathless as he pressed his forehead to yours. It was almost as if you had taken his breath away to breathe a new life into him with a simple kiss. You can feel his warm breath against your lips, his calloused hands gripping at your waist, and at the same time, you feel nothing. Maybe this is what it felt like to know of everything and nothing all at once. Hyperaware of every feeling, every part of your body that was connected to his, but at the same time you felt weightless, floating on a plane that didn’t seem to exist on earth.
“Can I do that again?” Bokut asks with a grin.
You don’t answer, simply grabbing at his collar and smashing your lips against his.
That was how your love story with Bokuto Koutarou started.
And you wish it ended there.
It well may be that in a difficult hour,
Pinned down by pain and moaning for release,
Bokuto’s fans were ruthless.
Bokuto’s fans are ruthless.
The toxic fangirls? Even more so.
Not all of them are terrible to you, some are kind, but there are enough bad apples that you start wanting to run away the moment you see the tree. His fangirls during highschool only ever went as far as gossipping and making snide remarks, but now that you were older and Bokuto was part of the MSBY Black Jackals, they had gotten worse.
Facebook? You don’t spend time there anyway.
Instagram? You’ve always avoided that place.
Twitter? Ah, good luck.
People are ruthless when they hide behind a screen and a fake name. Anonymity has a way of sparking bravery in even the most sheltered souls. There wasn’t a single tweet on your account that had no comment telling you how you’re not good enough, how Bokuto probably only stayed out of pity, how he’d probably break up with you soon, how they could make him happier than someone like you ever could.
Bokuto doesn’t know. He doesn’t have to know. You don’t want to tell him.
You’re never going to tell him.
It’s pathetic, you think to yourself. You’re afraid that if Bokuto saw these comments, the rose-colored glasses he wore would shatter. You were afraid that these tweets would tip him off the edge and plunge him into the sea of realization. The realization that he could do so much better than someone like you.
You were tired. So tired that you just want to give in to the comments and leave. It’s logical, after all. Bokuto would find someone much better than you. He’d go off, marry a girl deserving of him, and she’ll give him a family, a future, and a life worthy of someone like him. And you? You’d be free. Alone, heart destroyed beyond repair, but free. You could move on, move away, move as far as you could: out of sight, out of mind. It was so easy.
Or nagged by want past resolution’s power,
But you couldn’t.
The only thing you could do was stare at the tweets that dissected each and every single one of your insecurities and laid it bare, waved it around freely for the world to see and judge. You could only let the tears fall as the laptop screen glared back at your face. Everything is numb and you don’t feel like yourself as you scroll through every single comment and find yourself agreeing with each and every single one.
Sobs wrack throughout your body as it all becomes too much.
You’re too weak to stay, too weak to leave. So where do you go? Where the hell are you supposed to place yourself in this world when it feels like everything is going against you? Why was the world doing this to you? Why did it have to be you? You weren’t strong enough for this. You weren’t good enough for this, you never were, never are, and never will be--
“Love?”
You immediately slam the laptop shut and throw the covers over your body as if you had been there the whole time instead of sitting at the edge of the bed and crying over comments.
“Hey…” The side of the bed sinks. “Bad day?”
The fucking worst. You thought to yourself, but you only shook your head before burying your head deeper into the covers of your shared bed.
“Don’t wanna talk about it?” You can hear the worry in Bokuto’s voice as he places his hand on your waist over the blanket, rubbing up and down to soothe you.
Some part of you finds the courage to speak, and the words tumble out of your mouth faster than your brain can process them. “Why are you still with me?”
“Because I love you.” Bokuto doesn’t hesitate as he looks at your still-covered figure.
“What if you stop?” You mumble, but it was loud enough for Bokuto to hear,
“Not possible.” Bokuto gently pries the blankets away from you, uncovering your form that was curled up into a fetal position.
“But— Just—“ You turn the other way, unable to look at him. “What if you do?”
“Like I said—” You can feel the mattress behind you dip lower, sturdy arms moving to wrap around your waist as Bokuto nuzzles his face into your nape. “—not possible.”
With that, the tears start flowing once more.
You bury your face into the pillow, not wanting to show Bokuto because you knew that the sight of you crying wasn’t something he liked. He hated seeing you in distress, and he hated that the only thing he could do was talk you through it and comfort you.
“Hey hey hey…” Bokuto pulls away and makes you sit up straight before he sits against the headboard and pulls you to sob into his chest. “Where’s this coming from? What’s wrong?”
“Everything’s wrong.” You spat angrily, your grip on his shirt tightening. Anger at yourself, anger at the universe, all summed up in a single sentence. “Nothing ever goes right anymore, and I’m just—“
Your speaking is interrupted as another wave of sobs. “I’m so tired.”
You can feel Bokuto freeze, his hand that was rubbing your back stopping as he takes in your words. “Of what?”
“Everything.” You murmur, your grip on Bokuto’s shirt loosening as you press your forehead against his neck. “Just everything.”
“Does that include me?” You can hear Bokuto’s voice waver as his grip around you gets weaker. “Are you… Are you breaking up with me?”
You’re silent for a while. Was this it? Was the universe making the choice for you?
Whatever it was, you take it.
You pull away and look down, unable to stare into Bokuto’s eyes. You didn’t know if you could pull through if you could see the look on his face as you say your next words. “If it means that it will all stop, then maybe I should.”
Bokuto’s heart shatters, and his world follows in its footsteps. He can feel the tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. He knew you had been acting off the past few days, but he gave you some space so that you could sort it out until you were ready to finally approach him. But this? He wasn’t prepared for this.
“Why?” There’s a painful tug at your chest as you hear Bokuto speak in such a broken tone. “Did I do something wrong?”
“It’s not you. It’s me.” You cringe inwardly at your statement. Of all the things you could’ve said, you just had to say the most overused line in all of break-up history. “Bokuto, you—“
“It’s Kou.” You can hear Bokuto’s voice crack at the end. “It’s not Bokuto to you, Y/N. It’s Kou. Whatever it is just tell me, please I can fix it—“
“I’m the problem, okay?!” You couldn’t stop yourself from raising your tone, standing up from the bed to distance yourself from Bokuto. “I’m not good enough for you. I don’t deserve you. They’re right when they say that you could do so much better than me—“
You’re cut off as a sob pulls itself from your chest. Your chest is tight, your head is throbbing. Your legs are shaky and you couldn’t stop yourself from falling to your knees as you continue to cry. “I-I just… I know I don’t, but I-I’m so tired of b-being constantly r-reminded that I’m never g-going to be enough.”
“Y/N, none of that is true. Who told you that?” Bokuto’s tone gives away the pain he was feeling, but there was a hint of anger underneath it all.
You don’t answer, shaking your head, continuing to sob as Bokuto moves from the bed to kneel in front of you.
“Love, who told you that?” Bokuto places a comforting hand on your thigh as his other hand lightly grabs you by the chin to make you look at him.
“Everyone.” You wondered how pathetic you looked in his eyes right now. “Not a single day passes by where I’m not reminded by your fans. It’s stupid to keep listening to them, but they’re right—“
Bokuto cuts you off with a brief kiss, just enough to shut you up to give him a chance to speak as he moves to cup your cheek in his palm. “No, they’re not. They never will be.”
You don’t reply. You don’t argue, but you don’t agree either.
“Don’t break up with me, please.” Bokuto cups your face with both of his hands, occasionally brushing his thumb over your cheek as he presses his forehead against yours. “You mean the world to me. You’re absolutely perfect the way you are, and I know you don't believe that.”
You sob at that, and Bokuto is quick to press a kiss against your forehead and pull you into his chest. “If I have to spend my entire life reminding you of that then I will.”
I might be driven to sell your love for peace,
Or trade the memory of this night for food.
Bokuto hovers over you, his arms on either side of your holding him up as he looks at you with the most lovestruck look you’ve ever seen on someone.
“You’re perfect.” Bokuto whispers against your lips before he presses a searing kiss against your lips. “Absolutely perfect.”
Bokuto presses his weight against yours, pulling your bodies closer to each other as he continues to kiss you breathless. You wrap your arms around his neck, an attempt to blur the boundaries of skin, muscle, and bone that separate your soul and his. He pulls you closer against him, his fingers digging deeper into the flesh of your hips as he trails his kisses down your neck and every expanse of skin that was laid bare for him.
“I love you so much.” Bokuto whispers repeatedly against your skin between every kiss he puts on you. “So much.”
As you laid beside Bokuto, his arms wrapped around your waist and your face nuzzling into his bare chest, the thoughts of ever leaving slowly become more distant and fade away into oblivion. His chest rises and falls, and you find your breathing slowly matching his as you observe his sleeping face, peaceful, unbothered by all the troubles of the world beyond your bedroom.
You smile to yourself. All rational thought tells you to leave, but for Bokuto Koutarou...
It well may be. I do not think I would.
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A/N: That’s two parts of the collection down, and three more to go! This one was supposed to be the lightest out of the five, but my finger slipped so... Whoops? HAHAHAGDHDHSJHS Anyway, I hope you guys like this one! 💖
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Text
Love
ace!Leviathan x ace gn!MC
Words - 2503
Content warnings - asexual characters, some internalized acephobia, lots of love and comfort
Prompt/inspiration - a gift for a reader on AO3 ☺️
Summary - You head to Levi’s room to check on him after not hearing from him all day, only to find him crying alone. After talking with him, you both learn something special about one another.
AO3
You were standing outside of Levi’s door debating whether or not to knock. Usually he was the one calling and texting you, inviting you to join him to play games, or watch anime, or just to hang out together in his room. But today, he had been quiet. Something that hadn’t happened since your early days in the Devildom.
To make matters worse, he was leaving all your messages on read, so you weren’t sure if he was mad at you or just too busy to respond. And you couldn’t think of anything that he had been looking forward to recently that would leave him so occupied. While you were contemplating your options, you pressed your ear to his door to see if you could hear any sounds from inside that might give you a clue as to what he was doing. That’s when you heard the unmistakable sounds of your favorite otaku sniffling and choking back sobs.
“Levi?”, you called out to him, opening his door without waiting for a response.
“Hmm?! Yeah?!” Levi startled, roughly scrubbing at his face to rid himself of his tears and trying to make himself look at least a bit like he hadn’t spent the better part of the day sitting in his room feeling sorry for himself.
“Hey, Levi, what’s wrong?” you asked him gently, as you sat down next to him by his aquarium, facing the opposite direction so you could see him better. He had his knees drawn up to his chest, and by now had given up trying to dry his tears and instead just hid his face in his arms.
When Levi didn’t respond, you simply wrapped your arms around his head and shoulders and held him, running your fingers through his hair. He stiffened for a moment, unsure if he really wanted you so close right now, but soon he had released his hold on his own legs, opting instead to wrap his arms around your middle, practically pulling himself into your lap in the process. And as soon as his face was hidden in the fabric of your shirt, he started crying once more.
All you could do for Levi was hold him, gently rubbing his back and combing his hair with your other hand. You had never seen him so upset before. Is this why he was hiding in his room all day?
“It’s ok Levi, it’s ok.”
But it was definitely not ok. At least not from Levi’s perspective. This had officially been the worst day ever, and there was exactly zero possibility of it getting better. He had stayed up late the night before, crafting the most eloquent love letter he had ever written (well, the only love letter he had ever written), determined to give it to you today to tell you how he felt. And just as he was about to slip it under your door, he stopped dead in his tracks, watching as you smiled and laughed with his brothers on your way to breakfast.
Oh. That’s right. How had he forgotten?
Levi wasn’t stupid, he could tell how smitten his brothers were with you. It was obvious to anyone with eyes, and especially obvious to him who had known them for so long. They had all changed in subtle ways, becoming kinder, softer, more loving, since you had come along. And he had changed too. He knew that. He wrote a love letter for goodness sake. He never would have imagined he would be doing that for anyone that wasn’t 2D.
Still, there was one striking difference between himself and his brothers that he knew from all his anime and manga and dating sims was an essential part of any healthy relationship, and it wasn’t something he could give you. At least, not how he knew it was supposed to be. He loved you more than anything, he had no doubt in his mind about that. He even thought sometimes that you loved him too, with the way you would smile at him or gently hold his hand when he got anxious. But that didn’t make any difference did it? Love alone wouldn’t change things.
That didn’t stop him from clinging to you though, sobbing into your shirt and wishing you could just know how he felt and that he didn’t have to put it into words or explain. Hoping that maybe, just maybe, you felt the same, even though he knew that was impossible. But he could still dream couldn’t he? Dreams were all he had left now.
After a while, Levi’s breathing started to calm and he was able to focus on the sound of your heartbeat. He loved that sound. More times than he’d care to admit, he had gotten distracted just listening to it while you cuddled with him and watched a show together. Sometimes even falling asleep. You had never said anything to him about it before, but the way you held him to you now made him think that perhaps you knew and wanted to make sure he could hear it.
“Sorry,” he mumbled, trying to sit up, but you didn’t let him go and he didn’t fight you. He only snuggled closer to you, which made you smile as you hugged him tight.
“It’s ok, Levi. You don’t need to apologize,” you felt him nod against your chest, and you pressed a kiss to the top of his head.
“I was worried about you today. I tried calling you and texting you all day at RAD,” you paused before continuing, “Can you tell me what happened?”
He didn’t answer right away, and you felt his arms tighten around you.
“It’s ok, take your time. I just want to help,” you soothed, continuing to rub his back as you held him, patiently waiting for him to open up.
“...do you like any of my brothers?”
“Uh, huh? I mean, they're all important to me, if that’s what you’re asking. But where’s this coming from?”
“No, I mean like like them. You know,” he mumbled into your chest.
“Like do I have a crush on them?”
“...yeah,” he replied, meekly.
“Well, no, I can’t say I do. But seriously, where is this coming from?”
Levi didn’t want to answer. He was bad at this stuff. It’s why he wrote the letter in the first place. His thoughts and feelings would just get so jumbled up whenever he tried to talk about these things out loud. He tightened his fist around the letter that he was still holding, crumpled up in his hand. Maybe if he could just give it to you, you would understand?
This time when he tried to sit up and pull away from you, you let him, studying his face closely as he did his best to hide behind his bangs. When you noticed the wad of paper he was holding out to you, you took it from him and carefully unfolded it.
“What’s this?” you asked, and when he still didn’t answer, you started to read.
Dear Henry,
I bet this is weird, getting a letter from me right? I hope you don’t mind. I thought about talking to you, but every time I tried I forgot what to say so I thought writing would be easier.
I’m really glad that you were chosen for the exchange program, and that I got to know you. I’ve never had a best friend before. And you’re the best friend I could ever imagine. I know I’m just...well, me...but I hope I’m able to be at least half as good of a friend to you.
I love you.
xoxo,
Lord of Shadow
aka
Leviathan
You had to read over the letter a couple times just to make sure it was real and you weren’t imagining the whole thing. Levi loved you? But why was he so upset? And what was with all the weird questions about his brothers? As much as you wanted to leap for joy after finally receiving his confession, you were also deeply confused.
“Levi, I’m not sure I understand,” you asked, raising your head to look at him again. Levi was curled up on himself once more, hugging his knees tightly to his chest and keeping his face from view.
“What is there to understand? It’s exactly what it looks like.”
“Then why are you so sad?” you scooted closer to him so that your legs were touching again, and tenderly stroked his head, “Did you think I’d reject you?”
“That’s what you’re going to do isn’t it?” he said, sniffling and pulling his legs even closer.
“No, Levi. Of course not. I love you too.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Why would you think that?” your arms were now wrapped around his shoulders again, your cheek resting on top of his head. You had to admit that it stung hearing him reject your own confession, but it only strengthened your resolve to get answers.
“I’m not like my brothers.”
“I know, that’s why I’m here with you and not them.”
“I wouldn’t be a good boyfriend.”
“I’d like to be the judge of that.”
“But it’s true. I can’t...you know...do the thing.”
“The thing?”
“Yeah the thing.”
“I don’t know what that is, Levi.”
“THE thing. The thing only couples do,” he was getting a bit frustrated now. Were you really going to make him say it?
“Levi...do you mean sex?” you raised your head to try to catch a glimpse of Levi’s face, but all you could see were the tips of his (very red) ears as he turned his head more to the side and buried it further in his arms.
“...yeah.”
“Hey, that’s ok. You don’t need to,” you said, wrapping your arms back around him, hugging him tightly.
“Of course you need to. That’s what couples do,” Levi couldn’t conceal the waiver in his voice as his eyes started to well with tears once again.
“And where did you hear that?”
“I dunno. Everywhere. It’s how it is, isn’t it? You fall in love, you kiss, you...you know...and that’s how you know you’re a couple.”
“Levi,” you chuckled softly, “this isn’t a shojo manga or a dating sim. There are plenty of people in relationships that don’t have sex.” You pressed another kiss to the top of his head as you started to run your fingers through his hair like you had been earlier.
The truth was, this was the exact conversation you had been fearing and why you had avoided admitting to your own feelings for so long. You had been in relationships before, and some of them ended quite badly after you had explained your sexual preferences, or lack thereof you could say. The last thing you wanted was to have Levi reject you, but even more than that, you didn’t want him to think that there was something wrong with him that made you not want to have that sort of a relationship.
Learning that he felt the same way, and struggled with the same fears, was a huge relief to you, lifting a weight you hadn’t even been aware you had been carrying from your shoulders.
“There are plenty of ways to be intimate, to feel connected, that don’t involve sex. And I think we have a pretty good connection already, don’t you?”
You heard Levi sniffle, before he cautiously raised his head to look at you. He was surprised to see the understanding in your eyes, as well as the soft smile that spread across your lips. He hadn’t thought it possible to love you anymore than he already did, but here he was, heart threatening to beat out of his chest, while you looked at him like he was the most precious person in the entire world. When his tears started to fall again, you were quick to pull him back into a hug, and this time he wrapped his arms around you and buried his face into the crook of your neck.
“I love you, Levi. So much. So so so much,” you whispered to him, “Do you want to know a secret?”
Levi nodded against your neck, still too emotional to verbally respond.
“I feel the same way as you. I don’t want that sort of relationship either.”
He tightened his grip around you, soaking up all your words and reassurances. Did you really feel the same way as him? Is that why you understood him so well? Because you wanted the same things? Is that why he always felt so at ease around you? Because you never asked of him more than he was able to give?
“We can do things our own way, you know? That’s for us to decide. Doesn’t matter what anyone else does.”
“Really? I can just hug you and watch anime with you and stuff and you’ll be happy?”
“Yeah. I’ll be happy. I am happy. You’re my best friend, aren’t you?”
“Yeah.”
“Then that’s all I need. My best friend.”
The two of you sat in comfortable silence for a while, hugging and cuddling one another, the occasional giggle being exchanged as the smile started to return to Levi’s face.
“Hey, you think we could go cuddle in the bean bag? We could put on an anime or something if you want. My back is just getting kinda sore sitting on the floor like this,” you asked, straightening up and stretching out your neck. Levi was quick to agree and help you up off the floor, leading you by the hand to his oversized bean bag chair.
“Umm...do you think we could...just cuddle?” he gave your hand a small squeeze, blushing at having asked such a direct question.
“Yeah, we can do that,” you replied, taking a seat and tugging Levi down to join you, causing him to tumble into your lap.
“Ah! S-sorry…!” he scrambled to get off of you, but you only laughed and adjusted your legs so that he was seated between them, perpendicular to you.
“It’s ok, you can stay,” you said with a smile, gently holding him in place with your hand on his hip. Levi’s blush deepened, but he nodded in agreement, quickly wrapping his arms around your middle and resting his head on your shoulder, with his forehead pressed against your neck.
As you began to scratch his back, he relaxed more fully against you, enjoying your warmth and the tenderness of your touch. He could feel his worries melting away. He felt so safe with you. So understood. Accepted. It didn’t matter what weird quirk he revealed to you, intentionally or otherwise, you always embraced it, often revealing one of your own to help put him at ease. It was like the two of you were made for each other. Soulmates, if such a thing existed. And his heart had never before felt so full.
“I love you,” he whispered.
“I love you too, Levi,” you replied.
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canyouhearthelight · 3 years
Text
The Miys, Ch. 152
I’m not going to jinx it, I’m not going to jinx it, I’m not going to jinx it...
Okay, maybe I am. I managed to queue up the chapters I had in the barrel! Yay!! Which also means that I have a super duper exciting chapter coming up, which I can’t wait to write and can’t wait for y’all to read. I just need it to be perfect.
That said, thank you to @baelpenrose and @charlylimph-blog for your help with this particular chapter.  I love when we are all three in one of these sessions and just descending into chaos in the chat. Also, @mamayoda (who I can’t tag but I do want you to know I see your likes in my notes!) for love-bombing my notes recently.
“Is it just me or is everyone really jumpy?” Charly asked as I set my food down across from her.  It was our thrice-weekly lunch dates in one of the public mess halls, and she definitely had a point.  I had already noticed three people scowl distrustfully at the food consoles, hugging closely to the prepared food side of the room instead.
I sighed. “It has to have been Derek’s stress test.  It wasn’t supposed to impact systems we didn’t design, but…”
She snorted loudly. “Tell that to the week I spent taking cold showers again.  At least this time, the doors didn’t play any music when I walked through them.”
“Did your doors at least open consistently? I was stuck in my quarters for a whole day until we figured out that I could walk through if I had an escort.”  I laughed and shook my head before digging in to my food. “And, come to find out, we actually do manage the water systems, thanks to BioLab 2.”
Contrary to myself, Charly was entirely unperturbed at this revelation beyond sniffing her hoodie and shrugging. “My doors worked fine as far as I know, but Coffey and I tend to work the same hours, so… Maybe that was it.  Oo!” Her cheer of enthusiasm caught me off guard as she started bouncing in her seat. “OOOOO! I bet he activated the routine Xiomara had running when you and Jokul weren’t friends yet!”
“There was a routine!?” I asked, exasperated. “I behaved, thank you. It wasn’t necessary.”
“Meh. Just in case. What do you think her deal is?” She tilted her head to the side, at a table near us.
Sure enough, the woman at that table was darting glances around the room, her shoulders hunched, elbows close to her body, eyes wide.  I could practically feel her shaking from where I was. “I can’t tell if she looks suspicious or afraid,” I murmured, hoping the woman couldn’t hear me. “But the fact that I’ve met mice and chihuahuas who shook less, I’m going to go with afraid.”
As I watched the woman, weighing whether or not a stranger trying to comfort her would make it better or worse, Mona’s familiar face approached her instead.  She was speaking softly enough that I couldn’t make out words, but the woman clearly recognized her and only jumped slightly.
I was so focused on the sight of Mona comforting the woman that I nearly hit the ceiling when Parvati’s voice came from entirely too close to my right shoulder. “Rebecca.  She lost her family twice, first her parents, some cousins, and an uncle when the hack happened, and then her partner and children in the After.  It’s understandable that she’s terrified right now, after the stress test. Too many bad memories.”
My face flushed in humiliation. “Pranav and Zach sent a ship-wide alert that the stress test was happening - “
A perfectly manicured hand clapped over my mouth, one dark eyebrow arched in eloquent disbelief. “Sophia. You of all people know that mental scars do not heed logic.”
Charly’s hair flew around her face as she nodded enthusiastically. “After day three of cold showers, I flinched every time I went through a door in case that stupid song started playing again, no matter how many times I reminded myself that it was a stress test and I had decidedly not given Derek boba tea again.”
Both my hands flew up in surrender. “I stand corrected, I just feel awful to see people react like that.” Gazing around the room, I was suddenly much more aware of all the darting eyes, protective postures, seats turned so that backs were against walls.
Charly had obviously seen the same thing. “We may need to talk to Pranav about limiting the tests to one or two systems at a time.”
“I wish we could,” I admitted, stabbing a potato out of my pie slightly harder than necessary. “His department was passing the tests with flying colors when Derek was limited to one or two systems at a time.  But they failed this last test miserably, it turns out.  As soon as they would react to one thing, Derek would switch to another system, and they couldn’t be everywhere at once as well as they convinced themselves that they could.  And they can’t just be good at small scale attacks: the revolt that happened before the End brought everything down at once, from multiple access points. It was… kind of elegant, in a terrible way.  Very clean.”
Charly squinted at me and Parvati in suspicion. “Are you supposed to know that they crashed and burned in the test.”
I rocked my hand back and forth while I chewed on a mouthful of crust.  It had way too much butter in it, but at least it was actually crust this time. A week ago it had been something pretty close to paper mache. “Technically we don’t officially know that.  Officially, all we know is that Pranav has requisitioned enough additional staff to increase his team of programmers by seventy percent.”
“Asses handed to them, got it,” Charly nodded in understanding.
“We also officially know that Pranav currently owes Hannah quite the enormous favor,” Parvati confided.
“How big?” Charly ventured slowly.
“Big enough that his grandchildren may be indebted to hers,” came the laughing response.
Charly shook her head and clucked her tongue. “He should know better than to bet against Derek.  He breaks the systems for fun, and they asked him to really go for it. What did they expect?”
“Apparently to put up a better fight at least.” I forced a smile, but guilt weighed on my heart as I studied the room again, fully seeing the microexpressions of anxiety, fear, and anger.  It felt like the entire Ark was constantly swinging between hope and fear. The random drills weren’t really helping, either.
“They aren’t,” Parvati agreed, letting me know that I had been thinking out loud. “Everyone is sleep deprived, on high alert, and then all of a sudden all the computer systems went on the fritz for a week.”
I sighed and rubbed my forehead, pushing what was left of my pot pie away from me, appetite gone. “We need to talk to Grey and Antoine about getting counselling for everyone, seeing as how Xiomara and Pranav pretty much just triggered the entire ship. I mean, everyone knows counselling is available, but I think allocating training and resources to the therapy teams is going to take priority over Pranav’s request for the moment.”
Charly tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Do we have the space for some quiet rooms, like you set up for the Food Festival a few years back? That may be a good idea.”
Snapping into work-mode, Parvati flicked her datapad open, bangles clattering as she started making notes. “The quarters left by those who relocated closer to the Archives are still uninhabited, those can be used.  We may be able to convince some people to relocate so we can spread the rooms out more evenly, but even if we can’t, just having those rooms available will help.”
“Make a note to add in the proposal for Grey: possibility of having specific vendors permitted to serve food in BioLab 2.  Encourage mental health days and picnics.”
Parvati nodded in acknowledgement of my request, before adding her own spin. “As a contingency plan, find vendors who will pre-package picnics.  Between the current distrust of the consoles and the fact it will remind everyone of the annual Festival, the good emotions will help.”
“I like it,” I confirmed. “What else?”
“Paintball tag day in the corridors,” Charly announced, without preamble or warning. “Make it a holiday, everyone is off work, limit it to one end of the Ark.”
I shook my head. “Guns, not the best idea.”
“Ew, no. No pew-pew.” She wrinkled her nose. “I was thinking more paint-soaked splash bombs.”
Finger guns deployed, dual wielding. “I am so here for a paintball tag day in that case.  The flavored paint?”
“Not the scotch bonnet please,” Parvati begged. “I just know someone will get that in the face, I don’t care how much Else likes it.”
“Got it, no more pepper spraying people,” Charly agreed seriously. “OOO! I could test the new arrows out!  With something like buttered popcorn paint, obviously. Maybe kiwi on the other team.”
“Just limit the pull on the bows, okay? I don’t want anyone getting hurt.”
“Fiiiiine…”
Parvati smiled and added to her notes. “So, we probably want someone to correlate the current date to whatever the date would be on Earth… Just in case we need to get a consultant for Holi.”
“Good point. Conor is alarmingly good at that, so I can ask him.  It would be a nice cultural event if we could do that. If not, we can totally work on celebrating Holi when it comes around.”
“Final suggestion for right now, because I have to get back to work,” I sighed happily. “This is going to be the biggest ask, and the smallest at the same time…” Both nodded at me to continue. “Care packages, for everyone. And I mean everyone on the Ark.”
“Sophia,” Parvati scolded me. “That’s almost ten thousand people and sixteen animal companions.”
“Well aware,” I forged on, “We’ll talk to Sam about the bows, I can wrap them. Commission some of those really nice chocolates, or maybe some taffy from Simon. And something salty.  I know there is someone on the Ark who makes aromatherapy candles, Tyche is bananas about them.”
Shaking her head, she added it to the list. “If you insist on that, I insist on a celebration for the drop out of FTL.  Hannah and I can use some of the plans from the Food Festival, include Charly’s paint tag - “
“And Kink Night!”
“- and Kink Night, apparently… have several events going on across the Ark, since we already discussed declaring a holiday.”
“Get Bash’s permission to use the Undine again, and I won’t object,” I surrendered before standing. “On that note, I really do have to get back to work.  Come on, Vati, we have work to do apparently.”
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just-asks-and-beats · 3 years
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Land Ho!
Water. That was all Gray could see.. for soooo long. He just wanted to pass out. His body felt sluggish, it was getting harder by the minute to sit up straight, and his head was pounding. He tried to ignore it, but it really seemed like karma was beginning to catch up to him. It certainly didn’t help to be in the presence of Ship for the whole ride… they were too damn happy, too damn hug-y..? Is that even a word..? He didn’t know, didn’t care. He just wanted them to stop hopping around the ship hugging everyone and get to the volcano already. As a gentle sea breeze ruffled his cloak, he took a moment to let everything that was happening set in… Big mistake. He felt sick, guilt coming along with his realisations. Oh, how he didn’t want to have to face Barracuda.. but what other choice did he have!? What would everyone do to him if they found out who he really was…? He wished he’d died in that final fight.. he hardly even remembered what happened, just how much it hurt. Nobody had ever accepted him, and he was sure there were no chances at a happy life for him now. He’d ruined every chance he had. He let out a quiet sigh as he looked down at the water below…
Darkness. That was all Lycan- or Lichen? Was he still using the code-name? He didn’t remember… Anyway, it was dark. Way too dark. For soooo long. He hated being stuck as Gray’s body, it was getting hot being covered up in fabric the whole time! They wished Ship had a motorboat so they could just speed over to the volcano instead of this. It was hard to see, hard to breathe, and getting tiring holding Gray up. He wanted to complain about it, but alas, giving away both of their identities would mean quite a bit of trouble. He’d just have to complain to Barracuda when they got there. He began thinking of the volcano, how nice it would be to stay there again. Sure, his last visit ended in disaster, but it was the fun kind of disaster! He truly didn’t care about being corrupted, he just liked having the extra sass and slight power boost! Sure, they weren’t as much of a threat as they were when they’d first been corrupted, the treeangle shard greatly powering up the volcano, but they could still kick ass! He wondered how Bareacuda would react to seeing them both… a question entered his mind. Should he tell Barracuda that Gray is really Blixer…? Well, if Ship said he hadn’t been in a good mood lately, then the answer was probably no. He would just have to wait until Barracuda was feeling better to speak about it with him in private! …He hoped everything would go well when they arrived at the volcano…
The sea, the sky, the beautiful clouds, the shining sun, oh how Ship loved it. There was nothing better to them than setting sail, gazing out over the horizon… this “Gray” was quite the character. Gray top, blue bottom, they’d never seen another shape like him, but they certainly weren’t judging. They liked Gray, even if something about him seemed… off. They couldn’t quite place their finger on it, but they figured it best to let sleeping dogs lie, and let him live his own life without asking too many questions. Ship took out their telescope and pour it to their eye, getting a better look at everything. The telescope was a family heirloom, passed down through quite a few generations, and always kept on tip-top shape, just like their ships. As they gazed through the glass they took in a deep breath, letting out a hearty
“LAND HO!”
Gray had practically jumped right off Lycan- or Lichen? Were they still trying to convince everyone that sorry excuse for a lie was their name? He wasn’t sure. Anyway- he’d practically jumped right off their shoulders as Ship’s call rang out across the waters. He saw the volcano in the distance, quickly getting larger and larger. Finally.
Lichen sat up straight, fully alert. What was going on? He couldn’t see a thing and he felt too nervous to try and peek out.. Maybe the volcano was close! He really hoped so… luckily his guess was correct as he heard Ship began to speak about things like “droppin’ ye off ‘ere” and “dockin’ the boat”. He quickly told up, hiding his paws in the cook and holding onto Gray to keep him steady as he hopped out of the boat onto the volcano’s island.
“Alrighty, I hope everythin’ goes well for ye here, and I really hope ye can get that grumpy lad t’ be a bit more cheerful! I’m surprised he hasn’t “unleashed his wrath” on us yet! Well, maybe he just recognises ye! I wish ye the best o’ luck, I’ll be takin’ me leave now!” And with that, Ship began sailing away, leaving Gray on the island to try and help Barracuda. They waved to him as they sailed off.
“Ah, thank you ever so much for your generosity!” Lycan did his best to sound mature once again, speaking so Gray didn’t have to. He waved back where he’d heard Ship’s voice come from, hoping it was at least general the right direction, since he couldn’t see all too well. He heard Gray sigh.
“….Alright… let’s get goin’ I guess….” His voice sounded weak, and quieter than usual. Lichen felt a bit worried about the poor guy.. They peeked out of the cloak and began to walk towards the tunnel leading into the volcano. As they entered, Lycan finally looked out of the cloak completely, then kneeled down to Gray could get off of his shoulders. As Gray climbed down he really wasn’t really to hav to hold himself up completely on his own, and almost fell over, doing all he could to keep his legs from giving out entirely. He leaned against a wall of the cave, trying to be as nonchalant about everything as possible, but Lycan knew something was wrong.. Gray’s condition was getting worse.
“Uh.. you stay here! I’ll try to find Barracuda! I don’t think you’d do too well climbin around the rocks n stuff over the lava. I’m used to it though, or at least I was getting used to it when I was here for a bit… Whatever, I’ll be fine. See ya!” And with that he ran down the tunnel into the main area of the volcano.. Where was Barracuda? If he was apparently making such a fuss over here, then why wasn’t he there to greet them? Lycan scaled a rocky wall, climbing up to a ledge and jumping onto another rocky platform.
“HEY BARRACUDA!? I BET YA RECOGNISE MY ANNOYING VOOOIICE! DID YA MISS ME?” He called out, hoping for any kind of response.. Barracuda was the only one he knew that might be capable enough to help B- Gray without maybe also wanting to kill him. He needed to find him. He continued searching, leaping from place to place, his attention shifting more to the search than to his surroundings… He called out again to Barracuda, his voice echoing throughout the cavern. He hardly noticed a slight trembling of the rock beneath his feet. He walked to the ledge, ready to leap to a rocky wall and grab on when suddenly, just as he was about to jump, the rock broke beneath him. He yelped as his plunge to the lava below began. No! He didn’t want this to happen again, it hurt! He braced himself for the intense burning sensation when suddenly, he stopped! Something had grabbed him, a long tail of some sort curled around his torso, it’s grip tightening as he was slowly hoisted back up to a stable ledge. He gripped the ground below him, trembling slightly before shaking his head and trying to stand up… but he couldn’t. He noticed the tail was still tightly gripped around him… wait.. this is-!
“Just what do you think you’re doing here…?” A cold, stern voice asked. Lycan looked up to see none other than Barracuda glaring at him… suddenly he felt a lot more helpless. He stammered a bit before being cut off by one of Barracuda’s dramatic sighs. He pulled his tail closer to himself, bringing Lycan along with it. He took the time to inspect the pink splotches making their way into Lycan’s complexion.
“…I see the corruption hasn’t quite treated you well, has it? Let me guess, you’ve come to run from your problems..” His voice was calm, yet accusatory in a way. Lycan looked a bit uncomfortable, staring at the ground.
“…I.. I need your help.. we need your help. I have someone with me that.. isn’t doing too well.” He shrunk back as he noticed how infuriated Bareacuda looked.
“What do you think this volcano has become, a hospital!? Why do you think I would ever care about some stranger, and some annoying pup come to ruin my only chances as finding a sorry excuse for peace!?” Lycan gave a small whimper as Barracuda’s grip on him tightened as he got angrier, which seemed to make Barracuda let go of him altogether. He gave an almost apologetic look before curling his tail around himself and looking away.
“….Lycanthropy, I just want everyone to leave me alone. I have… much on my mind currently, and as you can tell i’m horribly irritable. So if you could just… leave. That would be ideal.” He tried to make “go away” sound a eloquent as possible.. Lycan seemed to get the message, but he had no other options.. he couldn’t leave.
“…I’m sorry for being so annoying and I promise I’ll try not to cause any trouble but please! Please let us stay, we don’t even have any way to leave and even if we go leave we have nowhere to go! Shapes started freaking out when they saw the pink growing back on me! And- and Gray is… I.. I’m worried he won’t last for much longer without any help and I don’t know what to do!” He looked at Bareacuda, desperate for any kind of look of pity. He got a flash of one, but Bareacuda quickly composed himself and returned his stern gaze.
“I have no help to give. I’m sorry. I can temporarily fix the bridge to this island so that you and this “Gray” may leave, but that. is. all.” Barracuda may be stubborn, but Lycan was too. He decided it was time for the final trick up his sleeve… the puppy eyes. He did his best to look as pitiful as possible, his big eyes shining as he did his best to convince Barracuda one final time to let them stay…. Eventually he got up, looking sadly at the way back down. He tearfully nodded as he climbed down, slowly making his way back to the tunnel where Gray was waiting. Barracuda felt… guilty. Did he really just deny a kid and someone who is potentially deathly ill from taking shelter here…? He didn’t want to think of himself as a bad person, but… this was certainly a new low. Oh how he hated this feeling, but… he couldn’t force Lycan and his friend to leave, his conscience would never recover.. He slowly slithered down, as he reached the bottom he used his magic to transform his serpentine bottom half back into normal legs. He ran into the tunnel after Lycan.
Gray has been sitting here alone for quite some time.. where was Lycan.. was he hurt…? He hoped not, he’d never forgive himself if he got this kid into even worse trouble… His head was foggy, thoughts swimming around and crashing into one another, he could hardly even stay awake. He didn’t notice the sound of footsteps approaching until Lycan was standing right in front of him, he sleepily looked up, slightly relieved to see him ok. Lycan began to speak to him… what was he saying…? Something about… Barracuda… guilt-tripping….? He had no idea what was going on… He noticed Lycan looked worried.. they knelt down in front of him and waved a hand in front of his face… what were they doing…? He just grunted and shook his head, he didn’t feel well.. Lycan backed off, but still seemed troubled as he stared at him. Then, Lycan looked over down the tunnel, he smiled a little and got up to greet someone… Gray did his best to see who it was…. it was Barracuda.. he really was here… he was staring at him, did he do something wrong…? He… wasn’t sure what expression Barracuda even had… he felt nervous, guilty… He felt so tired… Barracuda was here.. that was good…. he’d help… good… that means Gray could just… close his eyes… for a minute…
“D-DID HE JUST DIE!?” Lycan exclaimed, looking at Gray who practically just passed out. He looked over to Bareacuda for some kind of reassurance, but all he got was silence.. Barracuda was still staring at Gray, why? Was he that upset a stranger was here..? Lycan watched as Barracuda picked Gray up and walked away with him, taking the time to look back and make sure Lycan was following, which he was. Barracuda had changed his normal legs into a serpentine tail once again to scale the rocks, and had eventually lead Lycan through a small crevice, which lead into a larger cavern area, illuminated by a mixture of candles, lamps, and glowing mushrooms. Oddly enough, there was furniture here. There was a couch, a table and chairs, a laptop, and a whole bunch of boxes filled with all sorts of different things all neatly organised. There was a fire going, a pot hanging above it on a small rack, the smell coming from it made Lycan’s stomachs growl. He hadn’t eaten in a while and whatever was in there smelled great. Barracuda placed Gray down on the couch, grabbing a blanket and putting it over him, then going into the boxes and pulling out two bowls and spoons. He grabbed a ladle resting by the fire and used it to serve two bowl-fulls of a mushroom stew. He handed a bowl to Lycan, which quickly sat down at the table and began to scarf down his meal. He also took his bowl to the table and began eating in a much calmer manner. He looked up at Lycanthropy who clearly seemed to me enjoying the meal and slightly smiled to himself… maybe he could get use to these two idiots staying for a while..
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sweetestlamb · 3 years
Text
Call My Name
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Summary: “I don’t know what to do I think I’m falling for you.” 
Author's Note: Back with my longest update for this story, almost 10k!! I have only written that much for a chapter for IOTNBO, I’m so proud and excited. It’s thanks to many of you who have been messaging me to let me know how much you appreciate my story and those of you who are making artwork in any capacity based on my story, I am honored thank you!! I battled a lot with the ending but finally I just went with my gut, the characters wanted to act this way and who am I to fight it? I hope you enjoy and I will see you again in the next chapter! Amazing header by @ewolfwitchwisegirl every time I see it I can’t help but smile. Thank you endlessly. 
She checks the time on her phone again, for no particular reason just curious about how much time has passed since she last checked. Five minutes. Interesting, she'll make sure to check again to see if her hypothesis is correct, that time seems to move slower in Ju-Kyung's house it feels as if they have been sitting here for hours yet her phone is displaying something completely different and there has to be a scientific explanation for that.
"You acted like you didn't want him to have your phone number but now you won't stop checking your phone." Su-ah teases across the room, hanging upside with her feet on the wall as her fingers move across her own endlessly buzzing phone. She's not jealous about that, not at all.
"I don't know what you're talking about. I was just checking the time." She replies coolly pushing the phone away from her with complete disinterest. 
She states blankly back at twin penetrating stares of disbelief, rolling her eyes she lowers her head onto the table picking at the skin on her index finger.
"I told you to stop doing that!" Ju-Kyung admonishes grabbing her hands and halting her abuse, they are hideous to look at the skin peeling all over no amount of lotion can rectify the damage she's done. They are one of the reasons she loves winter, she has a bounty of gloves to hide them from view. Self-consciously she tries to twist them away, they look even worst next to the soft plush skin of Ju-Kyung, who consistently moisturizes the appendages.
"Just leave them. They're ugly anyway."
The other girl ignores her bringing out the hand cream she's seen so many times, she simply sighs when the thick lotion is rubbed into her brittle skin. They both know that this is pointless because she'll soon wash away any benefits but Ju-Kyung is always persistent and she's given up on fighting with her. With a light pat and triumphant hum, Ju-Kyung releases her.
"There. Don't they look beautiful?"
They don't. Out of all the things she hates about herself and that lists grows more abundant everyday, her hands are high on the list. They make her feel hideous and as if anything she touches will also lose its beauty. A twisted nightmare inducing Midas touch.
She doesn't reply beyond shoving them into the pocket of her blazer.
"Su-jin?" Su-ah calls from behind her, sounding more serious than she's used to. She tightens in anticipation, barely turning her head.
"Are you okay? I've been giving you space but I want to know what's wrong. What happened at school?"
Her chest constricts painfully, she's not ready for this conversation possibly will never be but if she refuses will they shut her out? Will she be abandoned? Fear rushes through her veins at the very idea of being without them.
She forces herself to speak, "I...its-- what....I"
The words are lodged in her throat choking her until it's hard to breathe, she starts wheezing and then she's wrapped up in a tight hug, her last bit of oxygen squeezed from her body.
"Shhhh. It's okay. We love you, don't cry." Su-ah coos at her, stroking her head and mumbling soothing words into her ear. Ju-Kyung wipes away ardent tears she hadn't realized had fallen, her smooth hands soft on Su-jin’s wet skin.
"I can't. I'm sorry, not yet. Please don't go." For once she says exactly what's in her heart, people leave that's her reality but not them, she can't lose them death would be easier. So she begs tightening her once limp arms around Su-ah's small waist, clinging to the other girl like a weeping child. Her father has stolen everything she's ever loved from her, they couldn’t be another casualty.
"We're not going anywhere. We love you, no matter what. Nothing could change that."
She allows Su-ah to rock her back and forth, deep in her heart she knows those words aren't true, feelings change and once they figure out her secret, this love will fade and they'll grow apart; pity is the kiss of death. Once they know how truly pathetic she is they won't be able to look at her, she'll just be a broken doll that needs to be fixed.
"We love you."
Sure, but for how long?
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Becoming Sujin's friend wasn't easy she can remember the day she first saw the abnormally beautiful girl, she looked like a character out of a Korean drama with her perfect round face and effortless style. She'd simply stared in awe, too dazed to approach the other girl. When they crossed paths in the hallway she watched the other girl intently, she decided in that moment they had to be friends.
It was like destiny, they ended up in the same class and she started to follow the other girl around smiling warmly every time those cool eyes would look at her in question. She sat near her in the cafeteria and greeted her every morning, yet she was no closer to becoming her friend still skirting the edge of acquaintance.
Then one day out of the blue for the first time the other girl approached her, her face expressionless but the air around her was frigid. She gulped watching her draw nearer until they were face to face.
"What do you want from me?" She blinked at the unexpected question, rolling it over in her mind and still not coming up with an answer.
"What?" Was her eloquent reply, she was finally having a conversation with her dream friend and she couldn't get her thoughts together.
"You're always following me. Do you want something from me?"
She thought it was blatantly obvious what she desired from the other girl but she smiled before replying, "Friendship. I want to be your friend."
She'd never seen the other girl look confused before, her eyes got wider and her lips almost disappeared from how tightly she was twisting her mouth.
"Why?"
Her first reaction was to laugh because it sounded like a joke, who wouldn't want to be Sujin's friend she was one of the smartest and prettiest girls in the school but something about the look on her face told Su-ah those answers wouldn't suffice. The other girl was peering at her with deep searching eyes, waiting for her response.
Shrugging she didn't overthink her reply, choosing not to list the many reasons and going with the most basic, "I like you."
It was her first platonic confession, she almost blushed at the words and the potential misunderstandings but Sujin simply looked at her before walking away without another word. She sighed thinking she'd scared the other girl away, walking home crestfallen.
But the next day, Sujin said good morning to her first for the first time ever and they walked to class and as they say the rest was history, they became each other's confidant and best friend. Sujin, the first person to know about her crush on Tae-hoon, always there to wipe her tears after their countless break ups.
Su-jin is like a sister and that is why her breakdown feels even worst, she doesn't know what's going on, has never seen her best friend cry before. Su-jin isn't one to be open about her emotions, her smiles are as elusive as her tears. So her heart aches as Sujin shakes in her arms, wishing she knew what was hurting the girl this deeply so she could rescue her.
"I'll go wash my face." She's reluctant to let the other girl go but she knows the intricacies of her brilliant mind, knows that she's embarrassed and mentally ripping herself apart. Unwrapping her arms she lets her go, tears pooling in her eyes watching her friend suffer. 
Quickly brushing the moisture away she turns to Ju-Kyung who isn't faring much better, dark mascara lines dripping down her cheeks. She laughs sadly wiping at the marks with her thumbs before pulling her fingers back and wiping them on her jacket.
"I'm sorry I'm crying, I know we need to be strong for her." Ju-Kyung apologizes but more stubborn tears rolls down her face and she hugs her tightly, needing the comfort herself.
"You're allowed to cry. We'll be there for her until she's ready to tell us what's wrong."
They nod and hug each other weeping for their friend who so solemnly weeps for herself.
It shocks them both when a loud vibration penetrates the silence of the room, the noisy disturbance makes them jump apart before they both glance at the phone on the table before looking at each other.
"Do you think it's...."
"What if it's.."
They speak at the same time and that's the exact moment that the door creaks open and Sujin arrives with red-rimmed eyes her hair now pulled back in a low ponytail.
Su-ah looks at the phone with wide eyes before looking at Sujin, then back to the phone before smiling innocently, "You should check the time."
Sujin doesn't react at first, standing completely still before she takes a hesitant step forward as if the phone has transformed into a bomb. Gingerly lifting it up she wipes go unlock the screen, trying to look unbothered her movements exaggeratedly slow. Su-ah sees right through her, sees the way her fingers twitch and how she takes a deep breath before opening the message.
She watches Sujin's face for a reaction, a smile or frown but there's no reaction until she huffs and throws the phone away with a sharp whisper, "That idiot. What the hell is that?"
Without asking for permission, they know each other's passwords there isn't much privacy between the three of them, she picks up the discarded phone, eyes bulging at the message before she starts to giggle. It was exactly who they thought and his first message to her is an image and the words, saw this and thought of you.
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She grins at the message, wondering if Seojun knows how flirty the message reads. He'd openly let Sujin know that she was on his mind. She'd spontaneously decided to save Sujin under that name in his phone Ju-Kyung had told her about their interesting conversation and the pet name, then he used it again at the gate and she couldn't resist. What girl didn't like being called a princess?
"If he calls me that one more time I'm going to break his motorcycle." She winces at the threat, shifting her eyes. Okay, it seemed there was one girl.  She needs to tell Seojun to never mention to Sujin that she was the one to save her under "princess" she had helped him get her number after all, they were practically friends now. He couldn’t throw her under the bus. 
"Are you going to answer?" He wants to know if you want him to buy it for you." She giggles at the new message gasping when Sujin snatches the phone from her hands, she looks over at Ju-Kyung with a raised eyebrow at the show. They both watch with conspiring smiles as the commonly emotionless girl angrily throws herself into the bed and starts animatedly tapping on her screen.
She's never looked more alive.
It's the universe righting itself when she hears Ju-Kyung's mother yell up the stairs.
"Ju-Kyung, tell your friend Su-jin her father is here to pick her up."
Ju-Kyung's mother says the words upbeat, mumbling about doting fathers and harshly hitting her husband on the back of his head as she wonders to the kitchen. She schools her face into a plastic smile, despite the fear gripping at her and making it hard to focus. But she can't show any cracks in her display today, too much has happened and she can't allow anyone to be suspicious. They have to believe that her father is a loving man who picks up his daughter out of the goodness of his heart.
He almost looks normal smiling serenely in the doorway, even lifting a hand to wave at her. Cold ice chills run down her spine at the terrifying action.
"Why didn't you tell your mother and I you were going to a friend's house? We were worried sick about you."
She can hear the threat coded in those words, how dare you go anywhere without my permission, she rushes to his side knowing every minute she wastes he will punish her for. She'd inconvenienced him by making him pick her up. He would make her regret that decision.
Bowing to Ju-Kyung and her family, avoiding Su-ah's watchful eyes she rapidly puts on her shoes watching as her father bows as well thanking Ju-Kyung's parents for allowing her to stay so late and when they turn he grips her tightly all but dragging her out the door. His coat blocks the treatment from view and she grunts when he swings the car door open and tosses her roughly inside.
Slamming his door shut he glares over at her, "Do you know how hard it was finding this dirty shit hole of a house? Are you befriending anyone now? This is the kind of person you've deemed worthy of being seen with, you're a Kang for God's sake!"
She swallows her angry, desperately wanting to defend Ju-Kyung but his hands curled tightly in fists make her stifle her argument. Instead she bows her head quietly, letting him spew acid dripping words at her.
"You're not allowed to come here again. My daughter can't be seen with the help."
She anxiously claws at her hands in her lap, jumping when he yells in the confined space of the car.
"Answer me now! Do you understand!"
Staring out the window she replies, voice empty.
"Yes."
He doesn't wait for her to tug on her seat belt before driving off, done talking to her since she listened to his order.
When they finally walk through the front door she flinches when he grabs her arm suddenly, he rolls his eyes as if she's being dramatic. Seeming to get gratification from pressing his fingers deeper into her skin, she grits her teeth through it all.
"Don't flinch like that around others or I'll make you regret it. Tomorrow you are going on a date with a son of a very powerful man, make sure you hide all your bruises."
This time she can't stay silent, rage bursting to the surface.
"I don't want to go on a date with anyo--"
The smack of his open palm across her forehead drives her entire head to the side, her neck snapping so hard she imagines this is what it feels like to have whiplash.
"You shut your fucking mouth! Did it look like I was asking you a question? You will go on this date." His voice is hard and impenetrable, when her mother limps out with a black eye she gasps in shock unprepared for the gruesome sight.
Mom.
"Look what you made me do to your mother. You better start obeying me again or things will get worst."
She's been selfish, she is knew what would happen to her mother when she didn't come home, knew that her father's fury would need an outlet but she couldn't bring herself to come here. Knowing what her fate would be didn't make her any else scared.
"You need to listen to your father."
She can't bear to look her mother in the eyes, she's been thrown to the wolves too many times to feel true sympathy for the woman who gave birth to her. They are both victims, that much she knows but she can't help the anger that has been present since she was young begging her mother to save her.
She knows now, nobody can save anyone else. If you can't save yourself you're as good as dead.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
He knows he can't be upset with Ju-Kyung or Su-ah, they are unaware of what their friend is going through but dread fills his stomach when Ju-Kyung tells him that Sujin was no longer there, her father had picked her up.
He slams a fist into his pillow, wanting nothing more to smash the man's face in he's never seen the bastard before but he knows that he would hate him on sight. He was a coward and a bully and he could not stand those who picked on others, they were the scum of the earth.
He sends her another unanswered text message reading her last message to him.
Delete my number, I don't want to talk to you.
She hadn't been amused by the sparkly purple tiara, he'd seen it on display in a children's store and immediately her regal scowl popped up in his mind. He hadn't thought about it before snapping a photo and sending it to her. That had been hours ago and still nothing from her after a heated debate about whether or not she was a princess. 
Sighing in exasperation he sends another message.
Let me know if you're okay.
He's sent five other unread messages, all variations of this message worry making him break all his rules about texting the opposite gender.
He glares at the phone as if it's to blame, tossing himself onto this bed and dragging a pillow across his face to groan into.
Almost choking on the cloth of his pillow he shoves it away when his phone finally vibrates on his stomach, eagerly opening it he smiles at the message on the screen.
I'm okay.
She's lying, he's certain of that he's seen the bruises first-hand without makeup lessening the effect. But she's cognizant enough to send him a message and despite the hell she must be going through she cared enough about him worrying to reply, something unfamiliar flutters in his belly. He writes it off as indigestion and flops into his pillow before sending his final message to her.
I’ll see you tomorrow, princess. 
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
He's wondering the halls aimlessly sneering at everyone who looks his way, he doesn't mean to be this moody really didn't mean to snap at Chorong but he can't help it, Sujin is absent her empty seat mocking him in class so he had to escape. He's lost count at the amount of messages he's sent at this point, none of them have been read. He growls at the radio silence, he hates being ignored and when she's the one doing the ignoring his frustration only builds. He doesn't bother analyzing why.
"You look ready to kill the next person who stares at you the wrong way."
He glances at the near monotonous tone behind him, turning to face Suho. He doesn't know how the other boy was allowed to leave the classroom when he currently has the hall pass but rules are usually broken for the star student, he scoffs at the privilege. Nobody ever calls him a troublemaker though. 
"Being a brainiac sure comes with perks." He drawls leaning against the wall.
Suho guiltlessly shrugs, crossing his forearms before grabbing his arm. He doesn't fight the grip allowing himself to be pulled, maybe this will distract him from his thoughts.
"Where are we going?"
Suho doesn't answer but he drags him up the stairs leading to the rooftop, he's instantly reminded of the last time he was here. Her tears warming his chest as she shook apart in his arms. He mentally groans, he’s supposed to be forgetting her why can’t he get her out of his mind?
"You know don't you?" Suho gently states, letting his arm fall between them and staring at him with sure eyes. He peers back squinting in response, uncertain if the other boy is truly alluding to what he thinks. He doesn't say a word, Sujin would never forgive him if he uttered her secret to anyone, he'd never betray her trust regardless of if she's fully given that to him.
"Know what?" He states slowly , watching his friend’s every move.
"About her father."
A deer caught in headlights, if you looked up that saying his face would be the accompanying image.
Forcing his jaw close, he shakes his head staring at Suho suspiciously.
"You knew."
Suho must feel his judgement because his face hardens before he looks away, "I did."
"Why didn't you do anything?" It's not his place but he can't help his vexation, how long had the other boy known and done nothing?
"We were......young. I slept over, I fell asleep on the couch and I heard him. The next morning she had a split lip and her father told me she accidentally fell down the stairs."
Disgusts winds through his chest at the story, this had been her life since she was a child. While he'd been mourning the loss of his own father, Sujin was being beaten and abused by her own. They were both fatherless.
"I felt guilty every day. I didn't know who to tell, her father was close friends with my dad and I didn't think he would believe me and...... I hated him. After my mom died I hated him so much. I didn't want to ask him for help."
He wants to scream, "What about Sujin? Couldn't you see her pain? Wasn't that enough to put your pride aside?"
But he doesn't because it won't do Sujin any good and Suho has been through his own trauma, he learned that his words have power and despite his anger he doesn't want to hurt his friend, never again.
"It's not your fault." He means it, they were both children. But he just wishes that Sujin had someone back them, that she knew that what was happening wasn't her fault. He just wishes he'd been there.
But he can't turn back time, no matter how desperately he wants to. All he can do is treasure the time he has now.
Her knows what he needs to do.
"I need a favor."
Suho stares at him before slowly nodding.
But not before asking his own question, "Why do you care so much?"
He opens his mouth but nothing comes out. The question spins around in circles in his head, no answer offering itself.
"Do you..... like her?" Suho cautiously inquires searching his face to see if he gives anything away. He doesn't try to hide his emotions.
"That's not important. She needs someone, I've decided to be that person."
The other boy looks at him like he's a puzzle he can't figure out but he nods as if that answer is enough. He'll store that question away for further inspection on his own.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
There's no guarantee that this will work but he stands awkwardly on the sidewalk peering up at the intimidating mansion, it makes his own apartment look like a child's toy. Inadequacy pricks at his ego before he shoves it to the crevice of his mind, this isn't about him.
The driveway is empty that was a good sign. He hadn't thought ahead to what he would do if her father had been home, he wouldn't be able to control his rage. It's a blessing that he won't have to make that decision today.
Pulling out his phone he stares at her number before pressing the call button. It rings and rings and he's sure she's going to ignore him as she's been doing all day, he moves to hang up and call her back when he hears silence and then a quiet, "Why do you keep calling?"
He lets out a sigh of triumph, punching a fist into the air.
Collecting himself he states breezily into the phones, "When people call someone they usually have something to say princess."
Her reaction is immediate, "I told you not to call me that."
"I remember when you told me." He replies cheekily, unable to fight the smile that grows hearing her annoyance permeating through the line, just happy to hear her voice at all. 
"Then why do you keep calling me that?" She tightly replies, sounding like she could turn a coal into a diamond in her mouth.
"It suits you."
"Why? Because I'm rich and spoiled?"
"No. Because you're pretty." He hears himself say, wondering if he's been possessed because he's thought that before looking at the girl he was still a man and he had eyes but he's never planned on saying his inner thoughts out loud.
It takes a moment to realize she hasn't responded, scared she finally hung up he cries out, "Hey! Are you still there?"
Another long pause drags out and he becomes really worried that she's gone after taking so long to get her to answer, maybe everyone's right and he's an idiot.
"Don't say stupid things like that." There's something about her voice, it sounds higher than he's used to and he wonders if maybe she's embarrassed. Maybe even blushing. He'd pay real money to see that sight.
Not wanting to push his luck any further he powers on, resisting the urge to ask if she's blushing. She wouldn't be honest with him anyway.
"Come outside I have something for you."
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
She contemplates what she should do as she peers down at her phone. His name and number flash on her phone as the phone locks itself. She'd begrudgingly saved his number when it became clear that he had no intention of leaving her alone. Nobody besides Su-ah had ever texted her this frequently, she was earning scarily that she didn't hate it. Although she hardly replied, not knowing how to maintain a text conversation. 
Su-ah had teasingly said she should save the boy as prince, so that they could match. She rolled her eyes at the suggestion, Su-ah was so cheesy sometimes they weren't a couple why would they need matching names? Instead she'd saved him as "do not answer" but she'd already broken that rule, she realized appalled at her lack of control.
Losing more control she sighs before crawling out of bed, not bothering to put on makeup to hide the mark on her forehead, he had seen worst. Her father left after taking her to the doctor, regaling another story of her clumsiness and they walked out with cream, powerful enough to ensure that no scar would be left behind. Nobody wanted scarred goods he explained.
The closer she gets to the door the faster her heart beats, how did he know where she lived? They had never discussed that and why did he come all the way here? Didn't he have anything better to do than stalk her? Taking a calming breath she reaches the front door, she can hear her frantic heart beats thumping in her ears.
She turns the door knob, pausing at the sight of his back. The sun is shining brightly outside, the direct opposite of her gloomy dark home. It was a sin for the day to be this beautiful when her life is so damn ugly. With the sun streaking his hair hues of dark brown he turns to face her.
She feels uncomfortable at the rush on emotions that bleeds across his face.
"Don't."
He looks at her quizzically, perplexed by her strange seemingly unprovoked request.
"Just don't.. emote so much."
Of course he doesn't listen, a smile stretching across his face as he steps closer to her. Reaching out with gentle fingers he brushes against the bandage on her forehead.
"Are you okay?"
He’s always asking her that. 
She doesn't feel like lying at the moment, not with his gentle hands and soft eyes beaming at her.
She mutely shakes her head in decline. She doesn't miss how he freezes as if shocked by her honesty. He's not the only one.
"Is that why you didn't come to school?" His voice is barely a whisper now, as if they're sharing a secret only for their ears.
It's a question that doesn't need an answer so she chooses not to respond.
"What did you want to give me?" She breaks the moment, taking a step back until his fingers fall from her skin.
He stares at her for a moment before leaning forward, dangerously close and she tries to retreat but her feet are stuck to the floor as she watches his face get closer to her own. His hands reach over her shoulder and she tilts her head up to follow him, as he lowers his head and her heart skips as realization washes over her, he's going to kiss her. His lips are right there, supple and pink looming closer as her own drop open in surprise and....anticipation? She registers that he's going to kiss her and she might want him to. No. She does, she never knew she wanted this so ardently until it was just a breath away. And now she can't think of anything else but his lips on hers.
She's never been kissed before, never wanted to be either. In second grade and unlucky boy had tried to force a kiss on her, chasing her around the playground puckering his lips and tugging at her skirt. He'd only been able to kiss the sole of her shoe has she launched into a perfectly executed round house kick, shocking him more than hurting him but she'd been placed in time out for a week with no playtime or recess, she had felt no remorse. All the other boys who used to eye her with interest now looked terrified after that incident, no one ever tried to steal a kiss from her again.
She waits for her body's natural defense to kick in and for that itch under her skin to buzz, but it never comes because she doesn't feel unsafe. Knows that he won't hurt her despite her constant dismissal here he is, once again demanding a space in her sham of life. Instead of fear, nerves ravages her body as she  pants loudly staring at his mouth only inches away. Is she allowed to want? She's never had the luxury before to desire such trivial things, it overwhelms her. Shocked by her own thinking and the dawning of feelings she didn't ask to have, she scurries backwards covering her mouth with her hands. Now that she knows that she desires this, she can't have it. She can't taint him with her darkness.
"What are you doing?"
He's smirking with a bag now in his hand intensely watching her and she feels transparent, he's looking straight through her and urge to hide is overbearing.
Turning around she sees his motorcycle and she almost laughs at her unnecessary mental break down.
He hadn't been trying to kiss her. That was merely a fantasy she created in her mind, whatever this was it wasn't romantic. Who could want something as broken and worthless as her, but more importantly her life was not her own to do what she desired. She was an object in her father's plan, a pawn that he could move as he saw fit. It was a mistake to yearn or even ponder, her fate had been decided long before she was born. 
She shouldn't be here, should have never read his message or saved his number she's playing a dangerous game and in the end she'll be the one most damaged. She turns away, rushing to the door no longer curious about his gift. Curiosity is a privilege she isn't allowed.
"Hey! Where are you going?" He grabs her wrist, not scared to touch today. Her body is burning from all the spots he's already set aflame since he arrived.
"Let go!" She tugs her arm away and he sets her free at her barest resistance, but he leaves no space between towering over her and refusing to let her break eye contact. His cologne is distracting. Everything about him is.
"What were you expecting?" She fights the urge to blush as he glances down at her lips before focusing on her eyes.
"Nothing. I wasn’t expecting anything.” She will ensure that she doesn’t in the future, it’s not a lie but rather an oath to herself. 
He stares at her unblinking, its unnerving and she squirms under the hard appraisal. 
“Don’t you want to see your gift?” She shakes her head no, but it seems the question was rhetoric because he doesn’t wait for her answer or acknowledge when she refuses.  
“I told you this reminded me of you.” He purrs softly, she’s never heard his voice like this. It’s so soft that it can barely be considered a whisper, he always acts like she is something fragile. She doesn’t know how to feel about it. 
There's a rustle of a bag opening and then a weight on her head, reaching up she feels hard plastic and ridges and bumps. She knows what it is and she doesn't know how to respond, nothing has ever prepared her for this moment. She’d hidden it well while sitting in Ju-Kyung’s room looking at the child’s tiara, pretended to be annoyed to cover up the way her skin was sticky hot and sweaty. 
When she was younger she had wanted a princess birthday party, with all the trimmings and decorations her eyes sparkled as she told her parents still full of hope and innocence then, believing that she could have anything she wanted if she asked. Her father’s guffaw had shattered that fantasy. 
“We will not have a childish gathering, very important people will be there. You are not going to embarrass me.” 
In the end there was no theme to her birthday and she didn’t get to wear the sparkling tiara she’d seen so many other little girls don on their birthday, she had no friends to invite and she sat alone and abandoned in her room. 
And now, years later there is almost an identical replica sitting on her head. She sniffles looking hard at the ground, blinking rapidly but knowing it’s already too late. 
“I told you to stop. Why won’t you listen? Just stop.” She’s crying now, there’s no way to hide the tears barreling down her cheeks. He looks taken back, hands reaching out for her and then dropping before reaching again. 
“Sujin.”
Hearing him say her name instead of the persistent nickname only makes her sob harder, crying for the younger version of herself that just wanted to be loved and was beaten everyday instead. Wishing that Sujin had this, had someone who was willing to stay, who wanted to be there. She wouldn’t have dealt with such crippling loneliness. 
“I have to go back inside.” She turns to unlock her door, scared of him and everything building between them. 
He doesn’t stop her this time, she can feel his eyes heavy on her back and she halts when he calls out. 
“Just.....don’t ignore my messages okay?”
She inhales, wiping at the wet sheet of tears on her face. She should ignore him, he is “do not answer” for a reason. 
She nods slowly, “I won’t.” The scariest part is that she means it. 
“Good. Come to school tomorrow, it’s boring without you.” 
She doesn’t reply and closes the door without turning back, using it has support when her legs finally give out inside. All of her strength suddenly depleted. 
She walks straight to her room, sitting at her large vanity looking back at a reflection of a girl she can't recognize.
The purple tiara sits ridiculously on top of her head, all flashy plastic rhinestones and glitter, something out of a child's dream. Her dream.  She brings one trembling finger to touch it and without her permission her face breaks into a smile, it's small and fleeting but accompanied with the rosy blush on her cheeks she stares in shock at the face that looks so much like her but can't be.
"Who are you?"
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Seojun slips on his helmet roughly, he plans on texting her and making sure she keeps her promise. His heart is still recovering from her reaction to retrieving the gift, it was apparent she assumed something else was occurring. It almost looked like she thought he was going to kiss her but she hadn’t moved away, not right away. Did that mean..... 
The engine of a sounds behind him shocks him out of his dangerous inklings and he twists his head to see sleek SUV pulling into the hidden garage, the metallic door lifting up to house the vehicle. He doesn’t move, eyes locked on the car. Hands tightening on the armbars he waits impatiently but determined. When the door finally opens and an older man steps out, shorter than him with salt and pepper hair and glasses on his weathered face his blood boils all at once. 
“Can I help you? Do you have business here?” 
Taking a deep grounding breath, he slides a leg over his motorcycle and revs it to life the rumbling engine calming his homicidal thoughts. 
He will never forget this face, he looks like a normal middle-aged man nothing revealing the evil that lurks inside. Menacingly he slowly raises his hand, extending his pointer and lifting his thumb, darkly satisfied when a look of surprise flashes on the older man's face.
"Bang." He pulls back his finger sharply, and now the man is walking angrily towards him but he's ready for this and he twists the throttle and speeds off.
You're not going to hurt her anymore, I'll make sure if it.
The bike thundering beneath him echoes the powerful intent in his mind.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Her father’s pounding on her door shocked her so much the tiara fell off her head as she jolted, she'd carefully picked it up and hid it in a draw fiercely protective of the object already. She knew she shouldn’t keep it but she can’t imagine throwing it away. 
Just for a little bit. 
"You're meeting someone tomorrow, you'll go right after school. Stop at a store and buy an outfit, something fitting for a date. His father is someone I need on my side, don't mess this up."
She'd sat numb at her father's callous words, he clearly had no issue using his only child to gain favors from others.
"Oh and one more thing, I saw some delinquent outside he even threatened me. You better not know who that punk is. If I ever see him around here again I'll call the police."
That comment has been replaying in her mind all day, he shouldn't have come over yesterday and she shouldn't have humored him by going outside. She kept forgetting rationality around him and it would get them both in danger, her father had all but promised that.
After some careful consideration, she decides to seek him out because school is the safest place they can interact without her father knowing.
He's not in the classroom and she tries to think about where else the boy might be, he's usually never too far from her and she realizes that she hasn't seen him today besides their morning classes. He'd seemed distant then, barely looking at her before drooping off to sleep.
After searching the entire school she's no closer to finding the boy and she sighs in exasperation, why is he so elusive today when she commonly can't get him to leave her alone?
Pulling out her phone, she hesitates for a second before mustering the courage.
Where are you?
Staring at the message she clicks the heel of her shoe, watching the message change from delivered and to read. Her stomach clenches as she waits to see his response, maybe he's already tired of her and finally decided to listen to her advice?
Hating the way her heart thumps in anticipation she moves to pocket her phone but before she can complete the movement, it vibrates to life in her hand.
She freezes.
It's foolish because she sent the first message and she's looking for him but now she's too nervous to check her phone.
Thinking of the soothing beating of his heart on that day, she feels her own heart calming.
Feeling fortified, she lifts the phone and with a sigh opens the message.
In the gym. Why? You miss me?
Is this what this emotion is? This gnawing feeling in her chest when she couldn't find him, it can't be right? They are nothing to each other, correction she's nothing to him.
So no, she can’t miss him. 
She clears her thoughts as she walks to the gym, wondering why she never considered looking there.
Sweat and musk clings in the air when she presses the double doors open and all eyes shift to her instantly, slipping on her mask she suppresses the nerves lurking behind her placid stare.
Meeting his eyes across the room, she can't help but notice how sweaty he looks his fringe sticking to his forehead and a droplet rolls down his forearm. Swallowing deeply she closes the gap between them, peering up at him. Discomforted at the way she feels when he slowly smiles at her.
"We need to talk." She doesn't wait for his answer, grabbing his wrist and tugging him from the room. Pretending she doesn't feel all the eyes watching their every movement, everyone needs to just mind their own business.
When they're outside, away from the audience she releases his arm. His heat warming her own cool palm. Suddenly he grabs her hand, twisting them and stroking at the raw shredded skin.
She snatches her hand away harshly, glaring at him. But his angry stare douses her own, a thick vein protrudes from his forehead.
"Did he do this to you? He growls, his fists tightening into balls again.
She stares at him in confusion, unprepared for the level of frustration he's exuding.
Feeling like honestly will be the best thing she shakes her head in decline, "No. I did this to myself."
Disgust. Malice. Contempt. She waits for any of those emotions to cover his face but he's never logical.
"Why?"
Concern. Always genuine concern.
She's never thought of the reason behind her strange compulsion, the desire to wash her hands overwhelming at times.
She's not ready to ponder the psychosis of her actions, not with him and not with herself.
"Did you see my father yesterday?" She changes the topic, regaining control over the conversation before he derails it too far off track.
His lips twists illustrating his displeasure at her obvious attempt to dodge his question but he looks away before replying.
"Yes. After you left, I saw him."
"Did he see your face?"
His eyes dart over her face, as he's searching for an answer to a question only he knows. 
Slowly he drawls, "No. I had my helmet on. He didn't see me."
The same moment she releases a sigh of relief he cheekily asks, "Were you worried about me?"
Staring at his smirking face she feels her anger flare back to life passionately.
“Do you think this is a joke? He can destroy you! Stop acting without thinking about the consequences!” She whispers harshly at him, very aware of their precarious situation in the hallway and how easily rumors can spread in this god forsaken school. 
“You are worried about me.” He looks even more pleased as he nods smugly. 
“Are you insane? Did you listen to a word I said. Seojun, this isn’t a joke!” 
He steps closer, eyes harden sharply like someone flipped a switch. “You don’t need to worry about me. He can’t do anything to me, I’m going to protect you.”
Protect her. No one has ever uttered those words to her, and she lets them wash over her before rejecting them, sneering at him with contempt at his brazen claim she says, “Stop saying nonsense. You need to worry about yourself.” 
She walks away with her heart firmly lodged in her throat. 
I’m going to protect you. 
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Ju-Kyung and Su-ah are disappointed when she tells them that she can’t go with them for tteokbokki but they don’t ask her too many questions, easily believing her lie about going to night classes. She hates lying to them but there’s no way to explain what she’s doing without exposing too much about her father. 
She rushes out of the school thankfully running into no one, not even a certain nosy shadow. He’s shrouded by his friends and girls who swoon at the sight of him looking in disdain she leaves the school, reminding herself this is how it’s supposed to be. 
The boutique is expensive, a store associate greeting her at the door and showing her around immediately as if she can smell the money on her. She couldn’t care less about what she wears and she informs the clerk to choose whatever she thinks is appropriate for a date, the word poisonous on her tongue. It’s her first date and it’s with someone she has no amorous feelings for, someone she has never even met before. She walks out of the store with her uniform folded neatly in a bag as she decided to walk out in the new outfit. The clerk had chosen a soft lilac dress with chiffon ruffles lining the hem and shoulders, paired with a white heels and a matching bag. She allowed it because it felt nothing like her, she would have never chosen this for a date and that made her feel like she got to keep a little bit of herself, he wouldn’t be getting the real her. 
She checks the address on her phone once more, walking to the street corner to hail a cab feeling like she’s off to an execution. 
But that’s when she hears a feminine cry, looking around frantically she sees a young girl across the street surrounded by a pack of hungry wolves, high school boys. They are all laughing and rowdy, seemingly unbothered by the terrified wide gaze of their supposed prey. The cab driver beeps his horn at her impatiently and she ignores it, instinctively making her decision. Running across the street with no thought of her own safety, she smacks away a dirty paw that is reaching out for the trembling girl, her eyes made larger by the huge glasses resting on the bridge of her pert nose. She seems oddly familiar. 
“What are you scum bags doing?” She steps in front of the girl shielding her from their unwanted attention. 
They all cheer and holler, turning to jostle each other as if they have been given a gift. 
With a smarmy smile, one of the boys steps forward pursuing her body with hungry eyes, “Well look here boys, we caught an ever better catch. Look at this sexy little thing.” 
He grabs his palms together as they all shout in agreement and when she feels a hand on her wrist, she twists away pulling herself out her reach and swiftly kicks him in the knee he falls to the ground with a grunt of pain. 
“What the fuck! You bitch!” He curses at her and another boy lunges forward to grab her but she easily ducks out of his reach and punches in in the chest. The other boys watch in clear astonishment, slowly retreating from her with their hands outreached trying to placate her. 
“Hey, hey we’re sorry we were just messing with her. We’re going okay, calm down.” 
But then she feels a hand on her ankle and she turns to dig her sharp heel into the offending hand, his scream of pain ringing pleasantly in her ears. 
“Get out of my sight before I break your face.” 
They all rush to follow her order, picking up their fallen friends on the ground hurling more curses in her direction but leaving with their tails between their legs, pathethic little vermin. 
“Are you okay?” She turns to the younger girl with gentle eyes, looking over her body for any injuries and relaxing when she sees nothing out of place. 
“Ye-s-s.” She stutters out looking at her with something akin to wonder and awe in her eyes, she shifts uncomfortably under the stare. She isn’t anyone’s hero, she just did what anyone would do. 
“Okay. Get home safely. “ She starts to walk away but then a small hand grips her forearm, turning back with curious eyes she looks at the other girl waiting for her to explain. 
“Thank you. This is the second time you’ve saved me.” 
She looks at the other girl in confusion, taking in her face and those glasses and suddenly the memory resurfaces in her mind. The girl’s bathroom and all those jealous girls ganging up on her, breaking her down because she was better than them she hated those people the worst. Bullies that were so insecure that they lashed out and tried to hurt others, she had grown up seeing one her whole life. 
“That was you.”
“You’re always saving me. Thank you so much.’ 
Shaking her head she replies, “I wasn’t the one who saved you that day. It as Ju-Kyung, I only came at the end. You don’t need to thank me.” 
But the other girl ignores her and begins to bow deeply repeating her words of gratitude, she reaches out to bring her back up. 
“Stop. You don’t need to do this.” 
“Do you want to get some coffee?” She blinks at the sudden question, blinking and then staring some more. 
“I just feel so grateful to you, I don’t know what I would have done if you didn’t come. You’ve helped me so much, it’s the least I can do. Please.” 
She checks her watch discretely, there is still some time before her “date” and looking at the round pleading eyes of the girl she feels her resolve weaken, sighing she goes against her good sense and nods. 
“Okay, we can get some coffee. But I have another.....engagement.” She struggles to find the correct word for the sham of a date and settles on that. She would much rather call it a business transaction but that would yield too many questions. 
The young girl beams at her, animatedly dragging her off her excited voice sweet and high as she praises a nearby coffee shop. 
“My Oppa works there, he can give us free coffee!” She states with youthful entitlement evident in her tone, she has no doubt that she will be given what she wants. It must be nice. 
The coffee shop is a quaint spot, she’s never noticed it before despite being in this area before. A bell rings announcing their arrival and they both walk up to the register. 
“Oppa! I’m here!” The girl calls out, leaning easily across the counter with no sense of decency, there are no other customers in the store though so there’s no one to judge her and Sujin finds her behavior oddly cute, she’s quite the ball of energy. 
“Oh, you’re here?” 
A chill runs down her spine. She knows that voice. But it can’t be? 
But life isn’t done making a mockery of her yet because Seojun turns around, coffee pot in his hand looking...interesting in his uniform she takes the image in greedily before forcing her eyes away. 
“Can we have free coffee? This is my unnie Kang Sujin.” 
“Unnie?” They both cry at the same time and the younger girl immediately grabs onto her arm, huge puppy eyes penetrating her face. “Can I call you unnie? You already saved me two times. I feel like you’re my guardian angel.” 
She stands shocked by the girl’s admission but before the words are finished processing in her foggy mind, Seojun shouts out looking murderous “Saved you? Did someone try to bully you again? Who is it? I’ll kill them.” 
Unsure of who she should reply to she just stares at them both like a fish on land. floundering around. They are both such forces of nature. 
“I’m fine Oppa.” She watches the girl roll her eyes as if his behavior is common and something to be peeved about, “These boys were trying to bother me but unnie came and beat them up! It was like something out of a movie, they all ran away crying.” The girl tries to demonstrate the moves waving her arms and legs around wildly, almost knocking the coffee cup from her brother’s hand. 
“Hey!” He yells in warning, moving the hot pot away. “Be careful before you hurt yourself.” 
The younger girl looks chastised for merely a second before she’s announcing she needs to use the bathroom and running off, leaving them alone to stare after her. 
Awkward silence remains in the wake of her departure. 
She’s tempted to run away, he is the last person she wants to see right now. 
“You really did that? For Go-woon ah?” His voice is soft, almost shy. For once he isn’t the same self-assured Seojun she’s used to see, he looks younger and the resemblance between the siblings is uncanny now with him looking at her with the same look of awe, his little sister had just minutes ago. 
“I.....yes I helped her. They were idiots, I did for myself. They were an eye sore.” 
But despite her dismissal, he smiles-toothy and ridiculously charming. It’s almost painful to look at, he shouldn’t be allowed to smile like that. 
She stares at him lost in his smile and when he reaches out to grasp her hand, she doesn’t fight it helplessly leaning closer to meet him over the counter, their eyes are locked as the space between them shortens, their bodies moving as if they’re opposite ends of a magnet. 
“Thank you for helping my sister.” He breathes out, his deep voice smooth and airy suddenly there isn’t enough air in the room. He rubs a thumb across the expanse of her hand, and she forgets to be self-conscious and simply enjoys the tender caress. 
“Oppa! Can we get free coffee or not? Why aren’t you making it?” Go-woon’s loud voice shatters the intimate moment as they both fly apart, she moves halfway across the room in her shock. 
Go-woon looks between them both suspiciously, “Did I interrupt something? You both look guilty.” 
“No!” They shout in sync again, Sujin groans realizes that this probably only serves at making them look even more guilty. Go-woon’s mischievous eyes confirm her thoughts. 
“I’ll make your coffee. You can both have a seat.” 
Go-woon starts to walk away to find a table, but she checks her watch again realizing she doesn’t have much time left if she’s going to be on time, she has to leave now. 
“Can I have mine to go? I have to be somewhere and I’m almost late.” 
Then Go-woon chirps in, “Me too oppa! I just realized I have to start a project, I should go home.” 
He stares at them both blankly before shifting his gaze to Sujin, “Where are you going?” He asks finally taking in her outfit, his gaze starting on her face and boldly sliding down her figure. His stare is hot enough to burn. 
Go-woon giggles answering for her, “Oppa look at her, come on. it’s clear she’s going on a date. Boys really don’t know anything.” 
She blanches as how easily the young girl is able to correctly assess the situation, she hadn’t thought it would be that easy to see. 
Seojun’s eyes harden as he turns away, staring at the coffee brewer as it works. He grabs two cups and pours the dark hot liquid in, before adding milk and a syrup and a layer of whipped cream on top. Go-woon hums happily clearly this is her preference as he hadn’t asked her how she wanted her coffee. 
He silently hands the cups to them both. His face is blank and unreadable vast difference from the beatific smile he had blessed her with earlier. She feels as if she has done something wrong, but she has no clue what that is. 
“Go straight home and don’t talk to anyone. Call me when you get home alright?”  
Go-woon is barely listening to him instead she’s happily licking at the thick layer of cream on her cup cooing at the sweetness. 
“Unnie, thank you again. I hope you enjoy your date, I’ll see you at school!” She suddenly has an armful of Go-woon before the girl is bounding out the door with only a “Bye oppa” to her brother thrown over her shoulder. 
“You haven’t said it’s not true yet?” 
She turns back to look at him, tilting her head lightly before sipping from her cup. She’s never had coffee this sweet, but it’s delicious so she takes another sip humming at the flavor. 
He looks away for a moment, his chest expanding deeply before he turns back to her. 
“What are you talking about?”
“Your date. That you have a date, is that true?”
She raises an eyebrow at this straightforwardness, gone in the shy boy she only saw for a minute and this is the Seojun she is familiar with. 
“I didn’t.”  She agrees. 
“Why?” 
“Because it’s true. I am going on a date.” 
During the conversation he started wiping down the already pristine counter but at her words his hand freezes and she watches his fist tighten in the wash cloth he ultimately throws it to the side to direct all his focus on her now, no longer nonchalant and unbothered.  
“With who? Do you like him?” 
She laughs meanly at his question, “You’re so naïve to my world. A date is just another business transaction, he is the son of someone my father needs on his side. I’m his peace offering.” 
“What?” He barks loudly, looking like he wants to hurt someone. She can imagine who that person might be. 
“Don’t get attached to me. My life isn’t mine to live.” She says tired of this discussion and all the feelings he has brought to the surface. Lifting her coffee cup she bids him farewell, “Thank you for the coffee.” 
She doesn’t give him a chance to reply, already knows what he’s going to say but he doesn’t understand everything isn’t as black and white as he keeps assuming they are he needed a reality check, so she provided one. 
Once on the sidewalk she checks her phone, she only has twenty minutes to spare. She can’t afford to wait for a cab so she opens the cab service app, entering the address and sighing in relief when the ETA says that she will arrive in fifteen minutes. Accepting the charge and confirming her location she sighs before lowering her phone, waiting. 
But then she feels arms curl around her shoulder, bringing her back into a solid surface she almost fights the sudden embrace until he whispers in the side of her head, “Don’t go.” 
She tries to pull away but he only holds her tighter, his arms are strong as he holds her firmly against his body. His warmth soaks into her skin and the urge to fight melts away as she relaxes into his embrace, he smells like the deep roast he had poured for them and something inexplicably Seojun that can’t be described with mere words. 
“Stop,” She pleads with him, she has to go even if the idea of going on a date with someone else makes her sick to her stomach. 
Someone else. Where did that come from? Did that mean that she wanted to go on a date with Seojun? 
She can’t answer that question, doesn’t want to deal with the reality. 
“No. I can’t stop. I don’t want to stop. Sujin, don’t go.” 
She shivers as his words curl around her just as warm and tempting as his arms around her shoulders. 
“Why are you doing this?” She demands, her eyes already filling up with tears of frustration she’d convinced herself she had to do this, let herself be used. It was easier this way to listen to her father. But he’s making everything hard and she needs to know why he cares. 
“Why do you care who I go on a date with? Why are you doing this?” She screams into the air, deflating into his arms after her tantrum. Letting him brunt the entirety of her weight, he doesn’t even budge easily holding her up. He shifts his body, bringing his chin onto her head and holding her tighter, leaving no space between them. 
“Isn’t it obvious by now princess?” 
She opens her mouth to berate him, not that damn nickname again. He seriously needed to stop that before she got accustomed to it even now instead of annoyance a foreign emotion rose up inside of her. 
“I told you to stop calling me tha--” 
“I like you.” 
The breath is punched from her lungs and her head swims with his words and she has no retort, no quick rebuttal, nothing. He has left her utterly and devastatedly speechless. 
113 notes · View notes
dadsbongos · 3 years
Note
Greetings! I got this idea for danganronpa AU where Nagito is like ghost "living" (or haunting idk-) his old house and the reader moves into that house and they slowly became closer and yk<3
hi i love this concept :)
Request for: Nagito Komaeda Warnings: nagito’s backstory, slight religious overtones, we breach minor ghost-fucker territory (but no actual ghost-fucking), no-killing game au also ~~~
The house itself was rather nice. Nothing too luxurious for who the previous owner was aside from the obnoxiously fancy chandelier hanging in the den.
The realtor was hesitant to explain that the reason it was selling so comically cheap was, in fact, due to the belief of a ghost. Not just any, however. It was the previous owner’s ghost.
People who even stepped into the house could feel his chilling touch. Hear quiet, shaky whispers in the night. The fireplace would crackle and burst to life at strange times with nobody near it. Visitors and almost-buyers alike would thrust their warnings to stay away upon anybody who so much as looked at the home.
But that didn’t matter much - a house was a house and it’s not like the ghost was malicious from description. Just… annoying. Perhaps a little eerie, but again, not harmful. Everybody escaped without physical injury. So, why not buy it?
Maybe the ghost just needed a friend? Death was probably a lonely time.
Bought on Tuesday. Moved in Wednesday. Finished unpacking… still pending.
It’s not like (Y/n) had anybody to impress anyways. She’d made the move for a fresh start; new faces, new stories.
The bumps began on Friday.
Sometimes they were taps. Sometimes crashes followed by the gentle rapping against the walls, as if to apologize for the loud noise.
She’d stayed through the month, undeterred by any of the ghosts’ activities.
Then the happenings seemed a little more… intimate.
A photo slowly sliding out from beneath the fridge, at first.
Three people in frame. From left to right, there was a figure with shoulder-length pink hair and a smile to make the heavens jealous - then white hair to rival a cloud-marshmallow love child, skin sickly pale and body wastingly thin - finally, brown hair with an ahoge sticking out like an antenna and posture that almost made him taller than the one in the middle. Well, not really, but attempting counted, right? 
“Which one’s you?” she asked the air, whether she was too tired, or simply didn’t care enough, to be embarrassed was irrelevant. 
A single droplet of water, from a leak she didn’t know existed until this very moment, fell from the ceiling before splotching over the face of the one in the middle.
“White hair, heavy eye bags?”
There was no response, but she took it as a yes anyway. What a pretty, pretty face. In a tragic way.
Because he did look rather ill. Frail build and purple hues under his eyes. Pretty but suffering - it made her feel bad. Of course, she already knew he was dead, but even so - suffering should always inspire empathy rather than romance.
And again, he was dead, so the likelihood of a romance between them anyway was slim to none. None. Unless she suddenly dropped dead, there would be no sweet kisses in the morning or gentle hugs from behind as one of them makes dinner. Maybe when she died, he’d be available for a ghostly date while the house gets put back on the market.
(Y/n) chuckled at the sudden thought of lightning cracking into her home, despite the sunny weather, and striking her dead where she stood. Ridiculous, but God liked ridiculous things.
The sudden thought hit her - what if that old photo was old old? Maybe he was eighty when he died and she just subconsciously signed herself up for a date with an elderly ghost?
Shaking her head, (Y/n) scolded herself for the thought. She’d already be dead by then, it wouldn’t matter what age he was...
Then, it was the scribbling on spare papers. Always specifically spares. Double copies she had put in recycling. Scraps. Even on the backs of paper-esque trash. It was an oddly considerate move for a ghost, though to be fair, she’d never met a ghost before and couldn’t tell if it was out-of-place or not for them.
The words always appeared when she was out of the room. Leaving to grab something and coming back to find the out-dated schedule for work out of recycling and on her desk with crayon sprawled over it. 
Hi 
Eloquently said, in her opinion.
“Hi?” she looked around the room, “Can you not talk? I thought people said they heard whispers…”
A bang in the other room drew her out. When there was nothing out of place, she returned to her desk only to be met with more words.
I’m Nagito Komaeda :)
“Dodging the question, huh?”
The process repeated. Bang. Nothing out of the ordinary. Return. New words.
Sorry :(
“Don’t apologize,” (Y/n) shrugged off before moving to her computer, “I’m just gonna look you up.”
A series of bangs - now that she truly listened, it sounded like a fist pounding to the drywall - resonated through the home. She did not get up nor did she pause her actions of Googling the man known as Nagito Komaeda. 
Until a piece of paper flew in from the open door.
Bad idea
“Probably, yeah,” she huffed, moving back to her computer.
Nagito Komaeda, born April 28th, first popped up as the sole survivor in an old plane hijacking report. Both parents, all plane staff, and the hijackers left dead after the plane crash caused by a meteor strike. Then he came up as a survivor of an old serial kidnapper/killer. Then as a boy who’d inherited the entirety of his parents’ fortune and won a large sum from a lottery ticket he’d found in the trash bag he was stuffed in by his kidnapper. Then as a Hope’s Peak graduate under the title Ultimate Lucky Student.
Finally, as a 25-year-old man who’d miraculously survived ten years post-diagnosis with frontotemporal dementia and advanced lymphoma before his death.
“Holy shit,” she nearly choked on her own shock, “You weren’t boring, that’s for sure.”
Another paper, this time written in marker as if he could sense that she didn’t wish to get up. Another strangely considerate move.
Thanks 
You’re not creeped out?
“I mean, it’s more sad than creepy,” her eyes scanned over a single line in the article once again.
“Nagito Komaeda, after all his fortunes and misfortunes alike, died at age 25, after ten years of illness, surrounded by friends who took the place of family. Out of respect, no interviews were conducted, but anybody, anyone at all even from a quick glance, could tell - Nagito Komaeda will surely be missed.” 
Her eyes watered slightly as she clicked out of the Togami Publications, laughing at the pure awkwardness of her situation, “Oh my God, that’s really fucking sad. I’m sorry your life sucked.”
Another paper.
It’s fine
I was just wasting space anyway :)
“No, you were- “ she gestured to her computer screen before covering her eyes in shame of her tears, “You meant so much to your friends.”
She expected memorial posts, maybe not as many as there were, but she saw them coming. What she didn’t see coming, however, was that each and every one would be dearly heartfelt - not a single one was disingenuous or vague in the slightest. She also didn’t see herself crying by the end of her little search.
But there she was.
Something light floated into her lap. A tissue.
“Oh my fucking God,” (Y/n) choked up again, picking up the tissue with a small smile, “Stop, you’re a ghost, you’re supposed to be scary and making me leave, not helping me dry my tears…”
Another paper atop the slowly growing pile.
Was that a ghostphobic remark?
“Oh, I’m keeping that one,” she stood, sniffling as she wiped away her tears, and picked up the last paper, nodding to herself as she muttered, “Yep. This one’s going on the wall.”
~~
Nagito stopped whispering because people ran when he did. His voice was always hideous, he didn’t to be reminded. Besides, (Y/n) seemed to prefer the paper method - she hung up her favorites along the walls of her office and if a visitor teased her about it she would ignore them. It was admirable, how their grins and giggles rolled off her back like water droplets over a duck.
He wished he could be like that.
Could have been.
He still had trouble with that.
Has.
Nagito looks up from his spot at the kitchen table where (Y/n) was cooking for herself. She seemed so at-peace in this house, and he’s glad for that. He never liked living alone and everyone else seemed to hate having him there. Not that he blamed them much.
Even so, he much prefers (Y/n) over any past guest as his living counterpart of the house.
She even leaves chairs open for him at the table; he smiles widely at the thought, patting his thighs and kicking out his legs in his seat- just like now!
She’d pulled out the chair upon entering the kitchen before calling out for him that she’d be cooking. She even knew he liked watching her cook!
It was selfish of him to crave so much attention, but in the end, Nagito was already dead so… did it really matter when he indulged in his wants more than he should?
Divine punishment isn’t real and he likes being around her, so why should he bother hiding himself away in the attic?
(Y/n) moved around the house with little to no liveliness, it made him chuckle. Her shoulders drooped and footsteps heavy, it was fun. To feel like he wasn’t alone.
He hoped she felt the same. That he was a friend… or, undead companion?
He hoped she would stay and not move out.
He hoped they could be real friends one day… if it’s not too much to ask, that once she dies, she’ll meet him. The real him. 
That would be heaven.
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bestkindofbeehive · 3 years
Text
Smile for Me Week, Day 1: Secret
happy smile for me week!!! for my first trick, have a fic I wrote after thinking about my dad too hard. it ends well and it was pretty cathartic for me, but it does get a bit emotionally intense re: feelings about having to stay closeted in front of your parents for years, so fair warning. but it does end well I promise!!! I’ll probably post this on ao3 soon too, so look out for that!
-----
Never in a million years would Parsley have ever expected that being stuck in the same slapdash “mental health” retreat as his dad would end in anything other than frustration. And, to be fair, that was how things went for a while. But then that weird florist handed him one of his dad’s terrible dishes, and before he knew it he was getting drunk off his ass and actually talking to his dad for the first time in... years, probably. Somehow it wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be. The Kahlúa and birthday cake flavored vodka probably helped.
And then he’d been woken up in the middle of the night and suddenly urged out of the giant front gates with very little reason why— something something carbon monoxide poisoning. Not that Parsley really needed convincing to get the hell out of there at that point. Even a constant flow of free alcohol probably wouldn’t have kept him there for much longer. Those last PSAs were getting pretty creepy and, well, incredibly specific and aggressive towards one particular person. He had hoped that chicken te- flower vendor made it out alright, but he saw them a few days later in town. So things couldn’t have ended too badly.
The most astonishing thing, though, was the fact that he and his dad actually kept talking once they got out of that place. And he somehow didn’t wind up wanting to tear his hair out by the end of every conversation, even. Of course his dad frustrated him plenty of times, but it never got bad bad like it used to. Things between them were... good. Not good good, but just. Good.
So good, in fact, that Parsley manages to somehow metaphorically vomit up the words necessary to tell his dad he wasn’t attracted to women. He wasn’t even drunk— tipsy, certainly, but he was painfully in control of all his faculties that night.
It went... well. He knows the night ended on good terms, and he knows his dad didn’t get angry. He’s pretty sure his dad told him he loved him at some point, which is a good sign. It only happened a few weeks ago. He isn’t really ready to think about it very hard in any capacity. He’s scared that he’ll go looking for some specific sign, or a phrase, or a look— something that definitively tells him that his dad doesn’t look at him and wish he had another son— and come up empty.
Parsley takes what he can get, until what he can get isn’t enough anymore.
The tension finally breaks one evening; almost six months to the day they both left the Habitat. They were watching the end of some melodrama that was airing right before the hilariously disorganized cooking show they both enjoyed. And the stupid thing is that Parsley can’t even remember what his dad said that set him off so bad— but, god, his dad would know just the right string of words to tick him off enough to say something. It was something about keeping secrets. Something about how he didn’t understand why some people keep harmless stuff so close to their chest for no reason. Which is rich coming from him, the man who has to bluster his way through every emotional conversation he’s ever had. Parsley would be seeing red if his eyes weren’t already that color.
“See, I mean, like with your whole, uh, situation— Not that I’m tryin’ to rag on you or anything, sprig, but I just don’t see why you didn’t just go on and tell me! I wouldn't've been mad at you or nothin’,” Jimothan says, gladly shoving his entire foot in his mouth for the sake of scolding Parsley, just like old times.
Parsley, to his credit, doesn’t immediately blow up. “You didn’t exactly make it the easiest thing to do,” he says, his voice clipped and his jaw tense. His dad makes a bewildered noise next to him; a noise that wouldn’t be out of place in a sitcom.
“Now what’s that supposed to mean? I always told you that you could talk to me about anything, didn’t I?” Jimothan asks. The look of genuine confusion on his face almost makes Parsley want to drop it and just keep watching tv, but the fuse has already been lit.
“Sure, if you forget about all the times you showed me that definitely wasn’t true,” Parsley scoffs, pretending to focus on the tv again. The melodrama is still going. The character on screen is crying big, unrealistic tears. Parsley can’t make out what they’re crying about over the blood starting to rush through his ears. Every neural pathway in his brain left over from his teens is yelling at him to just let dad think that he’s right so the lecture that hasn’t even started will stop.
“What’re you— Parsley, what the heck are you talkin’ about? I’ve never— When have I ever said somethin’ that would make you think I wouldn’t—”
Something in his dad’s tone immediately sets Parsley’s blood to a boil. He sounds like he doesn’t understand; like he doesn’t even know where this is even coming from. He has no idea. Fuck, would it hurt less if his dad tried to justify himself instead? If he sounded angry instead of confused? Because this means that he just doesn’t know. Decades of hiding and bullshit and being afraid and he just didn’t know.
“Are you KIDDING ME?” Parsley fires back, eyes wide open and blood red. Jimothan almost jumps, having not been witness to his son’s temper in a while. “When HAVEN’T you said something that would make me think you wouldn’t approve? I wouldn’t— I couldn’t go a day without you making some comment about how I needed to get a girlfriend, or- or- how you couldn’t wait to have grandkids, or some other stupid thing about me “finally” getting a wife someday—” Parsley rants, his voice stuttering with the anger flying around in his chest.
Jimothan at least has the decency to look a bit stunned. “But— Oh c’mon Parsley, that was just me tryin’ to give you a little push! I thought you were havin’ a tough time talking to girls, so I figured I would just give you some pointers—”
“No! That’s just it! You just had to build up and build up this— this idea of what I was supposed to do! Every time you just had to make a comment like that it was another bullet on the fist— LIST of all the things I wasn’t doing right,” Parsley flusters. At some point in his rant his hands find their way to his head, and he tries to run his fingers through his hair to calm himself down, but they keep catching on tangles. “A-And you wanna act like I shouldn’t have been scared to tell you, but you—!”
“Scared?” His dad’s expression breaks a little, which just makes this awful situation all the more difficult. Shit. Shit shit shit, this wasn’t how this was supposed to happen. It shouldn’t even be happening, but the fire in Parsley’s chest isn’t dying down and he can’t keep his traitor mouth shut.
“Sprig, you didn’t have any reason to be scared, it woulda been fi—” Jimothan tries to start.
“Ugh, you’re not LISTENING!” Parsley feels like he’s seconds away from tearing his hair out. God, he sounds like such a teenager. “It wasn’t that easy! Of course I was scared! How the hell could I have explained— I just—!!” 
“HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO TELL YOU I WASN’T THE SON YOU WANTED?!” Parsley finally screams.
The room gets quiet frighteningly fast. His dad just stares at him, his face slack with a cocktail of confusion, surprise, and what Parsley wants to hope is sadness.
Suddenly, all the anger and half-hearted bravado flies out of Parsley’s chest. His arms fall to his sides, and he’s left panting with the exertion of having just spilled out a flood of emotions that have been building since he was in elementary school. He doesn’t feel relieved. He just feels tired.
And then he starts crying. Which is just... great. As if this night needed some extra turmoil to really polish things off. Like most times, he can’t even stop himself; he was never good about not wearing his heart on his sleeve. Not his anger, not his disappointment, and definitely not his heartache. It’s not even a “dignified cry”, as his dad would put it— he’s hiding his face in his hands, and he can’t stop his shoulders from shaking every time he tries to suck in a stuttery breath.
He probably looks pretty pathetic right now, Parsley thinks. And in a few moments he’ll hear his dad get up and walk out of his apartment while mumbling something about seeing him later. And then in about a week’s time, Parsley will answer the phone, hear his dad’s voice, and both of them will never speak of this night ever again.
But something different happens.
Instead, he feels his dad’s sturdy hands take him by the shoulders and pull him into a firm hug. It’s an awkward thing; Parsley’s hands were still covering his face, so now they’re kind of pinned to his chest, and his dad is squeezing him just slightly too hard. They’re both out of practice, really.
Before Parsley can manage a “whuh” in response, he hears more than sees his dad take in a big, faltering breath while his shoulders start to shake. Parsley has only seen his dad cry a handful of times in his life. Most of them happened around the time the divorce was finalized. But after that... Nothing.
Jimothan makes a wounded noise of a sob. “Y-You’re— God, sprig, I would never...” he starts, but can’t find the words to finish. Parsley manages to find it in himself to forgive his dad for that pretty easily. He’s never been the most eloquent when it comes to emotional outbursts. Parsley manages to wriggle his arms free, and wraps them around his dad. The older man lets out a little sniffle in response, and then starts to run his hand down his son’s messy head of hair. It only catches a few times.
“You’re all I got, Parsley,” his dad mumbles through the thickness in his voice. “You’re all I got.”
Parsley lets himself cry just a little bit more, his chest finally starting to feel lighter than it has in years. The two of them exist like that for a while— clumsily hugging and crying and mumbling little fragments of things they’ve both been meaning to say. At some point they’ll have to break apart, and at some point the night will have to end. They’ll part ways with slightly stilted goodbyes, and very likely won’t speak of this night for at least a few months. But for now, they both let themselves have this moment. 
And it’s not much, but it’s enough.
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controloffandoms · 3 years
Text
Buck Begins Fic Recs
For @thisissirius 
Here are a couple of fics that I have written. And I’ll probably add a couple of favorites that I’ve read along the way!
Nothing I Ever Did Was Good Enough
Buck bit his tongue, looking away from his father. It was too early in their get together to have a blow out. He especially didn’t want to have that blowout in front of Chim and Albert. “You know, firefighting, until recently, has had a huge amount of off duty suicides due to improper care of mental health. The department has changed to help firefighters through hard times of losing patients or families in fires by hiring departmental psychologists and having service animals available for visits to the firehouses after really tough calls. If someone isn’t in the right mindset, we could lose more people, not to mention our own people and that person. Mental health is no joke,” Albert stated. Buck had to hide is smile, but he turned to Albert, giving him a knowing look and small smile. His parents spluttered for a few seconds before Phillip turned to Albert. “I don’t think I was talking to you. Mind your own business, this was a family matter.” “Don’t talk to him like that,” Buck nearly growled. “He is family.”
~~Or the one where the parents visit and Buck is in over his head...luckily his family has his back.
~~~~Part 1 in the Nothing I Ever Did Was Good Enough series
Nothing I Ever Did-
~~~~Part 2 in the Nothing I Ever Did Was Good Enough series
"Watch your attitude, Evan," Margaret glared. "Why should I? All you've ever done is put me down and compare me to Maddie and try to make me into her. News flash, I'm my own person and I'm different! I get that nothing I ever did was good enough, but I don't have to keep trying to appease you and let you walk on me or my family. So if you could kindly drop the attitude and rude comments regarding Eddie and Christopher, it would be much appreciated. They invited you into their home and you've been nothing but assholes since you got here! Clearly you came here with opinions and baggage and a want to have your way, but that's not going to fly here. You best just head out of town tonight, you're not wanted here in my life or Maddie's life. We don't want your toxicity melting into our families because I'll be damned if the shit you've said tonight will ever affect my niece or my kid!"
~~Or the one where Eddie hosts the Buckley parents and just tries to be supportive in general...but the parents are nightmares. Featuring cuddles with Chris, Eddie, and Buck.
Not The One You Wanted
“Evan, I don’t know what you expected us to do.”
“Love me anyway,” it had been said like his heart had been ripped out...which, it felt like it had. Because that was the truth, wasn’t it...all he ever wanted was for them to love him anyway. He wanted his parents to give a damn about him but they never did...it was like he was a responsibility that they never wanted.
Maddie had said that their parents had been different back then when they were sentimental and made a box for her...and now Buck knew why. Daniel. His older brother Daniel...a brother that he didn’t even know existed until he sat down with Maddie to look at all the baby photos in the box...and there were plenty...Buck can hardly remember ever getting portraits like these done during his childhood….but his parents were different back then.
-OR- Evan Buckley deserves love and hugs because of how shitty his parents are.
*This is honestly one of my favorites that I’ve written...it’s like a character study while Buck was trapped in the warehouse with some liberties surrounding the reason Buck’s in the warehouse*
Secrets
He’d been lied to his whole life...Maddie had never thought to tell him about not being his actual sister...his parents were acting like it didn’t matter...like he should just get over it. Buck’s eyes met Chim’s...and his whole body went rigid. “You knew,” he whispered, looking directly at Chim. “You knew and you didn’t tell me?!” He rounded on his sister, “you told him, but not me?!”
“Evan, I was trying to protect you-”
“No, you don’t get to do that! You don’t get to try and protect me! I’m a grown ass adult, I deserved to know but instead of telling me, you told him and even though I’ve known him longer he still didn’t tell me!” Buck shook his head, backing from the room. “I can’t do this,” he whispered.
-OR- Buck finds out the secret Maddie's been keeping from him while his parents are visiting...he is understandably betrayed.
*Basically, Buck Begins and the Daniel scenes hadn’t happened yet and I wanted to know what the secret was, so I came up with this.*
Ambush of the Parents
Based off the new Promo (or the one I just saw) where we see Maddie, Chim, Albert, Buck and (who I believe) are Buck and Maddie’s Parents. Buck’s dad says “you’ve been seeing a therapist?” and Buck responds “Well, the job can be stressful.”
Disclaimer: Please don't read if verbal abuse from parents triggers you.
~~~~Or Buck’s parents  are absolutely horrible and Buck’s family defends him.
Buck Begins
Buck always tried to please his parents. He wanted to be recognized and loved. He tried to get their approval but it was never enough. *Includes flashbacks, this was before Season 4 was even in production*
~Evan had thought that the SEALs would make his parents proud. He tried out for the SEALs, he went through training, but it still wasn’t enough. Then he’d dropped out. That had been the icing on the cake. Evan had never had a big blowout with his parents. He’d always tried to appease them. He tried to be the perfect son…but they never thought he was good enough. So when he dropped out of the SEALs, having a shouting match with his father as a consequence, he left for South America. He bartended and had fun. Then he’d gone to LA and became a firefighter and he hadn’t contacted his parents since the blowout. 
Here are some fic recs that are not my own works
double vision wrapped in last night’s party clothes by amirlywritingfanficnow
"I have always been honest with you." When Eddie's voice cracks, Buck's composure almost cracks with it. "Why can't you just be honest with me?"
or
When Buck is let in on a long kept family secret, he doesn't know what to do. He almost ruins things with the one person that keeps him from feeling like he's floating away with no way to land, but it ultimately turns out okay with help of a little communication.
*This one pulled at my heart strings a little*
but i leave it in my heart, cause I don’t want to stay in the dark by neoncrayolas
Buck hadn't meant for the confession to come out like it did. He'd wanted it to be more eloquent and not so full of snot and tears.
But once it was out, there was no going back.
Or, part character study of Buck, part coda to 4x05.
*Basically, Buck isolates himself, Eddie gets worried, and Buddie is endgame
Learning to Breathe by TearsThisSideofHeaven
Boy, he thinks as the city lights blur a little in his vision, my therapist is going to have a field day with this.
*Short little fic that delves into Buck’s emotions with Eddie trying to support him
Finally Safe by WinterLioness
In the aftermath of finding out a family secret Buck finds himself going to Eddie. Christopher and Eddie use their Diaz charm to help.
*This picks up on the emotions Buck feels not only because of the family secret but because Maddie kept it from him (not full on hate, but what any normal person would need to work through) and Eddie is there to support him. Features cuddles with the Diaz Boys.
Not Related to the story line of 9-1-1 but has a whole ‘Buck Begins’ vibe because I was world building: The Life We Live
*The Old Guard AU no one asked for* "Athena had seen many a millennium and many men, women, and children die. She had seen the rise and fall of civilizations. She had felt the pain of loneliness and the happiness of community...but she’d never, in her many years of living, seen something like Eddie, Buck, and Chris. She’d never seen this profound of a bond, even between herself and Bobby. After Buck lost Abby and, later, Ali, Athena wasn’t sure he would have let his heart reach out to another person that he could lose...but she was proud of him. He built something that was hard to come by in their way of living. He built a home."
*I’m really proud of this one, it turned out well*
Not Related to the Story Line of 9-1-1, Fics by others!
Please Don’t Say You Love Me (because I might not say it back) by Queerfeministdork
"Say I love you loud, and say I love you often. It was an easy sentiment, and it was a beautiful background picture. But something clenched tightly in Buck’s chest when he saw it flash open as he handed Hen her phone. Because he knew it was a simple thing for most people, that most people could just let those three little words slip out without a care. But he couldn’t. They always got caught in his throat, stuck behind his chest. Tamped down before he could think to breathe them out."
Buck always wished he could just say the words. Turns out, maybe people just know.
*Basically, Buck can’t say ‘I Love You’ as easily as everyone else and panics about it...but eventually, everyone understands.
everything is blue by amirlywritingfanficnow
When Evan Buckley is ten, he discovers nail polish.
-
In which Buck paints his nails, Eddie is flustered, and May is a matchmaker.
*Basically Buck and Eddie saying fuck toxic masculinity. Buck enjoying painting his nails and Eddie is definitely in love with him.
Coming Home To You by kariberri13
The 118 want to know more about Buck, but the man won't give them many details. That is until the biggest detail walks through the station's bay doors.
*Not focused on his past, but a different story focusing on the fact that Buck is married to Eddie and has a kid that he didn’t tell the Fire fam about.
There are tons more, but this is what I could think of off the top of my head! 
Hope you like them!
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so-writing · 4 years
Text
Dream Boy - Rafe Cameron x Reader x JJ Maybank (Outer Banks)
Summary: You are a pogue dating Rafe Cameron and, as expected, chaos ensues.
The last part of a small series, read Things You Never Show (1) and Time (2).
-
“Fine, I guess I’ll just go then.”
“Thanks, I’d like that.” 
“You’re welcome,” JJ’s tone was clipped as he stormed out of the room, the sound of your apartment door slamming moments later.
His declaration of love wasn’t expected, but you had to admit it felt good to be wanted by someone.
“I need to pass the fuck out,” you said to yourself as you unwrapped the blanket from your body and tossed it at the bed, “things might be clearer after a night of sleep.”
*
“You’re entirely too good for that rich bastard and he knows it.”
JJ’s words fell on deaf ears and your cheeks reddened slightly before smiling back at him. 
Rafe took your response positively, standing up and making his way over to you.
“Hey,” he almost cooed in your ear, “are you having a good night?”
“Yeah, yeah I am.” 
A million butterflies fluttered around in your stomach as you allowed him to lead you away from the pogues and over to his fire. Rafe spoke eloquently, and laughed heartily at the jokes his friends cracked, his arm around your shoulders the whole time. 
“Can I drive you home?”
“Sure,” you wrapped your arms around yourself in attempt to keep the goosebumps at bay. 
It had gotten pretty late and Rafe and his friends were the only ones left on the beach that night.
“You cold?”
Before you could respond, he pulled off his jacket and placed it around your shoulders, rubbing your arms over the fabric, “let’s get you home, yeah?”
*
The aggravating shriek of your alarm seemed louder than usual. You stretched your hand out to silence it but only managed to knock a picture frame and your water bottle off the bedside table. 
“Fucking fine,” you huffed and threw the blankets toward the bottom of the bed, “i’m up.” 
Your phone was dark, sitting innocently on the charger where you’d left it, but you knew that when you illuminated the screen, there would be hell to pay.
Rafe (7:41) good morning baby, I miss you
Rafe (8:03) We fought but you’re still my girlfriend
Rafe (8:34) You never sleep this late. Please just fucking talk to me. I need you. 
Rafe (9:02) Baby please, please talk to me
Rafe (9:41) Come to me when you’re ready, I’ll wait. I’ll wait as long as you need me to. I love you. 
Except, there wasn’t. 
You expected Rafe to fly off the fucking handle after being ignored for so long. Instead of getting angry, it seemed like he just got sad. Rafe Cameron wasn’t the type to wait for anyone, so it was astounding that he was willing to do it for you. 
Blinking a few times and taking a deep breath, you typed out a response to Rafe.
I’m sorry I’ve been unreachable. I’m dealing with some shit and I think we need to talk.
The phrase, ‘we need to talk’, was never good and you were sure Rafe knew that. You, once again, expected the worst but he responded instantly.
Rafe (11:41) Name the place and time, I’ll meet you there.
*
The speed limit on the roads of the Cut were set at 35 but you clocked 50 as you sped to the Chateau. You would meet with Rafe later but you needed to talk to JJ first. 
The pogues were seated around a fire with sodas in hand, it being too early to get out the harder stuff. John B and Sarah were cuddled up while Pope and Kie sat next to each other, exchanging glances. The blonde you were looking for was noticeably absent. 
“Where is JJ?” 
“Dude! Where have you been?” Pope jumped up from his chair, followed by the rest of the pogues, and they surrounded you, enveloping you in a hug. 
“I needed some time. JJ?” 
Sarah nodded her head in the direction of the water and you knew right away that he was on the dock attached to the land the Chateau sat on.
“JJ, are you here?” 
You knew he was, you could see him sitting at the edge of the dock, his blonde hair tame beneath the red hat he wore so often.
“Yeah, I’m here.”
“I want to talk to you.”
“You do? You were really against talking to me last night so I’m kind of thrown off.” 
“Come on,” you dropped down next to him, “don’t be petty, J.”
Silence rose between the two of you, JJ dipping his bare toes in the water as you held back to keep your shoes from getting wet. 
“I love you too.”
“No you don’t,” he didn’t make eye contact, “you love Rafe.”
“I lied.” 
“I know that. It doesn’t matter, you don’t love me.”
You said nothing and that was confirmation enough for JJ. 
“I’m your best friend,” he wrapped an arm around you, “and that is all. I can live with that, I’m used to pining after all.
“You’re much more mature than Rafe would ever be in this situation.”
“Obviously. Rafe is a child but let’s not talk about him anymore.”
JJ pressed a kiss to your forehead and you leaned into him, giving a kiss to his cheek. 
“Wish me luck with this breakup, J.” 
“You don’t need luck. That asshole loves you, for good reason, and he’s going to be more hurt than angry. You need to be strong though. Read him the fucking riot act.” 
“Absolutely I will.”
*
“Rafe! Rafe! Where are you?”
You wandered around the beach looking for your boyfriend. He had disappeared about five minutes after a pretty touron introduced herself to him. 
“I’m here baby,” he slurred, not bothering to hide the purple marks on his neck.
“Can we leave, Rafe? I’m tired, both for myself and of the randoms constantly hitting on you.”
“Nah, babe. Let’s hang for a bit. Topper has a good series of pong happening soon and I can’t leave my boy hanging!”
“Fine.”
Your boyfriend all but sprinted away from you as he waved to his friends. A mixture of irritated and sad, you wandered down to the dock to get away from everyone and everything. It wasn’t long until you heard the dock creaking beneath someone’s footsteps coming toward you. 
“You know he treats you like shit, right?” 
*
Rafe was sitting on the steps of the front porch when you arrived at his place. He didn’t wait for you to put your car in park before he was running your way. 
“I missed you so much!” 
He wrapped his arms around your frame and lifted you up, spinning a few times. Rafe’s lips hit yours and you instantly lost control of yourself as you happily kissed him back.
“Baby girl I have missed you so much, and I know I fucked up. I’m so glad you’re here and that you’re forgiving me, I needed that.”
You’re forgiving me, I needed that.
A hollow laugh passed your lips as you pushed him away. 
“You needed me to forgive you? You needed me to do that? I was the one in the wrong? Really, Rafe?”
“No, no,” he stuttered, “I just thought you were over it because you were so cool about it. I didn’t know.”
“You didn’t know?”
The calm front you had planned to present was slowly dissipating and there was nothing you could do to stop it, you weren’t sure you wanted to.
“You didn’t know that I would be hurt if you cheated on me? You didn’t know that I wouldn’t be hurt if you ignored me? After all that you expect me to forgive you? Are you a fucking moron, Rafe? Are you that fucking careless that you didn’t see how much I love you and what I did for you? You can’t be so fucking dense that you didn’t acknowledge my feelings at all. Do better, asshole.”
Rafe said nothing, only looking down at the ground and uneasily shifting his weight from foot to foot. 
“If you haven’t figured it out yet, this means we’re done.” 
“I’m sorry. I’m a fucking piece of shit and I know that. I also know that there is no one better than you. There is no doing better than you. Please,” he begged, “please, I need you.”
His voice was soft and cracked a little at his second please. He didn’t come any closer, but he was looking at you now, his blue eyes pleading for what you both knew you could no longer give him. 
“I’m sorry,” you meant it, “The person I’m looking at now is not the person I fell in love with and I don’t think I’m enough to bring him back.” 
“No,” he shoved his hands in his pockets, “don’t say that. You have always been enough, I’ve just been too stupid to realize it.”
The both of you fought the urge to cry, you wrapping your arms around yourself and shrugging your shoulders while Rafe pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, red eyes trying to blink away the tears that he was sure would come once you had left. 
“I should go.” 
“Yeah.. yeah.” 
Turning away from him, you wiped a stray tear that managed to escape and headed back down the driveway.
“Hey,” he hadn’t moved from where he was standing, “I know this is out of line, but, please don’t start dating him, at least not publicly.”
“That was never going to happen.” 
“Good,” a small smile tugged at his lips as he watched you turn around and get into your car, leaving his home for what he knew would be the last time. 
Unless he could get his shit together and do better.
-
tags: @lcil123 @bibliophilewednesday
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thetalentedmripley · 3 years
Text
i present to you;;; the anderperry christmas fic i wrote like three years ago!! enjoy hehe
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Winter break was a distant, looming storm cloud to Todd. Despite the voice in his head instructing him to not grow dependent on Neil, by the time December rolled around he found himself irrevocably attached. The idea of spending a month alone (with his family, but nevertheless alone) made him want to jump out of his dorm room window.
When the last day of the semester did come, Todd grieved. He sat on his bed as Neil finished packing, having packed his own bags beforehand in his anxious turmoil. As Neil went to place his composition notebook in his bag, he stopped and approached Todd.
“Do you know your phone number?”
Todd instinctively sat up straighter, grabbing the notebook and pen from Neil’s hands. He nodded.
“Write it down in there, will you?”
Excited at the idea of having contact with Neil over the break, Todd obliged, jotting down the home phone number and making sure each digit was perfectly legible.
Later that day, as Neil’s taxi pulled up to the front of the school, after giving Todd a quick hug (that made Todd blush despite himself) Neil said “I’ll call you,” and, before Todd could respond, was gone.
Being back at home was, put simply, torturous. Todd had all-too-quickly forgotten the endless torment of living in the same house as his parents. Their quips, remarks, jokes at his expense made him shrink smaller and smaller as his frustration grew. Not to mention the endless praise for his brother, or the complete shift in attitude once Jeffrey did arrive.
The only thing that kept Todd from going completely insane was waiting for Neil’s phone call. Although he was disappointed after a week had passed, he knew Neil well enough to know that if Neil said he would call, he would call. It was only a matter of when. And waiting-- boring as it might seem-- kept Todd occupied enough to refrain from taking a bath with his mother’s shiny toaster.
Christmas day was nice enough; although the gifts his parents gave him were more reflections of what they wished he would be (a football, an introduction to corporate law textbook) Jeffrey had gotten him his favorite chocolates and a pair of binoculars. After present opening and Christmas brunch, Todd sat by the window, watching snow fall gently and wondering what his friends might be doing.
Around 7pm Todd heard the phone ring, and, as usual, jumped up at the sound. His mother answered (as she usually did) and Todd waited for her familiar greeting to the person on the line. Instead, to Todd’s amazement, her voice rang out from the kitchen:
“Todd? It’s for you.”
Todd walked so fast he was scared he might trip over his own legs.
“Hello?” he said, eager.
“Todd! Merry Christmas.” Neil’s familiar tone reminded Todd of the warmth of the fireplace.
“Neil! Merry Christmas to you too? How have you been?”
“As good as can be expected, I guess. You?”
Todd thought for a second.
“Same here.”
“Ah, well. We’ll be back soon enough. Did you get anything good today?”
“My brother gave me some binoculars.”
“Awesome! We can go bird watching now.”
The very thought of Neil bird watching was enough to make Todd laugh. Neil barely had enough patience to wait for the water to get hot before showering.
“Sure. What about you?”
“Eh, nothing exciting. A new Harvard sweatshirt.”
Todd could sense some bitterness there, but decided not to make Neil feel any worse.
“That’s nice.”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
They were both silent for a moment, until Neil said, “Did you miss me?”
Todd’s mind seemed to freeze for a moment out of surprise, and his response was less than eloquent:
“You- well- I- Uh... Yeah. I did. I mean, I do.”
He thought he could hear Neil laugh quietly on the other end.
“I miss you too...” A voice spoke lowly in the background, and Neil’s tone changed slightly.
“I have to go. See you soon, Todd. Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas.”
And it was.
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ladylynse · 4 years
Text
The Trouble with Ghosts: Lancer hadn’t realized how closely young Mr. Fenton’s school troubles–and the secrets he surely wasn’t telling his parents–were tied to ghosts until after that encounter with Phantom.
<< <  Part XIII [FF | AO3]
-|-
“We’re going to do everything we can to help you,” Maddie said, her voice a fierce whisper that Lancer could hear from the doorway.
Their support was a relief. He’d begun to doubt himself, but it seemed his impressions of the Fentons were correct after all. Well. They had just insisted that they loved their children more than they loved their work, and he had rather deserved that.
And then Maddie added, “We’ll find a way to fix this.”
Lancer saw Danny’s shoulders tense. Far from melting into the family hug now, he looked trapped in it. He was still, frozen, even as he croaked out, “What do you mean?”
“Whatever happened to you,” Maddie continued. She was the first to pull back and get a better look at her son and his clearly unexpected reaction, but Jack followed, and Lancer saw a frown on his face that mirrored his wife’s.
Danny shuffled away from them, moving to the far side of the bed. “I don’t need fixing,” he cried, and his voice broke on the word. “I’m not…. I’m not….”
“He’s not broken,” Valerie stepped in, her voice hard. She was making no effort to disguise her anger or her disgust. “How can you guys even think that?”
Maddie blinked. “We didn’t—”
“Phantom’s not some separate entity,” Valerie cut in. “Whether you like it or not, Phantom is Danny and Danny is Phantom, and if you don’t want to accept that right now, leave him alone until you do.”
“I think you misunderstand—” started Jack.
“I’m not misunderstanding anything,” snapped Valerie. She hadn’t moved towards them, but her hands were balled into fists, and Lancer could see her trembling from the effort to stay still. “I haven’t since I found out the truth. Key words being the truth. I can’t believe you guys. I thought you were better than this! I told Danny you were better than this!”
Danny pulled his knees to his chest and huddled, saying nothing even as tears streaked down his cheeks for a very different reason than they had a moment ago.
Perhaps forcing this conversation had not been as wise as Lancer had thought.
He couldn’t undo the damage he’d done, but he could do his best to mitigate it and keep it from getting any worse. This had been his folly. He’d let Valerie try to talk to Danny, perhaps come to some terms that he could give to the Fentons. The complications in Danny’s home situation were on Lancer’s head now, and if the boy—very understandably—didn’t wish to live with his parents, then Lancer felt responsible for finding alternative accommodations. Perhaps Mr. and Mrs. Foley wouldn’t mind putting the boy up for a few days, just until he had a chance to sort something out….
No. He mustn’t keep jumping to conclusions. There might be a way to salvage this yet.
Lancer put the tray on top of the dresser with enough force that the silverware jostled and clinked, successfully drawing everyone’s attention away from poor Danny. If he talked this over with the boy’s parents, he might be able to find a way to smooth things over.  “Mr. and Mrs. Fenton, if you would join me in the living room—”
“No.” Maddie got to her feet and stood beside her husband. He slipped an arm around her, holding her close without forcing her to lean on him. “Danny, this isn’t about you and Phantom—”
“Him being Phantom, you mean?”
Valerie’s words were a sneer, but Lancer couldn’t find it in him to chastise her.
“Yes. That is what I mean. Thank you.” Maddie turned from Valerie’s surprised face to her son, who was now hiding his own face in his arms. “I’m sorry, sweetie. I misspoke. I don’t mean that we need to fix who you are. I meant that we’d help you fix whatever is currently the problem. There must be something, surely. I’ve never seen Phantom injured for so long.”
Danny sniffed and lifted his head before whispering, “Really?”
“Really.” Maddie crawled across the bed to her son and put a tentative hand on his arm. When he made no effort to shy away from her, she clutched him in a tight embrace. “Please tell us as much as you can about what happened to cause this. We’ll do whatever we can to help.”
Lancer didn’t have a clear view of Danny’s face, but he knew the hesitation in answering for what it was.
Apparently, so did Valerie. “It’s my fault,” she said into the silence. “Partially, anyway. I…. I shot him before I knew the truth.”
Jack frowned. “You shot him? I don’t remember selling you any weapons, and I don’t think your dad would’ve signed the release forms. You didn’t borrow a prototype when we weren’t looking, did you?”
He was trying to sound disapproving, but even Lancer could hear a bit of surprised pride coming through.
Jack Fenton thought he was looking at the next generation of ghost hunters, eager up-and-comers, and didn’t realize how much more there was to this story.
Lancer knew that feeling. That ignorance. That sense of ‘surely this is all there is to it’, moments before the truth took another horrific twist.
“I didn’t need to.” Valerie’s voice was still sharp with anger, but Lancer suspected a good deal of it was directed at herself now, given the change in topic. “I’m the Hunter. The Red Huntress. And Dad knows. He just…doesn’t approve, because he thinks I’m going to hurt myself.” Valerie blinked rapidly, and then the rest of her words burst out in a torrent. “Instead, I hurt one of my friends, and now I need to do what I can to fix this, just like you, only it’s not nearly as easy as you think it is, because you don’t know the half of it, because Mr. Masters—”
“Vladdy? But he hasn’t hunted ghosts in years!”
“He hasn’t since our college days,” Maddie added.
There had been no disbelief on their faces when Valerie had revealed herself as the Red Huntress. No sign of disapproval. No stab of concern for her wellbeing, or at least none that showed, not like he was sure his had when he’d found out. Were they still in shock after finding out about their son or were they not worried because of the skill she’d repeatedly displayed?
Teenager or not, Lancer still thought her a child, and he didn’t like the idea of children in danger. That being said, if it were a choice between him and either of the children in this room to defend them all against ghosts, he would not be anyone’s first choice. He wasn’t sure any of the adults here would be anyone’s first choice, not when it came down to skill alone.
He didn’t have to like the idea of something to recognize talent and honed skill when he saw it, and perhaps that was simply the stage the Fentons were already at.
Perhaps they saw Miss Gray as a fellow ghost hunter, with a skill to rival theirs despite her age.
Or perhaps they also didn’t want to think about the fact that this town was being protected from ghosts by children as much—more—than it was by any adult.
Or perhaps they were simply too caught up on the last words to come out of her mouth to fully comprehend the first ones. It wasn’t a particularly pleasant thought—if Vlad was a friend from their college years and they’d fallen out of touch, only to reconnect relatively recently, they could hardly claim to still know him so well—but Lancer had seen deliberate avoidance of a subject before. It was entirely too easy to focus on a simpler, more easily defendable topic than to wade through treacherous waters that could inevitably lead to the inability to deny one’s own wrongdoing.
He was guilty of it himself.
Admittedly, that was only slightly less difficult than actively working towards correcting his actions.
Considering that this situation was hardly under his control any longer, he wasn’t sure that what he was doing now really counted towards making amends for some of his earlier blindness where young Mr. Fenton and Miss Gray were concerned. Not that he was really in a position to measure that; it wasn’t something that could be measured, and if it were, it would be by their judgement, not his. Like Mr. and Mrs. Fenton, he needed to make a substantial effort to help now, since the help that had been needed in the past had gone unoffered.
In the stretching silence, Valerie pointedly turned her gaze towards Danny. “Um,” Danny started, eloquent as ever, “Vlad never, ah, gave up the ghost when it came to this kind of thing.”
“More to the point,” Valerie added when it was clear Danny would not elaborate further, “Mr. Masters is actively researching ghosts, hunting them, and equipping me, and he’s the only one who knows exactly what Danny got hit with.”
“Then we’ll just explain the situation to him—”
“It gets worse,” Valerie said, bluntly overriding Maddie’s words. “Mr. Masters knows exactly what he’s doing because he’s like Danny. He knows about Danny, and he was still happy to fight him one-on-one and to pit me against him. Even you guys have to know how messed up that is.”
In the stunned silence that followed, instinctive protests dying on unsure lips, Lancer couldn’t have been the only one to hear his front door open. He certainly wasn’t the only one to hear it slam shut. And then— “Oh, no, a ghost! Mom, Dad, I saw a ghost outside!”
That was, quite unmistakably, Jazz Fenton.
Lancer wasn’t surprised that she’d come in unannounced; in addition to relaying Danny’s message, he’d given her his address and asked her to come by as soon as she could. No, he was surprised that it sounded like she was trying to get her parents out of the way.
Again.
Her tone wasn’t especially convincing to Lancer’s ears—it lacked any real fear—and Danny made no effort to hide his wince, but despite what Jack and Maddie now knew about their son’s circumstances, they still exchanged looks. “I’ll check it out,” Jack murmured in a quieter tone than Lancer had ever heard from the man. “Might be a real threat.” Then, in his usual boisterous tone, he boomed, “Don’t worry, Jazzerincess, I’ll make sure we’re safe!”
Jack thundered out of the room, and Jazz appeared in the doorway seconds later, backtracking along her father’s path.
Now that Lancer knew to watch for any of this, he didn’t miss how Jazz’s eyebrows climbed when she spotted Valerie, even if she schooled her surprise almost immediately.
The message he’d left on her phone hadn’t contained anything remotely close to everything, but clearly he needn’t have worried about that.
“Are you okay, little brother?”
“I’m okay.” Then, perhaps seeing the doubt that Jazz was making no effort to hide, Danny repeated, “Really. I’m okay. They…they know.”
Jazz blinked before her eyes darted around the room.
“All of them,” Danny added as Jazz’s eyes met his again, and then she smiled.
“Good. That makes this a lot easier.” She dropped down onto the bed and reached over to hug her mother and brother. “I’m glad you decided to tell them.”
“I’m afraid I didn’t give him much choice,” Lancer said as the family pulled apart. He didn’t want to interrupt their lovely family moment, but there were some rather pressing matters to attend to. “It became increasingly clear that even if young Mr. Fenton is not in any immediate danger, he is far from out of it.”
“I don’t think any of us are exactly wandering around free of danger,” Valerie pointed out. “This is Amity Park. Even if we weren’t the ones out hunting ghosts, there’s still a good chance we’d be caught in an attack.”
“You know what I mean, Miss Gray.”
She grimaced. “Yeah, I do. Look, Mrs. Fenton,” she said, turning her attention away from Lancer again, “Mr. Masters really isn’t who you think he is. He’s definitely not who I thought he was, so you can’t think of him like your old college friend. Because he’s not. And even if he thinks that this—” she waved a hand at Danny “—isn’t actively hurting Danny and that makes it better somehow, his thinking is still messed up.”
Lancer watched Maddie open her mouth, look at her son, and close it again, and he had a feeling that he knew what she was feeling.
“Vlad’s known that I was Phantom since that reunion,” Danny said quietly, “and he hasn’t, um, always exactly shied away from almost killing me. Or Jazz.”
Jazz shivered. “I think I’ll take a gladiator-style fight over almost being blasted by a death ray with no warning, thanks.”
“What?”
The question burst out of him at the same time it did Maddie and Valerie, and Danny actually smirked. Smirked. As if it were comical.
Gallows humour, Lancer supposed, but still. It hadn’t sounded like the situations Jazz spoke of were exactly theoretical, and situations such as she’d mentioned should be theoretical. Death rays? Gladiator-style fights? This was Amity Park, not…not….
“To be fair, the last one was Spectra’s doing,” Danny said. “Don’t hire her ever again, okay, Mr. Lancer? She might be able to pass as a human sometimes, but she’s a ghost that feeds off negative emotions, and Bertrand will shapeshift into whatever he needs to be to help her.”
Lancer swallowed.
Valerie looked queasy.
Maddie looked like she’d taken a punch to the gut.
Every time he thought he knew the story, there was more to it. And he was told just enough of it to realize that there was so much more being left unsaid, all because it wasn’t deemed relevant to their current situation. He could understand not knowing himself, could understand Valerie, but Maddie and Jack must feel it worse than he ever had, being closer to the situation themselves. Being as involved in it as they were. And now, with Vlad—
The all-too-familiar sound of the Fenton Bazooka discharging reached Lancer’s ears, followed by Jack Fenton’s familiar yells and threats.
Danny stared at his sister even as his mother untangled herself and ran out of the room, presumably to join her husband outside. “I thought you were lying about seeing a ghost. My ghost sense never went off.”
“I was,” Jazz said, biting her lip. “I didn’t know you’d told them.”
Valerie, who had darted to the window, let out a curse that would have earned her detention if she’d been on school grounds. “We need to get outside. I don’t see anyone really powerful, but it still looks like we’re surrounded. They’re covering themselves well enough.”
“But your sensors—”
“Obviously aren’t working,” she snapped at Danny, unable to control the note of panic in her voice. “If they were, my watch would’ve gone off, like it always does.”
“But wasn’t it working earlier? Isn’t that why you found me?”
Valerie’s suit suddenly appeared, closing itself over her and hiding her grim expression. “Yeah. It was.”
Her voice sounded as clear as ever. Whether due to the nature of the technology or some built-in speakers, her suit didn’t muffle her voice at all. He should have recognized it long ago, just as he should have recognized Phantom’s.
In truth, though, thinking about that was merely a distraction from thinking about the fact that her suit had just enclosed her without any visible prompting, without any visible technology as a starting point.
Of course, the fact that he didn’t have the time to speculate about any of this was a decent justification for ignoring those disturbing implications for now.
This time, as Valerie ran out of the room, Danny was the one to let out a curse that earned him an admonishment from Jazz with a not-so-subtle glance in his direction. Danny rolled his eyes and untangled himself from the covers as he said, “That means Vlad knows, Jazz. Maybe not everything, but enough. Like the fact that Valerie isn’t going to shoot me. And probably the fact that he can’t hold my secret over me as leverage.” He grabbed the net gun from the bedside table and was on his feet before his sister could stop him.
Lancer’s home was about to become ground zero for a ghost fight, and he wasn’t sure he could feel more ill-prepared for it, even if he did have a Fenton Thermos with him.
Jazz got to her feet as Danny headed down the hall, willfully oblivious of her glare. “He’s just going to make himself worse,” she muttered, and Lancer couldn’t help but agree.
“Can you think of a way to convince him to stay out of this?”
A snort. “Short of knocking him out, no, but I don’t want to the ghosts’ job for them.” She looked him up and down, then asked, “Do you want an offensive weapon? I’ve got more than one Fenton Lipstick on me.”
Oh, for The Fellowship of the Ring, she must already be carrying weapons around the school. Disguised as makeup, no less. True, he’d once thought that Danny might be the one carrying that particular weapon around due to its small size, at least until he’d realized that Danny wasn’t simply helping Phantom, but Jazz wouldn’t even be questioned about it.
He was going to have to pretend she’d never made that offer. This would hardly be the first day she’d have had such a weapon on her, and there hadn’t been any incidents. She was responsible. He could turn a blind eye to this, just as he had to other stuff in the past.
If something happened, though, and it got out that he’d known, that he’d even had an inkling, he’d lose his job, and no doubt all his savings trying to deal with the fallout—
“I don’t think that would be wise,” he said. “I’ve hardly acquired the necessary aim and precision to use such a weapon effectively.”
“You’ve seen my dad in a ghost fight, right?”
Lancer winced.
“Yeah, I used to not be much better until I practiced, but that unpredictability isn’t always a bad thing. The key is just to avoid hitting Danny. With anything. Including the thermos beam.”
Lancer unclipped the thermos from his belt and held it out to her. “Would you care to do the honours?” She was no doubt far more practiced with it than him. He’d used it as a prop in his model train set far more often than for its actual purpose.
She shook her head. “You’d better have something to defend yourself. Valerie didn’t exactly sound confident. Even if she didn’t think there were any strong ghosts out there, they’ve got numbers on their side. Not to mention all their powers.”
The Red Huntress lacking confidence in their chances wasn’t a comforting thought, considering Lancer was still paying off his mortgage. He could hardly afford all the repairs he’d need to do if this attack got messy. Of course, scrambling to find the money to rebuild was infinitely preferable to losing something that couldn’t be replaced, and he was all too aware of how lucky Amity Park had been on that front.
He had never felt particularly lucky, but that was only when he was taking stock of all the injuries, of all the damage, of all the hard work and healing that lay ahead.
He did, however, feel incredibly thankful that Amity Park had always had that opportunity, that nothing had ever been…permanent.
Were this to become the last day he fought, at least he would be trying to do some good. He was under no illusion that he wouldn’t be swiftly forgotten. He could be replaced far more easily than anyone else who’d stood in this room moments ago, and it was all too likely that his replacement would be one of his betters—providing Casper High could pay anyone enough for the job, though in truth they’d merely promote one of their existing staff; Falluca wouldn’t turn it down, he was sure—and aim to fill a lower-paying position….
“Mr. Lancer, aren’t you coming?”
From the way Jazz was looking at him, it was not the first time she’d called his name.
“Yes,” he said, holding the thermos in both hands and trying to keep the tremors from showing. “Yes, I am.”
He must.
XXXXX
Danny stepped outside looking like Fenton, not Phantom. If these ghosts tried to drag him off, it was better to make it look like it was an actual kidnapping attempt for when they managed to link it back to Vlad.
Not that these were Vlad’s best. Danny could see the three vultures circling overhead, an ectopus or five lurking in the shadows, but no Skulker. No Technus, unless he was in the power lines, which frankly was entirely possible. Of course, by that reckoning, there could be a lot more ghosts. A lot more invisible ghosts, since anyone smart would’ve made themselves a harder target to find the moment Valerie got out here. Vlad could’ve even sent a clone or two, and Danny would have no idea.
Depressed powers. Depressed ghost sense. It figured he wouldn’t get warning. He’d just counted on the fact that Valerie would get warning, so he hadn’t let it bother him too much once she’d turned up and decided not to shoot him.
How closely must Vlad have been tracking her to realize she’d found out the truth and decided to ally with Danny?
What if Vlad actually was here and had decided to leave a clone to deal with all that mayoral stuff he was supposed to be busy with?
Nah, that was too dangerous. If he got beaten here and lost his concentration, he’d risk the mayor disappearing in front of someone, and that would invite questions. Vlad had the snake oil sell down pat, but he didn’t want people poking their noses into his business.
And, well, he didn’t like getting his hands dirty. He much preferred letting other people—ghosts, more likely than not—do that for him. He got to pretend to take the moral high ground, wreathed in plausible deniability, and—
“Keep moving, Danno,” Jack called, reaching out to pull Danny off to the side as a streak of light shot forward and scorched the cement step where he’d been standing. “Moving targets are harder to hit.”
Oh, the irony of hearing that advice from him.
Still, that ectoblast had come from a ghost Danny hadn’t seen, which meant there was at least one invisible ghost lurking around, and they knew perfectly well he couldn’t sense them. He squinted against the sunlight, trying to spot a glimmer in the sky that wasn’t there, even as Valerie streaked overhead and broke apart the vultures’ formation. “Do you have a Fenton Finder in the GAV?”
“Front weapons compartment, passenger side.”
“On it.” Danny weaved as he ran, using every skill he’d pretended not to have while playing dodgeball in gym when he was awake enough to think about it. Okay, so that was a bit generous. He hobbled quickly in a pattern that was unpredictable as much because he was still sore and stiff and it hurt to move as because going in a straight line would be idiotic, even if the ghosts had overheard him or could otherwise guess his goal.
A movement at the hedge on his right caught his eye. An ectopus. Danny slowed, shifted slightly to adjust his aim, shot a net in its direction, and kept going even as he pressed the net release. The Fenton Net Guns were well made and rarely jammed, and Danny doubted Lancer had used it more than once or twice—assuming he’d tried it out at all—which meant it would be full or nearly so. He wouldn’t have to worry about running out of nets any time soon even when he released the nets and let the next one load instead of reeling in his previous shot.
Three painful breaths later, Danny was reaching out for the door handle on the GAV.
A bolt of pink energy got there first, hitting the passenger door inches from his fingers. He jerked back, feeling its heat. The light scattered, hissing and spitting for another precious breath before fizzling out entirely.
Valerie usually didn’t let her shots go that wild. Danny wanted to look, to turn and find her and see if there was anything he could do to help even though he knew his parents and Jazz would have her back, but he stayed where he was. The GAV was fine—it was built like a tank, and the outside was ecto-proofed, which was just as effective against ghosts as ghost weaponry powered by converted ecto-energy—but between his close call and the abruptness of that movement, Danny was not. He felt suddenly, horribly nauseous. The pounding in his head was back with a vengeance, and it made his stomach turn.
He knew he needed to move.
He knew staying in one spot was a bad idea.
Instead of running like he wanted them to, his legs buckled. He found himself clutching handfuls of grass, trying to keep his meagre stomach contents down as he waited for the world to stop spinning.
He was not ready for a fight.
He was not ready for any fight.
Running had been stupid.
He should have just stayed in bed.
Except then they would’ve broken into Lancer’s house to find him, and that arguably would’ve ended worse, at least for Mr. Lancer and his few thousand books.
“Danny! Are you okay?”
Danny didn’t dignify Jazz’s distorted exclamation with an answer. She had eyes. She could use them. And he wasn’t sure opening his mouth was a great idea right now.
“Fenton Finder’s under the front passenger seat!”
“So’s the Spectral Shield prototype! Grab that, too, sweetie!”
No. This was better. He might not be in any shape to fight, but his family was here. And Valerie. Even Mr. Lancer, though Danny didn’t have any idea if he was remotely good in a fight. Danny doubted it; he was more likely the reason Maddie wanted Jazz to grab the personal ghost shield. Unless she thought Danny needed it? A five foot radius when fighting with a net gun—
Something shattered—window—and Danny winced. At least windows were replaceable. At least—
The smell of scorched hair hit his nose. Danny heaved, coughed, blinked, and tried to fight down his nausea. Best not to think about that. Thinking about it wasn’t helping. Instead, he focused on taking a slow, deliberate breaths. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Wait until sound and light and balance were normal, and then try to get up. Simple.
Danny’s nose was inches from the grass, but he didn’t look up. The sizzle and zap and boom and crack of the ectoblast battle—or the accompanied yelling—wasn’t enough to cover up the click and thump and bang of Jazz opening the door to the GAV and digging out the inventions from beneath the front seat. It was almost enough to make him relax, knowing that she had that part under control.
Unfortunately, the fighting wasn’t loud enough to drown out the voice that practically purred in his ear, “Still feeling a little under the weather, are we, little badger?”
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tearsofthemis · 4 years
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[Date] 左然 Zuo Ran: 「醉意入怀 Drunken Bottled Truths」
Preview:
“Why... I told you, to come find me when you run into trouble. Why did you have to... with him... Do you always trust others this easily!?”
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Keep reading for the full date!
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▌Location- Themis Law Firm, Break Room
Beep beep beep-- it was four-thirty in the afternoon, and my alarm went off on my phone. I closed the notification, saved the document I was working on, and closed my laptop. I brought my makeup bag from my desk into the break room and started my routine. There’s a business reception tonight, organized by the famous watchmaker brand in Stellis City, “LingXi Watches”. Zuo Ran had been responsible for one of their lawsuits and had been invited to attend. In turn, Zuo Ran extended the invitation to me as his plus one.)
MC: (Maybe I should spend more time practicing how to put on makeup… My skills are seriously lacking… Oh well, I should be fine with a little foundation. I don’t think I should attempt anything more advanced than that.)
Just as I was rummaging through my bag of makeup products, the break room door opened. ChengCheng peeked in to the breakroom and quickly rushed over to me.
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ChengCheng: “Psst, is it true that you’ll be attending LingXi Watches’s reception with Lawyer Zuo tonight?”
MC: “Yeah, why, what’s wrong?”
Suddenly, ChengCheng clasped my hands in hers and looked at me with sparkling eyes.
ChengCheng: “I beg you… I only have this one wish in my life! If it’s not too much trouble, I beg you… you gotta help me!”
MC: “What is it?”
ChengCheng: “My favorite star is attending LingXi Watches’s party as their spokesperson. If you get a chance to meet him, can you help me get his autograph…”
ChengCheng continued to explain; I couldn’t get a word in.
ChengCheng: “I’m not asking for you to hound him or anything like that! If… the opportunity should present itself, won’t you try and ask him for me…”
MC: “Alright, I’ll try. No guarantees though-”
ChengCheng wrapped me in a tight bear hug before I could finish my sentence.
ChengCheng: “Of course, of course! I owe you my life in thanks! MC, you’re like an angel sent down from above!”
▌Location- Zuo Ran’s Office
At the same time…
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Zhai Xing: “Are you really planning on taking MC to tonight’s banquet?”
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Zuo Ran: “That’s right, why?”
Zhai Xing: “The reception isn’t exclusive to businesspeople; there’s going to be celebrities attending as well. I remember… Gao ShengHan, LingXi Watches’s spokesperson, will be in attendance.”
Zuo Ran: “You pay attention to celebrity news?”
Zhai Xing: “Of course not, I only know him because he recently starred in a popular new drama about love in the workplace. In the end, all the ladies in our firm were raving about him, so I remembered his name. I heard that Gao ShengHan is deemed ‘the senior we’d kill to work with’.”
Zhai Xing glanced at Zuo Ran and gave him a pointed look.
Zhai Xing: “Aren’t you scared that she’ll…?”
Zuo Ran: “I don’t think she’s the type of person to be attracted to TV personalities. Besides, dramas like that aren’t based on reality. A relationship is built upon a foundation of mutual understanding and trust.”
Zhai Xing: “What you just described is defined as a slow-burn love. Now, let’s not forget that ‘love at first sight’ still exists. Hold on - what did you just say? ‘Dramas like that-’? What do you even know about TV tropes? You’ve watched his show?”
Zuo Ran awkwardly coughed, got up, and fixed his tie.
Zuo Ran: “There’s not much time left, I’ll head out first.”
~~~
▌Location- Parking Lot
Zuo Ran drove us to the hotel venue, and we arrived close to the banquet start time. This was my first time accompanying Zuo Ran as his plus one. In the past, I had only attended strictly as his assistant. I couldn’t help but feel nervous. I closed my eyes and took a couple deep breaths. Just then, Zuo Ran spoke up beside me.
Zuo Ran: “Ah, there’s something I have to remind you of.”
MC: “What is it?”
Zuo Ran: “There’s going to be all kinds of people at the reception. If anyone tries to force you to accept drinks, you need not go along with them. Immediately come find me if it happens.”
MC: “B-but the guests tonight all have some kind of social standing. If I refuse their invites, it won't look good for them…”
I hesitated. Even if I didn’t have experience attending parties like this, it would sound rude if I refused.
MC: “I’m not going as my own entity, my actions may directly impact Themis.”
Not to mention, I’ll be representing Zuo Ran as well… I can’t afford to do anything that might upset the guests; I’ll end up only causing trouble for Zuo Ran.
MC: “Also, what if the other party is a client of Themis… it’ll be a good opportunity to get our firm’s name out there.”
Zuo Ran: “I don’t need to drink to pull clients. Themis isn’t asking that of you, either.”
Zuo Ran smiled gently when he noticed that I was nervous.
Zuo Ran: “All you have to do is be your everyday self. You’re the partner I’ve chosen, let your professionalism sway others for you. Believe in yourself, and trust me.”
He spoke directly and calmly, his words carrying a gentle strength.
MC: “... I understand.”
--- PART 2 ---
▌Location- Banquet Venue
Even with Zuo Ran’s reassuring presence, I felt nervous walking into the venue. I checked out the beautiful hotel decor, and my sights settled on someone who stood out in the crowd.
MC: (Is… Isn’t that Gao ShengHan?)
ChengCheng’s wish popped into mind, I hurriedly pulled out the picture she had handed me earlier so that I could confirm it was really Gao ShengHan.
MC: “It really is Gao ShengHan!”
I accidentally spoke my mind, and Zuo Ran turned around at the sound of my voice.
Zuo Ran: “What is it? Someone you recognize?”
MC: “A-ah, not quite, I just saw someone famous, and I can’t help but feel starstruck.”
Zuo Ran looked over my shoulder, and saw Gao ShengHan. He raised a brow at me.
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Zuo Ran: “...”
MC: “Seeing him up close in person, he’s actually quite…”
I turned around as I spoke, and met Zuo Ran’s sharp gaze. He was frowning, searching my face with an expression so strange that I couldn’t even begin to describe it.
Zuo Ran: “You… care about him?”
MC: “I guess so, his recent TV drama is quite popular.”
Zuo Ran quieted, and he glanced at the photo in my hand.
MC: (C-crap… does Lawyer Zuo think I accompanied him just so I can meet celebrities? That’s so unprofessional!)
I quickly shoved the picture of Gao ShengHan back into my clutch, and awkwardly reassured him.
MC: “T-that... Lawyer Zuo! I promise this will not hinder my work! Th-the picture… it’s…”
Zuo Ran: “...”
One of LingXi Watches’s executives approached us and began to discuss the aftermath of their court victory with Zuo Ran, thus I couldn’t finish explaining myself. The case was one that Zuo Ran had worked on all by himself before I had become his work partner. My presence beside Zuo Ran might hinder his discussion, so I quietly left his side.
On the other side of the banquet hall, Gao ShengHan was entertaining a small group of people. ChengCheng’s wish popped up in my mind again, but…
MC: “The people he’s with right now… must be a bunch of hotshots… How can a small-time lawyer such as myself approach the nation’s husband…”
As I stood aside brainstorming ways that I could approach Gao ShengHan, he started walking towards me.
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Gao ShengHan: “Hi, I was wondering if you were Lawyer MC?”
MC: “Ah! Yes, I am, nice to meet you. You’ve… heard of me?”
Gao ShengHan: “Of course. You were the one who defended PAX Group's Mr. Lu Jinghe from accusation, right? I followed the news coverage and even watched videos of the trial; it was very exciting.”
MC: “You flatter me. I would’ve never thought that an A-list celebrity such as yourself would pay attention to the subject of law.”
Gao ShengHan: “Ah, actually, I’ve only recently started paying attention.”
MC: “Oh?”
Gao ShengHan smiled and used the topic of the lawsuit to strike up conversation with me. It turned out that he had been cast for an upcoming law drama and was brushing up on a lawyer’s mannerisms, even going as far as to shadow lawyers when they were on the clock. He told me he had reviewed many videos of trials, but there were still things he preferred to talk face to face about with professional lawyers.
Gao ShengHan: “The office drama that just aired was made popular all thanks to the director’s hard work on writing such a phenomenal script. The truth is… my acting is still lacking… I didn’t come from an acting background, so there’s still a lot I have to learn. So I’m hoping that it’ll help if I prepare for the role in advance.”
He spoke with an absolutely charming and boyish determination, but stood firm with a man’s conviction. He was set on chasing his dream of becoming a good actor; it was hard not to like him.
MC: (No wonder ChengCheng likes him so much…)
Gao ShengHan: “Lawyer MC, I was wondering if you would share with me some tips and tricks when it comes to speaking in court?”
I was still working on getting ChengCheng her autograph, and I hastily accepted his request.
MC: “Of course I can! Although it’s been said that facts can triumph over eloquence, in the eyes of the law, it is often that facts will benefit from eloquence. Polishing your debate skills and litigation strategies can get you twice as far, with half the effort.”
Gao ShengHan: “I see, then what about cases with iron-clad evidence, or cases with little to no evidence at all?”
MC: “Then we’ve got to cross-examine whatever they’ve got! A piece of evidence’s authenticity, legitimacy, relevance, and size of the evidence must always be considered and contested.”
That’s how Zuo Ran once dismantled a case with seemingly solid defense.
~~~Flashback~~~
Defendant Xiao Ke was charged with homicide and imprisoned twenty years ago. He escaped after serving his sentence for ten years, and was arrested again after returning home to visit his sickly mother.
Prosecutor: “The prosecutor believes that defendant Xiao Ke’s behavior meets the severity of prison escape. The facts of the crime are clear, and the evidence against him is sufficient.”
Zuo Ran: “On the surface, the defendant’s prison escape is indeed in line with escape crimes. However, I would like to ask the prosecutor, what is the legal benefit infringed by the escape crime?”
Prosecutor: “The interests violated by the escape crime are punishable under the jurisdiction of the normal order of justice.”
Zuo Ran: “Correct, but the defendant’s past prison escape does not violate the normal order of justice, and is rather an incorrect order. The guilty verdict on the count of first-degree homicide twenty years ago was fundamentally a false verdict!”
Prosecutor: “Defendant, I must remind you that the chain of evidence was complete. Both evidence and witness testimony-”
Zuo Ran: “The issue lies within the witness testimony! The time of the incident was 10PM on the eighteenth of February. The witness claimed he saw the defendant Xiao Ke push the victim off the east side of the bridge, resulting in the victim’s death. The witness emphasized that because the skies were clear and the moonlight was bright, he was able to watch the incident’s proceedings very clearly. However, the eighteenth of February was five days after the new moon, thus sufficient light could not have been provided. Secondly, the moon would have risen from the west, making the moonlight shine from west to east. If the suspect had pushed the victim off the east side of the bridge, his face could not have been seen solely by moonlight. Allow me to ask, how could the witness under those conditions see the defendant’s face at the bridgehead twenty meters away?”
One by one, Zuo Ran cross-examined the evidence the prosecutor had provided, tearing into each discrepancy.
~~~Flashback ends~~~
Gao ShengHan: “Th-that’s incredible! Just like that, he managed to overturn the court ruling! But… even if it were a false verdict, it must have been difficult to win a retrial. Although I’m not well versed in law, people have always been unwilling to admit their own mistakes…”
MC: “Well, that…”
Zuo Ran’s statement of defense back then, as a lawyer myself, and as his partner, I shared the glory and triumph of his success.
~~~Flashback~~
Zuo Ran: “The evidence presented by the prosecution for the incident cannot form a complete system of proof. According to the principle of a false verdict, the defendant Xiao Ke’s initial ruling cannot be established, and he was falsely sentenced. Since he was falsely imprisoned to begin with, where is the escape crime? Therefore, the defendant’s prison break, cannot even be labelled as such.”
The jury broke out in a frenzy of discussion after Zuo Ran’s defense. He looked squarely at the jury and spoke again, the sound of his voice quelling the murmurs.
Zuo Ran: “The purpose of upholding the law is not just limited to punishing criminals, but also to protect the rights of those who are innocent. Criminal law must be obliged to not only protect our country from offenders, but also to protect the wrongly accused as well as the prosecutors who put them there. If there does not exist such procedural justice, the upholding of justice itself will be as pointless as water without a source. Then, the dignity of the law will fall apart. The defendant hereby appeals to the court, to uphold the spirit of seeking nothing but the truth, and asks for a reevaluation of the evidence. We ask on the basis of the criminal justice system as the criterion, the defendant be pronounced innocent in accordance with the law.”
~~~Flashback ends~~~
The calm and orderly manner in which Zuo Ran delivers criticism, that is the masterful way in which Zuo Ran works his magic in court. And I think it’s an art, the best speech arts in the world.
Gao ShengHan: “I see! No wonder I felt a sense of Deja Vu when I was watching the trial… After hearing about Lawyer Zuo’s speech-- I can see that you two share similar debate styles!”
MC: “Huh?”
I’ll admit that I’ve picked apart Zuo Ran’s technique and mannerisms in court, trying my best to mimic him when I have spare time, but…
MC: “I’m far from reaching his level.”
Gao ShengHan: “No, I don’t think so. You’re close, very close to his skill level. Especially with the emotional control of the room, the way you conceal your intention behind hidden meanings so that your opponent says what you want them to…”
Gao ShengHan listed notes that he had taken on my style after watching my trial. He analyzed the similarities between our presence in court through the perspective of an actor.
MC: (So to other people, this is what they see?)
I subconsciously scanned the sea of bodies for Zuo Ran’s familiar frame. He was still talking to the LingXi executive, his expression calm and indifferent. Suddenly, he must have felt someone watching as he returned my gaze and looked at me.
MC: “!!!”
I hurriedly turned away. Gao ShengHan didn't notice that I was distracted as he continued rambling.
Gao ShengHan: “Ah, I just remembered, you’re Lawyer Zuo’s partner, right? I’ve heard other people mention that you two are a natural pair…”
~~~
On the other side of the banquet hall, Zuo Ran was still responding to the executive’s incessant questions, but his attention gradually began to slip away to watch a certain corner of the room. There, Gao ShengHan and the girl were talking amiably; they seemed to have hit it off. The girl turned to look at him, then quickly looked away. Just then, a vivid smile blossomed on the girl’s face. Her cheeks were pink, and her eyes were sparkling, almost as if she had confided in the other man a secret that she had held deep in her heart.
Zuo Ran: “...”
Zuo Ran’s gaze narrowed, and he subconsciously itched the palm of his hand.
--- PART 3 ---
▌Location- Banquet hall
After Gao ShengHan and I finished our discussion about debate techniques, he thanked me profusely.
MC: “Ah, it was nothing. Then, Mr. Gao, can I ask you for a favor? It’s like this, er, I have a really good friend…”
I recounted to Gao ShengHan what ChengCheng had said to me in the breakroom, and he happily agreed to sign the photo.
MC: “Thank you so much!”
Gao ShengHan: “You’re very welcome! I should be the one thank you, honestly. Chatting with you has helped me a lot. And I would’ve never guessed that your co-worker has been supporting me ever since I debuted. Ah, aside from the autograph, let me film a shout out too! Would you help me take the video?”
MC: “Of course!”
MC: (Hehe… ChengCheng is going to flip when she sees this!)
I can just picture ChengCheng frothing at the mouth after I bring her the autograph, and a personal video to boot as I quickly pulled out my phone. Gao ShengHan waved enthusiastically at my camera and thanked her for her support and encouragement. After I ended the recording, he suddenly remembered something.
Gao ShengHan: “Actually, Lawyer MC, I’m looking into starting my own studio. If it’s alright, would you help me with the studio’s legal aspect?”
Who knew I’d be the one to find new clients here!
MC: “Thank you for putting your trust with us, I’ll inform Lawyer Zuo in a bit.”
Gao ShengHan: “Then I’ll have to trouble you for that. To commemorate our upcoming collaboration, and to express my thanks for your help earlier, let’s have a toast.”
Gao ShengHan flagged down the server, who brought two flutes of champagne over.
MC: “Then…”
~~~Flashback~~~
Zuo Ran: “Ah, there’s something I have to remind you of.”
Zuo Ran: “There’s going to be all kinds of people at the reception. If anyone tries to force you to accept drinks, you need not go along with them. Immediately come find me if it happens.”
~~~Flashback ends~~~
I looked at the champagne Gao ShengHan expectantly held out to me, and after I recalled Zuo Ran’s advice from earlier, I hesitated a little.
[Select: Don’t decline]
MC: (It doesn’t seem like he’s forcing me to drink with him… Besides, Gao ShengHan did sign the autograph, and he’s looking to collaborate with Themis. It’ll look really bad if I refuse…)
Gao ShengHan: “Lawyer MC?”
MC: “Ah, thank you. A toast, then…”
I didn’t finish my sentence as a hand reached out to grab my wrist, interrupting us. It was Zuo Ran. He walked over to my side, and wordlessly separated Gao ShengHan and I.
Zuo Ran: “Gao ShengHan?”
MC: “Lawyer Zuo?”
Gao ShengHan: “Ah! You’re the famous Barrister Zuo! It’s an honor to meet you in the flesh!”
Gao ShengHan held out his hand for a handshake. Zuo Ran glanced at Gao ShengHan, raised his hand, and shook it very formally.
Zuo Ran: “Ah, pardon my intrusion, Mr. Gao. My partner here doesn’t take well to alcohol, I’ll take the drink in her stead.”
I stood frozen in shock as Zuo Ran plucked my champagne flute out of my hand, touched it against Gao ShengHan’s, and downed the drink. Our chat was cut shortly after Zuo Ran’s interruption. Zuo Ran stayed glued to my side for the rest of the night after that. Perhaps it was due to his naturally imposing aura, but no one else dared to propose a toast to us, and instead, opted to respectfully stick to business talk.
~~~
▌Location- The backseat of a taxi
The rest of the night passed in a blink of an eye. Since Zuo Ran had drunk, I hailed us a taxi. After we clamored into the back, all Zuo Ran said to me was, “We’ll drop you off first,” before falling completely silent. He leaned into the seat as a set of ocean-blue eyes looked out of the cab’s window at the passing city lights, seemingly lost in thought. The neon lights flickered over his face, and all I could see was his somber face light up in shades of blue, pink, green, and yellow. I don’t know why, but Zuo Ran seemed to be quite low-spirited.
MC: (Has he been working too hard? Or maybe the LingXi executives asked difficult questions? If I tell Lawyer Zuo about collaborating with Gao ShengHan’s studio, will it help cheer him up? It definitely will! Afterall, this is such a well known client!)
MC: “Lawyer Zuo, I was talking with Gao ShengHan earlier. He’s planning on building his own studio label. He has a lot of trust for Themis Law Firm, and he wants to hire me to act as the studio’s legal consultant.”
Zuo Ran: “... You want to accept his commission?”
MC: “Yes, afterall civil and commercial law is my strength and-”
Just as I was going to suggest bringing ChengCheng along as an assistant, Zuo Ran interrupted me.
Zuo Ran: “...I’m sorry, let’s pick this up tomorrow. I’d like to rest.”
Zuo Ran closed his eyes and leaned against the headrest. After seeing how tired he looked, I instantly clammed up.
MC: “Al- alright.”
MC: (Lawyer Zuo must be absolutely exhausted…)
I quickly grabbed my phone and turned off the ringer. I didn’t want to disrupt Zuo Ran while he rested. Just then, a notification from ChengCheng popped up. She had sent me a pleading eyes emoji. I smiled at her impatience, and sent Gao ShengHan’s video over to her. As expected, ChengCheng was ecstatic, and my phone buzzed nonstop as she spammed me with countless reaction photos and gifs of Gao ShengHan: him acting cute, showing gratefulness, hearts, and kisses.
MC: (She’s so happy, I don’t think she’ll get any sleep tonight! Today, I’ve learned that Gao ShengHan is truly a man with many expressions. I scrolled through the countless stickers and gifs. Infected by ChengCheng’s bubbly texts, I couldn’t help but smile.)
Zuo Ran: “...Ugh!”
A sigh resounded by my ear. Zuo Ran reached out and grabbed my phone. He glared at me as his brows furrowed into deep lines on his forehead.
MC: “Lawyer Zuo?”
Zuo Ran didn’t respond. Instead, he flopped over on top of me, and I rushed to prop him up. Zuo Ran fell asleep with his head resting on my shoulder, drawing in small rasping breaths with the smell of alcohol hanging onto every breath.
MC: “Lawyer Zuo, are you drunk?”
I quickly told the cab driver to turn around after giving him Zuo Ran’s address.
--- PART 4 ---
After we arrived at Zuo Ran’s condo, he still wasn’t awake. It was a relief that I remembered Zuo Ran’s address and apartment number, I said to myself as I helped him up the elevator and into his home.
▌Location- Zuo Ran’s living room
MC: “Hu… Lawyer Zuo, you’re home…”
I guided him over to his couch, and laid him down.
MC: “Lawyer Zuo, how are you feeling? You… you should rest on the sofa for a bit. Once you feel better, take a hot shower before heading to bed, alright?”
It’s quite late, and I’m worried about Zuo Ran. There’s no way I can stay here to take care of him; all I can do is try and leave him with reassuring words.
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Zuo Ran: “Hnng…”
It was a struggle getting him back to his suite, and Zuo Ran’s custommade suit was wrinkled from all the tugging and pulling. He stayed motionless in the position that I had left him in on the couch. I’m guessing he’s all out of strength. His skin was still flushed from the alcohol, his hair a mess atop his head, and his pretty brows were drawn tight in discomfort.
MC: “Lawyer Zuo…”
Zuo Ran: “Water…”
Zuo Ran raised his hand and felt around on the ottoman, knocking several things down in the process.
MC: “I’ll go get it for you! Just stay put, I’ll bring you some warm honey water!”
I hesitated on leaving Zuo Ran alone, but I quickly got up and brought him a mug of honey water. I helped him upright, and held the mug for him as he took tiny sips. I watched as his lips glistened with water; they looked really soft.
MC: “...”
My heart pounded in my chest, and I forced myself to look away. Just then, Zuo Ran must have felt hot, for he started pulling at his tie. But no matter how hard he tugged, the tie wouldn’t give way. He scrunched his brows in frustration.
MC: “Is the tie uncomfortable, Lawyer Zuo?”
He grunted and resumed tugging on his tie.
Zuo Ran: “Take… it off…”
I obeyed, helping Zuo Ran take off his suit jacket, and then attempted to loosen his tie. One minute later…
MC: (H-how do you even take off a tie…)
I struggled with the fabric. I didn’t want to use too much force and risk accidentally choking Zuo Ran. His flushed skin brushed against my fingertips, and I forced myself to banish those risky thoughts. After several failed attempts, his tie remained immaculate, whilst I had already accidentally loosened his shirt collar and several buttons in the process…
MC: (W-what do I do now…)
My mind was mush. My vision blurred, and refused to focus on anything other than Zuo Ran’s neck as his Adam's apple bobbed when he swallowed. His collarbone peeked out from his dress skirt, and I could see the beginning of a plane of hard muscle.
MC: “!!!”
MC: (I should have looked up a tutorial…!)
I fumbled through my clutch to retrieve my phone, and searched up how to remove a tie. I finally loosened the tie after following step by step instructions. I didn’t even have time to let out the breath I was holding as a breathy sigh drifted past my ear.
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Zuo Ran: “You…”
I raised my head and looked into his deep blue eyes. Blue like fizzy soda bubbles and hazy in condensation. Blue, like the rolling hills covered by rain and mist south of Yangtze River: faint, warm, and endless.  Only then did I notice how close our faces were - close enough to share our breaths.
Zuo Ran: “...”
I bolted from the sofa, banging my back up against the corner of the ottoman.
MC: “L-l-l- Lawyer Zuo! I-I- I only… The tie couldn’t undo you.. No … N-no, I meant that you couldn’t undo the tie… Since you’re awake now, I should-”
I stammered through an awkward explanation and tried to inch my way closer to the door in an attempt to escape.
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Zuo Ran: “Don’t… leave.”
Zuo Ran overtook me in a bound as he grabbed me, pinning me flush against the wall. He looked directly at me as he took ragged and needy gasps of air. The smell of his cedar aftershave and fruity champagne hit me full force as my knees threatened to buckle.
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MC: “Lawyer Zuo...?”
Zuo Ran swallowed hard, his voice becoming low and raspy.
Zuo Ran: “Why… I’ve told you, to come find me when you run into trouble. Why did you have to… with him…”
MC: “Him…?”
Zuo Ran’s demeanor and questions left me sweating.
Zuo Ran: “Gao… Sheng… Han...“
MC: “O-oh, him…”
I thought about what Zuo Ran told me in the parking lot, and I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of guilt.
MC: “I’m sorry, Lawyer Zuo... At the time I didn’t feel it was right to refuse him… Mr. Gao had been very kind. He helped me with a favor, and even said that he’ll commission us…”
Zuo Ran: “... Very kind?”
MC: “Yes. Don’t worry, I have boundaries, and I would never drink myself silly with other people that easily. Mr. Gao is a good guy, so I-”
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Zuo Ran: “How can you be so certain! You just met him for the first time tonight!”
Zuo Ran’s aura changed in an instant, and it felt like we had been transported back to the courthouse, except I’m now on the receiving end of his scrutiny. In the past, seeing Zuo Ran fired up like this would’ve left me motivated by his passion. But now… I stayed trapped like a deer in the headlights, unsure of whether I should fight or run.
MC: “I…”
Zuo Ran: “Do you always trust others this easily!?”
I couldn’t refute Zuo Ran’s point. He was right, I’ve only just met Gao ShengHan, and I couldn’t possibly know what kind of person he truly was. Still, the Guo ShengHan I met at the banquet who was so hardworking and dedicated to his career, who had wholeheartedly put his faith in Themis… I couldn’t help but speak up for him.
MC: “Just because it was the first time we met, that doesn’t mean one is incapable of judging a person’s character. Mr. Gao is very humble, he’s worked hard to get to where he is today… Even with all the fame and fortune, he’s still very approachable…”
Zuo Ran: “Approachable? What kind of logic is that! He’s an actor, aren’t you wary of the fact that he could be lying to you? You would rather trust his word, over mine…”
Lying … to me??? In the heat of the moment, I forcefully pushed Zuo Ran aside out of frustration. Sure, I might not be close to your level of expertise when it comes to the law, but Zuo Ran, must you belittle me and doubt the fact that I can make my own judgements!
MC: “Zuo Ran, just who do you have a grudge with to say all that?!”
I screamed back at him. The silence in the room was palpable after my outburst as a tense air settled in between us.
Zuo Ran: “...”
He must have been taken aback by my reaction. Zuo Ran was at a loss for words, for once.
MC: “Lawyer Zuo… You’ve had way too much to drink tonight. It’s already so late, I gotta go.”
--- PART 5 ---
▌Location- Outside Zuo Ran’s Condominium
After I left Zuo Ran’s suite, I immediately hailed a taxi and went home. But… half an hour later, I had to turn back.
MC: “I accidentally took Lawyer Zuo’s house keys with me…”
When I was trying to bring him back upstairs, I must have pocketed his keys after I pushed open his door while attempting to hold him upright. And after all that happened, I completely forgot about it until now.
MC: “I gotta hurry, otherwise I’ll cause him even more trouble…”
“He’s lying to you…” Zuo Ran’s words came to mind, and my heart squeezed painfully. Is he unhappy with Gao ShengHan? Or maybe, it was out of line for me to pull new clients for us at the banquet?
~~~
▌Location- Zuo Ran’s living room
I unlocked his door with the keys and tentatively peeked in. Zuo Ran wasn’t in the living room.
MC: (He must be in bed by now… Let’s just put his keys back and get out of here, lest I wake him up…)
I cautiously tiptoed into his living room, and was about to set his keys down on the ottoman. Just then, I nearly tripped over a sprawling mass on the carpet - it was Zuo Ran!
MC: “L- Lawyer Zuo!?”
I hastily helped him off the floor.
MC: “Lawyer Zuo! Are you alright! What’s wrong with you?”
Zuo Ran opened his eyes when I shook him awake. His blurry eyes gradually focused on my face, and once he realized that it was me, he reached out and grabbed my wrist.
Zuo Ran: “MC, you… It’s you…”
MC: “Are you hurt anywhere, Lawyer Zuo? How did you end up on the floor? Are you feeling sick? I’ll go bring you a wet towel so you can wipe your face. Hopefully, that’ll help you feel more comfortable.”
I spoke while getting up in a hurry, but Zuo Ran pulled me back. Without any precaution, I fell into his lap. I could feel his body heat and pulse beneath his skin against the palm of my hands, and I jerked my hands away as if I had been burnt by it.
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MC: “M-my apologies, Lawyer Zuo! I-”
A pair of hands pulled me flush against him, interrupting my sentence.
Zuo Ran: “Don’t go… Don’t leave me…”
Zuo Ran rested his chin on my shoulder, his bangs tickling my ears. He embraced me gently, as if he was scared of me rejecting his advance, but just tight enough that I couldn’t move, as if he was scared that I would leave.
MC: “I was only leaving to grab you a towel…”
He held me even tighter, ignoring my protests, and muttering to himself over and over.
Zuo Ran: “Don’t leave me… alright?”
His voice rasped in my ear, cracking in a vulnerable way that fell far from his usual composure. Like a soft and unbreakable thread, he had ensnared me in his web.
Zuo Ran: “I’m sorry… I must’ve scared you… It’s all my fault… I’m sorry… So don’t leave me…”
MC: “I…”
Is he like this because I left earlier?
Zuo Ran: “Don’t go…”
MC: “Go… where exactly?”
Zuo Ran: “Don’t go over to stand by his side…”
MC: “Who?”
Thankfully, my mind grew clearer.
MC: “Is… Is this about Gao ShengHan’s commission?”
Zuo Ran pulled me even tighter against him as his arms caged me in. So that’s the reason. Lawyer Zuo misunderstood my intentions and assumed that I was quitting my job at Themis and was planning to work for Gao ShengHan’s studio. That’s why he threw a fit… He wasn’t truly upset at me… I wanted to laugh, but was also touched by his sentiment. I gently patted his back.
MC: “How could I leave Themis just to chase after some celebrity…”
Zuo Ran: “You’re so bright and outstanding, I’m not the only one… everyone can see it. I’m just someone with a bad temper. As your partner… I must have added extra stress to your work, but I… say that you’ll be my partner forever and always, alright? So don’t leave me…”
MC: “Lawyer Zuo, you’re over thinking things. I have no intentions to leave.”
My words must have brought him some reassurance. He sighed, sinking against me as he rested his head against the crook of my neck, all the while slowly caressing my hair and letting it glide between his fingers. The calm and self assured Zuo Ran I thought I knew… turned out to be someone so delicate and childish. Unless this is just the alcohol talking, and he’s just treating everything that transpired today, including me, like a dream…
[Examine his hand in my hair]
Zuo Ran’s hair keeps brushing up against my ear, it tickles. I wanted to reach up and brush it aside, but I accidentally brushed his cheek.
Zuo Ran: “I… Must be so dull… Celebrities, they must be fun to be around… You’ll be happier with him… Right?
MC: “How could I be…”
Zuo Ran: “You smiled…”
MC: “What’s that?”
Zuo Ran: “You smiled at him… so many times…”
MC: “Well t-that’s because!”
“Because we were praising you to the high heavens”... How could I say something like that aloud to him…
Zuo Ran: “...No need to cover it up, there’s no need to console me…”
His usual indifference fell through the cracks, his voice sounding incredibly lonely. Is he saying all that to make me consider leaving and collaborate with Gao ShengHan instead? I decided it was probably best not to ask him that.
MC: “It’s true! It’s because… W-we… we were talking about Lawyer Zuo…”
Zuo Ran: “Me? What… about me?
MC: (It’s all good… Lawyer Zuo is so stupid drunk… he shouldn’t be able to recall our conversation in the morning…)
MC: “I told him… that Lawyer Zuo is the best… and that I admire you… Gao ShengHan said… no wonder I was your partner… that we were alike… s-so that’s why I-”
I stuttered through an explanation, feeling the embarrassing twinge of red creep up from my cheeks all the way up to my ears. I felt like I was burning up.
[Examine his arm]
I steadied myself as I held onto Zuo Ran’s arm.
MC: “Er… Lawyer Zuo… Why don’t you have a seat on the couch, does that sound good?”
Zuo Ran: “It’s not good… You’ll just leave me…”
MC: “I already said that I wasn’t leaving…”
Zuo Ran: “You’ll leave…”
Zuo Ran ignored me and continued to slur the same thing over and over, almost as if I’d vaporize into thin air if he let me go. His hot breath fanned across my neck, and I hastily tried to move away from it, only to have him tighten his arms around me.
Zuo Ran: “You said you wouldn’t leave…”
His whining was laced with grief, and I couldn’t help but feel as though I had done something evil.
[Examine Zuo Ran’s neck]
His body heat radiated through my thin dress shirt and settled in my bones.
MC: “Lawyer Zuo… do you feel cold, clinging onto me like this…”
Zuo Ran: “Hah… Cold… You’re cold?”
He pulled me into his lap and pressed me against his chest.
Zuo Ran: “You won’t feel cold like this, right?”
MC: “...!”
[Examine his hand in my hair]
Zuo Ran: “Don’t go…”
MC: “For the last time, I really won’t.”
Zuo Ran: “You kept staring at him… The moment we got there, you were looking for him… You… You even have his photo…”
MC: “I- I was only helping ChengCheng get an autograph.”
Zuo Ran: “Then stay by my side…”
MC: “I will. I’ll stay at Themis, I’ll stay at Themis forever. Because I’m Lawyer Zuo’s partner.”
[Talk to Zuo Ran]
With his head on my shoulder, his breathing gradually grew steady.
MC: “Lawyer Zuo?”
Zuo Ran: “You’re my… destiny…”
MC: “Eh?”
Zuo Ran’s voice fell to an inaudible whisper, I couldn’t comprehend anything he was trying to say.
Zuo Ran: “My everything…”
MC: “Lawyer Zuo?”
I called his name, but received no reply. He must have fallen asleep. I helped Zuo Ran onto the couch, gently laid his head down, and covered him with a blanket. He slept so soundly, it was almost as if I were the one who had hallucinated and conjured up all that had happened, like an out of body experience. But the hammering of my heart told me otherwise. I left Zuo Ran’s suite in a hurry.
--- PART 6 ---
▌Location- Themis Law Firm
The day after the banquet, I handed Gao ShengHan’s autograph to ChengCheng who was waiting by the door, and she held up the photo and cheered.
ChengCheng: “MC, you’re the best! I love you!”
MC: “You should save words like that for your idol.”
ChengCheng: “Of course I will say it to him! But, you deserve my love, too!”
ChengCheng hovered around me excitedly, but then, she pushed up her glasses and settled down.
ChengCheng: “Hang on, why are your dark circles so deep! The banquet ended early enough, didn’t it? I remember that you sent me the video recording at around 9PM. Did anything happen afterward? Unless you had too much to drink and didn't rest well?”
MC: “N-nothing like that happened! I just didn’t sleep well, that’s it!”
My heart pittered loudly when last night’s events rushed to mind. I cautiously peeked around the corner at Zuo Ran’s office, and let out a sigh of relief when I saw that it was empty.
MC: (Lawyer Zuo was completely wasted last night, he probably won’t come to work today right… How fortunate… I don’t know how I should approach him now…)
Just as I was lost in thought, ChengCheng nudged me with her elbow.
ChengCheng: “Good morning, Lawyer Zuo!”
Zuo Ran: “Morning.”
Zuo Ran looked at the signed photo in ChengCheng’s hand, coughed awkwardly, then looked at me.
Zuo Ran: “Uhm. Hold on, come see me in my office.”
MC: “Al-alright.”
I watched Zuo Ran walk away, my heart threatening to jump out of my throat as I stood anxiously.
MC: (Why would Lawyer Zuo want to see me… What if he remembers what happened yesterday?!)
~~~Flashback~~~
Zuo Ran: “You smiled at him… so many times…”
MC: “It’s true! It’s because… W-we… we were talking about Lawyer Zuo…”
Zuo Ran: “Me? What… about me?
MC: (It’s all good… Lawyer Zuo is so stupid drunk… he shouldn’t be able to recall our conversation in the morning…)
MC: “I told him… that Lawyer Zuo is the best… and that I admire you… Gao ShengHan said… no wonder I was your partner… that we were alike… s-so that’s why I-”
~~~Flashback ends~~~
▌Location- Zuo Ran’s office
MC: (I’m so embarrassed…)
I begrudgingly followed Zuo Ran into his office, I didn’t dare look at him, so I kept my head down and stared at the corner of his desk instead.
Zuo Ran: “You mentioned last night that Gao ShengHan wished to collaborate with our law firm for legal consultation in regards to his studio. After confirming the details of the commission with the other party, you may proceed with the contracting process. Startups start from zero, labor and management legal services will be a routine task for you. Risk prevention, business forms and contracts, terms and conditions, of the sort… you must meticulously plan, formulate, construct, and maintain them all.”
Zuo Ran’s voice rang true and indifferent like it always had, like we had returned back to status quo.
MC: “...”
Zuo Ran: “Any questions?”
MC: “None.”
My mind was still reeling from last night’s events, and I couldn’t ask him anything even if I wanted to.
Zuo Ran: “Providing legal consultation for a new business will be a good challenge for you. If there’s anything you’re unsure of, feel free to ask me. Ah, also…”
He hesitated before speaking again.
Zuo Ran: “The entertainment industry… is shrouded in gossip and fake news. If you meet the client alone, it may cause unscrupulous articles to spread. If you’re going to meet with the other party… you must tell me- I’ll go with you.”
MC: “Yes, I know.”
Zuo Ran’s indifference was a great relief to me. It seems like he doesn’t recall what happened… After I came down from my personal emotional rollercoaster, I noticed an ounce of regret peeking out in the corner of my heart… and I understood it less than I understood how it got there in the first place.
MC: “Then, if Lawyer Zuo has nothing else to add, I’ll go and get started!”
I hurriedly scampered out of Zuo Ran’s office.
~~~
After watching the girl leave his office, Zuo Ran relaxed and sank into his seat. Like the way a delayed reaction would be, the back of his ears grew red and hot to the touch.
Zuo Ran: “... I’m sorry… I…”
Zuo Ran paused as the blush creeped from his ears to his cheeks, then he pulled out a small hair tie from his suit pocket. This was left by her last night - and was the tangible proof he needed to convince himself that what happened last night wasn’t a dream.
Zuo Ran: “And now… I don’t know how I can return this to you…”
The silky hair tie in his hands felt just like the way her hair had flowed between his fingers.
Zuo Ran: “In the future…”
Zuo Ran coughed lightly as he looked at the hair tie with quiet eyes.
Zuo Ran: “In the future, I’ll definitely return this to you.”
To the beautiful young eagle that spreads her eager wings and takes to the sky, chasing after a life that she yearns for… If she should fly to places further and further away, then all one can do is encompass the entire sky so that she will stay within reach.
——————
《CREDIT》 Translator: @humi-and-co​​ Editor: @hallowsivy​ 《未定事件簿》Tears of Themis is a 2020 Chinese otome game by 米哈游Mihoyo. All original credits go to 米哈游Mihoyo.
《 VOICE ACTORS 》  Zuo Ran | Zhao Lu: https://weibo.com/mzhaolu Zhai Xing | Fan Churong ChengCheng | V-17 Xiao Zheng: https://weibo.com/u/7360058865
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prettyboyswow · 4 years
Text
The CEO pt. 2
Author’s Note: WOW!! I had no idea how many of you would want a part 2 for The CEO! I’m so glad you all liked modern! Tommy as much as I do! I’m thinking about making this into a 5+ part series, but let me know what you all think in the comments! Again, thank you all so much for your likes, reblogs, comments, messages, etc. It means the world to me to see all of your kind words!! I love y’all!
* flashbacks/texts are in bold and thoughts are in italics! *
Pairing: Modern!Thomas Shelby x fem!reader
Warning: none
Tags: @lucillethings @amirahiddleston @giowritess
The CEO Part 1
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“What was that about,” Emmy raised her eyebrows in confusion, her head nudging in the direction of Mr. Shelby’s retreating form. 
“He was just wishing us a fun evening,” I cleared my throat, handing Macie her water before sitting back in the booth. I breifly glanced at Thomas, catching his eyes across the room. 
“Could we uh, could we dance after my friends have left,” I wet my lips, trying to look anywhere other than his icy blue eyes. From the corner of my eye I saw him furrow his brows ever so slightly before nodding. 
“That’s probably best,” He nodded, taking a small step away from me. “Come find me when you’re free.”
The conversation at the booth jumped from subject to subject, nothing really catching my attention. Tyler had placed his arm around my shoulders in a feeble attempt at flirting. However, my thoughts were consumed by Thomas Shelby, the most handsome man I’d ever seen. All I could think about was his proposal to dance. What did that even mean? He didn’t ask Emmy to dance. He didn’t ask Kyle, Jessica, or Macie either. As much as I wanted it to mean something, it most likely didn’t. The Shelby brothers had a reputation for being popular with the ladies. 
“(Y/N), you okay,” Jessica frowned, watching me over her beer. I straightened my shoulders, nodding slightly. “Mm, yeah. I’m just getting a little tired.”
The rest of the group nodded, Kyle checking his watch, “Yeah, It’s getting pretty late. Maybe we should head out.” 
Emmy stood, stumbling into Kyle’s strong arms, “As much as I hate to admit it, I think I’m drunk.” She giggled as Kyle grabbed her purse, making sure to keep a strong hold on her. Everyone filed out of the booth, grabbing their belongings and leaving a tip for our waitress. 
“You guys go ahead without me. I’m going to head to the bathroom and then catch a cab,” I straightened my dress out and wrapped my arms around myself. 
“Are you sure? I can stay with you,” Tyler looked me over, leaning his head to the side slightly. I nodded and gave a small smile, “I’m sure! I’ll be really quick and I’ll ask a security guard to stand with me while I catch a cab!” 
Just leave so I can dance with my super hot boss, please. Tyler only nodded in response as I hugged everyone goodbye. Once I had seen the last of my co-workers exit the club, I made my way to the bar. I ordered a fruity drink and sat on the nearest empty barstool. 
Okay, (Y/N), you can do this. You can find Thomas Shelby and dance the night away. No big deal. I mean, obviously he wants to be around me. He asked me to dance! I can do this.
I took a large sip of my drink through the bright pink straw before swivelling the barstool to face the rest of the club. Time to scope out Thomas Shelby. Before I had even started searching, I locked eyes with the blue eyed man who was standing a few feet away. He tipped his head slightly at me, watching my every movement. I beckoned him slightly with a nod of my head before turning back towards the bar. 
A moment later, a large, rough hand landed on my upper arm and a pair of lips lowered to my ear, “I think you owe me a dance.”
I grinned, nodding slowly as I turned my face to meet his, “I think you’re right, Mr. Shelby.”
I placed my empty glass on the counter before standing to meet him. He gave me his arm, allowing me to latch arms with him. I could feel my heart beating hard enough to jump out of my chest, praying that I didn’t make a fool of myself in front of him. 
“You don’t seem like the type of person who’d dance to club music, Mr. Shelby,” I let out a nervous laugh, trying not to trip over my own feet as we navigated our way through the crowd of dancing bodies. 
“I’m not,” he stopped in the middle of the dance floor and turned me in his arms. He placed one hand on my waist, the other lacing his fingers through my own. My cheeks flushed red as we stood swaying in the middle of the raving dance floor, our bodies almost flush against each other. 
We danced in silence for a while as I racked my brain to think of something, literally anything to say. His scent was intoxicating and I could feel his gaze on me like a ton of bricks.
The thing about Thomas Shelby was that he was gorgeous. Like super-model-melt-your-eyes kinda gorgous. Not only was he beautiful, he was incredibly smart. He spoke eloquently and intelligently. He captivated the attention of everyone he was around. He was charming, witty, and so mysterious. No one knew much about his private life, no matter how hard the tabloids tried to dig. He kept to himself and his close friends and family. 
All I wanted was a peak behind the curtain. Who was Thomas Shelby when no one else was around? What was his favorite food? When was the last time he cried? What was his favorite memory? His least favorite memory? Did he sleep with the TV on? How does he like his eggs cooked? 
As I stood lost in thought, Thomas pulled me closer, our chests touching ever so slightly, “You’re awfully quiet, aren’t you?”
“I’m just thinking,” my cheeks burned as I looked up to meet his glittering eyes. 
“About,” he questioned, laying our intertwined hands on his chest. 
“Just about this,” I gripped his hand a little tighter, “Why’d you ask me to dance?”
“Because I wanted to,” he said it so matter of factly that I decided to leave it, even though every bone in my body wanted to ask “why.” 
I nodded and chewed on the inside of my cheek, “Right.”
He let out a small chuckle, looking down at me with a tiny smirk on his chiseled face, “I asked you to dance because I think you’re interesting.”
I scrunched my nose up, giving him an incredulous look, “You think I’m interesting...?”
He nodded, moving his hand on my waist a little lower. “I do. You’re different.”
“Oh. Well, um, I think you’re interesting too, Mr. Shelby.”
“Call me Thomas,” his smirk only grew as he watched my cheeks blush. 
“Alright, Thomas. Call me (Y/N),” I gave him a weak smile, feeling myself grow more anxious under his gaze. 
“Alright, (Y/N),” he squeezed my hand ever so slightly before letting go of me entirely. “I need to get going.” He nodded towards his brothers who were loudly arguing with the bartender. 
I let out a laugh and nodded, “I think you’re right.” 
I took a step back and watched as he looked between myself and his brothers, “I enjoyed our dance. I’ll see you soon, (Y/N).”
And with that, he paced quickly to his brothers, grabbing them by the shoulders to get their attention. He shot me a quick smirk as he dragged them to the exit. 
Did that really just happen? Did I really just slow dance with Thomas Shelby?
It had been about 2 weeks since I had slow danced with Thomas at the club. Since then, I’d only seen him in passing around the office. We’d made eye contact a few times, and I’d caught him staring at me from across the room a handful of times. I was trying my best not to read too much into anything, especially since we hadn’t spoken since that night. However, my heart and hormones were totally in control in this situation and I couldn’t help but daydream about my beautiful boss.
I desperately wanted to speak to him, to be near him again. I hadn’t told anyone about what happened, not even Emmy. I didn’t want to get either of us in trouble, even if nothing really happened. I’m sure it’d be frowned upon for anything to happen between the two of us. He’s the CEO of the company and I work for him after all.
I was sitting in my car in the parking lot on my lunch break, scrolling through Instagram when I got a text from an unknown number.
When I opened the message, my heart nearly burst through my chest.
Unknown Number: (Y/N), it’s Thomas.
How did he get my phone number? Why was he texting me? Snap out of it and answer, girl!
Me: Hi, Thomas. How’d you get my phone number?
I waited for only a moment before my phone vibrates against my lap.
Thomas: Your application. I wanted to ask you for it, but I haven’t been able to speak to you lately. I just wanted to say I had a nice time the other night.
Me: Oh, I see. I had a nice time too. Thank you for the dance.
Thomas: I’m glad. I was wondering if you’d like to have dinner with me tomorrow night? I could pick you up around 7.
WHAT?! He wants to have dinner with me? Okay, focus, this could totally just be a work dinner.
Me: I’d love to, Thomas. Should I send my address, or did you sneak that from my application too?
I grinned as the three little bubbles appeared, disappeared, and reapppeard on my screen.
Thomas: You could send it to me so I feel less like a creep.
I let out a laugh, quickly typing my address out for him. A moment later, my phone vibrated with a notification.
Thomas: Great, I’ll see you tomorrow at 7 pm. Have a good day, (Y/N).
Me: You too, Thomas. See you tomorrow.
I quickly put my phone into my purse and made my way back into the sleek, modern building.
I can’t believe I’m going on a date with my boss. Is this a date? Do I want it to be a date?
I stood in front of my mirror, zipping up the blush colored dress I had bought specifically for tonight. My hair was curled into loose waves and my makeup was light and natural. I didn’t want to look like I was trying too hard, or like I thought this was anything more than a casual meeting. For all I know, he was going to tell me I was a terrible employee and fire me on the spot. I mean, it was highly unlikely but not impossible.
I checked my phone every few minutes, checking the time and for any texts from Thomas. So far, nothing. It was only 6:37, but I was pacing around my apartment like a crazed woman.
My phone vibrated with a text from Thomas, making my heart jump to my throat.
Thomas: On my way. I’m excited to see you.
Oh my God...breathe (Y/N)!!!
Me: Ditto!
Ditto? DITTO??? What am I even doing? He’s going to think I’m some weirdo.
I sat on my couch, huffing as I watched the three dots disappear from the screen. I closed my eyes and tried to take deep, relaxing breaths.
There is nothing for me to worry about. He’s my boss. I’m his employee. This is a business dinner. I need to calm down! He’s human just like I am.
A knock at my front door jolted me from my thoughts. I quickly stood, running my hands over my wrinkled dress before making my way to the door. I looked through the peep hole to see Thomas standing in a nice black suit. He looked as gorgeous as ever. I unlocked the door and swung it open to see him smiling at me.
“You look beautiful, (Y/N),” he gave me his arm to take. I quickly shut and locked the door behind me, taking his arm to walk back down the hall.
“Thank you. You look beautiful too,” I bit the inside of my cheek as he let out a small chuckle and a “thank you.”
“So, where are we going,” I questioned as we stepped into the elevator, watching as he pressed the button for the first floor.
“It’s a surprise,” he looked down at me, letting his eyes scan over my appearance. His gaze was so intense I turned my head back to the elevator doors, “Good thing I like surprises.”
AUTHORS NOTE: sorry for the wait yall!! Please let me know what you think and if there should be/you want another part!! I love reading your comments! ❤️
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meetmeatthecoda · 3 years
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Lately, I've found myself drawn to stories ( and I mean drawn to as in envisioning those stories in my head, thinking them through to the very last detail, not reading, let alone writing them down, because I've long since accepted that they will never turn out quite the same on the paper ) where Red is the one who'd been seriously hurt and, therefore, rendered unconscious for an indefinite amount of time and worried Liz is the one who doesn't leave his side, hoping and praying and pleading that he would wake up. Probably, something that has to do with how unfair it is that we've seen Red keep vigil by hurt!Lizzy's side – playing music for her, holding her hand, reading to her etc. – a number of times and yet, over the course of 8 seasons, never have ever been allowed the pleasure of seeing Liz do the same for him ( not even when he was shot – because she left to retrieve the Fulcrum and couldn't come back until the fight was over – or when he was poisoned – because she'd been waiting to be cleared to see him and he ran away the moment he wasn't actively dying, because that's Red for you all ), even though she loves and cares about him as much as he loves and cares about her.
I mean, just imagine the possibilities!
Liz pacing around the waiting area of Red's mobile hospital while he's in surgery, unable to think about anything else other than how he looked – battered and broken and barely alive – when they've found him and how his head rested in her lap ( she could almost convince herself that he was merely dozing, if he wasn't so deathly pale and still and there wasn't so much blood on his clothes and her clothes and her hands and the backseat of the car ) and his hand was limp in her death grip as they rushed him to his doctors and she whispered words of reassurance and encouragement to him even though she knew he couldn't hear her and how she had to fight the instinct to curl around her lover and snarl at anyone who would come close because she can't let him be hurt further as the medics took him away from her, exchanging observations and orders that didn't sound particularly reassuring. She's also acutely aware of the fact that Red is fighting for his life – there, just a few feet away from her – and, though he's the strongest man she's ever known, he may not win, and so she makes a promise to the empty air in front of her that she will kill him herself if he dares to give up on her and Agnes like that now, when they've just reached the good, right place in their relationship, just confesses their feelings to each other. At some point, Dembe most certainly pulls Liz in for a hug, letting her cry in his shoulder, doing his best to comfort her ( even though there's nothing that can bring her more comfort than Red's hug, when he – alive and whole – wraps his arms protectively around her and holds her close and lets her hide from the whole world in his arms, his chest, his shoulder and neck – wherever she prefers to burrow her face at the time – and the memory itself makes her cry harder, because there's a possibility that he will never hug her like that again ), even though he's just as worried and scared as she is, and Mr Kaplan helps Liz clean up, washing away Red's blood from her hands and producing seemingly out of the thin air fresh clothes for her to change into.
Red, of course, pulls through the surgery, beating all odds, and Liz's heart floods with relief at the good news before sinking when the doctor explains to her and Dembe and Mr Kaplan the extent of Red's injuries and that it's impossible to say when – or even if – he wakes up.
And so the waiting game begins. Liz doesn't leave Red's side, holding his hand, stroking his knuckles with her thumb and never letting go, constantly talking to him and reading to him and even asking Dembe to bring the record player and some records from the Bethesda apartment to play to him, hoping that it would elicit some kind of response from him. Yet, as they days go by, there's not a single, smallest sign that he's aware of anything that's going on around him, that he's still there somewhere and is trying to find his way back to her, to them – he doesn't stir, doesn't so much as flutter his eyelashes, and Liz grows more desperate with each passing day, even though the doctor assures her that Red's slowly but surely improving ( but she can't see it with her own eyes, and if she can't see it, she's less likely to believe it, the more time passes with him just lying there, undisturbed by the loud, chaotic world around him ).
And then there's Agnes... While Liz keeps vigil at Red's bedside, the babysitting duties are split equally between Aram and Samar, Charlene and Cooper, Ressler and Audrey and Dembe and Mr Kaplan. Yet more often than not whoever picks little Agnes up from school and / or her ballet classes brings her over to the safe-house where Liz and Red are. She doesn't seem to be as unnerved by Red's state as her mommy is, climbing on his bed each time she visits ( after giving her mommy the biggest hug, of course ) and leaning in close to him, examining his face thoughtfully before half-asking, half-stating "He's still tired, mommy?". And Liz usually replies with a hoarse "Yes, baby" because she doesn't trust herself not to get choked up if she tries to answer more eloquently. Agnes simply nods then, satisfied with the explanation why he hasn't woken up yet, and settles against Red's side – mindful of his injuries and the spider web of wires and tubes connecting him to all sorts of monitors and machines – and either naps ( especially, on ballet classes days ) or tells her mommy and Red ( she talks to him just like Liz does much too easily – promising him to show him the new moves she's learnt when he wakes up etc. – as if she's already done that before or seen anyone else do that... unbeknownst to Liz, she did both – when Liz herself was in a coma, Agnes both saw Red talk to her mommy and was encouraged by him to talk to her, too, because it may help her mommy sleep easier and maybe she'll get better sooner and finally wake up ) about her day or does her homework or draws ( more often than not, she draws either cards for Red to read when he wakes up or just things she wants him to see ). And when the time comes for her to leave, she always kisses Red on the cheek, wishing him "sweet dreams" and to get better soon, and then gives her mommy, who tries so very hard not to tear up but fails miserably, a hug and a kiss, too, and tells her frequently that she shouldn't cry because Red is just too tired, just like she – Liz – once was, and that he just needs to sleep a bit more.
And when the door behind Agnes closes and Liz is sure her daughter won't see / hear her, she breaks down hard, in big, ugly sobs, because her little girl shouldn't be acting so naturally in this kind of situation and because she wishes so hard that Red just woke up, because she can't do this, any of this, without him.
In the end, once his body has healed itself enough and he regained enough of his strength, Red, of course, does wake up. It's a slow process, and Liz thinks she might either faint or go mad from the overwhelming feelings that are swirling inside of her when Red moves for the first time in what seems to her like forever – squeezing her hand feather-lightly – and when he leans slightly, unconsciously into her touch when she strokes his cheek – out of habit, without even expecting any sort of reaction from him and being pleasantly surprised – and when he opens his eyes for the first time – it's a brief occurrence, with his eyes slipping shut tiredly again after just a few moments, and he's still pretty much out of it, apparently, not even noticing her presence by his side, but for Liz it's a major event – and when he finally, finally looks directly at her – alive and conscious and alert – and calls her "Lizzy". He's still weak and his voice sounds terrible and Liz knows she shouldn't let all of her pent-up feelings – the fear and despair and frustration and love and relief and exhaustion – out on him like that – he's just woken up, after all – but she can't hold back the tears nor the jumbled mess of "thank you"s and "I love you"s and " "I've missed you"s and "I'm so so happy you're back" and "I was so worried" and "Don't ever scare me like that again" that spills from her lips as she leans in to kiss him lightly and give him the gentlest of hugs...
(Since I'm not a ficwriter and, therefore, have no intentions of using this pile of ideas/images/feelings myself, I wouldn't mind at all if you or any other writer drew inspiration from this rambling of mine)
Ahhhhh 😭😭😭 Are you sure you're not a fic writer, anon?? Cause this reads like some quality hurt/comfort to me!! 🥲🥲 Honestly, this is a lovely scenario to imagine & it gives me a slightly bitter sense of satisfaction to think of Liz suffering through just a fraction of the time Red spent by her side while she was in her coma... especially if it's the catalyst for fEeLiNgS to emerge tee hee bc, you're RIGHT, we were woefully deprived of those situations in the show & I'll never not be sad about it tbh. More specifically, things I love the most about this in no particular order: Liz having to "fight the instinct to curl around her lover & snarl" *swoon*, Liz swearing she will kill him herself if he dies LMAO, Dembe hugging her for comfort & Mr. Kaplan helping her get cleaned up 🥺🥺🥺, Liz playing records for Red yasss, AGNES & everyone taking turns babysitting her while she misses her Daddy desperately but deals with the situation with a maturity & grace beyond her years in an effort to help her grieving Mommy through it cool cool mkay mkay, Liz only breaking down once Agnes leaves OWWW, anddddd Liz being a blubbering mess when Red finally wakes up & calls her "Lizzie" & they kiss *whispers* it's fine, i'm fine 🙃 IN CONCLUSION, I love this anon, thank you for sharing this lovely little AU with me!! 🥰 And much, much love to you, of course, my friend!! ❤️
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libsterslobsters · 4 years
Text
Bring It On Home..
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Summary: The battle against Thanos is over, and the Avengers are the winners. Those gone for the past five years have returned home, including Bucky. But what changes have taken place in the reader's life since she lost him, and can things go back to the way they were? Or do they have to find a new normal?
Pairings: Bucky Barnes x fem!enhanced! Reader
(Reader is able to see bits and pieces of the future, can understand all languages, and process information at an abnormal pace, as well as being a super soldier)
Warnings: mild angst, fluff, maybe a hint of smut (blink and you'll miss it) mentions of the events of Avengers: Endgame, strong language
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She knew it would happen before it did. Her damnable knack for seeing shards of the future let her know that Tony Stark would get the stones, and what’s more, sacrifice his life for both friends and people he had never met, but there were so many screams on the battlefield that day, when her agonized cry escaped her as she rammed her knee into the groin and her knife into the jugular of one of Thanos’s goons (the same one who nearly killed her five years ago, actually) no one heard.
She’ll carry that secret to her grave. Goodness knows Pepper doesn’t need the worry of wondering if it somehow could’ve been avoided (it couldn’t have), if she somehow could have saved him (it wasn’t possible). She briefly thinks about telling Steve once the dust settles, but then she catches sight of a familiar flash of silver, and what’s more, the man in black attached to it.
She’s not sure if he’s seen her before she takes off, running the fastest she ever has, but there’s no way he could miss the sound of her footfalls once she’s nearly on top of him, and he manages to catch her when she nearly topples over from stopping so abruptly in front of him. He looks the same as last time she saw him, her Bucky, but she’s sure she looks much different. Her mind rapidly runs through everything she could say to him, everything she should let him know, but what comes out is five simple words:
“You came back to me.”
He doesn’t get the chance to reply before heart-wrenching sobs echo from the woman in the Iron Man suit, who nearly keels over next to her dead husband. She’s not sure who reaches Pepper first, her, Steve, or Rhodey, but as Rhodes pulls her up to lean against him and Steve shields them from prying eyes, she’s the one to remove the helmet from Pepper’s head and dab at the tears.
She doesn’t see him again except for briefly passing in coridors for several days after that. Steve’s patching up holes in what’s left of their forces, explaining that they’ve been gone for five years, and here’s how they were brought back. Rhodey’s putting out publicity fires. Pepper doesn’t have the huge circle of friends she enjoyed in the days before she and Tony ran off together to start a family, and although they don’t know each other well, she stays with the grieving widow and along with Happy and Peter, entertains Morgan.
Since she hates to leave Pepper for more than an hour at a time, remembering her own grief years earlier, Steve has taken to dropping off fresh clothes for her every day and taking what needs to be washed home with him. That’s who she’s expecting when there’s a knock on the door of the room she’s been staying in for the past week and a half.
That is, until the door opens and her heart skips a beat. It’s him.
He offers her a smile, but it’s nervous.
“Hey. Steve said he was gonna stop by and drop these off for you, but I was in the neighborhood, so I thought-” Stopping short, he holds out the brown paper bag she assumes has the sweater she asked for and the workout wear.
There’s so many things she wants to say to him. So many things he needs to know. That she missed him so much she thought cutting out her heart would be less painful. That not a day has gone by when she hasn’t woken up, expecting to see a good morning text from “Barnes” as he’s still listed in her phone. That she hasn’t deleted any of the voicemails he sent her. That she’s kept moving forward because she had to, but it felt like she was hollow, just a shell of herself.
Instead, she ignores all logic and reserve, and goes with her gut instinct; wrapping one arm around his neck, grabbing a handful of hair to bring him down to her level, and kissing him the way she used to, like no time has passed and no changes have occurred. It’s only when a “thunk” from the bag hitting the floor reaches her ears that she realizes what she’s done or has a moment of doubt. But then, he’s pulled her closer, and she’s not the only one going for broke.
She manages to break away long enough to gasp out,
“Sorry. Is this-”
“This is okay. Yeah. This is good.”
That’s all she needs to hear before dragging him into the room with her and kicking the door closed.
___________________________________________________________________________________
This is stupid. It’s the thought at the forefront of Bucky’s mind. They dated for three years, and he even worked up the courage to ask her if she’d marry him before Thanos attacked. There’s absolutely no reason to be nervous over a simple dinner date. It’s stupid. But he is nervous. Sure, for him, it’s been a grand total of two weeks since the battle where he turned to dust, but for her, it’s been a long five years. Who knows what’s happened in that time?
All of those concerns are put on pause as he catches sigh of her stepping through the diner doors. At the time, when he changed into one of Steve’s nicer button downs, blazers, and a pair of slacks (he’s pretty sure all of his clothes are still in Wakanda… or possibly thrown out by now, since it is five years later), he felt stupid, but now… yeah, he’s still underdressed. Of course, that would be true if she turned up wearing a potato sack, because it’s her, and to his mind (which he can’t guarantee is objective, but dammit, he can’t be far off) she’s the most beautiful creature to ever walk the face of this earth.
He’s barely stood up from the booth (no nicer places were available since literally everyone is trying to catch up with long-missing loved ones, and besides, he’s fairly certain they don’t take Wakandan currency in New York) before she catches sight of him, and that smile that could rival the sun peeks out again as she makes her way over. Does he hug her? Does he shake her hand? What’s the protocol when you’re meeting up with the woman who may or may not still be your fiancee for the first time in five years for her, and a few weeks for you? Who you’re sure as hell, absolutely, head over heels in love with, but who knows if she still feels the same way?
He doesn’t get to do either because she pecks his cheek, and before he can recover, slides into her side of the booth.
“You clean up just as nice as I remember.” He needs to say something in response. Words. He knows plenty of them. It’s just the using them that’s the problem.
“You too.” Did part of his brain disappear in the dusting and not come back properly? Is that why he’s completely tongue tied around her?
The situation definitely doesn’t improve when a waitress comes over to take their order and, as they fold up their menus and hand them over, he gets a good look at her left hand. Oh.
“Hey-” He doesn’t realize he’s been just staring until she reaches across the table and lightly grasps his arm. “-you alright there, Buck? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Maybe he has. Maybe he’s hallucinating. Or maybe-
“You kept it on.” She looks confused for a moment, and then a flush rises to her cheeks.
“Of course I did.” Her eyes lower to study the table, and her hand drops away. “Of course.”
“For five years.” Why is he saying this? Can’t he just accept anything at face value?
“Yes, um-” She clears her throat nervously. “-it wasn’t on my finger the entire time. I had a scare around four months in where I thought I’d lost it, and after that, I wore it on a chain around my neck, but yes. I kept it on.”
He wants to tell her how amazing that is, how he’s floored that it meant that much to her, he meant that much to her. But again, she’s the one to speak before he can.
“You can have it back. That is, if you’d rather…” She stumbles over her words, then sighs. “If you’d rather it not mean what it used to mean anymore.” Wait- “I know it’s only been a little while for you, but it’s been five years for me. I’ve gotten older, and I’m rough around the edges in places I didn’t used to be. Plus, I’ve changed a lot, and you might not to be tied down to who I am now-
“Keep it.” Her mouth falls open at the interruption, but she quickly snaps it shut. “That is, if you still want it to mean what it used to mean.”
She frowns slightly.
“I do. You wouldn’t believe how much… it’s only… are you sure?” Of course he’s sure. “If you wanted to take some time to think about it, or if you didn’t want to try at all, I’d understand. No hard feelings.” She laughs sadly. “I mean, who knows? You may not even like me anymore.”
That’s what finally pushes him past embarassment, past any worry about making her uncomfortable. Damn being eloquent. He just needs to say it.
“I don’t need time. I’d already thought about it when I gave the ring to you in the first place.” This time, he’s the one reaching across the table, taking her hand in his. “Doll, I knew we were both gonna change eventually. That’s just what happens as time passes. And my mind’s still made up that I’m gonna love each person you change into. I just wish…” Should he say this? Now or never. “… I wish I’d been there so we could’ve changed together.” She doesn’t look convinced. Alright, time to make things a little ridiculous.
“Are you still the girl who uses the humane mouse traps, has terrible taste in music, and drinks tea because coffee gives her the jitters?”
“Yes and no.” That’s not the answer he was expecting, but at least she’s smiling now. “I still use the no-kill traps, my taste in music was never terrible, excuse you, but coffee doesn’t give me the jitters since the super serum.”
“The what?!”
“Oh, right. You missed that part.”
It’s a long explanation, during which he has to almost completely shut down so he won’t show how much it’s affecting him, hearing how close she came to death that day, but by the end he’s even more certain of his decision.
“Then it’s just as I thought. You may have changed here and there, but at the core, you’re the same girl I fell for in Romania. And I’m still sure I want to marry her.”
Before she can stop it, a tear runs down her cheek. As she wipes it away, she asks,
“Really?”
“Really.” He nods. “But hey, from the sound of it, you’re a bad-ass now. You sure you want to marry an old man?” It works, and she laughs.
“Well, every bad-ass needs a sidekick, and you’ve got the credentials.”
He’s not sure why he asks, because it doesn’t matter, he wouldn’t blame her if there was someone else, but he needs to know just to put it to rest in his own mind.
“What, there weren’t any other applicants?”
“Nope. I held the position open for you.” He’s never been more excited to start a job in his entire life.
___________________________________________________________________________________
“Did you know it was going to happen?” They’re in the back of one of Stark’s (or rather, Pepper’s) SUVs on the way home from Tony’s memorial service. The only major difference from the trip down is that Steve’s gone. He’s gone. Traveled back in time. She doesn’t know for certain, but she’s pretty sure he went back to live his life with Peggy. And now Bucky’s asking her if she had a vision, saw it coming.
“No.” That’s not entirely true. “I saw…” She sighs. “Something confusing, and I still don’t think it’s happened.”
He doesn’t say anything, but she knows he’s waiting for her to explain. Still, she takes a few moments to arrange her thoughts in a way that’ll make sense to someone on the outside. Finally, she thinks she has it figured out.
“I saw you sitting on Steve’s bed, and you were upset. I saw myself sit down next to you to try and comfort you. I didn’t know it would be because of this, but-” she starts to take his hand, but stops herself. What if he’s angry? “-I knew it would be sometime today, because of what we’re wearing.”
It’s quiet, deadly quiet, then-
“When?” It’s one word, but she knows what he means.
“Right after Bruce pushed the button.” Maybe she should’ve mentioned it, but she was hoping she was wrong, that Steve wasn’t going to die going back to return the stones to their proper timelines. Turns out she was indeed wrong. He’s not dead. In fact, he got a life.
“Okay.” She frowns. Surely that can’t be it.
“Okay?”
“Yeah.” He nods. “It’s not like we could’ve stopped him, and I can’t blame him, ‘cause if it were me, that’s what I’d do. But-” He sniffs hard, and that’s when she realizes she’s not the only one trying not to cry. “-I’m gonna miss the punk.”
This time, she gives into her instincts and entwines their fingers, metal against flesh.
“I know you will. I know.”
___________________________________________________________________________________
Even if they’ve lost their leaders, the world doesn’t stop spinning, and work doesn’t stop for the Avengers. Sooner or later, they have to regroup, take up the mantle of protecting Earth again. Bucky is surprised when not just Sam, but Rhodey as well asks him to be part of the team. Not just him, he mentally adds. No, they want her too.
“Is this gonna be an issue? You two working together?” She turns in his direction, an eyebrow raised in response to Rhodey’s question. He thinks he knows the answer.
“No. The plan already was to work together until one or the other of us drops.”
Sam cackles.
“Thought that thing on her finger looked familiar. Man, you couldn’t come up with a diamond? Not even a little one?” He catches her rolling her eyes, and fights back a laugh.
“How dangerous do you want her left hook to be, Sam?”
“Good point.”
It’s easily decided that he’ll be part of the main force, and she’ll be in the reserves. That means she’ll keep her job at an upstate community college, teaching English to adults, and he’ll… be doing a lot of paperwork.
What’s not so easily decided is when and how they’re going to make things official. His suggestion is they wait a year for the dust to settle and then do things the old fashioned way, white dress, church, and tux included. Hers is that they walk down to city hall and sign papers. In the end, it’s Pepper who makes the decision.
“Of course you’re having a real wedding. Don’t be silly. And you’ve already waited five years. Why would you want to wait one more?”
She makes polite protests on both their behalves that courthouse weddings are quick and easy, or if they waited a year, they could save up, sort more things out, but Pepper’s not having it, and in the end, they’ve set a date six months in the future, and the widowed Ms. Potts as elected herself the wedding planner. Bucky’s not at all sure about this (Pepper’s a multi-billionare after all, her tastes are probably a little on the extravagant side, and their idea of a “fancy” date has for the most part consisted of “not wearing sweats or pajamas and going somewhere that’s not the sofa in your appartment or mine” y’know, since they’re broke and have been in hiding), but then she pulls out the,
“Please. I need a project to concentrate on that doesn’t have anything to do with… you know. And, I’m paying.”
So of course, neither of them can say no. And really, if the options are wait a year or wait six months, he’ll take the shorter option any day.
He’s been staying in Steve’s apartment (knowing that he’s the one who killed Stark’s parents, he couldn’t bring himself to stay in Avengers H.Q.) since his best friend payed through the next month, but eventually, he has to figure out something else. He may be working for the good guys now, but the price on Brooklyn apartments has just gone through the roof since most people want their old places back, and it’s more than he makes.
He tries not to let on that he’s starting to get a little worried about things (is there anywhere even remotely nearby available at a price he can afford), but eventually it does come up that he’s apartment searching. She has an immediate, rational response:
“Then just move in with me.”
His poker face really must’ve gone to shit (at least around her), because she laughs and, catching a piece of popcorn on the edge of her tongue, asks,
“Come on, Buck. You’ve signed up for the rest of your life. Do you really think we’ll be sick of each other in five months?”
That’s not it, not by a long shot. It’s just that back in his day, moving in together without a trip to church and the exchange of both vows and rings was a way to guarantee whoever the unlucky girl was would be painted as a scarlet woman. It’s archaic, and logically he knows no one bats and eye now, but he still has to ask,
“You sure, Doll?”
She nods.
“Yeah, I have a couch that pulls out into a mattress. Or, if you promise to be a gentleman and keep your hands to yourself, you can have the empty side of my bed.” It’s a joke, and he knows it.
“Sorry. Can’t promise that.” His own smirk matches hers.
“Well, then, I guess I’ll just be charitable and offer it to you anyway.”
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