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#i wish i could effortlessly get good grades but its not happening
kidrunaway · 20 days
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how do I deal with stress from school
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blackroseguzzi · 1 year
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Girl Next Door Part 5
Summery: ‘I love you’ and ‘I’m sorry’. Something good happens before something bad.
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Sitting at your desk inside your small bedroom, you stared at your old MacBook. The college essay prompt was written in bold letters on the top of your document.
‘Discuss an event that sparked a period of personal grown and a new understanding of yourself and others.’ 
Before today you had been stumped, having complete writers block when it came to this important paper. You felt a tear roll down your cheek as your fingers started typing feverishly over the keyboard. The words effortlessly coming out of you in your emotional state. After the events that had happen in the last few weeks, you knew just what you had to write about. 
Exactly two weeks ago you had been sitting in that same seat, staring at the snow falling from the sky out your bedroom window. You couldn’t find any motivation to write this paper. You were a small town girl living in the suburbs, with zero crime and white picket fences. You had good grades, a great family life, and you were not some leper in society. You fit in well with most, especially with your neighbor Kai, who you had been hooking up with for the last 7 months. 
It was hard to believe it had been that long since you shared your first intimate moment together. You guys didn’t talk much about your relationship status, hell you didn’t speak of it at all. You were best fucking friends, and both you and Kai didn’t want to discuss what your new level of friendship was doing to your old one. 
Your thoughts were pulled from you as your phone rang beside you.
It was Kai, so you decided to answer. “What’s up?”
“Can I come over? I just really need to get out of this house,” You could hear it in his voice that his parents were arguing. Winter was always at her girlfriends, and Vincent hadn’t been living there for years, so you knew it was just Kai home with the two of them as they were at each others throats.
“Yeah of course, I’m just finishing up my essay.” You lied. Kai thanked you before hanging up the phone. You frowned as you looked to your empty document on your computer screen. Sighing, you shut the laptop and got up from your seat at your desk. You sulked down the  stairs moments before Kai’s hand banged on your front door. 
He looked tired and worn out as you invited him inside. Your parents had taken a mini vacation for themselves for the 26th anniversary so you had the house to yourself all week. You hoped someday you’d still be in love with your husband 26 years in, just as your parents were. 
He rubbed the fallen snow out of his brown shaggy hair. “Hey, thanks for letting me come over. I hope I’m not interrupting anything?” You looked down at your appearance and suddenly felt a wash of embarrassment wash over you as you looked down at your yoga pants and Baggy sweatshirt with a guacamole stain from your afternoon snack lingering on the chest. 
“No god Kai, you know you’re always welcome over.. Especially when your parents get like that.” You smiled lightly at him, nodding at him to follow you up the stairs. 
You got to your bedroom door and entered the mess of your headquarters. Your room was a vibrant coral color, but the artwork on your walls were of dark comic book covers and thriller movies. The vast difference in the interior design of your room always gave kai a warm feeling in his heart. 
Kai plopped down on your unmade bed, his back falling back as he stared at the ceiling which was scattered with stick on glow in the dark stars from your childhood. 
“You know, sometimes I wish they would just fucking give up already.” Kai closed his eyes for a moment, fighting back the emotions pulling at him from the inside. “They’re just going through shit after your dads’ accident. It can’t be easy for either of them, or for you.” 
You took a sip from your iced coffee that had been sitting so long in your quest to break your writers block that the ice was already melted. 
“Its been years y/n, this isn’t going to get better. It's just gotten worse over the last year, and I feel like I can’t leave home. I can’t leave her with him.” He sat back up, his eyes were glassy. You knew he was talking about his mother. She was the brunt of all his father’s PTSD. 
You had overhead your mom talking with your dad about how Kai’s mother had been showing up with bruises on her arms lately and that she was worried about what was going on in the Anderson home. You knew that Kai’s dad was a dick, but you really didn’t know how bad until you had found out he was leaving marks on wife. 
Casting your eyes away from him, you fidgeted in your seat, “I’m sorry, I wish I could make things easier for you.”
“You do. Seriously you’re the only good thing in my life,” his words made your head shoot up and your eyes locked into his. He was smiling sheepishly, and you wondered how you had gotten so lucky as to have him.
“You don’t mean that,” Your voice came out as a quiet whisper. You felt your chest tighten at the words he had spoken to you. He had always been sweet but something in his words felt different today, like they were heavier than normal.
“Y/n, I know things with us are unusual and we’ve never really talked about what we are. I just want you to know that I love you. I love you as a friend and I love you as something more. I always will.”
It had been two days since Kai had confessed his love to you, and you froze and all you could do was kiss him in fear he was going to expect a reply. You didn’t want to complicate things more, and you really were starting to worry what was going to happen when you went off to college…if you went off to college. 
You had other things to worry about today of all days because even though two days ago Kai told you he loved you, it had been two weeks since your missed period. 
You stood in the bathroom of your home with a pregnancy test in a cup of your own piss. You paced the bathroom, biting your thumb nail and going through all the other options of why you could have missed your period. I mean there was stress, that was a big one. You had been under so much stress since applying for colleges, the essays lay dormant in your document drafts. 
“Im so fucking stupid,” You whispered to yourself as you leaned over the sink, staring at yourself in the mirror. Your hair was slung in a messy bun and the mascara smudged on your eyelids from the tears that fell from your eyes.
You pulled out your phone, realizing that it had been 10 minutes since you had stuck the test in your urine. It was clearly enough time to give an accurate result.
You slowly made it over to the back of the toilet, your eyes smashing shut as you picked up the stick. You prayed, prayed to a god you hardly believed in, but you told him that if he cared at all about you that he would let you off the hook just this once. Please dear god, don’t let me be-
PREGNANT
The words om the little electronic test were clear as day, and you dropped the stick with a shaky hand and covered your mouth. The tears escaping and cascading down your face. 
How did this happen? How would you explain any of this to Kai.
Kai. Oh my god, Kai. 
You were supposed to go over his house for a movie night tonight, but you couldn’t even fathom how you were supposed to break this news to him. 
You picked up the test off the ground, the words pregnant still permanently written on the clear blue test in your hand. You chucked it hard at the wall, the test clanging against the tile of your bathroom. ‘FUCK!,” You angrily yelled out. You stared at the stupid stick that lay flat on the floor. Your hands were sweaty and your throat felt like it did when you were 5 and found out you had an allergy to shellfish.
You grabbed your phone off the sink and pulled up Kai’s number, texting him a quick message that you were headed over. 
Entering the Anderson household you rushed right to the basement, walking by Winter and her parents at the kitchen table. They awkwardly looked between themselves at the odd actions of their neighbor. It wasn’t unusual that you walked into their house without knocking, but you usually said a quick hello. Tonight you were on a mission.
Kai sat on the couch, his laptop on his lap when you rushed down the stairs. Kai’s eyes grew wide as you walked down the stairs quickly, letting tears flow freely from your eyes,“woah woah, what’s the matter?”
 He shoved the laptop off of him and walked briskly to meet you in the middle of the room, grabbing you in a secure hug. He rubbed your back as you cried into his chest. 
“Are your parents okay, what’s happening?” He pulled your shoulders away from him, concern wrecked his face as he watched you shake your head. 
“My parents are drinking fucking mojitos on the beach right now,” You sniffled, gaining some composure and looking at Kai for the first time since you barged into the basement. 
He looked terrified, but you knew he would look even more terrified when you told him why you were upset in the first place. 
“Okay good, that’s a start. What’s going on then?” He questioned you, but all you could focus on was the sweet tenderness of his warm hands moving up and down your arms to comfort you. You wanted to soak every inch of him in before you ruined your relationship forever.
“I need to sit down, I need to sit,” Kai moved you slowly over to the couch and you plopped down on the old sofa that harbored so many memories. It was probably where you got yourself into this mess anyway. The thought made your skin grow goosebumps. 
“You’re freaking me out, y/n. What’s going on?” Kai’s eyes were wide, and he looked you over for a sign of an injury. Everything in you wanted to just cling to him and feel his body close to yours. If only you could close your eyes hard enough that when you opened them you’d be awake from this terrible nightmare. 
“I feel like I can’t breathe.” Nobody told you what an anxiety attack felt like, but you were pretty sure that you were experiencing one.
“Okay listen to me, whatever is going on I’ll help you, just talk to me.” 
You shook your head, feeling the heaviness overtaking your chest and you continued to cry. Kai ran his hands through his hair before pulling you to his chest and gently shh-ing you until he felt your body let go of the tenseness.
Moments passed until you felt strong enough to leave the comfort of his hold on you. Kai’s eyes searched you more for answers, and you couldn’t stop repeating yourself. “I’m sorry Kai, Im so sorry.”
“Woah chill, y/n. What is fucking happening here?” He was drained of color seeing you this way, and you just had to rip the band aid off.
“I’m pregnant, Kai.” 
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yostresswritinggirl · 3 years
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Modern Scenarios with Genshin Boys
Brainrot time - be glad, today was supposed to be angst but I had a change of heart.
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"Hey, pick on someone your own size!" The first time you met Childe was when you were being bullied by some annoying bullies that had nothing to do but want to pick a fight. It was something you can handle really, and you were about to disperse the commotion when this big guy suddenly appeared as if you were his knight in shining armor. "It's the duty of the strong to protect the weak!" Did he just-?! THE AUDACITY!
Spurred on by your annoyance and your want to prove your strength, you joined the Karate club in your school where you heard he is part of. And in under a month you reached the second tier of the yellow belt. But you needed to become stronger, to reach that guy's black belt status so you can spar with him. He was too high to be directly involved with your training after all.
Finally when the fateful day comes, he looks at you with admiration at the other side of the mat, your determination and fast rank up had him enamored. But you had different plans. When the spar session started, you maneuvered around his kicks and finally did what you've always wanted to do— you wiped your dirty, uncovered foot against his face in a kick. Somehow he fell in love more.
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You've been his lover for a while now, and restaurant dates are nothing uncommon in your relationship. And you know his habit of leaving behind his wallet even if he offered that tonight's date would be taken care of. After your lovely dinner session, lo and behold, he DID forget his wallet. But as the considerate lover, you took the liberty to bring your wallet with you even if he said you shouldn't-
Only to realize you brought the wrong wallet, only counting spare change for chicken nuggets. As compensation, you two spent the rest of the night forced to pay off your late bill by doing the restaurant dishes. It was not at all part of your itinerary, but as you start singing to alleviate the boredom and with Zhongli singing along, you had the most fun dancing around the kitchen with soapy arms and loose aprons.
You didn't even know that Zhongli could sing and dance that well! Plates were cleaned faster than any of you expected, and after the IOU contract that you're for sure fixing the next day, the two of your walk home hand in hand with the brightest smile you two had ever shared.
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Oh, god, more frogs. Welcome to Biology class! You are partnered to be laboratory buddies with the ever enigmatic, science genius Albedo. He was so epic during Chemistry class, and you were praising the gods for finally bringing this ray of hope to raise up your grades effortlessly. You would think this class would flow by ever so nicely as you finish the plant studies, that is until zoology started and the professor starts talking about dissecting kits.
Your first project was to bring a frog to school to prep up for dissection. Okay, very wack, you thought as you turned to Albedo to ask how you two would even get a frog for the project. Until you saw a curious glint in his beautiful, teal eyes. Next thing you know he was over your house and as you two go around the fields in casual wear.
The fact that stores exist for buying frogs SPECIFICALLY for Biology and dissections was something Albedo held back from you, opting to wish to experience the class firsthand and beyond. It was in all honesty to get to know you better, even if most of the time you tripped on your ass over the mud of the fields trying to chase or run away from a frog. In the end he finally suggested to just buy one, to which you were furious, thankful and elated that you at least got to know the genius more.
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Heavily inspired by Driver's License. You've just recently broken up with your boyfriend a day before you got your license to drive, something you were so proud of and excited to exercise together with your lover. But yet here you are crying your eyes out as you drove on the long and winding road of... somewhere. A deserted area with the next stop over or town miles and miles away, so when you happened upon a dejected voyager who clearly needs a lift, you offered him to be a hitchhiker. Xiao was thankful, really, but the ride was ever so awkward with the obvious puffy eyes and tear stains on your cheeks.
At one point, you remembered your ex once again and had to pull over before you end up killing the both of you through tear-stained vision. With sympathy, your hitchhiker offers to drive and a listening ear to your burdens, and it indeed lifted your spirits as he offers helpful advice on your pain. You part when you reached his home with a huge thank you for the lift, and you realized that you were just a town away from him.
The next time you saw him was an embarrassing moment you didn't expect to happen or come by so fast. Awkwardly standing by the roadside where your car was supposed to be, towed away because you didn't realize it was illegal to park there, an motorcyclist with a neon decorated bike suddenly pulled over in front of you. And when he takes off his helmet to offer you a ride, the smirk on Xiao's face doubles the embarrassment. You accepted the offer.
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You are a secret agent tasked to assassinate a target you've been following and gathering data on for weeks now, the perfect opportunity happens to be a gathering of high class people, a party or ball even. You thought it would be a quick and easy operation until you realized a man named Kaeya seem to be hovering around your target too closely for your taste and ease. It seems the guy has a body guard in hand. Now your focus was on swaying this bluenette, who was thankfully very, very receptive and welcoming to your advances.
When you finally FINALLY managed to let him off your case and successfully separated him from your target, you hurried over to finish the assassination as you realized you've been lingering for far too long— only to see Kaeya about to stab your target before your interruption. It seems that instead of his body guard, Kaeya was actually a hitman hired to kill your target too, and had been dancing around together with you because he thought YOU were the body guard.
"Woah, this your target too?" "Hell yeah." "Yoooooo!" How ironic, you two laughed the coincidence out nonchalantly as your target bleeds to death besides you both. After escaping your almost jail time when the true body guards came to check on their boss, which made a very awesome action sequence as you exchanged bullets next to Kaeya, you learned that your agency had recruited a new fellow under its ranks. You didn't need a name and face to know who the sly bastard was.
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You're not really the type of person to be into parties, not since high-school, and still no in college. Things were already a pain to deal with as the midterm examinations rolling in, but your roommate somehow managed to drag you into a popular college organization's midyear party before unceremoniously dipping to drink with the org members. As you cradle your alibi cup in a corner, staring into the raucous party, you realized someone else who's solo is accompanying you in silent brooding.
The two of you awkwardly introduce yourselves to each other before realizing that you've already met once or twice in campus grounds. "I don't really wanna be here." "Me neither." "Wanna dip?" Your relief didn't even need words to confirm your wants as you two slipped away from the mess, growing in intensity that you wouldn't even be suprised if the local authorities were to be called later on.
A little food date in the local 24/7 fast food restaurant nearby and exchange of numbers made your night a little bit better. So when you two found each other in another party you were dragged in again, your hand was held warm and tight within his as you two snickered, skipping out of the venue to have your own little party.
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Hello there, welcome to the start of the fluffy days. Figured you're all sad and broken enough to finally enjoy some good ol' flutters.
@sk1nnyangelic @kookieyachi @bunniesrorange @anormalguyreader @scarletroseneko @albaedhoe @xiaophilia @heisenwurst @moaa @dandelion-dreams @witchsungie @lehra @zelos-simp @legionqueensav @snackgod @rxsalinee @cala-ran @wind-wheel @lilydewi22 @yellowflowre @traveler-lumine @nonniechan @creation-magician @hanniejji @gojos-baby @just-some-stars @volleybloop
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mechanicalinertia · 2 years
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STMPD Recommends Bubblegum Crisis Fanfiction: NGTM-R's Night Life
"Because when your leader has had her brain altered by outside forces, eventually someone must ask the awkward question: What exactly did it do to her?"
Night Life is incomplete; Night Life came into the world of BGC a decade or two too late; Night Life could be read as cop-aganda if you're feeling frisky; Night Life is more about an OC than it is the Sabers at least in its first half. Night Life is a masterpiece.
Let me clarify: Night Life is a masterpiece because, in its initial snippets, and then in longer, more roomier chapters, it makes us feel for the AD Police who aren't Leon and Daley. Which is... a tricky prospect. The ADP exist to die and make the Sabers look cool in the original series, essentially the Gotham PD but in Megatokyo. Leon's cool but he's also kind of a goofball (he has the voice of Ataru Moroboshi, seriously), less Cobra and more Beverly Hills Cop.
And then real-life context sinks in. America lived through Ferguson, and it lived through George Floyd. Nothing's changed, of course. Public perception of whether or not the police are meant to help us have polarized. Legally, the cops have no duty to protect civilians.
I say this mostly to brush it aside, because Night Life makes us give a shit about the AD Police. The perspective we follow is that of one of the first K-Suit operators, a man who is very, very good at his job - but that doesn't make a lick of difference. People keep dying, K-suit operators who do the best they can but can't stand against military-grade Boomers the way the Sabers can. We see all this, the resigned frustration, the silent admiration of the Sabers, and it - it makes you see the ADP in a unique way. Here's a quote from Chapter 3:
"And of course they'd have a revolt. They'd always have a revolt. They were the AD Police. They served a very important role, critical to public safety, and they were forced to do it very badly by those in charge. Always halfway between a group never meant to win and the knowledge that they were an elite, between total collapse and the highest morale."
Damn. That's good shit.
The plot progresses, though. A massive fire started by natural-gas storage engulfs the city. Our boy, K-11-2 (no name, not yet, just the way he thinks of himself for now), manages to save Linna, of all people. He retires after they bring in shittier suits, the kind he's been begging the department not to use. Kate Madigan offers him a job, he politely declines, GENOM spins it as the ADP losing an officer in a bad way. He joins a USSD strike team. Does a good job. Things get more and more interesting.
Linna, though... Linna's getting bitter. Three years on and this strike team is outperforming the Sabers. There are so many good lines in the fic, especially from Linna. Here's one:
"We're losing, aren't we? They're close to having rebuilt all the towers. Quincy apparently wasn't killed. And those things weren't even our work."
Yes, the dialogue is simple, but what it conveys is this sense of hope and despair at the same time. It's pragmatic. Nastily so. Linna pops the question to Priss: If Sylia's brain is hardwired to get rid of GENOM, what happens if she's not the one who wins? If the USSD has made destroying the megacorporation a possibility, what happens after Quincy gets pitched out a window? The fic ends on that. And that's a hell of an ending.
So... yeah. I'm dubious that the USSD could be an unalloyed good, here, not in bed with GENOM themselves, but if you let that slide you've got one of the greatest BGC fics out there. One that pivots effortlessly from an ADP story to a new kind of story, a real character-driven adventure that asks hard questions about the dynamic between the Sabers and the rest of the world, and gives Linna, ever-neglected Linna, so much beautiful room to breathe.
I just wish it had continued, you know? What a pity.
I guess the real question is what's my next anti-rec...
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fan-girling-101 · 4 years
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Switched
Request by Anonymous: Hello can I please request a imagine where the ready has a twin sister and they decided to switch and see how long it takes everyone to notice. The reader is also dating JJ!! Thank you!!
JJ Maybank X Reader
Summary: Request^
Warnings: Swearing, underage drinking, slight rape just a little bit sorta
Word count: 2880
The twin Sadie, her nickname by Rafe is Die I hope someone gets the reference. Also thank you so so so much for my first request I was so happy. Please continue sending them in. And I’m very slow at updating so sorry in advance if I take a long time to respond. 
Part two
Not edited sorry for mistakes 
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When me and my twin sister Sadie where younger we’d switch places all the time. I was amusing being someone else for the short time we’d do it. As we got older it stopped happening as much until the last time we did it was grade 6. The two of us have lived on the rich side of the Outerbanks our whole life The rich people were never my scene though, so I made friends with the pogues. I was closest to JJ out of everyone in the group and slowly I found myself falling for the blond headed idiot. And somehow that’s how I ended up here, two months into dating JJ but scheming with my sister.
“Come on Sadie just for a little bit.” I pleaded with her, between the two of us Sadie was always the level headed and calm sister. It was my idea in the first place to switch places back in kindergarten.
“I am NOT kissing JJ.” Was the main argument to why she didn’t want to do it.
“I don’t want you to kiss him. He’s my boyfriend, it’s not like I’m going to kiss Rafe the lo-” I got cut off with a hand over my mouth. The love of your life was the ending to that sentence. Sadie doesn’t like talking about it but she’s in love with Rafe Cameron.
“If we do this you need ground rules.” She states looking around my room for the notebook we would write the rules in everytime. She finds the dark read notebook on the bottom of my bookshelf and grabs a random pen from my desk. “1. No kissing anyone. I won’t kiss JJ and you don’t kiss you know who.” she says gesturing with her hand.
“I’m never going to kiss Voldemort.” I joke as she starts in her effortlessly perfect handwriting.
“Your so funny I might die of laughter.” Her bitch face on as she glares at me. “2. Don’t make and life altering decisions.” I nod along thinking of what else to add.
“4.” “What about 3 stupid.” “3 is a stupid number I don’t like it. 4. I pick what you wear and vice versa.” She starts writing it down writing three instead of four. “I think that’s it. There’s a bonfire tonight at John B’s tonight wanna start then?”
“Yea that’s good I’m supposed to go over to Sarah’s. And take a picture of it because if you do anything wrong I’m going to kill you and throw you in the marsh.”
“And remember no kissing ya know.”
Day one
Y/N’s Pov
Sadie dressed me in a white summer dress and I took her car over to the Camerons. When I park outside of the huge house I text Sarah to let me in. I pull down the sun visor and open the mirror looking at my appearance with the light make up and my Y/H/C slightly curled. 
“Your name is Sadie Y/L/N, your 16 and in love with Rafe Cameron.” I take a breath getting in the mindset of my twin. “I can totally do this.” I hop out the car making it to the first step when Sarah opens the door. “Hey.”
“Hi you know you don’t have to tell me you’re here. You just walk in.” She opens the door wider so I can slip through. I awkwardly laugh nodding my head unsure what to do. “Go up to my room I’ll get snacks.” 
I walk up the stairs trying to remember where her room is. I’ve only been here a few times before Midsummers so we could all get ready together. I look both ways before deciding on going right. I get to the door I think is Sarah’s opening it praying to God I was right. But God decided on taking a vacation, instead of the light purple walls I was hoping for I got grey ones instead. 
“Fuck!” I hear, the person in the room faces me calming down once he sees who opened the door. “God Die what the hell. Next time knock, and what are you even doing here.” 
“Umm.... I’m lost. I think my brain stopped working I thought this was Sarah’s room.” I say looking around the room my eyes landing on a white substance on the desk he stood up from. “What’s that.” I ask hoping it’s not what I think it is and Sadie’s crush is a druggie.
“Nothing, two four doors down.” I slowly nob. closing the door trying to forget what I ‘didn’t’ just see. “And Die you didn’t see anything ok.” I nod again opening the right door this time sitting waiting for Sarah.
Sadie’s POV
“Hey princess.” JJ greats me as I get out of Putt Putt Y/N’s car. His hand finds its way to my denim clad hip from the shorts Y/N put me in. I really just want to push his hand off me, this is my sister boyfriend for God sake. He leans down to press him lips to mine but i turn my head his lips landing on my cheek instead. 
“Hi.” I wave to the rest of them pulling away from JJ. I try to ignore the stare coming from the blond as I sit in one of the lawn chairs. The sun was going down as I got here Y/N telling me what time to leave and what to wear before heading out way earlier to the Camerons. 
“Late as always Y/N/N.” John B shakes his head sipping the beer in his hand. Never once has my sister been early for anything and it stresses me out so much I don’t know how she does it. 
“It’s called being fashionably late Booker. But you wouldn’t get that would you?” I laugh knowing that was something she would say to her best friends. JJ sits beside me still staring so I turn to face him giving him a smile, he relaxes a little bit wrapping an arm around my shoulders. My or Y/N’s phone rings in her backpack I grab it out seeing the text from ‘My Person’, it was what we agreed on for our contact names after we repeatedly binged Grey’s.
                                                   My person
Bro what do you and S talk about????
                                                                       The latest drama at school
Sooo....                                                                                                        What is the latest drama
                                                  God do we even go to the same school                                                                           Immanuel P. kissed Madison B.
Seriously!! 
In a few hours it hits midnight and I was freezing. The cropped AC/DC shirt and shorts doing nothing against the cold autumn air. The night of Autumn in the Outerbanks were always so cold for a place that’s supposed to be hot. The fire was helping but I wanted something more. I got up to check Putt Putt for one of Y/N’s hoodies but I was pulled back landing on JJ’s lap a small shriek leaving my lips. 
“Were you going Princess.” His arms tightly around my waist while my arms go around his neck. His eyes staring into mine with nothing but adoration. I was happy that Y/N had someone in her life that loved her, but the way he looked at me thinking I was my sister makes me want to tell them a little . But I have to admit this is so fun.
“I’m cold and just going to find a hoodie.” He still doesn’t let go, instead one hand moves off my waist to grab something beside him. In his hand is know a black hoodie that would be way too big for me but as he hands it to me I slip it over my head. “Thanks.”
“You ok, you seem, I don’t know... off.” 
“I’m fine.” I give him a reassuring smile but I can she he doesn’t buy it.
“Are you sure you know you can tell anything right.” His thumb starts rubbing circles on the exposed skin under my shirt. I am so taking a long bath when I get home. I like JJ, it’s not like I hate Pogues or anything it just weird though.
“I 100 percent fine J, if something was wrong I’d tell you, you know that”
“Yea I do.”
Day 2
Sadie’s POV
Nothing was happening with the pogues today so I got an off day, but then I had to go and say something I wish I didn’t. 
                                              🥰My Surfer Boy🥺
You doing anything                                                                                      Can I come over 
                                                    Sadie is dragging me to a kook party
Well then I’ll just have to score an invite
Now JJ wasn’t going to stop till he could come which wouldn’t be hard as Sarah was inviting John B.
Y/N POV 
We pick out each others clothes before going to the party at Topper’s. I go to find Sarah lookinaroundud for the blonde. But instead of finding that blond I see Sade and JJ, his arm wrapped around my sister making me jealous. 
“Hey Die.” A voice says right behind me making me jump not at all expecting Rafe. He chuckles at me reaction before handing me a drink.
“What’s in it.” I ask, Sadie doesn't normally drink so I don’t know if I should take a sip of the dark liquor. “Trust me.” Is all he says back. I take whiff smelling how strong it is. Me personally would never trust Rafe, but this is Sadie not Y/N. I take a cautious sip. The second I take a sip I almost gag at how strong it is. I could handle alcohol but that is to much. Rafe starts laughing so I grab the front of his shirt and pour the rest down his chest.
“Hey Hey.” he pushes me back but it’s to late his shirt now had a dark stain on the front. “Okay maybe I deserved that.” He shakes his head at mumbling something about changing his shirt. There was a tug on my arm and I was faced with myself, well my sister. JJ behind her laughing putting his hand up for me to high five. Which I did.
“What are you doing. I would never do that.” She scolds me in a whisper so JJ won’t hear. When we switched Sadie was very serious about staying discreet. 
“Well I can’t kiss him as you what do you want me to do?” I laugh as she scoffs walking away JJ following behind her still laughing.
Day 4
Sadie’s POV
Four days nobody really suspected anything, well other than JJ he keeps asking if I ok. And I’ve had to dodge every kiss he tried to give me, and when I tell you JJ loves kiss Y/N it’s an understatement. It was the night of a boneyard kegger hosted by the pogues. 
I was chatting with Kie about turtles when a very drunk Kelce came over. He slung his arm around my shoulder, his drink spilling out of his cup and onto Y/N’s favorite shirt. I never really liked Kelce he just made me uncomfortable. Any time I saw Rafe, Topper and him out I’d always say hi, bothe Rafe and Topper would respond with a hi while Kelce would look me up and down before saying anything.
“Hey babygirl. God you don’t know how many times I’ve dreamed of fucking you are you sister, to have the two of you under me screaming my name. Why don’t we make it reality.” He drops his mostly full cup silling it on the converse I was wearing. His hand going to my waist and his lips attaching to my neck.
“Get off me! Stop!” Suddenly he was ripped off me. JJ’s fist colliding with his face. Kie grabs my hand asking if I was okay. I nod hopping into the van. Soon enough John B, Pope and JJ came to the van, JJ sitting right beside me wrapping me in his arms hugging me as no one said anything. 
“I don’t know how many times I’m going to have to punch him in the face for him to stop.” JJ said as we park at John B’s. I grab my phone leaving the van before it’s fully stopped I ran inside Dialing my number. 
“Yo Sade how’s life on the cut.”
“Were you ever going to tell me about Kelce.” I ask angrly pacing around the small bathroom.
“About that.” She nervously laughs not continuing. “Maybe should've warned you Kelce is in love with us before you went to the party.”
In Love with us! Y/N he tried to have sex with me!.”
“I know.”
“I hate you sometimes.”
Day 5
Y/N’s POV
I was at a small party just some friends over and some games at Sarah’s. We were all sitting in the living room talking about all the drama at school which I knew nothing about. A hour in Rafe and some of his guys friends walked in. Just as Sarah was going to tell them to leave Carmella asked them to stay, while practically eye fucking the kook king himself. Instead of walking over to the girl begging for his attention he sat beside me on the couch. I put Sadie’s phone I was currently texting her on so she could keep up with everything down.
“Nice to see you here Die.” 
“Hi Rafey.” I replied back using the nickname I usually call him. He rolls his eye as Carmella sits basically on top of him and starts a conversation about some boring kook thing. I felt bad for Sadie if this is what she has to deal with. “Come on. We’re out of snacks.” I grab his hand pulling him with me to the kitchen.
“Why do I have to come.” He whines like a baby as we get into the hallway, but follows even when I let go of his hand.
“Because I need help getting snacks.” JJ please forgive me for what I’m about to do. I grab the front of his expensive polo shirt putting my lips to his. He starts to kiss back but I pull away grabbing Oreos and walking back to the living room. Soon Rafe walks in clearly shocked of what just happened in the kitchen. Rule one and two broken. Oops.
Sadie’s POV
After hours of sitting in the sun on the boat I’m practically dying. I mean sure living in Obx you get used to the heat but someone turn the heat down. JJ has been asking me nonstop questions about things which I find weird but I answer.
What star sign are you? Virgo
Who’s the president? Trump
How many states are there? 50
9x7? 63
Our favorite thing to do together? Surf
What does www mean? World wide web
What university are you going to? UNC
Dream job? Not sure
I was confused what was happening the Pogues all asked what JJ was doing but he just said nothing.
“Sadie.”
“Yea-shit.”
“HA I knew it.” JJ jumped up startling everyone. I sighed, everytime it was always me that messes up if people find out. 
“How did you find out. Was it that I knew was www meant?” I question texting Y/N to get to John B’s. As we pulled up to the dock Kie got out laughing that I should be an actress. 
“No it’s that you answered 9x7 so fast. Also next time dream job is opening a surf shop together.”
Y/N’s POV
When I show up I knock on the door fiddling with my fingers. The door opens with the blond headed, blue eyed boy kissing me. He wraps his arms tightly around my back like he hasn’t kissed my in forever. I giggled kissing his nose wrapping my arms around his neck.
“Took you long enough. Five days surfer boy, gotta do better next time.” I push past him into the Chateau. “Hey guys miss me.” They shake the heads at me calling us crazy.
“I just thought it was that time of the month or something.” JJ said wrapping his arms around my torso resting his head on my head. I hit the back of his head causing him to playfully bite my ear. “Don’t ever do that again I was worried you were mad at me.” He looks between me and Sadie and I turn to face him giving his a salute.
I sit beside Sadie whispering in her ear that I kissed Rafe earlier tonight. “WHAT!” She jumps up. “You broke rule one and two!!! I have to go fix what you messes up now!”
“I didn’t break rule four though.”
“I hate you!” She runs out of the house starting up her car and driving off to the Camerons.
Later that night I’m curled into JJ on the bed in the room he claimed as our. The shirt he was wearing now over my shoulders enclosing me in the smell and heat that is JJ Maybank. My head on his chest listening to the rhythmic heartbeat. In the five days without JJ this is one of the things I missed most. His smell was just intoxicating and his arms tightly around me felt safe.
“Oh JJ I may have kissed Rafe.”
______________________________________________________________
Part two
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oikirstein · 4 years
Text
𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 | 𝐤.𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐚
PAIRING: tsukishima x fem!reader
SYNOPSIS: You’re in your third year at Karasuno High, and have liked Tsukki for all of them, but after finally being in a relationship with him for the past six months, you realize his cold, careless demeanor, which you once fell in love with, was the same reason you were falling out.
CONTAINS: Angst (?)
WORD COUNT: 2,610
A/N: Anyway, this is my first time writing a char x reader one shot, so hopefully it isn't too dreadful to read. I wanted this one to be about Mr. Kei Tsukishima because the phrase “take it back” sounded angsty, and I have a burning hate towards him, so I thought it would be fitting.
Part two here.
Prompt from here.
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Six months.
That’s how long you’ve been in a relationship with Kei Tsukishima, but is that how long you’ve practically been in love with him? Of course not. You’ve liked the blonde boy since your first year orientation, when you noticed how much he soared over the other students. Obviously his height wasn’t the only thing you liked about him. You adored the way he cared about his best friend, Yamaguchi. You found it hilarious when he picked on the other first years (and occasionally the upperclassmen as well). You were in awe of how he almost glowed at the end of a long game. You grew to love his stone cold face, which he wore so effortlessly and so undeniably well. You were fond of the way he’d get annoyed of his short golden curls tickling his forehead. You were desperately in love with every little thing about him. Who would’ve thought that over these past six months, those things that you found so much comfort in, would’ve also become the exact reason you were in the position you’re in now?
You had the grades, you had the looks, but most importantly, you had the boy. What more could you ask for?
It was January when Tsukki had seemed to have forgotten to walk you home—which you thought was strange since he’s walked home with you everyday for the past year and a half—but you made the excuse nonetheless. 
Maybe he’s just running a bit late. Maybe practice was taking longer than expected. Maybe he just lost track of time. Maybe—
Excuse upon excuse was running through your head as you sat outside the gym waiting for him, like you did every day you were together. You always asked him why you couldn’t just wait for him inside so you weren’t vulnerable to the elements (and so you could watch him practice).
“You’d only be a distraction,” is what he always said before walking away and leaving you all alone beyond the gym doors.
A forced smile spread across your face as you shrugged your shoulders and turned on your heels to sit on the bench near the vending machines. You wondered why he was so distant with you—no—you longed for a real answer. Was he trying to hide something within those concrete walls? You knew Tsukki had secrets that he kept from you, hell he hardly ever talked about the things that weren’t secrets, but to say you were shocked when you found out the secret he was keeping was you, was an understatement. Because that day, that special winter day, was the day the sky decided cry.
Your legs moved before your brain could think, and suddenly you were running towards the gym’s entrance, seeking refuge from the rain. The sounds of sneakers squeaking against the laminated hardwood floors, the echoes of volleyballs ricocheting off of walls and hands, the murmurs of huffing and puffing coming from the athlete’s chests—they all came to a halt as they stared at the girl who just interrupted their practice.
“Can we help you?” their captain, Yamaguchi, said with a smile and both hands resting on his hips.
“Oh um sorry. I was waiting for Tsukki outside and it started raining so I kind of just ran in here without thinking,” you giggled to hide your nervousness, but your shaky tone was still apparent.
“Tsukki?” Yamaguchi questioned.
“Yeah...” you trailed off thinking of what to possibly say. Tsukki wouldn't be very happy if he found out that you actually came into the gym and showed yourself in front of his teammates, but then again it’s not like he ever got upset about anything, “it’s just that me and my boyfriend usually walk home together and he still hasn’t come out.”
If according to routine, Tsukki typically would’ve been done with practice about two hours ago. At this time, It would usually be just Yamaguchi left alone with the first years, as he liked to spend extra time working with them and their skills.
“B-boyfriend?” the green haired boy almost couldn’t contain his laughter in his reply.
“Yes...” you tried to laugh with him, but the awkward tension in the air kept getting thicker and thicker.
“I’m sorry,” he chuckled, “it’s just that Tsukki’s never told us he had a girlfriend, or even liked anyone before.”
Oh. So that’s why he wanted to keep you out of the gym.
“Say, how long have you two been dating now?”
“A little over six months.”
His expression went a complete 180. What was once the look of light, friendly banter, was now riddled with fear, shock and a jaw nearly touching the floor.
“Oh my god,” Yamaguchi looked as if an apology was on the tip of his tongue, but before he could get the chance, you opened your mouth.
“Uh well since Tsukishima obviously isn’t here, I’ll just walk home myself. Thanks for the help Yamaguchi,” you hurriedly replied, one foot already out the door.
Step after step, the time it took between your strides became shorter and shorter, as you broke into a run, making your way towards home. Why would he keep you a secret from them? Why is he always so cold? Why does he always push you away? Why does he always tease you with that same monotone voice? Why did he not love you? 
You stopped mid-step as you took in your surroundings. You knew exactly where you were. This was the intersection where you and Tsukki would part ways. You debated: left or right? My house or his? Where should I go? 
You took a minute to think about which direction to take, when suddenly your phone rang. Pins and needles ran through your skin and a chill went down your spine as you read the caller ID.
“Tsukki”
You stared at the phone in shock, eyes wide, mouth agape, and skin turning paler by the second. He never called you first, so why start now? Ah. That’s right. Yamaguchi probably told him what happened.
“Hello?” you practically almost whispered.
“You went inside the gym today?”
“Uhm yes?”
“Why do you sound like you’re not sure,” his words said one thing, but his tone said another. Like he was trapped trying to scream in a place where the volume was muffled.
“Yes,” you said, more stern this time. Today was the day you were going to get answers.
“Why?”
“Take a fucking guess, Tsukki.”
Silence.
“I was waiting for you. Outside the gym. For four fucking hours,” you all but yelled into the phone.
“You could’ve just stayed outside.”
“Are you blind, four-eyes? Did you forget your glasses or something? Its raining!”
“Y/n,” he didn’t say your name often, maybe that's why it always had you so weak in the knees, “where are you right now?”
“Why?”
“Well you sound upset and it seems noisy in the background,” maybe he actually did care about you?
“The intersection.”
“Theres thousands of intersections in Miyagi, Y/N, try being a little more specific,” there it was, the passive aggressiveness he was so good at using.
“I know that, dumbass,” annoyance dripping from your lips, you tried getting across to him that you were fed up with his attitude, “the one where we always split up.”
“K,” was the only thing he uttered before you heard the dial tone.
Could he be on his way here? Did he want to talk to you? Did he want to see you?
One ounce of you. All it took was one ounce, one sliver of hope, for you to be waiting out here in the rain, not entirely sure if Tsukki was going to show up or not. You made a deal with yourself: if he wasn't here in the next fifteen minutes, you were leaving, and the two of you would be over. Right then and there, you hadn't realized that one of those things would have been inevitable anyway.
Five. Ten. Fourteen.
You cautiously watched the clock on your phone as your anxiety grew more and more intense with every passing minute.
There it was. Fifteen.
Some part of you must have known he wasn’t coming, because when the clock struck exactly fifteen minutes, you did not hesitate to get up and take the right to finally go home.
As you turned the corner, you heard the faint tap, splash, tap, splash, tap, splash, coming from behind, growing louder and louder the closer it got. You thought it was just a dog, or maybe some sweet, innocent child playing in the rain. Then you heard the volume of a voice you never thought you'd hear.
“Y/N!” Tsukki cried while running towards you, “Wait!”
You did not stop. You did not wait. Your steps did not waiver the way your breath hitched at the sound of your name. You continued on as if nothing was said at all.
Though this plan of yours didn’t work as you had forgotten one important factor: Tsukishima was an athlete. You forgot how fast he could run if he really wanted to...but maybe you wanted him to run after you? This was all you wished for after all. For once you wanted him to understand how it felt to chase after someone with no requiting in sight.
You didn't stop walking until you felt a heavy hand on your shoulder and an audible exhale against the nape of your neck.
“Why are you running away from me? I know you heard me,” he said, his monotone tone of voice almost slipping...was he...pleading?
You hadn’t turned around yet when you spoke, “You have some nerve asking me that,” you all but spat.
“W-what?” Oh so now he was stuttering? Was this even the same Tsukishima you fell in love with all those months ago?
You turned around so fast, you could have sworn he winced when his arm was violently whipped to the side.
“Isn’t that all you’ve been doing for the past six months?” You raised your voice—something you’ve never done in front of him before—but little did you know that this day was going to be full of firsts for you two, “Just look at today. You forgot about me. You didn’t tell your team about me. You barely even talk to me.”
“Wait, that’s not true—”
“Is it not? Your best friend didn't even know that you had a girlfriend,” you cut him off.
“Well if you would just shut the fuck up and let me explain you would know why I did all of that!” 
What a terribly heartbreaking sight: to see two young lovers yelling at each other in the rain. Tsukishima grabbed your wrist and turned around, making an effort to start walking in the opposite direction.
“Just follow me,” he sighed, putting his headphones on and dragging you along behind him.
You were tired—exhausted really. It was draining to be the only one putting in effort to stay together. You genuinely believed that if you stopped initiating, the two of you would fall apart. That’s probably the reason why only a mere whisper could be heard from your lips.
“Do you even like me?”
With the sound of the rain’s relentless smacking of the puddles on the floor and the music coming from Tsukki’s headphones, he wasn’t entirely sure if he heard you correctly, or if you had really said anything at all. Still, although his pace never faltered, he still felt a pang in his heart from your supposed words.
You used your free hand to ever so lightly tug on the hem of his shirt, and that’s when he realized you truly did utter those broken hearted words. It was like he nearly came undone at your touch.
“What?” he said as he slowly lowered his headphones to rest on his shoulders.
“I know you heard what I said,” suddenly the sky wasn’t the only thing crying that day, but unlike the heavens above, your tears were warm, livid, and came slowly down your face—inaudible to the human ear.
“Y/N—”
“It’s a simple yes or no answer, Tsukishima,” you said this despite already knowing the answer. He was either going to tell the truth or lie.
“Yes.”
He lied.
It was true: you had the grades and you had the looks, but life could not grant you the boy.
“Let’s,” your voice almost broke at the thought, but you kept yourself together for just a little longer, “break up.”
Tsukki swore his heart stopped beating for a second. Surely you weren’t serious.
“W-what? Why?” His voice was shaky and panicky—two things you wouldn’t dare associate with him.
“You’re smart! Do you need me to spell it out for you?” You looked up at him, eyes glossy from oceans spilling out of your lash line, and the sound of defeat flowing out of your throat. “I’m so tired of this whole relationship being one sided! Do you want me to start coughing up rose petals for you until I can’t breathe? Because surely I’m getting there.”
“Do you seriously think I don’t like you? I wouldn’t be standing here if I didn't care for you,” he half-screamed. Tsukki was offended that you’d doubt him, but he was the one who gave you every reason to.
“For the first time in six months—six fucking months—you came for me. Where was this attitude yesterday? Or the week before? Or months ago? The fact of the matter is,” you took a deep breath as to not unravel right then and there, “your heart is the one thing that will never be mine.”
You turned away from him and whispered, “So let’s just end this here, before any of us—before I—get hurt,” and you walked away. It wasn’t until you were out of earshot when Tsukki’s heart wrenching three words slipped from his mouth.
“Take it back,” he held his hand out for you, watching as your petite frame got smaller and smaller with every stride.
When you disappeared from view, he slowly turned around and slumped in his step. He went back home and dropped to his knees when he opened the door to the reminder of your absent presence. 
Why had he left early?
He planned a special surprise for you at his house for your six month anniversary. A banner, chocolates, roses, teddy bears, and all of your favorite movies. It took him all of six months to build up the courage to do something as heart warming as this—but unfortunately, he was six months too late.
Why was he so cold?
He knew that’s why you caught feelings for him. You told him all about how you fell in love with his distant demeanor. How you thought it was cute when he cringed at people trying to make conversation with him. He never changed because he thought that's what you wanted. After all, that is the reason you liked him, wasn’t it? Maybe he was just too inexperienced to recognized what you truly wanted—no—what you truly needed.
You see, Tsukishima was the type to love in silence, the way you did all those years ago. He left you love letters in your shoe locker, the ones you assumed to be from random secret admirers. He’d leave practice thirty minutes early so you wouldn’t have to wait for him too long. He’d make sure to shut anyone up who dared speak a single negative thing about you, because he too, was in awe of every single aspect you had to give.
Neither of you could have predicted that that unassuming day six months ago was truly the beginning of the end.
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misssophiachase · 4 years
Text
Can’t Fight the Moonlight
For @klarolinefallbingo “Harvest Moon”
He’s her professor and she’s his student but can they resist each other on a university field trip unsupervised?
September 24 - University of Texas, Austin TX
“Is it wrong to want to inspect the professor more than the actual event?” 
“That’s not appropriate,” Caroline swatted away her best friend while attempting to keep her attention trained on his lecture. 
But it was incredibly hard to concentrate. 
Katherine was right. He was infinitely explorable given his crimson lips, sexy stubble and crisp accent that made her tingle in all the right places but she was madly trying to focus on the assignment at hand. 
Camping in rural Texas to see the harvest moon with her class was manageable. But sleeping so close to the hottie, astronomy professor in question was a whole other problem.
“Caroline?” She looked up distractedly into the gaze of their professor. She could only manage a robotic nod by way of response. “I was hoping you’d be our student representative for the excursion to Somerville next week?” 
His blue eyes were equally imposing and imploring and his gentle tone hypnotising. Caroline didn’t have much choice but to nod stupidly again. He sent her a brief smile with those extremely kissable-looking lips then effortlessly continued his lecture. Caroline could hear her friend chuckling by her side. 
“What’s appropriate again?”  
October 1 - Somerville, TX
“You’re no slacker in the tent department,” he whistled appreciatively. They had arrived a few hours earlier and she’d gotten straight to work as the student representative making sure their sleeping arrangements were in order. 
Until he decided to come over and distract her. Caroline felt her temperature rise just from being in such close proximity to her professor. 
She knew it was wrong. 
Very wrong. 
But it was difficult not to react when his heady scent, a mixture of sandalwood and vanilla, was so enticing not to mention that navy henley he wore like a second skin over a rather fitted pair of dark, denim jeans.    
Caroline closed her eyes momentarily, silently repeating the same mantra. 
“He’s your professor and it’s not appropriate to drool over him. Repeat.” 
“I, uh, meant that as a compliment,” he added, Caroline realising she hadn’t responded because she was too  busy trying to regain some semblance of composure. 
“Thank you, professor,” she managed to get out, but only just. 
“I assume this isn’t your first rodeo then?” Caroline felt a blush creep across her cheeks wishing he hadn’t made a riding reference when all she could think about was doing that very thing to him. 
Caroline was ashamed. It was as if Katherine had entered her mind and was walking around while subsequently making herself at home.  
“Caroline, are you okay?” He asked, his concerned look not lost on her. She really needed to calm down. 
“Yes, uh, fine,” she replied quickly. “No, I’ve been camping with my parents since I could walk. My father would be absolutely mortified with me if I couldn’t pitch a tent after all that practice.”
“And your mother?” He asked curiously. 
“She, uh, died seven years ago,” Caroline stumbled, not expecting him to ask such a personal question. He was her professor, after all. His expression changed, sympathy she was used to, although there was something else intermingled with it she couldn’t quite identify.  
“But I’m sure she’d be just as proud,” he smiled, making her stomach flip. “Given your vast, outdoor experience, I’m hoping you can teach me how to make a s’more this trip? My younger brother tells me there’s nothing better.”
“Your brother has good taste.”
“Well, don’t get too excited. Kol has taste but I think the jury is still out on how good it is,” he drawled. “My brother is a bit of a nomad. He’s been travelling the globe ever since he turned eighteen. You name any country and he’s probably already been there and made himself at home.”
“But yet you live here full-time and haven’t sampled our finest campfire cuisine yet?”
“Unlike my brother, whose work ethic is virtually non-existent, I tend to burn the candle at both ends.”
“Well, you know what they say,” Caroline teased. “All work and no play…” He held her gaze as the words tumbled from her mouth. It was not like her at all but her professor brought it out in her, or it was Katherine still playing with her mind? 
It was his turn not to respond, his blue eyes reflecting exactly how she felt. 
Needy.  
Intense. 
Imploring. 
“Are you saying I’m a dull boy?” She couldn’t miss the husky tone in his voice. 
“Well…”
“Professor Mikaelson, can you help me with my tent?” Hayley Marshall was batting her long eyelashes and brown, doe eyes in his direction. 
She’d forgotten they were standing in a campful of other people. Caroline knew he had a fan club but she hated that her nemesis was one of them. Hayley had flirted with her ex boyfriend for months before dating him straight after their break-up. 
“Uh, of course, Hayley,” he responded officially, finally tearing his eyes away from hers.  “I’ll be right there.”
Caroline should have been pleased given whatever just happened between them was against the rules but all she felt was a dull ache of disappointment. 
“So, all that eye sex was for naught I see,” Katherine offered, breaking Caroline from her professor-induced trance. 
“There was no eye sex and, even if there was, I don’t think rolling around in a tent with our entire class present is the best look.”
“I’m sure our sexy professor would see it a different way,” she insisted. “He was ready to devour you whole and I, for one, wouldn’t have cared as long as you finally got laid after that poor excuse for an ex-boyfriend.”
“Shhhh,” Caroline growled. “Talk about indiscreet, Kat, I think they heard you in Australia.”
“You know how much I hate learning so please give me something good to bring back from this trip,” Katherine pleaded. “Someone has to get laid if I can’t.”
8 hours later...
A hush had settled over the camp as they succumbed to sleep in the early hours of the morning. 
Caroline was wide awake. Her mind taking her back to his vivid description of the full moon closest to the autumnal equinox. Not that he needed words given the view. 
Katherine was MIA as she attempted to get some sleep but was failing miserably. Caroline figured it was due partially to the gorgeous, French exchange student and her hopes of hot professor-student sex. 
Caroline was so not going there. 
She had an impressive GPA and no one was going to meddle with her grades. Or her plans for the future. 
She took astronomy as an elective to compliment her medicine degree. Caroline had always been interested in space and the solar system so couldn’t resist.
Now, it seemed she couldn’t resist her professor either. 
She pushed off the covers impatiently, deciding that some fresh air might help settle her insomnia. She was dressed in her plaid, flannel pyjamas but figured no one was around to care. 
The first thing she noticed was the brilliant, harvest moon that they’d been studying earlier. It was something Caroline couldn’t deny given just how impressive it looked from this vantage point. 
She made her way towards the fire, the embers glowing in the distance. 
“And here I took you for stripes, not plaid.” She recognised his voice straight away and it unnerved her completely. “Couldn’t sleep?”
“You clearly shouldn’t judge a book by its cover,” she shot back, trying to ignore how good he looked in sweats and a black, Beatles t-shirt in the glow emanating from the fire. ”Much like I shouldn’t judge you for that Beatles shirt.”
“And what exactly is wrong with the Beatles?”
“They weren’t the Rolling Stones,” she offered, shrugging her shoulders. “But it’s okay if you want to hold onto that.”
“Here I was thinking that I needed to teach you about astronomy but clearly popular culture is lacking too.”
It was at that point that the playful banter ceased and they were just two people who shouldn’t be standing so close together.
“I should go to bed,” he insisted, his expression telling her anything but that. 
“Me too,” she agreed but her feet felt cemented to the ground.  They continued their stand off in the firelight, every fiber of their being saying they needed to part ways.   
“We can’t do this.” He bit out but it was barely a strangled whisper. 
“I know,” she murmured, glad that he held the same view about their untoward connection. “But I finish this subject in a month and then we won’t need to coexist in the same lecture hall anymore.”
“I could be persuaded,” he replied, eyeing her closely. “But, just so you know, I won’t be seen in the company of a Beatles hater. Although, there is something you could help me with.”
“Which is?”
“How about that s’more lesson?”
“Fine. As long as you don’t insult my Rolling Stones.”
She taught him how to make the perfect campfire snack that night. But after she finished his class they experimented much more than that. Their musical tastes never changed but their feelings and sexual appetite changed for the better.
Dr Forbes and Dr Mikaelson married five years later but the playlist was still a contentious issue. 
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Creep- FFVII Biggs X Reader Ch.6/?
Summary: you get on the bad side of one of Corneo’s men and now you have a target on your back
A/N: sorry it took so long! I hope to post a chapter at least once a week but we’ll see how if works out...
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The sound of a revving engine could be heard from behind, as well as a maniacal laughter. It grounded you back into the present reality; a reality where you weren't safe and neither was your team.
You hesitated, taking a deep breath before looking behind. This new threat didn’t look like any typical Shinra troop, for troops were stripped of their identities and forced to wear the same uniforms. But this man was different. He wasn’t wearing one of those ugly helmets or uniforms, and his bike wasn’t typical either. Instead, the man wore his hair in a long mullet with the front slicked back. His outfit still seemed military-grade but personalized. And to top it all off, he rode a vibrant red bike. He held his sword out in front of him, size comparable to cloud’s buster sword. Could be be another soldier?
You stared a second too long, for he met eyes with you and sent a wink. You turned back around and sped up. Please, not another weirdo.
"Who's that?" Jessie asked.
"A SOLDIER," Cloud answered her. You were correct, then.
You pulled out your gun, ready to take out the man's tires and send him flying off the back of his bike just like you did with some of the previous troops. As you turned, though, he sped past you.
"Well, hello!" The man greeted your group, a sickening inflection to his voice.
"Who's this?" Biggs asked.
"Too quick for the eye, you cross him, you die!" The man replied. Oh, he was definitely a weirdo. He turned his head to look back at Cloud, "Now, mind if I cut in?"
He waited just a moment for an answer, and upon not receiving one, answered the question himself.
"Splendid, I've been looking for a new dance partner!"
The man spun his bike backwards and with the swing of his sword sent some sort of long-range attack your way. Whatever projectiles his sword had just formed, they mimicked beams of light. They were surely from whatever materia he had equipped, but you couldn’t tell which one.
Cloud swerved them effortlessly. You and Wedge: not so much. You had slid past one at the last second, and you could feel the white-hot warmth pass so close to your face.
"Private party, huh? That's fine. I'll settle for a race then. Just one."
"You talking to me?" Cloud asked.
"I most certainly am," the man said, his smirk could be heard in his words.
"Then no."
"Ah, so terribly sorry! Your words fail to reach my ears, sluggish and slow as they are!"
Yes, the man was a threat, but it was hard to see him that way since he was so... peculiar. He knew his was around both a motorcycle and a sword, surely he had many fatal tricks up his sleeve, and yet you couldn't help but cringe at everything he had to say. He took a real interest in Cloud, you noticed, probably because he recognized him as another soldier. You hoped Cloud would hurry up and take him out.
"What's this guys deal?" Jessie asked.
"The lady's curiosity has been peaked!" He replied, "My name is Roche, but you can address me by the more accurate appellation: Speed Demon."
"Heard that, huh?"
Roche laughed, "My ears are attuned to the feminine voice!"
You looked over to Jessie, who shared the same expressions as you: shock, discomfort, a little disgust. So he was a creep, too. Great.
"Ewww," slipped out of your mouth before you could stop it. You hoped he didn't hear.
"Ugh, this guy is the worst!" Jessie seemed to agree with you.
Upon hearing that, Roche sent more light projectiles back towards your group, you dodged again, slightly smoother this time. Cloud dodged effortlessly just like before, and sent his own flying attack to the man.
"Yes, this is the contest I've been waiting for!"
Cloud caught up to him, readying the buster sword. Upon seeing this, Roche smiled and readied his own weapon. With one strike, cloud had become the catalyst of their sword fight. Sparks flew as their swords scraped against each other, the clinks of metal deafening.
Then Roche sped up again, creating distance between him and using his long-range light attacks. These ones were only focused on cloud; he couldn't dogde them. Instead, he held up the buster sword as a makeshift shield. The force of the attack made cloud's bike shake as the light splintered off of his blade.
Roche has completely forgotten about you, Wedge, and Biggs. His focus was on Cloud and Cloud alone. Maybe because he was a SOLDIER? You didn’t know for sure. But since he was busy, it meant that meant the three of you were safe from those long range attacks. 
Cloud sped up to meet Roche, sword ready to take him out. A maniacal laughter bubbled from Roche's chest as their swords met again. It must have been the thrill of danger or rush from speed that had him so giddy. Maybe he got off on it or something... But if he was fighting with cloud, he was gambling with his life. You hadn't known the mercenary that long, but he could handle a sword; that was abundantly clear.
You worried for Jessie, though, she was caught in the middle of it all. You hoped she hadn't gotten hurt. If she got hurt on Cloud's watch, you'd tear him a new one. But she was probably fine, she could handle her own. Besides, she had her own sub-machine gun. Wait, why wasn't she helping cloud using her gun?
Wait, why weren't YOU helping cloud and using your gun? Roche was distracted, you could easily speed up and take out his tires or something.
So that's what you did. As you sped towards them, you noticed Roche's demeanor. He was slouched, breathing heavily and holding onto his bike. Maybe cloud didn't need any help after all. You hand didn't let up on the throttle, though.
"You had enough?" Cloud asked.
"Don't be absurd," Roche looked up, flashing a nasty smile, "As if I could ever grow tired of your company." You were beside him now, aiming your gun at his front tire. Before you could shoot, though, he turned to look at you.
"I really hate to do this, but you’re being awfully naughty.” He said, same devious inflection as before.
And then, before you even had a chance to think, he had knocked you off your bike with his sword.
"Y/N!" Jessie yelled.
One second you were in control of the situation, in control of your bike, and the next, you were headed towards the wall. The first part of your body to make impact with the wall was your hip, nerves igniting like fire as the rest of you ungracefully met with the wall.
For a moment, you couldn't process anything. The white-hot pain in your hip and shock of the moment completely shut down your mind. But then you opened your eyes, and you saw the sky again. Those swirling blues, you wished you could look at it forever...
"Y/N!" A voice called, it was Biggs. Wedge had thrown a U-Turn as soon as he saw you get knocked off the bike.
Your awareness came back to your body, mind processing what had just happened. You were thrown off of a motorcycle, and now you lay on the ground. Your hip hurt like hell, and you were sure you had a few scrapes as well. You could feel them burning...
"Y/N!" Biggs jumped off the back of the bike and ran towards you, kneeling down by your side. He glanced up and down your body, looking for any sign of injury. And then he looked into your eyes, “Are you ok?”
The words met your ears, but you couldn’t seem to form a response. That was until you heard more bikes, coming in as backup for Roche. It tore you from your daze, and with your hands you pushed your torso up from the ground. Biggs looked towards the source of the sound, noticing how quickly it was getting louder.
“Im fine,” you said, panicked, “We gotta go!”
He jumped up, lifting you off the ground too, before checking to see if you could stand. Although your hip still hurt, it wasn’t enough to keep you from walking. Once he had established that you were actually ok, he grabbed your wrist and ran for you bike. It was a good couple yards from where you had landed. He lifted it up from the ground, cranking the throttle to see if it still worked. A sigh of relief escaped his lips when it revved to life. He took the front, and you hopped onto the back.
"Hold on," he said before taking off. And you did, you held on for your life. Your hands dug into the fabric of his shirt and your face pressed against his back, breathing in that familiar scent in a futile attempt to calm yourself down. It wasn't helping very much on its own, but the warmth of his body seemed to aid it in calming your breathing.
He sped across the tracks, trying to catch up with the others and avoid those troops. The rush that riding a motorbike once gave you had left, being replaced by dread and fear. How could you have possibly enjoyed this before?
But it was Biggs, he knew what he was doing, you reminded yourself. You trusted him.
Still, you didn't dare look back up.
Eventually you both reached your friends; Cloud had just beat Roche and then quickly took out the troops trailing you and Biggs. And that was the end of the danger, for now at least.
"Y/N, you ok?" Jessie asked, and you turned to look at her for a moment and nodded, which was a mistake, as you immediately got anxious noticing how fast you were going.
The rest of the ride was done so in silence. It didn't take long to get to Jessie's stop. You finally felt the bike slowing down, which you were grateful for, and eventually it came to a full stop. You unlatched from Biggs' back before anyone could see how tightly you held onto him.
He got off of the bike first, turning around to help you up before thoroughly checking for injuries. Jessie and Wedge approached you, too. The mercenary watched the scene from a few feet away, his arms crossed. Wedge kept some distance. Biggs and Jessie, however, didn't seem to take personal space into consideration. You understood they were worried, but you felt suffocated by their gazes and proximity.
"You didn't hit your head, did you?" He asked, taking your face in his hands and turning it to the sides to check for any injury. You swatted his hands away, hoping he didn't see your red face.
"No, Just my hip, but I think it'll be ok."
"Are you sure?" Jessie asked, placing her hand on the uninsured hip to see if it was the one. You stopped her before she touched your other hip.
"Well, I'm standing on it right now, so I think so," you couldn't help the attitude seeping into your tone. You were just in a traumatizing accident, heavily embarrassed because of it, and now being smothered by your friends. Not to mention everything that happened that morning and the day before. The past 48 hours have been hell...
"Watch the 'tude, missy," Jessie said to you, and you had to bite the inside of your cheeks and take a deep breath to keep from snapping. A chuckle escaped Biggs' chest, he must have seen your reaction. His laugh seemed to ease some of the forming tension.
"My mom's got stuff to patch you up," Jessie said, taking you arm into her hands as she looked at your scrapes, "But how are we gonna explain this to her?”
"I tripped?" You suggested.
"That'll work. She might pry, though, so you better get your story straight now."
After you assured them that you were fine and that you could walk, the five of you headed out into the sector 7 business quarters. You really hoped they hadn't noticed your slight limp... it couldn't be too noticeable. After the initial impact of your hip against the concrete wall, the pain died down to a manageable ache. And though you knew it wasn't all that serious, you knew there would be a big, purple bruise there tomorrow.
The business quarters were immaculately clean, with real roads and concrete instead of the dirt grounds of the slums. There was a car in every driveway; a luxury that no one under the plate had, for there weren't even streets to drive them on. The differences between the slums and topside were so astounding that you, biggs, Wedge, and even Cloud had to look around in amazement. Jessie was used to it, though.
Biggs stopped in his tracks to stand in front of a pro-Shinra sign, crossing his arms as he read the words; they were all lies. You stopped by it too, cringing at the propaganda.
"Disgusting," you said quietly, and he hummed in agreement. There was a moments pause as you both glanced closer at the sign, taking in the pictures and their irony. It was a moments pause made much longer because you were both painfully aware of it.
"So... how are you holding up?" He asked, turning back to you.
"What?" You looked up at him.
"Emotionally, I mean. How are you holding up?" You glanced at him for a second, taken aback by the question.
"Well, uhh... I just got thrown off of a motorbike. I have a gang after me. Could be better," you averted your gaze, looking to the street lamp instead, "It's been a hectic 48 hours..."
“Tell me about it.”
“It just feels like its never gonna end.”
"Look," he began, and you looked him in the eyes, "It's a lot right now, I know. But we're gonna get through it together, ok? This will all pass."
Your heartbeat quickened, his kindness was fueling that stupid little crush of yours.
"We better head back to Jessie," you said. So the both of you turned to walk away. Then he took your hand in his own and squeezed. How could he be this kind, this caring? And why was he so dead set on not letting you suffer alone? You had to ask. You took a deep breath. "Why are you putting up with this? With all the trouble I've caused us both recently?"
"Because I-," he stopped himself, and instead chose to rephrase whatever he was about to say, "Because that's what friends do... Let's go, can't keep Jessie waiting."
So the two of you walked towards Jessie's childhood home, hand in hand, like friends do. Just friends. But you wondered what he was about to say just a moment ago...
"Took you two long enough!" She said, hands on her hips. Wedge stood beside her, and Cloud was... leaning on the left side of the house? Was he not invited in? Knowing him, he probably didn’t want to go in, so you didn’t mention it.
As you two approached, Jessie turned around and walked up to the house. She stopped just steps away from the front door. Turning around, she made eye contact with you and Biggs.
"Just remember, my mom thinks me and you are dating," she said to Biggs, before looking back at you, "So none of that sexual tension stuff, ok?"
Your heart skipped a beat when she said that, and you took your hand out of his grasp. "What do you mean?"
"Don't act dumb," she rolled her eyes at you before knocking on the door.
You took a step away from Biggs, crossing your arms and looking in the other direction. His gaze hit the concrete below him, hand rubbing the back of his neck.
“But there’s nothing between us,” Biggs said. Causing Jessie and Wedge to laugh.
“Whatever you say,” Wedge replied.
The front door swung open, revealing Jessie's shocked mother. Her expression changed to a smile as soon as she laid eyes on her daughter. You felt sorry for Jessie, you really did. Because she had to live a double life, lying to her ever-supporting mother who was blissfully unaware of Shinra's sins.
"Jessie, what a surprise!" She said, looking from her daughter to the many other faces on the other side of the doorframe, "And you brought your friends! Here, come inside!"
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vanchlo · 4 years
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The Assistant / Chapter Thirty-Seven, “The Tables Have Turned”
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                                 SNEAKYYYYYY PEEEEEK
“At least I had my orientation with Harry to look forward to that coming Friday, but I still wouldn’t start at his firm for another week after that. The anticipation was killing me, and so were the little moments Harry and I shared when I happened to remember them. Sometimes I wish the alcohol had stolen those memories away, because they hurt too much to remember, but then at other times I’d never wish them away, because they give me something irreplaceable - hope.”
Music Inspo: Everywhere by Niall Horan (click to listen)
              “You think I like having you in here, destroying everything that was me until all that’s left is you and a dead shell? You're all I bloody think about ... dream about. You're in my gut ... my throat ... I'm drowning in you.” 
                        - Spike, Buffy the Vampire Slayer (S5 x E14)
“How’s yer dad doin’?” Harry asks me when I return to my seat across from him, the soda threatening to spill over the top of my cup.
“He’s doing good, thanks. It took a while for his energy to come back, and sometimes he gets tired easily, but it’s a process,” I answer, plucking a chip from the small white bag and drenching it in the yellow queso. “He’s pretty happy to have all of his hair back, and he’s started to get back into running and lifting weights. Late last summer he started back to work where he does construction.”
“Wow, I feel like I learn mo’ ‘bout yer dad e’ry time we talk ‘bout him. I didn’t know he was into weights and all that, good fer him. Bloody hell he’s like superman. Ya dunno how happy I am t’ hear he’s back on his feet, and doin’ well,” he murmurs with a gentle warmth adorning his features.
It spreads with a spark across my skin when I feel his fingers wrap around mine, squeezing my hand. I’m guilty again with an absence of words when I look back into his eyes, all syllables stolen away from me at the sight and by his gesture. I don’t need to say anything though because unspoken words pass between us as he stares back at me, memories unraveling from all of the times he showed up for me. I still don’t know how I could have ever doubted he cared about me.
“Thank you,” I reply emphatically, squeezing his toasty hand in return. His thumb brushes along the back of my hand before letting it go.
“Welcome, Becks. ‘m sorry I wasn’t there at tha end t’ celebrate,” he responds softly, sadness laced throughout his words as his head falls. His eyes avoid mine as he picks up a few pieces of shredded cheese that fell onto the wrapper laid in front of him.
“It’s okay, Harry, we both kinda forgot.” His head of curls goes up and down at my softly spoken words that only brush the surface. Regardless, I think that it did the job and he knows what I mean. We both know that we ignored the other and forgot, whether on accident or purpose. “I guess there are several reasons for our celebratory dinner and drinks.”
“Very true, bug,” he agrees, the dimples finding their way back onto his cheeks once again. The itchy nervousness abates when his eyes lift again to mine and he holds out his half-eaten taco, grease and warm sour cream dripping from it. “Cheers t’ yer dad’s recovery, catchin’ up with old friends, and tha best o’ all - Becks gettin’ tha associate position at me firm workin’ with me. ‘m excited t’ see what tha future holds for me new favourite lawyer.”
“Stop it, or else I’m going to start crying, and you’ve seen me cry more than enough,” I smile, blinking back the tears as I hold out my taco and bump it against his. “Cheers to new beginnings, Harry.”
“Cheers, Becks, and ‘s okay if ya cry. Happy tears are good too.”
“Very true,” I agree, taking a page from his book before I finish the rest of my taco, a silence falling over our table. It’s replaced with crinkling of wrappers, sips of soda, chewing of crunchy chips and chocolatey churros, and stolen glances at the other.
“How’re Skye and Robbie these days? What’re they up t’?” he inquires, squashing the wrapper of his third taco into a ball that he sets on the side of the tray for our trash. I watch as he plucks a quesadilla from the stack of dwindling food, but he stops and grabs a churro as well with a sly grin. “Hey, they’re fer me too.”
“Harry,” I warn teasingly, a giggle peeking out from my words which he quickly echos, although accidentally. “Um, they’re both good. Skye got a new job at a salon on the west side that she likes. It’s called Roots or something or other, and Robbie is still working at Black and Blue. He actually started dating a girl recently, but I’ve yet to meet her. God, it seems like everybody else is having luck with love, beside us. Myles told me he’s engaged now, and then Robbie’s girlfriend, and Skye said the other day she has a date this week.”
“Ya, we’re ratha pathetic, aren’t we? We haven’t even had any drinks yet and we’re gushin’ ‘bout bloody love,” he cracks, clucking his tongue before feeding the rest of the crisp churro between his rose lips. My oh my, is that a scenic sight right there.
“Yeah, you’re right about that,” I remark, finishing my second taco and grabbing the remaining quesadilla, earning a disapproving head shake from him.
As the flavors of the tangy sour cream, fiery seasoned chicken, and gooey cheese melt on my tongue, our words hit a sensitive spot in my heart. I just hope we can avoid it for the rest of the night, or else I’m afraid I might blurt out some words I’ve been itching to say.
+
“Hurry up, ‘s bloody cold,” Harry titters, digging his hands further into the pockets of his matte black coat.
“How far are we even going?”
“Oh, hush, you. ‘s not very far, jus’ anotha block,” he answers, his lengthy legs far ahead of mine.
“Harry, that’s what you said like five minutes ago, and slow the fuck down!”
“Hey, watch tha language, there’s no need t’ swear,” he remarks, meeting my eyes over his shoulder with his brows quirked into a V. When we arrive at a busy intersection, our feet stop on the sidewalk, and a muttered curse falls from his lips.
“Oh, so you can swear, but I can’t?” I quip, poking his arm playfully.
“Yes, li’l one, I can. ‘m not bein’ a very good role model fer ya, am I now?” he replies, a hand leaving his pocket to pat the top of my head covered in a knit hat. I respond with a roll of my eyes as his sly grin graces my eyes. “Are ya shrinkin’ on me, Becks?”
“Don’t.”
He only giggles, turning back to the onslaught of moving lights around us. I’ve always enjoyed the sights of London like this, the neon and fluorescent signs hugging every street, and the towering buildings. Harry mumbles a ‘c’mon’, tugging on my sleeve until I follow him across the crosswalk. Soon, we come upon a pub with a green neon sign donning the front, reading ‘Murphy’s’ that Harry pulls me into. His long legs lead me through the entryway, across red-tiled flooring, and to the long wooden bar where boisterous laughs sound.
“Can I have two Purple Haze martinis, please?” Harry says to the bartender, a tall fellow with an interesting red mustache that curls at its ends. He nods and turns around to grab two martini glasses.
“What are Purple Hazes, like is it something Prince liked to drink?” I ask Harry, falling onto the black bar stool beside him.
“I dunno, but you’ll like it. Jus’ trust me,” he smiles as he slides off his coat, and I admire the new view of his side profile. Something I haven’t seen in a long time. Seven months both does and doesn’t feel like forever, especially compared to that day I found him standing at the front of that lecture hall. Yesterday, when I turned around to find him standing in Myles’ office, it felt like it had been years. I blame it on all of the hurt. “‘Scuse me, can we also get two Skittles shots? Thanks.”
“So, now you’re my drinking mentor too, huh?”
“Pretty much, ya,” he smirks, balling his hand into a fist that he lays his cheek on to look at me. The smile winding its way along his lips under the dim lights drills a hole into the armor around my heart that’s cracking more and more. “And yer not doin’ that sissy thing ya do where ya have a glass o’ water on tha side.”
“Harry, I don’t want to be hungover tomorrow!”
“Becks, you’ll be fine! T’morrow’s a Saturday, anyways. What will it hurt?” he answers, shrugging his shoulders as the crinkles begin around his eyes. They almost disappear from my view when he looks to the bartender who sets the shots down in front of us, Harry mentioning adding it to his bill after thanking him. “Bottoms up, bug.”
“Oh, God,” I sigh, taking the greenish-yellow shotglass of liquid from his outstretched hand. “Stop looking at me that way.”
“What way?” he inquires with a furrowed brow, holding the shot close to his grinning lips.
“Like you know we’re about to get drunk.”
“Cheers,” is all he says, clinking his glass against mine before downing the liquid effortlessly. Shaking my head, I exhale loudly as the liquid nears my lips, and then it burns with hints of sweet and sour on the way down. “See, not so bad, was it?”
“Shut up,” I retort in the middle of a cough racking my chest, setting down the glass with a clunk.
“I have a question,” he announces after his giggling dissolves into the air. “Ya neva told me how you and Skye met, so how’d it happen?”
“You’re thinking about that right now?” I quip, carding a hand through my hair after I slip off my mauve-colored beanie. He shyly nods as he fidgets with a ring on his left hand, meeting my gaze only shortly. “We met in first grade. She was scary at first, because one day early on she got mad at me for stealing her friend, or something- I can’t remember. Then the next day, she came up to me and we were both wearing pink Hello Kitty shoes, and decided to be best friends. Like they say, the rest was history, and we were joined at the hip from then on. We were in the same class a lot throughout the following years, took the same electives in high school, and moved to London together to go to uni.”
“Sounds ratha picturesque, dontcha think? Or I s’pose that’s how it goes with five-year olds,” Harry murmurs, nodding to the bartender when he brings us the purple martinis. An awe leaves my lips when I see the ombre of purple hues filling the glass. “‘s vodka, Curacao, Black Raspberry Liqueur, and cranberry juice. I think you’ll like it. Go ‘head, try it, Becks.”
I obey and bring the chilly glass to my mouth, relaxing at the sweet taste of berries, filling me with the color purple. Then I wince at the harsh bite of the alcohol, eliciting a titter from Harry whose foot I kick with mine. Beside me, he gulps down a quarter of the drink, unfazed.
“How about you and Myles?”
“Good question, I dunno if ‘ve eva told ya that story,” he hums, tickling his stubbly chin with his fingers while thinking. Even the way the skin between his eyebrows disappears when he’s thinking is cute. God, everything about him is and I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep it to myself once all of this alcohol passes my lips. As another drink of the martini burns my throat, I think I may be warming up to that idea, but there’s the possibility it could all be for nothing if the alcohol steals our memories away.
“We met in high school inn’a class I can’t rememba tha name of, but we both hadd’a crush on tha same girl, and we both played guitar. So it was natural,” he mumbles, licking his lips and making me feel woozy all over at the sight.
“Sure, that’s a real natural friendship,” I giggle. “You know I’m a lightweight, by the way.”
“Oh I know, ‘m bettin’ onnit,” he returns with a wink, bringing the large glass to his bubblegum lips.
“You know what’s good?” I follow, watching his thick eyebrows hike up his forehead. “That Kinky stuff,” I respond, taking another sip. I almost choke on it when I glance at the shocked look screwing up his face.
“Becks.”
“No, God- t-the vodka, Harry . . . not that other stuff,” I chuckle, my entirety collapsing into nervous laughter. His own echoes mine as a prickly warmth spreads like fire across my body.
“My bloody God, Rebecca Holte, are ya already feelin’ that drink?” he hums, his bony knee knocking against mine underneath the table. The fiery nervousness abates briefly at the mention of my formal name, one I can’t recall the last time I’ve heard him say in its entirety. It comes as a shock to me, considering at times I’m convinced he’s forgotten it.  
“No, I-I just thought a liquor connoisseur such as yourself would know what I’m talking about.”
“Sure, I totally don’t believe you on that one, love,” he replies, scoffing when I softly hit his shoulder. “Yer prolly into handcuffs and gags, arentcha?”
“Harry Styles!” I exclaim, squirming when his hand covers my mouth. It falls within seconds, but the spicy vanilla smell coating his body remains with me, along with the warmth of his touch. Most of all, the familiarity and safety wrapped all in it causes a pang in my chest. “I do not do handcuffs, or bloody gags, and nor would I ever tell you, if I did.”
Words fleet his lips as he drowns them with another swallow of his violet martini. I turn away with my hair tickling my cheek as it shakes from side to side. It flies in front of my eyes when his fingers plunge into my sides, yanking laughs from my mouth as he lifts his eyebrows at me with a look that tells me to be quiet.
“I missed you,” I blurt out at random, feeling his fingers still on my side and his expression relaxes. The happiness falls from his eyes and cheeks, and with it I turn away, unable to deal with the disappointment I’m sure I’m on the verge of.
“I missed you too, y’know . . . loads,” Harry concurs, his fingers dangling at my side until they wander to my hands clasped in my lap. He steals one of them away and holds it against his leg, rubbing circles into my knuckles.
If this doesn’t make me spill the beans, then I’m positive the following liquor just may, and it all might come crashing down in front of me.
The next shot, a Lemon Drop, didn’t go down as smoothly. I felt like I was going to hack up a lung when I feel Harry’s warm hand on my back.
“Alright?” he murmurs in a rush, patting my back firmly until the cough subsides. “Sorry, that lemon one ‘s kinda hard sumtimes, ‘s ratha sour.”
“Ya think?” I respond, trying to make it go away with the last gulp of the Purple Haze, but it’s only a few seconds of relief.
I exhale and only feel his hand leave me when he orders a water, and two Tequila Sunrises, his a stronger one.
“Breathe, love, a water’s on ‘s way,” Harry hums, squeezing my arm. I nod and swallow hard, embarrassment coating me like a musty sheet.
“I thought you said no water.”
“Hush, I gotta take care o’ me li’l one,” he assures me, bringing a finger to his lips when I dare a look at him. A smile returns to my lips and remains there when the cold water graces them, him sipping at the Tequila Sunrise sat between his ringed fingers.
Oh, what I’d give to be able to wake up to a sunrise with him by my side. Oh, Harry.
“Hey, wha’s that ya got there?” he inquires, soon his painted nail lifting the bracelets from my right wrist. “Becks has a tattoo?! Since when?” he exclaims, astonishment and shock mixing into a cocktail amongst his features. His eyes bug out of his skull and then narrow when they return to my wrist.
“It’s a Queen Anne’s Lace, Robbie has one too, just on his upper arm and bigger. We got them when we were eighteen, um . . . . after our Gran passed. Grandma Holte . . Ann Holte,” I explain, helping him by removing the bracelets from around my wrist.
I’m not sure if it’s the alcohol or just him, but my wrist finds a new home in his palm that he turns to better look at. The shock is replaced by a slow smile transforming his face, bleeding into his eyes that find their way back to mine.
“‘s gorgeous, Becks, truly. ‘ve always found tattoos o’ flowers t’ be so beautiful, yer makin’ me want t’ get anotha one even mo’ now. I mean, I have tha rose and anotha sumwhere I think, but now I want anotha thanks t’ you,” he hums, tracing the ink with the tip of his thumb, just a whisper of his touch. “‘m sorry ‘bout yer Gran, sounded like it was premature which ‘s always tha worst. Knew ya were strong, but fook, ya amaze me e’ry day, Becks.” Unannounced tears press warmly at the back of my eyes as he admires the sprawling flower, tracing each little petal until he’s tracked them all.
“You didn’t think I was that badass, huh?”
“No, ‘ve always thought ya were a badass, babe. A flower tattoo jus’ takes the cake,” he quips, looking me in the eyes and sending another crack down the case in my chest.
I don’t know how many more little shocks like this I can take, or my heart, before it breaks free from the cage I locked it up in so long ago. I hid it there to protect it from him breaking it, again.
+
“This ‘s me,” he announces, bringing us to stop in the parking lot. My confusion only grows as I look around, until my eyes stop on the black Harley Davidson in front of us.
“What? It’s the middle of winter, Harry.”
“I know, I know. That’s what e’rybody says, but I dress warm. I like t’ take her out e’ry once in a while t’ keep her runnin’ good. Maybe ‘ll hafta take ya onn’a ride when ‘s not too cold fer pussy Becks,” he coos, voice rising to a mocking tone.
“I’m sorry I don’t like the cold wind ripping my skin off,” I titter and his eyes roll into the back of his head with a groan. I stand there awkwardly, eyes following him as he grabs the helmet from the locked bag towards the back seat.
“Ya sure yer good t’ drive, bug? I can give ya a ride if yer not too much o’ a puss puss,” Harry remarks, turning to face me as he holds the buckle strap to the side, a smirk claiming his face.
“Yeah I’m good, thanks. Those four waters and twenty trips to the bathroom helped,” I answer, although regretfully as everything inside of me screams at me to accept.
Girl, how dumb are you?
Quiet, demon, I can’t take it back now.
“Good, ‘m glad t’ hear that, love. I uh, reckon ‘ll see ya inn’a week then?” he replies, sliding the helmet over his dark curls, fingering the chin strap.
“Yeah, the eighteenth.”
“Don’t miss me too much now,” he jests from behind the lack of visor that he had pushed up and out of the way. Even with the bulky metallic gold helmet, he’s so goddamn sexy it’s unbelievable.
“As long as you don’t miss me too bad either.”
“Eh, ‘ll try not t’ but it’ll be hard,” he echoes jokingly, squishing his lips to the side with a thought and suddenly they collapse into a pout. Then, he winks at me as he settles onto his bike. “See ya inn’a week, Becks.”
“Bye, Harry. Have a good weekend, and careful driving.”
“You too, bug, drive safe. ‘ll talk t’ ya soon, gotta get tha recipe fer that Kinky Blue drink from ya,” he tells me, the bike rumbling to life when he twists the key in the ignition.
“Bye,” I exhale, taking one last look at him before I turn around. I put one foot in front of the other and walk away from him, my least favorite thing to do of all things on this planet.
From behind my steering wheel a few cars down, I watch in awe as he slides on gloves before toeing away the kickstand and pulling out of the lot, looking more handsome than ever.
Just when I think he can’t surprise me, he does just that, and in the best way possible. Every time.
+
“Care to explain where you’ve been all night, missy?”
“It’s not even eleven, Mom,” I respond with a firmness trying in my voice, but I can’t muster it as I slide off my boots. No, there’s not really any reason in the world that I could be upset right now, or feign anything other than utter happiness.
“I know, I can read a clock, Ree. Hey, what’s that big smile for? I never got to hear how your interview went yesterday.”
“Oh yeah,” I realize aloud, the words falling automatically as I hang up my coat in the closet by our front door. Boy, is that a lot to unpack and rehash, and yet I look forward to relaying it all to her. That way, I get to relive all of it a little bit, and I don’t mind if I do. “Well, you were out all night partying too, so you can’t be mad at me.”
“You got me there, I’m guilty. Or can I say that yet, Ms. Lawyer?” Skye responds, a lightness showing in her words. After closing the door to the closet, I find the anxious eagerness waiting in her eyes, bringing elation to the front of my mind as I nod.
“I got the job yesterday,” I barely am able to say before she crossed the room, surrounding me in a hug. “Harry called me when I got home from work and told me the good news!”
“Oh my god, Ree, that’s so amazing! I’m so happy for you, holy shit!” she exclaims, amazing me at her strength when she squeezes me with her noodle arms. “Was he happy to see you?!”
“Yeah, I think so, and fuck he looked so good, Skye. He hugged me the first second he saw me.”
“Aww, that’s so bloody cute. So, when do you start?”
Pulling away, I look her in the eyes and revel in the happy celebration coating me in waves again.
“Monday the twenty-eighth, but I have orientation with him next Friday.”
“Oooo, lucky you!” she smiles, and I swear my happiness about the whole thing has only doubled since she stopped being angry at me for applying.
“And I may or may not have just went out for those belated dinner and drinks with him tonight,” I reveal slowly yet eagerly, watching more shock paint her face and her jaw drops.
“Ree, you basically went out on a date with him, that’s my girl!”
“Skye, it wasn’t a date!” I protest feebly, because once again any of the negative emotions have no chance at outshining the wonderful positive ones right this second. “It was just to celebrate my new job, and to make up for the dinner we never had this summer, and the drinks he wanted to get for my birthday which also didn’t happen.”
“Wait, what?!” she almost explodes, nearly all of the emotions under the sun covering her face, if only for a few seconds at a time. “I thought you didn’t talk to him on your birthday?”
“Well yeah, I didn’t besides that one text,” I answer, and then I slowly see the realization shine in her eyes.
“You opened his presents?!” she shouts, coming to grab my arms as I giggle with a nod.
“Yeah, after I got home and right before he called. Talk about a lot of happy tears yesterday.”
“No wonder you weren’t answering my calls, and I don’t blame you, you were a busy girl. Busy with Harry,” Skye notes aloud, the same sunny emotions showing in her words, but they die down as she nears her finish. “I told you he still cared about you.”
“I know, you were right all along, and it kills me that I ever believed he didn’t. He got me a mini purple piano keyboard, a journal to write songs in, the first season of FRIENDS, and wrote me the sweetest birthday card. Then, he called right after to tell me I got the job, and fuck, it all seems like a dream sometimes. But then I called him at work today to set up the orientation, and he had the idea to get together tonight, and it’s all like a dream come true,” I tell her softly, and slowly it all doesn’t seem so fake anymore, but instead it feels just like the dream I’ve always wanted my life to become.
“Girl, you are so lucky,” Skye comments, dragging me by the hand over to the sofa where we fall with a thud, heads resting on the back cushion. “Did you kiss him tonight? Because God, Ree, you are both so in love with each other, I dunno how you haven’t kissed him already.”
“I don’t know,” I muse aloud, staring at the ceiling, but really all I can see is him smiling at me at the bar. His hand on my back when I was coughing, bringing my hand into his when we said we missed the other, and all of those feelings sitting in his eyes that I’m sure he could’ve seen in mine as well. “I think I’ll wait until I get settled at the job, because starting a new job is always the worst part and overwhelming enough as it is.”
“If you say so, Boops, but I figure that’s not too bad of an idea.”
“Yeah, guess why?” I counter, turning my head to face her, finding strands of purple hair sticking out of her messy bun. She looks back at me, confusion etched into the lines in her forehead. “He’s my mentor for the next few years and I’m his mentee, so I get to work with him every day and all day.”
“Ree, you should’ve led with that! Holy shit, why didn’t you?” she exclaims, swatting my arm in disbelief as I dissolve into a happy laugh. “That’s amazing! You get to work with him and under him, it sounds like a pretty good deal,” she chuckles, her laughing lips falling into a please smile.
“I know, I really can’t believe the last two days sometimes. I hit the jackpot, the Harry jackpot,” I giggle happily, relaxing against the sofa, trying to remember his spicy vanilla scent. If I try hard enough, I can smell it when his hand covered my mouth in a joke, and the warmth of his touch the few times our hands met. It wasn’t nearly enough times, though. “I have to work with Myles my entire second week though, because he’ll be in Scotland to try the case I’m helping him prep for my first week.”
“That’s shitty,” she grimaces, crossing her arms over her chest clad in a fuzzy blue bathrobe. “Just ask him out when he gets back then, it’d be too annoying starting to date while he’s away. If you didn’t, I’m pretty sure you’d die from missing him, Ree.”
“Fuck, I already might, I’m dreading it,” I sigh sadly, not even wanting to think about how pathetic I already feel not looking forward to that week.
“I know you are, but don’t. You have so much more to look forward to just in the next few weeks, and maybe you can sneak your second and third date in there, and a kiss perhaps.”
“Oh my God, Skye, shut up,” I retort, but it’s soon consumed by my laughter as she pulls me into her arms and her chin rests on my head.
“I’m so blooming happy for you, Ree. I’ve been waiting a long time for this.”
“So have I, Skye, so fucking long,” I recall aloud, trying not to let the melancholy find me as I lose myself thinking about how ungodly perfect he looked tonight. And how I get to see that handsome face five days a week for the near future; talk about lucky. Talk about a dreamboat finally lifting its sail.
+
The next few days seemed as if they took twice as long, and the mild headache I woke up to on Saturday morning didn’t help. Although relaxing, the day dragged on and soon it was Sunday, with another long week ahead of me. At least I had my orientation with Harry to look forward to that coming Friday, but I still wouldn’t start at his firm for another week after that. The anticipation was killing me, and so were the little moments Harry and I shared when I happened to remember them. Sometimes I wish the alcohol had stolen those memories away because they hurt too much to remember, but then at other times I’d never wish them away, because they give me something irreplaceable - hope.
One of the many things they don’t tell you about becoming an adult is how music makes everything all the more tolerable, and exciting. Air Hostess by Busted fills one of my ears as I pass the aisle for boxed pasta, pasta sauces, and the like. On an endcap, I grab a box of fettuccine that I toss into my cart. Lifting my eyes, my legs move again and come across a figure that walks right out in front of me. Our metal carts bang against the other’s as a warmth tickles my insides, and my lips.
“God, Styles, you’re an awful driver,” I remark with a tsk, removing the earbuds to stuff into my pocket.
“Oh, hey, Becks. ‘m sorry I didn’t see ya there,” he comments, turning his tired green eyes to mine. He messes with the gray knit beanie covering most of his messy locks, and it suddenly makes me hyper aware of my godawful just-fell-out-of-bed appearance.
“No duh you didn’t,” I snicker, kneading the plastic sheath on the cart’s push bar. “Wow, nice Sunday Best, I’m impressed,” I tease, running my eyes over the baggy gray sweats covering his legs and the cream Abbey Road crewneck on his torso.
“You as well, Ms. Power Rangers,” he quips, nodding his head at my outfit that compares very much to his with black cheetah sweats, a hoodie, and beanie. “Which one was yer favourite since there was neva a purple one when we were li’l?”
“I know, I felt so ripped off by that,” I sigh, following him as he takes off and turns into the next aisle. “But I always loved the red power ranger, I don’t really know why.”
“Hmmm, interestin’ seein’ how he was always tha one in charge. D’ya have a thing fer bossy men or sumthin’, Becks?”
“Oh, shut up,” I laugh, tapping his bum with the front of my cart, earning evil eyes from him over his shoulder. “Who was your favorite Power Ranger, then?” I say, turning the tables to him. He comes to a stop in front of me, straying from his empty cart to grab a few cans of corn and peas.
“Green, I think. Can’t really rememba why,” he shrugs, placing the cans in the cart, soon returning to another section of shelves to pluck a large can of crushed tomatoes from it. “Which season was yer fav’?”
“Time Force, for sure.”
“Oh c’mon, Dino Force was far betta,” he scoffs disbelievingly, giving me another dirty look as he sets down the large can in his cart, crossing off something on the piece of blue paper he holds.
“Maybe you should be friends with my brother, seeing how you like all of the same stuff. The green Power Ranger was his favourite, and so was Dino Force,” I laugh, comparing two different brands of green beans, deciding on the cheaper one that I grab. My legs pass his cart and when I see him shrug his shoulders with a sly grin, I softly swat him on the arm, his name leaving me.
“Becks, ya betta watch it,” he giggles, catching my arm in his gentle grasp.
“Or what?”
“Don’t test me,” he warns, but the grin creasing his cheeks tells me otherwise, he’s harmless. I bump my shoulder against his after he lets go, but not without a tickle from him.
“Harry Styles,” I groan, grabbing a can of tuna from the shelf. His grin is wider when I turn around, rolling my eyes at him on my way back to my cart.
“Rebecca Holte,” he whines in a mocking voice, once again shocking me with his recollection of my name.
“Don’t, it sounds weird when you say my name like that.”
“It really does tho’,” he remarks agreeingly, words falling into a hearty laugh. I almost echo it until I spot the look on his face. Following his eyes to the shelves, I find his stuck to a display of Spaghettios. Some have meatballs in them, hotdogs, the pasta are in different shapes, and some cans are bigger than others. I’m not sure which one he’s looking at, but the absence of anything on his face whisks that question away. “Alright?” I ask softly, taking a few steps towards him, and he wakes back up when my hand touches his arm.
“Y-Ya,” he hums sadly, letting my fingers come around his forearm, almost as if I’m about to hook arms with him. God, I wish. “‘s been a while since ‘ve seen these, and even longa since I ate ‘em. I always used t’ eat ‘em at me granddad’s house with a piece o’ buttered bread,” he explains, nodding towards the arrangement.
“Oh, Harry,” I exhale, sadness bending my features as I squeeze his arm. He musters a forced laugh, carrying his eyes over to mine with apology held in them. “It’s almost been a year, hasn’t it?”
“Ya, this week. I can’t believe it,” he remarks softly, kneading his bottom lip between his thumb and pointer finger of his free right hand. “Almost think I should grab a can fer him, but I dunno if ‘d like ‘em now. I don’t wanna ruin that memory.”
“It’s okay, you don’t have to buy it. You could buy or do something else to remember him, Harry.”
He nods beside me as I look up at him and watch the thoughts paint his face. It seems his face goes through every emotion within a minute - sadness, regret, confusion, frustration, grief, etc.
“Maybe get something you both like.”
“Ya, he loved those fudge-striped cookies, maybe I can find some o’ those instead,” he decides, tearing his eyes away from the lines of cans to meet mine. “Thanks . . Boops,” he smiles, that simple image calming the worrying of my heart.
I laugh and walk away from him, returning to my cart that I begin to push, but I find Harry’s in my way. With a playful groan, my lips part, “Come on, Harold, move it so we can go to the cookie aisle.”
“Hey, that’s not me name,” he responds, wrapping his bare fingers around the handle, giving me another glare over his shoulder.
“Well, neither is Rebecca, so don’t call me that.”
“But it ‘s actually yer name. Yer confusin’, y’know that?” he tuts, shaking his head as he looks straight ahead, moving down the aisle. “Hey, how’d ya eva come t’ be called ‘Boops’, anyways? I rememba Skye would call ya that sometimes when ‘d come ova.”
“God, I can’t believe you remember that nickname,” I groan, receiving a light chuckle from him ahead of me. On purpose, I bump the front of my cart against his bum again as he waits for somebody to pass.
“Becks- I mean, Rebecca, stop,” Harry says, turning halfway to meet my giggling eyes. One sits in his greens as well, but he only lets it show as a curling of one side of his mouth. “Ya I rememba, that’s all she called you. I think she did it on purpose.”
“Probably, knowing Skye she did it to bug me or embarrass me,” I comment, taking a right down the big aisle in between all of the smaller ones. Rows upon rows of cookies come before our eyes soon, along with baking supplies like flour, sugar, and chocolate chips. Dang, the amount of chocolate in this aisle is unreal, and somehow comforting. “My dad started it when I was a baby, or so I’ve been told. He’d tap my nose with his finger and it always made me laugh, I guess, so it stuck.”
“Aww, that’s adorable. Does he still boop yer nose when he calls ya that?”
“Sometimes,” I laugh, leaving my cart on the side as I pull out my phone, bringing up my shopping list. “So what are you all buying today?”
“That’s cute, y’know, and jus’ stockin’ up on some stuff. ‘m makin’ a pot pie t’night, so needed stuff fer that - carrots, an onion, celery, pie dough, broth, chicken, y’know,” he answers, bending down to squat so he can pull a pack of fudge stripes from the shelf. “Ah, here they are. I can’t rememba tha last time I had these eitha, but ‘m excited t’ try ‘em again, and think of Granddad when I have ‘em with a glass o’ milk.”
“Good idea,” I agree, patting him on the back as I tote a sack of flour in my other arm.
He finds me with his eyes over his shoulder, and those to-die-for dimples make an appearance again as his lips open with a smile, “Thanks, Boops,” he grins, tapping my nose with his finger. I want to tell him how original he’s being with that response, or the lack thereof, but the butterflies taking flight in my stomach consume all the bravery I had. “What’re you buyin’, hmm?”
“Same, just necessities.”
“Looks like yer bakin’ or sumthin’ with all that flour,” he comments, nodding to it as I set it down amongst the other items.
“Well, I’m going to make brownies, so yeah it’s a necessity, but that’s nothing new.”
“Ah, so Becks has become a baker, has she now?” he inquires, filling his arms with items up and down the aisle, because of course he is. I nod, joining him by a box of premade mixes, watching as he debates over which brownie mix to buy.
“I literally just said two seconds ago that I’m making homemade brownies, and you’re buying a box mix of them! Homemade is always better!” I exclaim, then groan with a disapproving shake of my head. “Harold.”
“Boops,” he returns, a smile winding its way up his cheeks covered in a light layer of dark facial hair. Now, that’s new, and what’s not to like? “I don’t mess with bakin’, so yes, ‘m buyin’ a box o’ premade. Unless ya’d like t’ make me some?” he suggests, wiggling his eyebrows at me with an idea forming inside of my head.
“Maybe if you stop calling me Boops and Rebecca, I will one time.”
“Noted,” he responds, winking at me as he replaces the box on the shelf.
“Good boy.”
He continues to smile at me, and quickly I remember what it’s like to stare into this sunlight, and how it’s not so bad sometimes. It’s quite wonderful, actually. The buzzing inside of my chest grows when his finger nears my face again, and then brushes under my eye.
“I like seein’ yer birthmark when ya don’t cover it up, ‘s pretty, Becks,” he hums, tracing his thumb over it, tickling my skin. A small ‘thanks’ drops from my lips at his words, and the buzzing only intensifies as he stares back at me. In that moment, I swear I could do it and I almost try to until he turns away. I attempt to find comfort in assuring myself that I don’t want our theoretical first kiss to be in the middle of the supermarket, lest anybody join us in this aisle. “I think that’s all I needed t’day.”
Thoughts are building into words on my tongue until the ringing of my phone interrupts my plans. This is definitely not all that I needed today, per say. Lifting it towards my face, I see my dad’s smiling face waiting for me, reminding me I haven’t spoken to him in days amidst everything going on. He’s already called a few times and I wasn’t able to answer, and he’s probably starting to grow concerned. I also really need to tell him about the new job. He’ll be so happy, and I can only imagine the suggestive things he’ll say about Harry. Oh boy.  
“I should take this,” I announce, bringing my eyes back to his. He nods as he arrives back in front of his cart. “It was nice to see you and only one of you,” I snicker, alluding to the far too many drinks we consumed the other night.
“You too, Becks, it was nice runnin’ into ya. ‘ll try not t’ crash carts with ya tha next time,” he returns with a warm smile, coming towards me as he pushes his cart. The next time? Can you please not tease me like this, Harry? I want all of the grocery shopping trips with you, even if they’re only like this where I can’t have my arm hooked through yours. Maybe one time we’ll only need one cart, just maybe. He lifts an arm and squeezes mine on his way down the aisle. “Take care, bug, ‘ll see ya Friday.”
“Bye, Harry. Careful driving that thing!” I call out, and this time he doesn’t give me a dirty look when he looks back at me. Instead, he sends me that blinding smile of his I love so damn much. “And, I’ll be thinking of you this week, I know it’ll be a hard one.”
“Thanks, bug, I appreciate it,” he returns, winking at me before turning back around and rounding the corner, just as I press Accept on my phone.
“Hi, Dad,” I say, waiting to hear my dad’s comforting voice.
“Hey, Boops. How’s my favourite girl?” he asks, the warmth in his voice providing me with happiness, and stealing it away at the same time. God, I miss him sometimes, I realize inside my thoughts. As I still stare down the aisle, I miss another man too.
It seems I’m always missing these two every second of every day, and one of Harry’s hugs that I wish I’d stolen a few seconds ago.
+
As the numbers climb in front of my eyes, the last few days flash before them. Somehow, I’m amazed when the number seventeen appears before my eyes in a bright red font. The last week has dragged on at times, thoughts of Harry and standing in this very lift occupying my every thought. Checking my watch, I’m glad to see I’m early, just like I had planned.
The gunmetal doors part in front of me and I’m rewarded with the sight of Seventeen in all of its glory. The buzzing returns in my chest, and so do the multitudes of butterflies in my gut as I look around. It does and doesn’t look the same as before, but it smells the same, and in some ways it sounds the same. The Cubiclers are gone and now more offices line the walls, and a certain somebody sits inside of one this very instant. The very same person I get to spend the entire day with, and it’s the first of oh so many. I take a long look around, admiring the gleaming tiled floors and the dark wooden walls, a new cream chandelier or two dotting the ceiling. God, that remodel must not have been cheap, I think silently, and soon wonder if a certain somebody’s father in construction had anything to do with it.
I almost expect to see him round one of the corners of the large floor dedicated to the firm, but I don’t, and I’m unsure of how I feel about it. It’s all washed away when I find the door I’ve been looking for, and it’s open.
“Hey, stranger,” I announce, leaning against the door frame with a cheeky grin plastered across my face. “Look at you with the fancy new office all to yourself.”
Their tousled head of sandy hair lifts from their computer screen, and I watch his eyes change almost entirely. My name falls from his lips as he stands up and crosses the room to me, enveloping me in a hug.
“What are you doing here? Does Harry know you’re here?”
“Yeah, he knows,” I smile against Asher’s shoulder, pulling away after a moment of being surrounded by his crisp cologne. “I work with him uh soon - I got the associate job, and he’s my mentor.”
Again, the look on his face changes in a blink, and astonishment paints him in stripes. A nervous laugh falls from his lips as he grips my shoulders and clucks his tongue in disbelief.
“You’re always good with the surprises, aren’t you?” Asher replies and I nod, waiting for him to say more. “Becky, t-this is what you want?”
“Yeah, it’s what I want. He’s already been so kind to me, and we’ve been talking a lot. He picked me over everybody else, Ash!” I respond, watching the words register with him as he nods the slightest. “I’m not going to let him get away this time.”
“As long as you’re happy, and he’s good to you,” he insists, pointing a stern finger at me dotted with shiny blonde hairs.
“Yes, he’s already being good to me, Ash. We went out for dinner and drinks that we meant to do this summer, and things are already looking up.”
“Good, good. That’s already progress, Becky,” he hums, and I mumble a brief agreement. “But still, what are you doing here now?”
“Oh, I have my orientation with him today, but I don’t start officially until the twenty-eighth, after I finish my job at the courts,” I reply, and he nods a little harder this time, biting on his thumb.
“I see, it’s all making some sense now, thank God. So, when are you going to ask him on a date?”
“Ash!” I exclaim, following him further into his plain looking office where he sits on the corner of his desk. He crosses his arms over the ochre button down showing a white t-shirt underneath. “It’s not even my first day of work yet!”
“So? You’re wasting precious time!” he argues, his loud chuckle soon stealing away his words. I groan as my eyes roll into the back of my head, soon pushing up the sleeve of my dark violet blazer to find my brown leather watch.
“Yeah, sitting here arguing with you,” I giggle, returning my eyes to his summer blues.
“No, you’re right, because you could be talking to him right now. You know, flirting with him and asking him on a date.”
“Ash, stop!” I laugh, turning to walk away, but I stop when I reach his door. “I like the new office by the way, I’m happy they finally made you head of I.T. I’m really happy for you,” I say softly pointing to the words on his door, hanging onto the handle as he meets my eyes softly.
“Thanks, Becky, I appreciate it. It was about time Bitchie Trishie retired anyways, fuck was she old.”
“Ditto,” I smile and he returns it right away. “I’m really happy to be back.”
“I’m happy you are too, and I’m sure Harry is as well. You should get going, you don’t want to make a bad uh, second impression,” he notes, shooing me away with his hand.
We say our goodbyes and I return to the hallway, straightening my unbuttoned blazer over my long slacks the same color for probably the twentieth time this morning. What feels like for the fiftieth time, I smooth down the chiffon black blouse tucked in underneath, hoping I ironed out every single wrinkle. Skye’s words from his morning when we said goodbye come back to me with a warm smile.
“Ree, if he doesn’t realize what he’s been missing the second he sees you in that outfit, I’m going to be very disappointed in him,” she mused, shaking her head with pursed lips and arms crossed over her chest as I laughed nervously.
My black pumps echo with every step I take on the immaculate floors, soon finding Amelia at the front desk who I wave at, not bothering to check in again. Asher’s comment and its ambiguity comes to mind as I take a right through the lobby. What did he mean that he’s sure Harry is happy I’m back, too? Since when do Asher and Harry talk, or when have they ever spoken to each other with more than three words? Does he know something that I don’t know?
I don’t get another second to think about it, because soon I turn down the hallway. His hallway. The nerves of anticipation and excitement come over me as a smile grows hastily on my lips. I’ve been waiting for this moment for longer than I think I know, probably months, or even years. It’s hard to believe that the last time I was in his office, it was two years ago. The thought appears with a sting when I remember the last time I was in his office, because of him walking in on Amber well, assaulting me. A moment that I ended when I walked away from him, and here I am walking back to him, and I couldn’t be happier.
Oh, how the tables have turned.
I see his door first, and how it’s ajar, letting a section of his office peek through. Then, I hear the Paul McCartney song escaping from his office, followed by his humming. The humming doesn’t match the song oddly enough, but it transports me back to the hospital in Madley when I was wrapped in his arms. It’s the same song he was humming then that I still can’t figure out. God, those kinds of things bug me.
I see him first, and I couldn’t be more grateful for that, because I get a few extra seconds to admire him. It allows me to remember the way he absently twirls a piece of hair around his finger when he’s lost in a thought, how he always crosses his legs at the ankles under his desk bobbing a foot to the music, and just how incredible he always manages to look in a suit. A pastel teal number hugs his trim body with a cream button up underneath, giving me a peek at his thick chest hair underneath. Oh, I could just eat him up. If only.
Swallowing, I take the time for a silent deep breath before rapping my knuckle against the cold glass of his door with nervous lips, “Good morning, boss.”
His head flies up and I think I’ve scared him almost, but the happiness that consumes his face is instantaneous and contagious as ever. It spreads across his flushed skin until my favorite little things about his smile appear before my eyes, making this all the more real. The perfect little curls falling over his forehead make it all the worse, and the better.
“Mornin’. Are ya ready t’ get started, Ms. Holte?”
“Yes, I’ve never been more ready,” I reply, the anxiousness abating as he stands from his chair.
“Great, then let’s get started with yer official orientation as a lawyer fer Styles and Lawson,” he announces, firmness playing in his words until they end with sunshine dancing across them, his footsteps finding their way to me. “Y’know, ‘ve been waitin’ a long time fer this day, Becks, too long.”
Me too, Harry. I’ve been waiting for what feels like forever for this new beginning.
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Avoidance
Summary: Emma is avoiding Mason for weeks. He is not going to let it rest.
Rating: K+ - Suitable for more mature childen, 9 years and older, with minor action violence without serious injury. May contain mild coarse language. Should not contain any adult themes.
Words: 3600
Notes: Excuse me saying, but my version is better than PB’s. I like Mason, but mostly because I want to like him, not because he is that likeable. The story has some potential, and the character does too. Hope y’all like it, too.
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Emma had loved Mason for a long, long time. She could not even remember how long it has been. Perhaps it was ever since she first met him at kindergarten, at the tender age of four, before she even knew how to read, much less what love was. Perhaps it was later, but the point is, she could hardly picture her life without him in it, and for the most part, she did not have to. He was always there.
She started to notice she was having feelings for him because, one day in middle school, she began stuttering with nerves when she talked to him, suddenly sit up straight when he was around, she smiled more when he was in the room.
Around that time, Mason would always sit beside her; he was always involved in her conversations. Sometimes she would notice him staring at her. He even gave her one of his sweaters to wear in the Winter. It was warm and soft and smelled like him.
“Looks better on you than me.” He said, gingerly, grinning at the way the sleeves would end long past the tips of her fingers and the bottom of the sweater would reach her mid-thigh.
Why does she like Mason, you might ask? At first glance, he had lots of desirable qualities, he was handsome and athletic, all the straight girls in their grade wanted him, and while Emma was not immune to those charms, that was not what elicited that kind of feeling on her.
She loved him because he was her friend, he was full of life, energetic, funny, kind. She knew him inside out and saw every little flaw, from the zit scar on his right cheek to his tendency to be entitled, but somehow it made she love him more.
For all of their time together, for every afternoon at their treehouse, for every sleepover in middle school, for every heart to heart under the bleachers, she never told him a thing, and so she was to assume he had no idea. She was afraid of the heartbreak, she thought it was going to tear her apart, so she kept to herself, waiting for a sign he felt the same.
He provided plenty what one might consider to be a sign, to be fair. There were times, fleeting moments, where she was convinced maybe he did, and maybe he felt the same way, but then he would amend his behaviour with a cop-out, an assurance of his platonic intentions. He was one of her best friends, and it seemed that is what it seemed to remain forever.
Filled with a sense of dread, Emma decided multiple times to cut her losses and move on, trying her very best to push her feelings down, but soon after he would shoot a smirk her way or run a hand through his messy hair, laugh lightly or even touch her in any shape or form and then her resolve would crumble.
The status quo continued, day after day, for years. They were still friends, all through high school, they remained as close as it could get. Neither would make a move, one way or another, and so nothing would really change.
That was before, though. A lot of things happened in such close proximity, tumbling on the days leading to Summer, she does not know where she stands anymore. Not with Mason, not in life as a whole.
Emma understood her father’s pain, but he whisked her and her sister to Wyoming, away from the support networks they trusted back at home and did not provide anything in return. They were reeling from the loss, still, and then those support networks they left behind just fell apart, for both of them. Life went on, and left the Price girls behind.
She supposes she could not blame anyone else for falling for Mason, though. It had been so easy for her, after all, she does not even remember how she did it, how it all began. She did not have to think about it, it just happened and one day she realized his smile could put she into a good mood, his laugh could make her whole week.
It did not go to say that it was easy and enjoyable watching someone else fall for him, however.
Suddenly, all the closeness between them stopped dead in its track. He stopped sitting beside her, stopped talking to her as much, stopped staring and stopped lending her his sweaters.
Because, suddenly, out of the blue, he fell for her.
Ava Lawrence.
It was not as if the cheerleader was a bad person, much the opposite. Emma and Ava were good friends, and she knew all the good qualities she had, how much of a catch she was, but it hurt.
It hurt.
It hurt like nothing she had experienced before.
She could not blame him. Ava Lawrence was beautiful. She was gorgeous, smart, funny, effortlessly cool. Everything she wished she were but afraid she would never be.
Everything she tried to be.
Emma was tired of trying. Or trying to be okay. Of trying to even be their friend at this point. It hurt too much to watch them together. The way Mason’s eyes lit up as he looked at Ava, the way he smiled at her. She had witnessed them kissing too many times than she wanted to admit, her heart aching as she wished it was her.
However, it was Ava he was sitting besides, it was her he was speaking to, it was her he was staring at and it was her who was wearing his sweaters. That first time she saw her other best friend with his number jacket, Emma could swear she felt all the air leave her lungs.
At the same time, even her grip on the friendship they used to share was slipping away. She would say hello to him in the hallways and receive nothing but a friendly nod before his attention was back on his girlfriend. She would try to speak to him at lunch, but his focus was on her. She would sit beside him in classes, but went unnoticed.
It felt like he was disappearing from her. She knew how that felt, how that slow crawl towards absolute silence felt, and it was horrible. She did not think she deserved to go through that again, in such little span of time. She wanted to hate Mason for it, and she tried it, but her heart refused.
With Mason, away it went her entire friend group. It seemed as if they picked his side in a fight she did not remember having. She started feeling like an intruder in their group, a poser, she was feeling so lonely in their company.
So, she stopped trying, she stopped reaching out for them. She pulled back from her old crowd, and started hanging out with herself. Until she came across another outsider.
*_*_*_*_*
To anyone from the outside looking in, Noah Harris was nothing but trouble, someone Emma, the perfect doctor’s daughter, had no business talking to. She was not proud to say that, if it was the year before, she would have thought the same, but she would be wrong.
Yes, Noah did go through a year-long stint in juvie, for something he refused to disclose, and yes, his brother did manage to get her and her sister detained by the police, but he was nothing but a sweet boy whom she did not know what she would do without.
They began talking when she helped him catch up in the subjects he lost while he was imprisoned. Emma came to find out Noah was actually very smart, clever and witty, as well as someone light to be around, unconcerned and not at all dramatic. He was mature, hardened, and she enjoyed his perspective in life.
The more time Mason spent with Ava, the more time she spent with Noah, and it did not take long before she was reminded of how smart her newly-found friend truly was. It took less than a week for Noah to realise she had feelings for his athletic rival.
She denied it when he first asked, but then he just had this expression, of pity, of longing, that looked so much like Mason’s puppy eyes, yet they were such different people. Noah was that much kinder, that much more sensitive, and it cut her in a different way, but cut her all the same. So much so, she could not help but spill her secret.
That she had loved Mason for years, now.
Telling Noah made her feel simultaneously better and worse. Better because now she had someone to confide in and to help her getting through it, but worse because admitting her feelings made them so much more real, and that was scary.
The weeks went by, and soon the Fall season was upon them, and with it, came the Homecoming Dance. All the girls were filled with anxiety and expectation to see if they would be invited by their crushes and boyfriends.
Emma hoped against hope Mason would come out and ask her, but, as it was expected, he had asked Ava to the dance. Noah, then, took pity on her and asked her to go as friends instead. She accepted, because she liked him and appreciated him for what he wanted to do, even if she would have to ignore the sight of Mason and Ava dancing all night.
Homecoming was nice. Noah came pick her up at her house on his mother’s car, much to the chagrin of her father and delight of her sister. They arrived and were the talk of the school, the former golden girl trashing with the delinquent. They danced and it was cool, they took silly pictures and sneaked out to the roof to stargaze. Mason won Prom King and Ava was his Prom Queen, but she had not seen or talked to either of them that night.
It did not suck as much as she thought it would. She could even say she had fun.
*_*_*_*_*
The Monday after the dance arrived, and her spirits were at a months-long high.
Emma was hopeful that the year would finish in more of a hopeful note, that her difficult times were behind her.
For the following days, she saw Mason less and less, even if compared to what it was earlier in the Fall, partly due to his steady relationship, but mostly due to her conscious decision to avoid him.
Noah had tried to discourage her from a clean break. His argument was that she should not trash such a long friendship for such petty reasons, even if he really hated the guy and could not understand why she fell in love with him in the first place. Eventually, he came to realise how much it was hurting her to see Mason and Ava together, and so he began helping her avoid him whenever possible, instead.
However, in her hearts of hearts, she did not think Mason would notice, so it would not be a problem of she decided to step back. It was a reasonable assumption; he did not appear to notice for the first six months she did it. She noticed his absence greatly, of course, but she did not think he would be focused on her enough to feel her absence.
That was her mindset, up until one day when she was leaving her Chemistry class, when she suddenly found herself pressed between a wall and someone’s chest.
Her heart was beating as she looked up at the culprit, staring into the deep blue eyes of Mason Jennings.
“Why have you been avoiding me, Em?”
His voice was low and he was staring down at she with such intensity that she had to look away.
“I am not…”
“Don’t lie to me.” He interrupted her. “You’re worrying me. Why have you been avoiding me?”
His warm breath was hitting her face and she could not help but shiver, though she was not entirely sure if it was because of the Winter cold creeping from an open window in the hall or the proximity to the boy she loved.
As if he had just realized how close he was to her, as his chest was pressed against hers and his hands resting either side of her head, he stepped back a bit, pushing his blond hair out of his face as he looked at she expectedly, although a hand was resting on her shoulder as if he half anticipated she was going to run away.
Which now she thought about it, it was not such a bad idea.
“I, um... I’ve been avoiding a lot of people, not just you. You must have noticed I am not having lunch with the cheer squad. I’m just going through something and…”
“You’re not avoiding Noah.” He said softly as his hand dropped from her shoulder. A flash of hurt crossed his features but he covered it up quickly. “You’ve been having lunch with Noah. In fact, whenever I ask about you, the answer usually is that you’re with Noah.”
“He’s been helping me.”
“Why couldn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you come to me? Why Noah?” His hurt tone made she wince.
The last thing she ever wanted to do was cause him any pain. They were very close, perhaps she should not have assumed she could simply disappear and not have any implications towards him, but what else could she do?
“You’ve been kind of busy with... with Ava recently. I didn’t want to bother you.” She pressed her lips into a straight line and looked down. Suddenly her shoes were very interesting.
“You could’ve still come to me. I would’ve made time for you. We’re friends. Best friends, the last time I checked! I thought you trusted me. Not Noah, out of all people.”
“I couldn’t... I can’t tell you.” She said helplessly.
“Why?”
“I just can’t!”
“Don’t you trust me?” He whispered, that same hurt look flashing through his eyes.
“I do trust you Mason I just can’t... I didn’t think it was a good idea to come to you with this certain problem I have. You wouldn’t be able to help because even I can’t help it.” She tried to explain.
He looked like he was still fighting the hurt he felt and she sighed.
“I’m head over heels in love with you and you are in love with Ava.” She said, quietly. “And I thought I could handle it but I can’t. I can’t because it hurts too much. I love you, Mason. And it’s crazy because I’m so young, but I know how I feel and that’s it. And I know you have Ava. And that’s fine, it is, but I couldn’t be around you for a while. I didn’t think you’d notice, I never thought I…”
Her voice fades in the echoes of the empty hallway.
“You love me?” He asked, his eyes slightly wider than usual.
“Yes.”
He was silent for a while and she could feel her heart beating faster and faster.
“Mason?” She whispered. “Please... say something.”
“I’m with Ava. You know that. I like her.” He scratched the back of his neck and stayed silent for a moment and she swallowed, nodding.
Her lips trembled and she fought to keep a tear from falling, “I know... I know, and I could never be her and I wouldn’t want to get in between you both so... That’s why I’ve been avoiding you.”
“I’m happy. I am happy.” He said determinedly. “I’m taken, I can’t…”
“I know, Mase.” She said softly. “I’m sorry. I never meant to tell you. I was trying to get over you. I just... I’m going to go.”
Mason watched helplessly as her figure retreated down the hallway and disappeared around a corner.
“I loved you, Emma.” He finally admitted to the empty space where she once stood. He shoved his hands in his pockets and kicked the floor, sighing before shaking his head. “I love you.”
*_*_*_*_*
“Emma, wait up!” Noah asked as he ran to fall in line with her, as she was leaving school alone, walking back to her house. “I need to talk to you.”
It had been about a week since her and Mason had their conversation in the hallway. She had been doing her best to steer clear of him, and he seemed to be doing the same.
It was for the best.
She turned and smiled softly, which came a little as a grimace, as it often did these days. “Sure, Noah. What’s up?”
“Not here, come on. It’s important!” He pulled her by the hand to a secluded corner of the student parking lot, behind a column.
“What is it?” She asked, confused.
“I got to tell you something.” He took a deep breath and did not let her hands go, even as his were shaking slightly. “Look, these few days we spent together were great. You’re a great girl, and I like spending time with you.”
“I like spending time with you, too, Noah.” She beamed at him. “You’re the coolest person I know.”
He smirked at her. “Good. Good. Well, Emma, I like you, and before you ask, yes, I like like you. I want to go out with you. If you have me.”
“Oh.” She breathed out. “Oh. Noah, I’m really sorry, but… My heart is filled out by someone else. I care about you, and I really want you to be happy, but I am not it.”
“I see.” He said, in an even voice. “It’s Mason, then? For real?”
“For real.” The girl echoed, filled with certainty. “I’m sorry.”
“That’s OK. I just wanted to have you know.” Noah smiled, ruefully. “By the way, how has it been with him?”
“I haven’t seen him in a few days. Since...” Her voice trailed off and Noah nodded.
“I’m assuming you’ve heard him and Ava broke up?”
She came to an abrupt stop and her head whipped over. “What?!”
He shot her a cheeky grin. “Mason broke up with her. Look!”
He nodded at the general direction of a few cars over, where Ava was standing extremely close in front of Chad, another football player, whose hand was on her waist, her giggling up at him.
Her jaw dropped. “But… What is that about?”
“You know, if I were you, I’d go find Mason. I think he might have something to say to you.” Noah winked, humoured. “He’s on the football pitch.”
She frowned. “How did you know? Did he put you up to it?”
Noah laughed. “Hell no. I am serious. I just needed to make sure you were certain about Mason, and to let you know that you had options, and to show you Ava’s new boy, too.”
“Noah, I am…”
“Go get him.” Noah cut she off with a gentle nudge towards the direction of the pitch.
With a nod, she made her way to the pitch as fast as she could, before she realized it began snowing and a cold wind was picking up. She pulled her coat further around her, pushing long strands of hair out of her face as she rushed over the grass, her eyes falling on a familiar figure.
“Mason, what are you doing?” She called out.
As she headed closer, she saw him look up at her and grin. “What do you think I’m doing? Football practice!”
“It’s freezing out here, and the season is over!” She exclaimed. He leant on his tackle dummy as he watched she walk over to him. “I heard you broke up with Ava. Or, well, Noah told me and I saw her with Chad.”
He nodded, his sweat-soaked hair sticking to his cheeks as she came to a stop in front of him.
“He did, eh? Did he tell you why I broke up with her?”
She shook her head.
“Because of this.”
Suddenly he crashed his lips to hers.
It was a desperate kiss, one that made her toes curl as he dropped his helmet to the ground to grip her hips. It was mostly a clashing of teeth to begin with and she hit his nose with her own a couple of times before she both began moving in sync, ignoring how the snow was falling down around them.
He pulled away slightly, staring down at she the way she always dreamed he would, but the reality was much, much better.
He rested his forehead against her own, both of she shivering from the cold yet in no hurry to get back inside. The corner of his lips turned upwards into a smirk.
“It’s you, Emma. You’re it for me. Fuck, I love you. I have loved for years. You never seemed like you felt the same so I assumed you didn’t feel the same. You never said anything so I tried to get over you but... I couldn’t be with Ava anymore when I found out you were an option. The best option. The only option I want.”
As he leant down to kiss her again, standing with her in his arms, her clothes soaked through and her shoes filling with freezing water, Emma could not help the smile that began to creep onto her face. She had fantasised about this moment over and over again, and now… Now it was finally happening.
It was better than she could have ever imagined.
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intobarbarians · 4 years
Text
part nine to this
***
The first bone he ever broke was his left tibia. It happened outside of grandmother’s apartment, when he was seven years old.
His grandmother always tried her goddamned hardest to keep him and Yukina apart. She made them sleep in separate rooms and enrolled them in separate schools. They ate at separate times, existing in separate worlds under the same roof.
He missed all of Yukina’s first grade plays. She missed his increasingly violent outbursts in school.
His grandmother reveled in every disparaging comment his teachers left on his report card. “You think it’s just me? Everyone sees you for what you are,” she’d say. “That’s the inescapable truth about you, boy. You’re destined for nothing good.”
What was there to say to that? On that point, they were agreed.
Outside his and Yukina’s rooms stood a grand, old tree. At night he’d slip into its waiting branches and carefully climb outside her window.
“Don’t listen to her,” his sister would say. He wanted to hold her hand but the branch was too far away. “You’re my very favorite person in the whole world, big brother! You’re the strongest, kindest, best brother I could have asked for.” He wasn’t so sure about any of that, but it was always wonderful to hear her say it, to believe it for him. “We’re going to grow up and go somewhere she’ll never find us and we’ll always be together.”
It seemed impossible. It had to happen.
Fights were common with his grandmother. He broke things--vases, furniture, Hina’s hand mirror. His grandmother delighted in his violence. She loved it when he proved her right.
Yukina would stretch her hand as far as she could after fights like those. They were too small to bridge the gap between, but they never stopped trying. “I wish I could protect you.”
He loved the oak tree. It was the only thing that kept him connected to Yukina.
He could have climbed it blindfolded, backwards, and with one hand tied behind his back, but still--
Still, his foot slipped.
He fell and hit the ground and he’s probably lucky he broke just his leg and not his back.
He looked up miserably at Yukina’s window, but he didn’t make a sound. His grandmother could never know they found a way to break her rules.
A neighbor found him when she was leaving for work. It had been hours.
The injection is an inferno in his veins. His cells are being ripped apart and it’s only his strength of will holding him together. He will be damned if he dies here, and especially if he dies before his old hag of a grandmother.
Hiei screams.
Yusuke lifts Ichigaki off his feet and slams him against the wall. The needle falls into the grass. “What the fuck did you do?” Shit. If Hiei doesn’t stop him, Yusuke will kill Ichigaki and how will he find Shigure then?
He tells his body to stand, to get the fuck up right now, but it refuses to obey him. He looks down at his arms. In between blinks of an eye he thinks he sees scales ripple across his skin.
Yusuke raises his fist. Killing intent pours off him in waves. “Start talking--or I start punching your stupid face in.”
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, young man,” Ichigaki says. “I am the only person who can help your friend over there. If you kill me or maim me in any way, then you might as well start composing his eulogy.”
Yusuke snarls at Koto. “Hey, ref, this guy just poisoned my teammate! Can’t you do something?”
Koto steps back in the face of Yusuke’s rage. “I’m sorry, but the match is over. There’s really nothing in the handbook that covers this kind of situation! Besides, Team Ichigaki already lost. It’s out of the Tournament Committee’s hands-”
Yusuke howls. “Are you kidding me? Look at him, he’s fucking dying!”
Kurama lays a hand on Hiei’s pulse. Hiei tries to pull away. It’s too cold. “He’s burning up. We’ve got to bring down his fever.”
“I’ve got him.” Kuwabara lifts Hiei effortlessly into his arms. He feels so warm. Is Kuwabara always like this? A comfortable furnace with heat to spare? Hiei sighs. He never wants to be anywhere else. “I’m gonna cool you off, okay?”
Hiei shakes his head. “Hotter.”
“I’m sorry, kid, but humans generally avoid cooking their brains in their skulls. Or so I’ve heard.”
He digs his talons into Kuwabara’s shoulder. His gasp is a lovely sound. “Hotter.”
Ryo picks up the needle Ichigaki dropped. “I’ve seen this before,” he says. “I’m pretty sure this is the same stuff we saw him inject into M4 and M5.”
“What?” Kuwabara cradles Hiei closer. Good. Now if only he’d turn up the heat. “The weird cat lizard people Kurama and I fought? That shit is what he shot Hiei up with?”
“Genetic splicing.” Kurama narrows his eyes at Ichigaki, who is rapidly losing confidence in his recent choices. “What sort of DNA was in that injection? If you do not answer me, the consequences will not be pleasant.”
Ichigaki laughs nervously. He’s seen what Kurama can do with plants. “Let’s not be hasty, my good man. Experiments can produce the most splendid results! Your friend might even thank me: rewriting the very building blocks of his DNA is none other than the genetic material of the Dragon of the Darkness Flame!”
Kurama’s eyes flash a dangerous gold. “A coward like you could never get close enough to such a beast.”
“Of course I didn’t collect the material directly! I had a few assistants willing to sacrifice themselves in the name of science.”
Two faces appear in Hiei’s mind. Young and foolish; they have no idea what Ichigaki is asking when he assigns them their fatal task.
Yusuke is an avenging angel. Hiei sees his spirit energy burn bright like a phoenix. He grips Ichigaki by the collar and demands to know, “Can you fix him or not?”
A bell interrupts Ichigaki’s reply. “’Scuse me, folks,” Koto says. “The Tournament Committee would like for me to relay a message: the next round is to begin immediately.”
The crowd erupts into cheers.
“Fine.” Ichigaki wilts under Yusuke’s glare. “We’ll take this outside then.”
“Not so fast, Team Urameshi.” Koto looks extremely reluctant to say the next part. “Your round three match starts now.”
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smileyjaeminies · 5 years
Text
Love Again
Synopsis: Childhood friends, to strangers, to… Nothing? Jae is quite the puzzle, figuring him out won’t be the easiest thing you do. But you do want to try.
Word Count: 4,2 k
Genre: childhood friends au!, concert au!
Warnings: none
Member: Jae, ft. the rest of Day6
A/N: I had so much fun writing this work. I tried to make the concert experience a lot like my own, although I have never gone to a Day6 concert. I gathered all my information from Google so sorry if anything is different from the actual concert!
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         Waking up in yet another chilly morning in Korea, you think of every step that has led you in this dorm, in a country quite literally across the world from your home. The university you attended offered almost all its students the opportunity to study abroad for a whole semester, to learn, see and explore, not only the country and your studies but also one’s self.
         Most students jumped at the opportunity to leave home and travelled within the first year. Not you. You wanted to keep your head in the game, to fall in love with your studies before falling in love with another country.
         So there you were, only a semester away from finishing your studies, in Korea. Why Korea? Well, why not? It was so different from anything you had known back home… You figured if you were going to do this, you would go all in.
         Being completely honest, K-pop definitely helped. You couldn’t lie to your own self, seeing some of your favorite artists would be a pleasure. There was a certain someone… But you brushed off the thought.
         As you got ready for your day, you conversed with your roommate, Haseul, about this and that. You debated about the days agenda, finally settling on a gallery and lunch afterwards. Heading out, you felt excited, you could tell this was going to be a good day.
         When you arrived at the gallery, you were instantly certain you were going to love it. You thoroughly enjoyed each painting and picture, immersed in each of their mysteries and stories. You took photos of your favorites and posted them on your Instagram story.
         You tried to keep as much of this trip’s memories recorded on your Instagram. You only had a couple hundred followers and all of them were more or less people you knew, a friend of a friend and such.
         As you finished walking around the gallery, Haseul grumbled about being hungry. You wanted to stick around for a while longer, a bright painting of a landscape catching all your attention, but your stomach begged to differ. You complied, allowing Haseul to shine in her own element, searching for restaurants around the area. After going back and forth for a little, you settled down at a small seafood restaurant.
         You opened your phone to document yet another moment of your day, when you found yourself trying to bite down a scream at the message that popped up. You checked and checked again to make sure your eyes were not deceiving you.
         The message stared back at you loud and clear: “You’re in Korea?” His username shone in bright black letters.
         “WHAT THE FUCK?” you finally let out, a little too loud for the other customers’ liking.
         “What? What happened?” Haseul asked, concerned. You couldn’t even speak, so you just handed her your phone.
          “He replied? He actually DMed you?” she asked in disbelief.
          He could only be one person of course. Park Jaehyung, Jae, your childhood best friend. You had met him at first grade, both of you a little more than toddlers. You became fast friends with the boy with big framed glasses, who didn’t like toy cars as much as you did but still played with you.
          However, fate had different plans for you. After almost three years of knowing one another, you had become inseparable. A change in your mom’s career would turn that around, making you move to Canada.
          You believed that to be the first time you had known heartbreak. Jae took the news just as hard. When you left, you both vowed to call at least once a week and to never forget each other. The latter was obviously easier, one could hardly forget Jae, his bright nature and big heart making it hard not to love him. The first proved to be harder. First you forgot, then him, then it completely fell out of habit. You were little kids, so he slipped your mind, until one day you didn’t even miss him anymore.
          That changed around a year ago. You had met up with a few friends from uni when someone announced that his best friend would be joining the group. The minute he started walking towards you, you couldn’t mistake him for anyone else. His big glasses had changed a hundred times over, his hair was now dyed a bright yellow, but his easy smile was always the same. He was Jae.
           You thought that meeting would change everything. You talked throughout the course of the night, catching up. You found out he was in a band now, he was singing and playing the guitar. In Korea! You thought you would be reconnected after that night. Apparently not.
           As abruptly he walked back into your life, he walked right out. Although you had exchanged social medias, no message ever came from Jae. He was following you, but he never replied or even read your attempts at reaching out.
           You were disappointed to say the least. You thought you would have a chance to actually discover the man the little boy you knew had become. You were wrong. But while before your meeting, he was a thought that came and went, a part of a funny memory, now he plagued your thoughts more often than not. Especially in the previous days you had spent in Korea.
           You were shocked. After almost a year of being radio silent… This? How on earth were you supposed to react? You had been in Korea for about 10 days, why did he text only now? As all those thoughts raced through your mind, your phone vibrated in your hand.
           “Where are you right now? Let me know, I’m nearby” the message read. Seemingly impossible, your heartbeat sky-rocketed. You almost felt dizzy as you looked at Haseul in disbelief.
           “I’m gonna… go” she said as she saw the new message.
           You looked at her, lost and still unable to speak. She typed the restaurant’s address along with a simple “See you in a bit” and paid for the things she had ordered. After a quick kiss on your cheek and a “Good luck!”, she was out of the door.
           You sat frozen, trying to calm your racing heart. You tried to look in your head, to find where this anxiety came from. Admittedly, since the last time you saw him, Jae has become a regular thought in your mind. You had followed him closely, his music and performances captivating you every time. In the process, you fell in love with K-pop.
          Dowoon was your official bias, but your eyes always drifted to Jae. A crush? On Jae? It would explain a lot… But no. How could you have a crush on him, you barely knew him anymore.
          Just as you managed to calm down, he walked in. The smile he gave you sent your heart on a frenzy again. He was so effortlessly perfect, clad in black jeans, white T-shirt and black hoodie.
          You got up to greet him and he immediately crushed you in a hug, now several inches taller than you.
          “Gosh, Y/N, it’s been too long!” he said letting go.
          “I could say that I tried… Where have you been?” you asked.
          “Sorry about that… The tour was absolutely crazy! What are you doing in Korea?” he asked sitting down.
         As you explained, he placed his order. You conversed over delicious food, him filling you in on his tour and you on your first impressions of Korea and your classes.
         Talking to him was effortless, just as it had been when you were only children. The conversation flowed to different matters entirely as you “argued” about which flavor milkshake was better and which horror movie was actually scary. At some point, his voice got serious as he got a sip of his beer.
         “I saw you were at The Rose’s live Saturday” he said.
         You had to blush. You had uploaded some stories of you screeching at your bias Hajoon (yes you had a thing for drummers, so what?) and badly singing lyrics back to Sammy.
         “I was” you managed “I had a blast too. They are great performers.”
         “Do you listen to a lot of K-pop?” he asked.
         “Yeah actually, a lot of boy groups to be exact.” You replied, not sure where he was trying to get with this conversation.
         “Oh. So do you listen to my music as well?”
         “Of course! I like your band’s music a lot.”
         “I see… Do you have a bias?” he asked. You could see that he was fidgeting, a sign he was nervous. So that hadn’t changed.
         “I… do. But you’re not going to like it” you told him with a laugh, trying to lighten the atmosphere.
         “It’s Wonpil, isn’t it?” he asked.
         “Close enough, it’s Dowoon” you told him.
         You heard him mutter something under his breath, but he brushed it off when you asked him about it. After that weird exchange, he was right back to normal, laughing and teasing.
         Looking at the time, you realized it should be best for you to go if you wanted to get home before Haseul screamed at you for staying out late. You told Jae and he got up.
         “Where are you going? We haven’t paid!” you said.
         “We have, I paid” he told you.
         “No. No Jae sit down, we should split it! You being a K-pop idol doesn’t let you off! It’s not right!” you said.
         “Y/N, calm down! I only did it because I wanted to. My treat, for your welcome in Korea. Please?” he tried, holding your hand.
         “Fine. Ugh, you can still make me do you bidding, I hate you” you said shoving him slightly.
         “Ha! You wish. You love me” he scoffed.
         “Meh, you can’t prove that!” you said, walking out from the restaurant.
         “Y/N! Wait, there’s another thing. Let me walk you to the subway station” Jae offered.
         “Sure, what is it?” you asked.
         As you walked side by side your heart felt like it would jump out of your chest. Every brush of his fingers against yours, every deep breath seemed to hit you like a ton of bricks. You tried to remain calm and not think about how much you would scream if Dowoon were here.
         “Okay so… I want to see you again. I mean I really felt like shit not being able to talk to you all those months, I wish I could change that. Things were hectic and very different back then. My agency… Well, they have let us off a tiny bit now. What I’m trying to say is, I know I was a dick. And I'm sorry. I’d like to make it up to you.” He finished.
         “Jae you don’t have to. Really, I understand. It wasn’t the best feeling when you didn’t reply, but I know how it is. Did it sting a bit? Yes. Did it suck a whole lot? Sure it did, but I get it. I really do.” You told him.
         “Just let me do this one thing…” he started.
         “You already paid for food! It’s fine, really, especially now that you seem to want to make an effort.” You stopped him.
         “Well, let me do another thing” he said, pulling something out of his pockets.
         When you saw what it was, your eyes opened wide. Your mouth dropped to the floor and you had to bite back another scream. Jae was offering VIP tickets and backstage passes to one of their lives in Seoul. You tried not to fangirl too much but judging from Jae’s amused look, you weren’t doing too well. You opened and closed your mouth, trying to come up with something, anything.
         “Just come to the show… Please? If not for me, for Dowoon” he tried, pulling the best puppy eyes you had seen in a while.
         “Jae… I don’t know what to say. Thank you so much you really didn’t have to-” you started.
         “I wanted to.” He said with determination, pushing the tickets and passes in your hand.
         “Thank you… so much. I’ll be there. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” You told him with a smile.
         By then you had gotten to the subway station where he was supposed to drop you off.
         “I’ll look for you. It’s going to be a bit busy right now, but I’ll try to see you for coffee and muffins as soon as I can. You still like chocolate muffins, right?” he asked.
         “Of course I do. I’ll see you soon” you told him, wrapping your arms around his waist.
         He let go first, dropping you a soft smile and turning around. Just as he was leaving you, you called back to him.
         “Jae!” you called, catching his attention. “If you don’t at least drop a haha at my next meme, I’m not coming!” you threatened.
         He laughed lightly, eyes closing and hands going to his stomach. Your heart did several backflips at the sight, a smile growing in your own face. He nodded in you direction and finally disappeared in the backseat of a taxi.
         When you got back, you had a lot of explaining to do. Haseul was basically sitting at the very edge of the couch, ready to jump on you and shower you with questions the second you walked in. You tried to start from the beginning, telling her everything that happened. When you finally got the tickets out of your purse, she squealed with joy.
         “I’m meeting my husband!!! Oh my God, what if Brian actually falls in love with me? Y/N what am I going to do?” she went on and on.
         You laughed at the sight, making plans to go shopping because Haseul apparently hasn’t “Anything remotely decent to wear”. As you tucked in for the night, you thought back on your day. A smile quickly grew on your face and you fell asleep happier than you’d been in a while.
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         The concert day had felt too far away two weeks prior, but between your classes and assignments, exploring Seoul and meeting all kinds of new people, they flew by in a blur. Now it was the morning of the concert and you and Haseul were getting ready to hit the road, listening to a playlist Haseul made called “Day6 jams”. As you screamed the lyrics in each other’s faces, you took some pictures and finally headed to the venue.
         You arrived early so you walked around, meeting fansites and getting free photocards and goodies from the fans that were there. You stood patiently in line to get your lightband and a shirt for Haseul. You talked about this and that, counting down the hours, then the minutes to the concert.
         Walking into the venue, you were amazed by how many people were already there. Taking your seats, you found that Jae had placed you on his side of the stage. Taking a picture and sending it to him, you wished him a good luck and telling him you couldn’t wait to see them.
         During the two weeks between your first outing and the concert, Jae had kept his promise. No matter how late or early in the day, he found time to reply to your texts, even briefly. You had met up for coffee and muffins as promised, spending hours talking and sharing stories from all you had missed in your lives.
         Jae had held your hand as he walked you to the nearest subway station, making you blush like crazy. After dropping you off, he only said that he was really looking forward to seeing you at the concert, finishing up with a peck on your cheek.
         You didn’t really know what to make of anything that had happened that day or otherwise. It was clear that Jae wanted you back in his life, but as what? You tried not to think about it too much, but the thought chased you at all times, unwanted. Jae was again plaguing your thoughts and staying loyal to Dowoon had never been this hard.
         Your thoughts were drowned away from Haseul, jumping up from her seat and screaming.
         “It’s starting, it’s starting, oh my God!” she shouted, pulling you to your feet and holding your hand tightly.
         Excitement rushed through your veins as the lights dimmed down and five familiar figures arrived on the stage. The song started playing, almost shyly, tasting the waters. You recognized ‘Best Part’ and fangirling mode was: on. Screaming the lyrics back to the members, as well as the fanchants had you breathing heavily but the end of the song.
         You continued being energetic and enjoying each song as the concert went on. When Dowoon stepped down from his drum set to join the boys you let out and huge scream, excited to finally catch a good glimpse at him. The ments from the boys were heartwarming, each one bringing their own colours and interacting with the fans.
         You were on cloud nine, magically transformed and led through a way of notes, lyrics and feelings altogether too intense for your body to handle. You tried to stay in the moment, allowing yourself to feel Dowoon singing in ‘Wanna Go Back’, Wonpil’s melodic voice in ‘Like That Sun’ and Sungjin’s honey vocals in ‘I Smile’. Haseul held your hand tightly and cried during Brian’s parts in ‘I Need Somebody’, constantly screaming “WHO HURT YOU?”.
         The boys’ solo stages were sprinkled throughout the concert, making you excited for what was to come next. Everyone was at the top of their game that night and you would be lying if you said you didn’t tear up as well at some songs.
         As the night progressed, the boys took the stage to say some final words before the encore. Jae was the last one to speak up, but judging by the look on his face, he looked as happy to be there as you were. You marveled at all of them, sweaty and still pumped up from the energy the fans were giving them.
         “So you guys, sadly the encore is about to begin which means the end is soon approaching” he said into his mic and the crowd screamed their disappointment, you included.
         “I know, I know, sad times indeed. But I’d like to share with you all a reason why I’m so happy tonight.” He stated and the crowd screamed their support.
         “Well, you see, there’s a very important person in this crowd here today, a person I cherish very much. They were lost to me for a while. But now I got them back. And I thought I’d take this moment right here to say that I love them. And I don’t think I want to let go” he finished and his gaze stayed to where you we sitting.
         His gaze flashed through you, finding its target right into your heart. You were star-struck, tears filling your eyes and blurring your vision. You felt Haseul enveloping you in a hug and trying to calm you down. You could hear ‘Freely’ playing in the background as you realized the truth you were trying to avoid for too long.
         The final songs passed by in a whirlwind of emotions, you trying to come back to the concert, but your mind straying away to one certain boy. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him, his eyes shining as he sang and played his beloved guitar.
         As the last notes of ‘Better Better’ filled the air, the end of a beautiful concert had come at last. Final goodbyes were being said and Jae stuck around to wave to your side of the venue. You were waving back, although you doubted he would see you.
         After the boys went backstage, everyone was up and in a hurry to leave. You and Haseul sat back down to catch your breaths before heading backstage.
         “Are you okay?” she asked, testing the waters.
         You looked back at her, giving her a smile. Since the first time you had met her back home, Haseul had been a very thoughtful friend, always taking good care of you and loving you so much with her big heart. Coming back to her, even in a strange country, felt like coming back home.
         “I think I’m okay” you finally managed, easing her worried stare. “It was an intense concert…”
         “It sure was. You think you’re ready to head back?” she asked, seeing the concert hall emptying.
         “Let’s go meet your future husband” you told her, taking her hand and walking towards the backstage.
         Showing your backstage passes to the guards, you were lead though a narrow corridor with doors on either side. You arrived at a final door that read “Artist” and had the Day6 logo right below it.
         As you were pushed inside, you tried to silence your mind. You needed to be yourself, be genuine. Try to enjoy this. Walking into the room, you called “Hello?” with a small voice.
         All the boys’ attention was now on you and Haseul. You tried hard not to panic and gave them a small smile which spurred them into action. They all got up to greet you together. Jae started walking towards you, a huge smile on his face. You decided to stir the pot a little, walking completely past him and into Dowoon’s arms. He laughed into your hair and your heart soared at the sound. After some hesitation, he wrapped his own arms around you and held you.
         “I’ve been so excited to meet you, you don’t even know. I need you to know that I see the effort you put in. I appreciate you so much, I’m so super proud of you. I can’t wait to hear more from your singing, please keep pursuing it, it suits you so well. You are so amazing, so so talented I swear.” You rambled. You would go on, but judging by his amused stare you’d already said too much.
         You moved on to Wonpil, hugging him tightly. “Hi” he said, half-laughing.
         “Hey. I don’t need to tell you this but please never stop singing. Your voice touches so many people, it’s unreal. So don’t stop okay?” you asked.
         “Okay, I won’t” he cutely answered back with a smile.
         You hugged Sungjin quickly and stepped back to look at him in the eyes.
         “Thank you for putting up with them, I don’t know how you do it. You are always deeply appreciated, I hope you know it. The way you allow every song to live through you is something I’ve never seen before. I’m sorry Jae is the way he is, I think I may have something to do with that.” You admitted
         Sungjin only shook his head. “Jae is just… Jae. Thank you though.”
         You moved on to Brian, hugging him tightly. “Your songs are too fucking real. I swear to God everything you write either comforts me greatly, or touches me in ways I don’t even understand… Thank you and also what the fuck.” You told him and you both burst into laughter.
         “Thank you as well, you guys are the best” he answered.
         “You bet we are!” Haseul said from behind you.
         Jae was purposely left for last. You had done your best not to look at him before greeting the others, afraid he would read right through your gaze and into your heart. Turning to him now, you were faced with his expectant stare. He opened his arms wide.
        “Saving the best for last?” he jokingly asked.
        You walked into his arms, burring your face in his neck.
        “Saving the most special for last” you whispered as you squeezed his waist.
        “Really?” He asked, his tone low. His whole demeanor had shifted, no trace of the joking, playful look he had given you only a second before.
        “Yes really. I heard what you said out there, which was stupid by the way. Now your company is going to be all up in your ass. But I feel the same way. I think I have for a while.” You said, smiling up to him.
        “Really?” he repeated.
        You laughed and buried your face in his neck once more, hugging him even tighter than before.
        “Y/N” Jae started, cupping your face in his hands, thumbs caressing your cheek.
        “If they make out right here, I swear I am going to barf” Brian announced.
        “Nooo, look, it’s so romantic” Haseul cooed.
        Jae placed a kiss on your cheeks between your giggles. “Later” he promised.
        You didn’t know exactly what that promise would entail. Probably an abundance of sleepless nights, face times and texts. But you were willing to find out. For all the hugs and kisses, the smiles and the jokes.
        “We’ll see” you told yourself.
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hermeticimp · 4 years
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Witchy Then Vs. Now #WakingWitchblr
Hey guys! So, I’ve seen a bunch of posts on witchy things we’ve done as children. I really love the idea and have been meaning to do a post on it for the longest, but I wanted to add a bit of a twist. Instead of just making a list, I want to compare and contrast my childhood witchy things to my practice now. This is definitely something I want to see other people’s takes on as well, so feel free to tag this under the #WakingWitchblr or #WitchyThenVsNow. Without further ado, I’m going to do mine! 
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Elemental Work
Then: I was super into shows like Shaolin Showdown and Pokemon, which had plenty of abilities that were linked to particular elements. Back then, I found myself very attracted to fire, wishing that I could have the ability to manipulate it. Kimiko was my favorite because of that (besides the fact that she was the only female member of the group). I was also into water pokemon like Squirtle and Staryu. I found it funny when I found out I was a Fire Rat under the Chinese zodiac. Despite knowing that Libra was an air sign, I identified more with the passion and intensity of fire. 
Now: I work with all the elements! XD Nah, but seriously, now I see the strengths and weaknesses of each element, then use whichever one or ones work best for the situation. I do a lot of work with fire through candle and sun magic. I work with water via cleansing, water magic, and lunar magic. I use earth when grounding, relaxing, and using crystals and my wooden wand. I use air when I work with the wind, humidifiers/diffusers, and incense. I still love fire, but not so much for the cool factor. I find myself much more aligned to air now, actually. Of course, I now know I’m an air sun, fire moon, and water rising, so that’s entertaining. 
Astrology
Then: Speaking of signs, when I first picked up an astrology book in the 3rd grade, I was only aware of sun signs, as most people do when first stepping into the subject. I was fascinated by the different signs and figuring out who was which based on birthday. I would read off sections from books or apps I had and found it hilarious when people freaked out about how accurate things were. In middle school, I started learning about moon and risings signs. It was an interesting experience, but I still focused more on sun signs. 
Now: Goodness gracious, I’ve come so far. XD Not to say I’m an expert at all - far from it - but I now understand more about astrology as a whole. I can read a birthchart, I have an astrology mentor, I understand that there are placements for each of the 10 planets. Astrology has become a major aspect of of my craft. I (try to) follow the moon cycles and other transits. I utilize astrology in my divination readings. I’m fascinated by seeing the different ways people express each of their placements and their charts as a whole. I’m a student of astrology (primarily modern and evolutionary) who is always eager to learn more. Soon, I’ll share some of my notes, but not quite yet. 
Astronomy
Then: I was super into reading books on space as a child. I often found myself nose deep, learning about galaxies, stars, black holes, meteors, comets, and so on. It wasn’t odd to find me staring up at the stars and Moon whenever I had the chance. I was fascinated by astronomical events, like meteor showers or lunar eclipses. I adored planetariums. I wanted the glow-in-the-dark star stickers on my ceiling like my cousins had. I wanted a constellation projector. I was ecstatic to work on a project regaring Haley’s Comet. Space excited and thrilled me in a way nothing else did. 
Now: It’s a shame, but I don’t really focus on space much outside of celestial magic and astrology. Don’t get me wrong, I still find space exciting and I will always have eyes for the Moon and the stars, but I’m not keeping up with the science like I used to. There’s still a sense of affection when I happen to read articles on new discoveries or technology or when I see pictures of the solar system and galaxies. However, my focus is mainly on the movements of the heavenly bodies and how that impacts us. I work with the energy of different planets through associations and timing spells for planetary hours, but that’s about it. 
Crystals
Then: Oooh, boy. So I was a major nerd as a kid (if you haven’t caught onto that by now. Honestly still AM. XD), so I adored going on science trips. At museums, it was common to find all kinds of rough crystals for cheap. I thought they were cool. I loved the colors and the feel of them against my fingers. I was drawn to rough rose quartz, amethyst, granite, and quartz back then. With tumbled stones, it was amethyst, ruby, sapphire, topaz, and tiger’s eye. I collected them as a child and was always excited to add to it. This interest kind of faded out as I went on less and less school trips to science museums. 
Now: You will pry crystals out of my cold, dead hands. XD Seriously though, I have a whole bunch of crystals. I keep them on my altars, in a metal box by my bed, and all over my room, honestly. I favor tumbled stones more than rough ones, but there’s still an affection for rough rose quartz and quartz. I adore tiger’s eye, amethyst, carnelian, moss agate, and amazonite.Crystals are a major part of my work. I use them in just about all of my spells, from the ritualistic ones to minor aches and pains-based ones. I occasionally meditate with them. I will most likely be found wearing some kind of crystal jewelry. My spells may be infrequent, but they’re a regular ingredient (which I’ll get into in another post). 
Animism
Then: As a child, I believed everything had some kind of spirit, from the stars, to the Moon, to the wind, to my stuffed animals. I remember talking in my head to the moon anytime I could. I imagined hearing her speak back to me (and a lunar deity very well could have been, who knows?). I remember when I would play games reminescent of Noah’s ark, wanting to bring everything I loved with me in the event of a disaster. I’d place all my toys under my blankets and feel at ease, knowing that everything was safe and had its place. I very well could have been influenced by media like Toy Story or Cars. Either way, I vividly remember all of that. 
Now: I now know that this is the concept of animism. It’s an ideology that I still believe in whole-heartedly. I still talk to my stuffed animals (room’s full of them), I’ve dedicated some to my deities, I’ve spoken to the spirits of plants and trees, I greet the Sun and talk to the Moon as I used to, I have a spirit in my pendulum. It’s a part of my practice and philosophy. I’m not as all over the place with it as I was a child, but it still matters deeply to me. 
Mythology
Then: I was first introduced to mythology by a friend in 5th grade, as I’ve mentioned before on this blog. Or rather, I was introduced to Greek mythology at that time. I had grown up reading Native American and African stories, such as those of Anansi. I found Greek mythology to be fascinating. Haven grown up in a Christian family (though my parents were rather lax about it and encouraged us to explore our personal beliefs), I’d read the Bible plenty of times. I didn’t really believe in those stories, particularly because God was either portrayed as an omniscient and violent being or omniscient, omnipotent being of perfection and love. Neither sat right with me. It also didn’t make sense to me for there to only be one god. So when I read myths as a child and learned what polytheism was, I jumped on that ship in a heartbeat. I didn’t worship anyone, but I loved the idea that there were gods of different things. With Greek mythology, I especially loved it because the gods were portrayed as having flaws, of being human in a sense. They were powerful, but not all-powerful. It was mindblowing to me at the time. I fell in love with the stories of heroes and tricksters, I expanded into Egyptian, Norse, and Japanese mythology. I took these stories as stories but also as accurate depictions of gods. 
Now: Mythology... doesn’t really play a part in my practice. Contray to some polytheists, I don’t take the myths seriously. To me, all they are are human made stories about higher entities. I used to get so angry when I imagined the horrific things that deities did. I balked when I saw people question why worship or work with these deities that were notorious for doing horrific things to each other and humans? I made jokes about Zeus and his supposed indescretions, which I largely regret now. The turning point, I believe, was hearing @underworldariel​ discuss how you didn’t need to follow the myths or worship if that didn’t feel right. And for me, it didn’t. Suddenly, it made sense. When I started considering the cultural aspect of mythology and began working directly with deities rather than attempting to worship them, things were easier. They slotted into my practice effortlessly. I do take some inspiration from myths, namely associations, relationships, and domains, but not much else. To me, they’re just stories - which is what myths means. There’s a part of me that cringes away from the people who use mythology in a literal manner to call Zeus or Poseidon or Hades a rapist despite that... not being the truth? And that “rape” had a waaaaaay different meaning back then. I’m not saying the gods are perfect and infalliable - I think they make mistakes and have regrets too - but I don’t think they have anything to do with the stories. Deity work is a core aspect of my craft. I adore the gods with my whole heart. The stories are still fun, but I’ve learned to dissociate them from the gods I know. I’m not saying that this is the right way to approach it - that depends on you. That’s just my take on it. 
And that concludes this post! At least for now. I may find some things to add later. I’m curious to see the comparisons you guys all come up with. Feel free to tag me if you do! 
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doubledeaky · 5 years
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The Music Sounds Better With You
Lucy Boynton x Female!Reader
A/N: Hi, everyone! This is something very different than anything I’ve ever written, in the sense that it involves a same sex pairing. But, I’ve wanted to write something that truly illustrates some specific experiences I’ve had over the past five years. A lot of the details in this story are very similar to those in my life, a lot of the feelings the reader experiences are my own. I hope this resonates with those of you who have struggled with coming to terms with your sexuality, this is my story essentially. Unfortunately, I didn’t get to go to my senior prom with Lucy Boynton, but I’m sure you all catch my drift. I hope you all enjoy this, it’s a story directly from my heart. Thank you all for the support. I am forever in your debt. -macy:)
Summary: Teenaged love is never pretty but with Lucy, there’s an exception. With her, it's devastatingly beautiful.
Word Count: 6.5k words 
Warnings: cursing, angst, discussion of homophobia and homophobic beliefs/attitudes, my cheesy writing 
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If there was a period in time in which you’d recognized that you were different, it would probably be around 8th grade. It was then, at the tender age of thirteen, thatyou’d discovered this seemingly foreign attraction to girls. It scared you, no one had ever really explained to you the concept of same sex attraction, you’d assumed no one saw the need. Growing up in a conservative family, where the idea of homosexuality was the work of the devil, was terrifying when you were harboring these clandestinefeelings. Sunday mornings were always dreaded, two hours sat uncomfortably in a wooden pew while the preacher screamed of fire and brimstone was never fun. Heated classroom discussions revolving around same sex marriage and the disgusted looks of your peers was enough to drive you into the darkness. You wanted so badly to be considered normal. Tobe accepted by a group of people you really didn’t care about was the ultimate goal. So, for almost five years, you ignored the feeling. You built a wall, an impenetrable one at that.
No one knew. Well, at least that was what you had assumed. You were good at concealing your less than traditional attraction towards the same sex, you’d essentially mastered the craft at this point. You mimicked the behavior you thought was acceptable and kept your head down. Playing the part of the typical straight girl had become muscle memory at this point; it sucked but it was a routine you habitually followed every day.
You wished you didn’t have to. It was torture living a lie, but you had your reasons. The Deep South was an unforgiving landscape for anyone outside of the realm of heterosexuality. You feared you would damage your reputation; as silly as it sounds, it was a completely valid fear. And of course, you feared the shift of perception from your friends and family. Would they see you differently? Would your most important relationships be tarnished? Would they accept you?
The thoughts clouded your mind almost every day. It wasn’t a constant dwelling, but every time you’d spare a longing glance at the pretty girl across the street, you were reminded of the repercussions you may suffer as a result of coming out. It was painful; but it was your reality and sometimes, reality bites.
***
The halls of your private high school were almost suffocating as you weaved your way through thick crowds of laughing girls, intimidating football players, and kissing couples. The air felt heavy, no doubt due to the growing humidity characteristic of the south. The scratchy white button down required of the uniform wasn’t helping you cool down either. You ignored the sharp stares burning into your frame as you neared your locker. You lengthened your strides, hurrying to escape their gazes. Themoment after you punched in your locker combination, you buried your head into it and groaned. You drew in a deep breath and began filing away the numerous papers and textbooks you held in your arms. This was routine. Youwent to school for seven agonizing hours a day, played the part required you, and returned to an empty home, usually ending the night with a few stray tears. You accepted that today would be no different, just a few inches from misery, until your eyes caught a glimpse of a familiar head of fluffy blond hair. Lucy.
Lucy Boynton, thegirl you’d grown up with, the girl who happened to be your good friend, the girl you were unfortunately in love with. You’d identified your feelings towards her around the tail end of ninth grade.
She had come over to sleep the night, the summer air was unusually crisp, and the moon was looming over you both laid out on the cool grass of your backyard. Lucy was pulling laughs from you effortlessly, her bright smile could be seen despite the growing darkness, almost as blinding as the light the moon was providing. Her eyes were narrowed by her wide grin, her blonde hair was chopped just below her chin, curling towards her cheeks. And for a short, life changing moment, you felt the rotation of your small world slow. You watched her talk and giggle in slow motion, you were in complete awe at the girl before you. You knew immediately that you were definitely different, this wasn’t just a case of envy, this was attraction. That night, your heart belonged to the blonde. Youwere okay going the rest of your life without her knowing, as long as you’d never have to live life without her presence.
“Y/N!” Her voice was sweeter than any calorie dense candy, naturally smooth and kind. Your heart immediately fluttered at the sound and you slowly turned to greet her, the hug she wrapped you in the only touch you’d ever want to experience if possible. She pulled away, her hands still planted firmly on your tense shoulders. Her smile characteristically bright as she scanned you up and down, face falling as she registered how on edge you seemed to be, but didn’t acknowledge it, which you were thankful for.
“So, senior prom is right around the corner. You plan on gracing the graduating class with your presence?” She teased, nudging your side with her elbow.
You couldn’t prevent the flustered grin that graced your features, it wasn’t uncommon for you to grow sheepish at her words. You gave her a mocking laugh, slamming your locker shutand shuffling hesitantly towards your first period. Shefollowed you, despite her class being on the other end of campus.
“I don’t know yet.” You sighed, and Lucy seemed disappointed for a moment, but you excused it as a trick of the eye.
“What? It’s senior prom. You can’t miss it.” She whined, giving you a pout, which was accompanied by her wide, baby blue eyes.
“I’ll think about it, Luce.” You sighed, giving her a soft grin. She seemed satisfied, skipping slightly in the direction of her first class, sending you a wave as her bright form retreated. You watched her leave, a drunken smile playing at your lips. The rest of your day went on as expected, thoughts of a particular blonde girl plaguing your mind.
***
You didn’t really have to think about it; If Lucy asked, you complied. The weekend after she had asked you to consider going to senior prom you were at the local mall, buried deep in a pile of potential dresses. The variety of colors, fabrics, and cuts were quickly overwhelming and the desire to call Lucy for help grew with every garment you tried on. Nothing felt right; most had too much beading, some were too tight in awkward places, others were too big in awkward places.
You were down to the last dress you’d brought into the changing room, its silky fabric and glittering faux jewels taunting from the hook it was hung on. You frowned, uncrossing your tense arms and plucking it from the wall with slight hesitation. You tried fruitlessly to pull the dress over your head before realizing it had a torso length zipper down the back. Groaning, you pulled the dress off, unzipped the back, and stepped into the fabric pooled onto the floor. You closed your eyes as you pulled it over your frame, afraid of what would be staring back at you from the full-length mirror before you. To your surprise, the dress slipped on easily, wrapping comfortably around the curves and slopes of your figure. With your eyes still closed, you fumbled with the zipper until it clicked in place at the back of your neck. A relieved sigh left your lips, the dress fit and as you shifted, it moved in tandem with you without restraint. You finally allowed your eyes to open and they almost watered when they focused on the figure in the mirror. The dress was a beautiful baby blue, beaded conservatively at the bust, and flared elegantly from your waist. It was the last dress you had picked, and you’d imagined it wouldn’t look nice on you, but it did. You couldn’t contain the excited squeal that left your lips, the small spin you gave the mirror was indicative of your happiness. Your hands couldn’t stop from carding gently through the folds of the skirt, your fingers taking in every hem and thread of the material. The sparkling beading at your chest was nothing compared to the shine in your eyes.
Your eyes instinctively grabbed your phone, ready to break the news to Lucy that you had found your dress. Before your fingers typed out any words you furrowed your brows in thought for a moment, then you began to type.
“What color is your dress?” You typed, hesitating before pressing send. Lucy replied within seconds.
“It’s a light blue. Like a baby blue. Why?”
You smiled, and quickly typed a response. “No reason. Just wondering. See you Monday.” You hit send and switched off your phone, throwing it to the distressed dressing room chair in the corner.
You were definitely getting this dress. If you couldn’t explicitly go to prom as Lucy’s date, you could at least match with her. You took off the gown, placing it back on its hanger, and redressed. You gathered the rejected dresses in your arms and hung them back up on the rusty wall hooks. Before you opened the dressing room door, you admired your chosen dress, imagining how Lucy would react, and wishing you could be the one to walk hand and hand with her into the prom venue. Your eyes saddened, your vision going blurry as tears draped your corneas. You slowly grabbed the dress, silently payed for it, and left the shopping mall.
The dress was perfect, almost perfect. The standardof most store-bought prom dresses wastheir obnoxiously long skirts, meant to be hem to the desired length. Of course, your dress was about three inches too long and was in desperate need of an alteration. After delicately laying the plastic protected gown in the backseat of your car, you headed in the direction of where the sewing machine wizard lived, more formally known as your grandmother.
Soon, the white picket fence characteristic of her classically southern home came into view and you turned into her concrete paved driveway, taking a deep breath before exiting your car with the dress tucked protectively under your arm. You hesitated before giving the old oak door a firm knock, you could hear the rattling of a walker and you immediately felt guilty for bothering your poor, arthritic grandmother. When the door cracked open, you were met with your grandmother’s sweet smile and open arms, which you entered gratefully.
“What brings you here?” She asked into your hair, her hand on your upper back a soothing force.
“Prom dress.” You said simply, lifting the garment up, the protective plastic crinkling. She nodded knowingly, flicking down the reading glasses perched atop her head to rest on the bridge of her nose.
“Needs a hem?” She asked, sitting in the chair before her sewing machine with an exhausted huff. You hummed in acknowledgement, giving her a small nod. Without looking up from the needle she was threading, she nodded towards the bathroom.
“Well, go put it on and we’ll see.” You nodded and quickly padded into the bathroom, changing into the dress and emerging from the bathroom, the excess fabric catching under your feet.
“Yeah, definitely needs a hem.” She mumbled, thumbing the end of the skirt and examining it with an experienced gaze. Silently, she began to work, folding and pinning the excess fabric to the appropriate length.
You watched her, envious of her seemingly natural knack for all things fabric and thread.
Halfway through the pinning process, she finally broke the hanging silence, “I heard one of your classmates is taking another boy to prom. Didn’t think they allowed that at your school.”
You drew your lips into a tight line, this was definitely not a conversation you wished to continue.  “No, they do.” You mumbled, keeping your eyes trained at the wall and hoping she’d change the subject.
“That’s a real shame. The school is Christian. And they’re allowing that? I can’t believe it.”
You felt a lump form in your throat and anger climb your spine. You didn’t speak, only nodded, afraid your voice would betray you. The conversation was cut off when she sat up, satisfied with her consistent pin placement. You felt relief flood your chest and quickly moved to change out of the dress and leave.
“I’ll call you when it’s done.” She said, taking the dress from you and reaching up to press a goodbye kiss to your cheek.
You gave her a tight-lipped smile and nodded, turning on your heel and slamming the door behind you. Your car’s interior burned your skin as you flopped into the driver’s seat, but you didn’t care. The anger in your chest was hotter than any sun-bleached leather seats. You couldn’t steady your breathing; your knuckles were stark white from the forceful grip you had on your steering wheel. You wanted to scream, you wanted to yell, prove her wrong, chastise her, but you couldn’t. You couldn’t because she would know. It wouldn’t take much defense from you for her to develop suspicions. You couldn’t, you wanted to, but you couldn’t.
Instead, you rested your forehead against your red-hot steering wheel and cried. You cried bitter tears, ones that fell with almost an audible drip, ones that made a splash when they hit your legs, ones that grieved something that has been long dead within you, ones that grieved your broken dream of a life in which you lived your truth. The dream seems so close at times, the items within it almost tangible, the freedom surrounding it almost felt, but it’s only a dream. It’s within your palm and then reality slaps it out of your hand, grabs you by the face, and reminds you of the truth. Reality spits at your feet and calls you a fool for believing in a world where you’re accepted. And you can’t fight it, you can’t get close enough to get a punch in. It’s quicker than you, sharper than you, and will always be waiting around the next corner to swipe your legs from under you. If life was high school, reality was your bully, and at this rate, graduation seemed so far away.
The sun was dipping below the horizon when you finally looked up from your lap. You started your car and back out of the driveway, starting silently on the route to your house. The entire ride was silent, except for your quiet sniffles and the taunting voice at the back of your mind.
***
You could not believe the sight before you. There stood in the middle of the hallway, surrounded by smiling students and teachers, was Lucy. But not just Lucy, her figure was almost blocked out by the school’s star quarterback with a prom proposal poster in his comically large hands. His expression was arrogant, as if he thought any woman would be a fool to turn him down. He eyed Lucy with a sick hunger and it made your blood sizzle and evaporate in your veins. Anger bubbled in your chest and you made a move to step towards Lucy and remove her from this less than ideal situation until you saw her nod and smile. She said yes.
Your movements ceased, and the beating of your heart stalled completely, the lump in your throat hardened, like acid it burned. The air felt thicker than usual and it seared your skin, burning and blistering wherever it made contact. It felt almost as if the air had been tainted with a poisonous gas, one that entered your lungs and made a home there, prickly and sharp like fiberglass to the skin, inflaming the tender flesh and making a simple breath difficult. Your stomach lurched, begging to be emptied of all its contents, and you could taste the bitterness of bile at the back of your tongue. You swallowed hard, your hands frantically searching for purchase in order to steady your shaky frame. The students around you cheered and whooped and the flashes of phone cameras nearly blinded you as your feet stumbled backwards, your weight barely caught by the brick wall behind the crowd.
You couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t think. The valves or your heart seemed to shutter and pulse unnaturally and you clenched a hand at your chest. This was heartbreak and for a moment, you thought it would prove fatal. You grasped at your throat, trying desperately to encourage air into your lungs. You choked and gasped, nervously searching the room for her but she was preoccupied with the congratulations of your peers. The world around you seemed alien and nothing made sense, the walls surrounding you seemed to crumble and fall to dust. Everything was pitch black and here, you were completely alone. You were pulled from your internal crisis when a fellow student bumped into your shoulder, mumbling an apology as they passed. Your mind was a jumbled mess of thoughts but only one truly stood out, run.
You’d accepted long ago that she’d never be yours, but seeing it happen before your very eyes was a pain greater than anything you’d ever experienced. Like a slap to the face, a punch to the gut, a knife to the heart, all at once. You felt your wide eyes sting with tears and your feet almost instinctively carried you away and out of the big glass doors behind the crowd. No one noticed you leave, all but the one person you hoped hadn’t noticed, Lucy.
Your breathing still hadn’t slowed, and the beginnings of a panic attack flooded your chest, but you pushed the feeling down. Your feet were moving fast with no real destination in mind, you just had to get away, from the reality that no matter how bad you wanted to be with Lucy, no matter how bad you wanted to live your truth, you couldn’t. The tears streaming your face were not only grieving the loss of Lucy, but the loss of yourself, the loss of an idealistic future, and the loss of the foolish thoughts that created the illusion you could achieve such a destiny. Trapped couldn’t begin to describe how you felt. The turmoil that had been churning within you for so long was finally boiling over and you knew it wouldn’t be pretty. Your eyes finally focused on the hidden area behind the main high school building and you darted towards, unaware of the blonde girl right on your heels. You immediately flopped down onto the worn-out wooden bench and screamed into your hands, biting at the fleshy heel to muffle your cries. Your sobs were uninhibited and anyone within a five-foot radius would no doubt be witness to your breakdown.
“Fuck, fuck. I’m such a fucking idiot.” You cried into your palms, your eyes burned, and you were seconds away from violently gripping at the roots of your hair, just to ground yourself, to feel anything other than the ache of your heart, the numbness of your limbs.
“Y/N?” A small voice called from behind the wall’s rounded corner. If it were possible, your heart sunk further into your chest. You craned your neck in the general direction of the sound but said nothing. Lucy’s familiar red converse rounded the corner before her entire body cautiously approached you. She immediately sat down next to you, wrapping an arm around your trembling shoulders. The gesture would usually comfort your worried state but now the touch burned, you could almost feel your skin welt and blister under the weight of her nimble arm.
“You alright?” She asked, eyebrow drawn in concern, the blue of her irises glossy and fogged. She never asked why, and that was something you could appreciate. She never pried or pressed further than you were willing to admit, she only wanted to assure you were alright. It was her nature, sweet and genuine, impossible to not fall in love with. You dragged the heel of your palm against your wet cheek and cleared your scratchy throat.
“Yeah, I’m good.” You lied, giving her your best fake grin.
She seemed unconvinced but characteristically dropped the subject,as she had no other reason to doubt your claims.
“Congrats on the promposal.” You said through gritted teeth, trying to prevent any bitterness from soaking the words.
She nodded and smiled that sweet smile and you shivered at the idea of that quarterback tainting her kind soul, or breaking her pure heart, even using her for the night.
“Thank you.” She seemed disappointed, but you imagined your eyes were creating images less hurtful than what was real.
“I’ve gotta go to class.” You suddenly said, standing up and turning to her.
She nodded, giving you one last grin before she watched you walk off, knowing full well next period was about thirty minutes from now.
***
The next few days were tough. You avoided Lucy like the plague, just the sight of her was too painful. This didn’t go unnoticed by Lucy and every time she sent you her usual smile or timid wave, you ignored it and her heart clenched a bit harder every time.
Now that she was going to prom with the star quarterback, they were considered a semi item among the student body. He kept her on his arm whenever possible and the annoyance in your chest grew with each passing minute. Every time he touched her or glared down at her, nausea rose in your throat and you had to look away to avoid vomiting. He was going to hurt her, you had no doubt in your mind, but you felt helpless. People would start to grow suspicious if you intruded on their “relationship,” and that was the last thing you needed.
Lucy texted you at least a few times a day, all of them going unanswered. Even when she sent you a picture of her prom dress, asking what you thought, you ignored it. Going to prom seemed impossible now, just the idea of having to watch her move on from you from the sidelines brought bitter tears to your eyes.
You wanted so bad to tell her that her dress was beautiful, that the color would look so good with her complexion, that she should wear her hair up, but you couldn’t bring yourself to type the words. You would be doing a disservice to yourself, allowing yourself to feed into the idea of you and her in any way would be detrimental. Torturing yourself with images of her, living a life with her, being with her, was pointless. There was no more you and her, there never would be, there never was.
The sound of your phone’stext tonesounded for the third time today. Lucy, you weren’t surprised.
“Prom is tomorrow! Are you coming?”
Guilt was heavy in your stomach and despite yourself you typed out a response, “Probably not.”
The three small dots at the left corner of the screen bounced, and you grew nervous of her response.
“I’m real bummed you won’t be there. At least come over and hang out tonight. We can have our own prom!” Your heart lurched, she was so sickly sweet, and it hurt your stomach, but you didn’t mind, if anything you could get used to it. Your thumbs tapped at the screen carefully.
“I’ll be there.” You switched off your phone and cursed yourself for not being able to say no to her. You couldn’t if you tried.
***
You arrived at Lucy’s home around five in the afternoon, a pretty reasonable hour. You and Lucy had been friends so long that you didn’t trouble yourself with knocking at the front door, instead let yourself in through the gate, knowing she’d be sat on the backyard swing, waiting for you. And she was.
Still dressed in her school uniform, staring idly at the birds flying overhead, her hair a deep gold by the setting sun, ethereal. Your stomach flipped but you took a deep breath and walked toward her. She noticed you almost immediately and met you halfway, wrapping in a tight hug. Your hands trembled as they gripped her, and you buried your face into her hair, you’d missed this, you’d missed her, and it made the entire situation all the more painful. She pulled away, smiling despite how shitty you’d been treating her the past week.
“So, you wanna tell me why you’re not going to senior prom?” She teased, guiding you by the hand to the white porch swing. You couldn’t help but smile, her energy impossible to brush off, it was infectious.
“I just don’t want to and it’s kinda too late. I don’t have a ticket.” Her smile grew, and her blue eyes took on a glint of mischief, you narrowed your eyes suspiciously.
“What did you do?” You sighed, plopping down next to her. She yanked a bright purple prom ticket from her back pocket and waved it in front of your face. You threw your head back and laughed.
“Now you have to come.” She squealed, almost bouncing in her seat.
“Look, I appreciate it, but I don’t even have a hair or makeup appointment booked.”
“I can do your hair and makeup.”
“I don’t have a date. I don’t wanna go alone.”
“You could come with me.” She said, almost matter of factly, you furrowed your brows in confusion.
“What do you mean? Thought you were going with- “
“I called it off.” She was serious, the hand gripping yours further confirmed how serious she was.
“Why?” You asked, the shock in your voice obvious.
“He’s not the one I want to go with.” She eyed you, almost longingly and the ache in your heart grew. Then it raced, did she know? How could she know? And if she did know, was she teasing you? Did she intend to make a fool of you? Out you to everyone?
“Please don’t joke around like that.” You said lowly, removing your hand from her grip. Her face fell but her determination was unwavering.
“Why can’t we go together?” She seemed hurt, but not in the way you were. She no doubt wanted to go as friends and that wasn’t what you wanted, you didn’t want to damage any image she’d created for herself because of your silly crush.
“We just can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Just, because. Look, Lucy, I’ve gotta go.” She suddenly stood to stop you, grabbing your arm softly, but desperately, almost pleading with you to stay.
“Why have you been pushing me away? I’ve missed you so much. Have I done something?” She rambled, gripping the sleeves of your sweater desperately. Her blue eyes were brimmed with glistening tears and the knot in your gut wrenched and twisted painfully.
“No, God no, Lucy. It’s me, I’m the one with this issue.”
“What do you mean ‘issue’? If it’s an issue, we can work it out together.”
“I can’t tell anyone. Not even you.” She looked hurt, her eyes were glossy and irritated by the sharp sting of tears.
“Why can’t you tell anyone?” Her voice was uneven and small, the tears pricking the corners of your eyes trembled and fell.
“Because I’m fucking scared, Lucy! I’m scared of what people will say, I’m scared of what they’ll think. I’m scared of losing everything. And I’m scared I’ve lost you. I’m scared that I’ve pushed you away past the point of repair. And I’m scared that I’ll go the rest of my life knowing I never told the most incredible girl in the world, that I love her. And I’m most afraid that if I did, she wouldn’t love me back.”
Your eyes were blurred completely by tears, but you could see the look on Lucy’s and it held an emotion you couldn’t name but it resembled heartbreak the most. Her brows were drawn together, her eyes an eerily dark blue under the film of hot tears. It didn’t matter what stupid emotions were troubling you know, the sight of Lucy so hurt was more painful. She released a quiet sob, clenching her teeth to cage them. She walked closer to you and grabbed the sleeves of your sweater tightly, drawing you almost flush against her. Your head snapped up, the tears brimming your eyes spilling over your lower lids. She was trembling, gripping onto you as if letting go would mean you’d disappear.
And then, she kissed you. Briefly, just a small peck, fleeting but soft and demure. And not a second after her lips retreated, they were on yours again. Moving now, frantic almost desperate. Through a silent line of communication, she spoke to you through the movements of her lips, a language foreign to anyone else but native to your tongue. You were stunned, almost unable to reciprocate the kiss as she gripped your face in her soft, shaky hands.
“I’m scared too.” She whispered, still gripping onto you tightly, shaking like a caged animal. You reached up a hand from between your bodies and swiped a strand of hair from her worried face, tucking it behind her ear.
“You don’t have to be.” You mumbled, studying her features for any indication of an emotion besides sadness.
You hated this, hated that she had been fighting the same internal war, that she hadn’t told you, that you hadn’t told her. You hated that she was in pain, pain so similar to yours, pain so great you wouldn’t wish it on your worst enemy. You hated how afraid you had been, how afraid you were now, that even when you were finally getting what you so longed for, things outside of you and Lucy wouldn’t change. You hated them, hated those who detested your identity, those who belittled and mocked you, those who damned your very existence. You hated how humanity had created a violent narrative against you. You cursed the very ground you were both stood on. The ground where hate was sowed into the plowed dirt and nurtured into a creature of intolerance, misunderstanding, and malice. A creature so powerful it dictated the many and condemned the few. A creature made to destroy beyond repair. But while the Earth rejected you, the sky cradled you, wrapping you and Lucy in a veil of luminous silk, its astronomical energy warding off the forces set out to harm the delicate form within its core. When the world seemed wrong, the stars seemed right. For you and Lucy, it’s always been this way. Those countless hours spent gazing at the speckled black of the night sky, finding an escape through the sparkling orbs that were so far away but seemingly close enough to touch. Those nights filled with tears and anger, the galaxy as witness, ready to comfort you both with a spectacular show of light. The night sky was relatable to you and Lucy, it’s misunderstood and sometimes disregarded, only loved by those who accept its mystery, its divergence from the known or approved. And like the stars hung so high up in the infinite span of outer space, you and Lucy are beautiful constellations of light, explosive spheres of energy, luminous fragments of all the known heavenly bodies. The sky understood, and the sky accepted, it is devoid of hate and judgement, only knowing how to follow its design. And so, like the night sky, you decided to accept and follow your design, for going against it would be going against your very nature. The hate within you extinguished and you gripped Lucy tighter, hoping the great expanse above you knew grateful you were for its mere existence.
“I’m here.” You murmured into her shoulder, your feet feeling unstable beneath you as your mind swirled and hammered. You could feel her tears through your shirt, her nails digging into the skin of your upper back, her teeth as they clenched. You couldn’t recall how many times you had cried like this, for this reason and the thought of Lucy doing the same was a heavy blow to the gut. She suddenly looked up, sniffling before taking a deep breath.
“I’m afraid, but I’m not enough of a coward to deny the way I feel about you.” Your breath was caught in your throat, hearing her say what you so longed to hear was an experience beyond anything this earth could provide.
“I am in love with you. And I know sometimes the words seem hollow or dull but trust me when I say that I love you. Not the kind of love that you throw away or that can be forgotten at the back of your mind. No, it’s the kind of love that scares the shit out of you. The kind that makes you so vulnerable you’re afraid it’ll mess you up. The kind that I only have for you. The kind I want to feel for the rest of my life. I don’t need to see it because I feel it. Everywhere, even when you’re not around I feel it. It’s been weaved into the fabric of my mind. You’re a part of me forever. And I don’t need a reason to doubt it, I trust it. I trust you, and I think that has made all the difference.” Her voice was small, but so beautifully sweet and reassuring that you’d completely forgotten the reasons you’d felt so afraid. She’s just told you everything you’d ever wished to hear fall from her lips and in this moment, nothing else mattered but her. Nothing else ever mattered but her.
You couldn’t speak, the smile on your face hurt, words would do justice to the feeling in your chest. So, you just kissed her, hoping she would know. Hoping she could feel the love, maybe even see it in the abstract shapes behind her eyelids, maybe even in the brighter stars in the sky. She placed a gentle hand on your face as you pulled away, her blue eyes still legible in the dark.
“Will you come to prom with me?”
“I’d be stupid not to.”
***
It’s raining. It’s raining on prom night.
You don’t mind, though, and you don’t think Lucy will either. You’re waiting for her, cross-legged under the venue’s covered patio, you have to resist the urge to pick at your freshly painted nails. They’re blue, just like your dress, and just like hers. The rain isn’t heavy, just a gentledrizzle, but it’s enough to have the boys covering their freshly gelled hair with their suit jackets and the girls running awkwardly for cover in their high heels, trying desperately to shield their styled hair with their clutches. You crack a smile every time someone arrives, each of them putting on a little show unique to them. It’s still early and you don’t have the nerve to go in alone, but you’re okay waiting for her. She’s been worth the wait, she always will be.
The faint clicking of heels catches your attention and your head snaps up, thinking it’s another one of your classmates trying to escape the rain, but it’s not. It’s that blonde girl, that sweet smile, those blue eyes and button nose. It’s her, it’s Lucy.
It’s almost in slow motion, like a scene from a movie. The rain seemingly makes a path for her, the droplets somehow hitting and bouncing off an invisible force field that surrounds her. The blue dress she’s wearing was made for her, like birds were made for the sky and fish for the ocean. The silken fabric billows lightly in the wind, almost dissolving into shining particles at its end. Like Aphrodite arising from the milky foam of the Mediterranean Sea, she emerges from the sheet of rain and under the canopy, greeting you like she always does, smiling. You almost don’t feel her take your hand, or lead you through the large double doors, or onto the dance floor. You immediately feel anxiety bubble in your gut as she wraps her arms around you, the urge to push away from her is strong.
“Lucy, they’ll know.” You whisper into her ear, your eyes wide and nervous. You were more nervous for her reputation rather than yours. This was the moment where you were to face your greatest fear, and you weren’t doing very well.  She gives you a sweet grin and leans in close to your ear.
“I want them to know. I want the whole fucking world to see how much I love you.” You didn’t respond, only wrapping your arms around her, resting your head on her shoulder and swaying in tandem with her to the beat of a song you didn’t really care about.
The chandeliers above you don’t really look like chandeliers anymore. No, they look like a great sea of stars and you are both dancing among them. There are maybe one hundred other kids in the room, but you don’t notice them, you don’t hear them, you don’t even feel them squeeze past you. You can only feel how tightly Lucy is holding you to her, you can only feel her lips against your forehead, the ends of her blonde hair tickling your cheek. Her breathing is steady and calm, her heartbeat strong, and it’s almost music to your ears, a sound that could lull you to sleep. She smells like lemongrass and rain, like late nights and early mornings, like the trip and the destination, like the past and the future. She’s like a warm day in July, a field of tall grass, a flock of migrating birds, a clear sky, home. She is the sun that provides for the earth, the rain that soothes dry deserts, the comfort that eases worried minds, the rhythm that guides the dance of life and despite any previous fear, you’re unafraid in her arms, swaying under the stars of a night sky she painted with a practiced grace. If anything in life matters, it’s her, and you’re completely fine with that.
The night ends as it began, with her. The fear retreats and the sadness flees. Anger is replaced with peace and hate, with love. The sun emerges and for once, the earth feels welcoming. You finally feel a sense of belonging in this world you call home. There is peace like no other with her. Awash in the tide of her vast seas you drift, but not without direction. There is peace in knowing that she is by your side. There is good. She is the good.
Maybe you’re too young and naive to know what it is, but if you had to take a wild guess, this is it. This is love. And God, what a beautiful thing it is.
- I really hope this was worth the three week wait! Thank you all for your patience and endless love! Feedback is very much appreciated! 
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letscuttothefeeling · 4 years
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season three episode three
Let me start off by congratulating the producers – not you Ish – on this great episode. I finally feel like we’re back to THE SHOW. Not a weird Bachelor spin-off with minimal drama and blatantly horrible editing (see: Juliette’s grad party scene, where Chloe’s nails change color DURING THE PARTY.) Nope, we’re done with that and back to the good stuff, so on that note, let’s cut to the feeling.
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Come ON MTV it’s like you weren’t even trying. And yes, I created this, and no, I don’t have a life.
I know I’m going to like an episode when it starts off with the angelic sounds of my lord and savior, Ariana Grande. As break up with ur girlfriend, i’m bored plays, we zoom into Cara’s house. Personally, I’m hoping to see Victoria. Alas – it’s just Cara…and Garrett. God, Garrett STOP. Your ex-girlfriend has already outlined exactly how Cara is using you – since she did the exact same thing - and you’re still asking Cara on dates? This is so cringe. Where’s Victoria?!
Even though Garrett can’t score a date, Brandon can! Maybe instead of asking Cara to go look at babies, you should ask her to rollerblade, G Baby. As Amanda and Brandon glide around the Key, we learn that Brandon is celebrating his 24th birthday on Friday! And it’s “24, Like, Karat Gold Slash, Like, Pirate, Sort Of” themed, of course! He debates whether or not to invite Juliette while giving us viewers amazing helmet safety tips. Meanwhile, after Cara has removed G Baby from her property, she makes her way to Chloe’s to checkuppé on her. This is where we learn that Chloe has officially called the cops and filed a police report. I have a lot of opinions, but more on this later.
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Okay, something I haven’t touched on because I wish it wasn’t happening I haven’t had time is that Kelsey and Jared have sparked a little romance. If you don’t remember, while Kelsey was dating her random LA boyfriend, Jared was the 86th person she cheated on him with. I see this going well! I mean, it always works out when you leave someone you cheated on for the person you cheated with. Right? Plus, there’s Twisted Tea and mudding involved, so Kelsey can rest assured she’ll be going on sophisticated and expensive dates instead of the shitty and poor dates that Garrett used to take her on.
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FINALLY, the C + V scene I need and deserve. Donning a black one-piece that contrasts perfectly with her frozen fruity pink drink, Victoria is effortlessly exuding two polar opposite, chaotic energies. I’m getting “sassy”, but I’m also getting “I’ll fuck you up if you insult my 90’s Quiksilver skater shoes.” AKA, I’m getting Avril during the Girlfriend era. And I love it. As she floats next to Cara in the pool and shockingly proclaims that she’s not into guys, (what?!) I’m on my knees praying to God himself that she become a main cast member vis-à-vis a relationship with Cara. It’s Victoria’s show, and we’re all just living in it, baby. After Cara’s bizarre comment about how her parents punish her by locking her in their wine cellar (weird flex, but okay) Victoria giggles about how dumb Garrett is and we move on.
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We leave C and V for a Madisson and Kelsey reunion, but it’s not a happy one. Madisson delivers the unfortunate news that Chloe may be pressing charges. Oh no! I would be really upset by this, but I can’t focus on the content of Madisson’s words because of how she’s delivering them. Madisson, we fully understand that you’ve been to an acting class in LA because you won’t shuttupé about it, so you can stop over-enunciating everything that comes out of your mouth. Thanks!
After Kelsey tells Juliette about her impending stint in Florida prison, she gets understandably upset. Luckily, Boring Robby is there to teach Juliette how to apologize. Don’t say he never did anything for her! I want to point out that Kelsey truly has been redeeming herself this season. She’s been pretty level headed and a very good friend. If only Boring Robby could do the same… Later in the day, Kelsey confronts Robby about another thing Madisson spilled during their meetup. Apparently, while Juliette was fighting everyone last week, Boring Robby had the audacity to applaud her! How gauche. Boring Robby vehemently denies these claims, saying, “Always take the high road, because the low road is way too crowded,” and, “Silence is the best way to react to a fool, and happiness is the best revenge.” First of all, stop lying about things that were FILMED on national television. You’re now Boring Robby: The Liar. Second of all, why are you the human embodiment of my ninth grade Pinterest quotes board?
Grab your pillows and sleeping bags because we are heading to a SLUMBER PARTY! But before anyone can start braiding each other’s hair, Chloe begins to stir the pot, yet again. She delights in bringing up Brandon and Amanda’s new relationship right in front of Madisson. But to distract from the awkwardness, Amanda changes the subject to her missing phone. After the fight, she lost her phone and no one has been able to find it. She starts to give us a play-by-play analysis of why and how she thinks Boring Robby: The Liar stole it. I’m sorry, am I watching Joe Goldberg on You, or am I watching Amanda on Siesta Key? 
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It’s the day of the BG’s bday, and I’m so excited to see everyone’s 24 Karat Gold Slash Like Pirate themed outfits! They don’t disappoint - G Baby and Victoria are even matching!! I’ve never screamed so loudly in my life. Garrett obviously refuses to drink, and we’re off to the party. But first, there’s one guest who needs to arrive.
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As Alex descends from his family’s PJ strapped with Louis luggage, a BEER, and fresh digs straight from the Siesta Key mall, I can feel the blood coming back into my body. I can feel individual atoms multiplying. I can feel my soul re-entering my empty, hollow frame. I feel exactly like Bella in the fourth Twilight novel, Breaking Dawn. After her half-human, half-vampire baby has eaten its way out of her uterine lining, Edward is forced to do the unthinkable: steal Bella’s mortal soul by turning her into a vampire so she has a shot to survive. (It’s the second time in the series that vampire Edward is forced to resist sucking all of Bella’s enticing blood to save her – that’s true love.) As she starts to respond to his venom, each and every one of her cells begins to freeze over and restore life to her body. Suddenly, she is awake. Her vision is sharp, her mind is clear, and she’s never looked better. And that’s EXACTLY how I felt as Alex exited his plane.
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I expect nothing less than for Alex to arrive at BG’s party with three underage Ukrainian mail-order brides. And he doesn’t disappoint. Unfortunately for the brides, he immediately begins discussing relationships with Cara. It’s fun to see Cara pride herself in not cheating on people for the past year. I kind of feel like that should be a given, but okay. As they’re undressing each other with their eyes talking, Garrett is having an interesting convo of his own. Classic Chloe starts stirring the pot AGAIN by telling Garrett that Cara is using him. Really Chloe? Cara is supposed to be your best friend. What’s more shocking is that VICTORIA starts to betray Cara as well. This causes an immediate fight between Carrett. They leave the party and start screaming at each other in the jungle. I’m so enraptured by the fight that I momentarily forget they’re at a themed party and fixate on Garrett’s outfit. Why am I watching Garrett Miller scream in a jungle dressed as a pirate? Oh, right. Anyways.
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Even though Cara and G Baby are scream fighting, the party continues to rage on. And everyone is makingoutté. Kelsey and Jared, Amanda and Brandon... something is in the air! It must be the pirate theme. #LetsGetScurvy. But one person isn’t feeling the love – Madisson. With Dad gone, she has no one to kish. Clearly bothered by watching her friend and ex-boyfriend eat each other’s faces, Madisson decides to give Brandon the sad news that Amanda is using him. Whether or not she is, Madisson has no right to give her opinion on the matter. And BG says exactly that. Good for him! Another person surprisingly not making out with someone is Alex. He’s too busy being an asshole to Kelsey and telling anyone who will listen that Boring Robby is bad news. Probably true, but literally no one can be worse than he is, except maybe Pauly Paul. In other news, WHERE IS PAUL.
Unfortunately, the next scene doesn’t involve Pauly or Victoria – just Chloe and Juliette. Juliette shows up after Chloe gets out of work to hopefully avoid jailtime hash things out. Now strap in because I’m about to explain exactly where I stand with the Chloe/Juliette drama, and if you aren’t completely focused, please take a 10mg Adderall, wait ten minutes, and check back in.
Okay, hopefully, you’ve taken amphetamines and can really dial in. Here goes: I realize that Chloe is a necessary evil - it’s an indisputable fact that there would be no show without her antics. No one is as shameless when it comes to talking shit and completely ruining their friendships for the sake of television. And for that, I deeply respect Chloe. (I realize that sounds sarcastic but I am dead serious. Thank you for taking one for the team, Chloe.) But I simply cannot stand when she gets what’s coming to her then plays the innocent victim. Obviously, violence is not cool, and Juliette should be embarrassed by her behavior. But Chloe knew exactly what the outcome of that conversation would be. She was banking on a wasted Juliette reacting horribly. With Chloe, you simply cannot win. Earlier in this episode, Chloe verbatim says to Madisson and Cara, “If the roles were reversed, I would have shown up at her house, apologizing.”
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Now cut to this scene, where Chloe verbatim says to Juliette (after Juliette shows up at her workplace) “I really don’t know why you’re here, so if you can please leave and leave me alone.”
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Juliette said it best herself – “Chloe is my best friend when I’m miserable. When I’m actually thriving…this type of stuff happens.” Let’s take a moment to analyze the similarities and differences of how Chloe and the rest of the cast handled Chloe’s altercation with Amanda during season one, in which Amanda broke Chloe’s nose and sent her to surgery. After sending Chloe to the hospital, Amanda justifies her actions by saying that Chloe started it first. So everyone is okay with Amanda decking Chloe. The fact is, Chloe started it first here, too. Chloe swatted at Juliette’s hand first. So why did everyone grab coffee with Amanda, but ostracize Juliette? Amanda even had a sit-down conversation with Chloe after her surgery expecting Chloe to apologize. The inconsistencies and hypocrisy present…I CANNOT.
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Chloe acts like everyone’s best friend to stay relevant and betrays them the second it benefits her. While I do agree that Juliette is only apologizing because she’s scared Chloe will press charges, I think people who talk shit, unfortunately, get hit, on occasion. Until next week!
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cygnetofthesea · 5 years
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The Fight In Us: WA AU Fic
A fic I started writing exactly a year ago but never posted for some reason. Hope you guys enjoy it! On AO3
High school-WA
There was a loud crash of what sounded like bodies colliding that jolted Iris out of her thoughts.  She looked over to the source but a crowd had already formed, blocking her view of what she imagined was yet another fight at Central City High.
With a roll of her eyes, Iris looked away and resumed picking at her lunch.  It was a beautiful day out in the quad and she was feeling a little peeved that some idiots decided to settle scores with their fists.
"Holy shit, Iris, that scrawny kid is pummeling the big dude," Linda exclaimed.  
Linda was new to the school and didn't quite know everyone's names yet but Iris knew exactly who she was talking about as her heart thudded in her chest.  She looked over and sure enough, as the crowd spread out, Iris caught a flash of thick brown hair and pale hands before disappearing from view again.
"Who is that?" Linda asked.
Iris sighed deeply and rolled her eyes even as her heart fluttered.  "My ex."
"Wait, what?  You dated that guy?"
Iris didn't answer, watching as the crowd cheered, her legs suddenly bouncing up and down anxiously.  She wrung her fingers, contemplating, before letting out another sigh that sounded more like a groan and getting up.
She marched up to the crowd her jaws set, eyes flashing in irritation.  It was that anger and frustration that fueled her strength as she manhandled bodies out of the way, ignoring the cries of "Hey!"
By the time she made it to the front of the crowd, her ex-boyfriend Barry Allen was straddling Tony Woodward, his fist raised, rearing back to land another punch into him.
"Barry!"
Barry's fist stopped abruptly halfway toward its target, his head snapping up to look at her.  And like a switch flipping, his eyebrows relaxed from their previously furrowed state and a wide grin formed on his split lips.  There's a bright red splotch on his cheekbone where she knows a bruise would be blooming by the end of their lunch period.  Her stomach twists at the sight.
"Iris," he said breathlessly.  "Hey, baby."
The endearment slipped past his lips so effortlessly despite the fact that by conventional definitions, she was no longer his, just as he was no longer hers.  Iris hates the flutter in her heart at the sight of his happy smile, that smile that was reserved just for her.  But, she ignored it as she crossed her arms and looked at him sternly.
It took great effort to keep the scowl on her face and to ignore the flutter at his starry gaze upon her face. He was looking at her as though he was in awe of her and it simultaneously frustrated and thrilled her. But thankfully, she was able to shove aside her treacherous heart and use her brain.
"Barry, what are you doing?  Get off of him."
Barry clumsily got off of Tony, his eyes on her with that same damn heart-melting smile.  He steps over Tony's prone body as he made his way toward her while the crowd around them dissipated with disappointment. He trips over his own feet before straightening and Iris absolutely hates how that makes her heart squeeze in a way only Barry could.
(She actually really loves it.)
"Iris hi," he breathed, his eyes dazed and taking her in, flickering across her face.
"Barry," she said airily.  "Up to your old antics, I see?"
His eyes widened as he looks behind him where Tony Woodward lay, groaning.  His buddy was crouched over him, sending a glare Barry's way.
"No, I-that's not, that's not what it looks like, Iris."
"No?  Because it looked like you were pummeling Tony Woodward.  That's not what happened?"
"I mean, it is," he relented anxiously, "but it's not-what I mean to say is that I haven't been in a fight in a really long time. The whole time you were gone, I've been good, I promise."
Iris looked at him skeptically through narrowed eyes. "Ok, so do you want to tell me what that was all about?"
Barry fidgeted under her gaze, fiddling with the hem of his plaid button down as he shuffled his feet nervously. He glanced around before taking Iris's wrist softly in his hand. Iris had to suppress the gasp that threatened to slip out at his touch. It was the first time in too long that she had felt his hands on her skin and her heart ached at just how much she missed it.
"Um, is it alright if we talk somewhere else? I have a feeling Tony's going to be pissed and go for round two when he comes to."
"Yeah, sure," she said shakily, failing to sound nonchalant. She slips her wrist from his hold and ignored the hurt look on his face even as it cut through her.
They walked quietly side by side away from the loud cacophony of the courtyard as they made their way inside the school. After what feels like an eternity in which Iris had to fight the urge to burrow herself in his embrace, he finally spoke.
"Um, it's really good to see you.  You look great."
"Thank you, you do too." And he did.  He didn’t look much different since she last saw him seven months ago, but there were small changes like the thickness of his hair, the slight stubble that apparently was finally appearing.
Iris remembered when Barry would complain about being a late bloomer in the ninth grade while fellow male classmates were already sporting scruffs and his face remained baby smooth. She had giggled and slid her palms across his soft cheeks, telling him how much she loved his face anyway as she punctuated the words with kisses on his skin.
It was strange to see the stubble now, months later. It felt like years had passed instead of mere months.
He blushed at her compliment and looks at her with a smile. "How was the program in France?"
For a moment Iris forgot all about the awkwardness between them as her eyes lit up in excitement.  "Oh, it was amazing!" Iris exclaimed. "Seven months was definitely not enough. But, by the end of my stay, I was able to speak to the locals in almost perfect French, so I’m pretty happy about that."
"That's amazing. Now you can curse at me in French and I'd never know," Barry laughed.
"I wouldn't do that.  But, Barry it was just unbelievable and my media studies teacher was incredible. So smart, so witty, and funny. I swear, everyone should aspire to be like her." And before she could think about it, the words slipped out. "I wish you had been there."
He stopped abruptly in place and looked at her with an unreadable expression. After a moment of hesitation, he took her hand and pulled her closer to the lockers away from any passerby.
"Iris, there's something I need to tell you."
"Bar—"
"Allen!"
Barry and Iris looked to their right in unison at the sound of the voice, only to see the school's security guard walking toward them.
"Hey Mr. Albert," Barry said sheepishly.  "Guess you heard, huh?"  
Mr. Albert planted his hands on his hips, making him appear more imposing than he already did. He always had a snobby attitude that most students hated, but somehow over time, Barry and Mr. Albert developed some kind of camaraderie. Although, at the moment, it looked like Mr. Albert wasn’t in the joking mood.
"Yup and so did the principle.  He wants to see you in his office.  You too, West, you're a witness."
Iris furrowed her brows.  She had barely seen anything, but as she took in Barry's glum face she sighed inwardly, knowing there was no way she'd be able to ever turn her back on him in a time of need.
Barry sighed and glumly nodded his head walking toward Mr. Albert who ripped out a slip from his notebook and handed it to Barry.  "Come on, Allen, I thought you knew better than this."
"I know, I know," he mumbles.
“You were doing so well. What the hell happened?” Mr. Albert asked.
Barry shrugged and simply looked down at his feet. Mr. Albert looked at him in pity and nodded toward Singh’s office. “Off you go. There’s only so many times we can let you off the hook, Allen.”
Barry nodded and took the slip before heading toward Singh’s office. Mr. Albert looks at Iris with raised brows before huffing out a laugh and walking away.
As Iris followed after Barry, she couldn't help admonishing him. "See, this is what fighting gets you.  How many times have I told you, using your fists in not the way to solve problems, Barry. People are assholes and will always be, but it doesn't mean you start pummeling them to prove a point. You think Tony's going to suddenly see the error of his ways after gaining a couple of bruises? That he's going to suddenly go 'Ah Barry, man you were right, I'm going to stop being a dick'?"
Barry brushed his hands against his hair with anxious fingers, a tick Iris recognized as a nervous habit.  "I know it was wrong. And Iris, I really have been working on controlling my temper.  I just…" he sighed before letting out a groan, scrunching his eyes shut. "He's just…what he said, he's just fucking scum."
Iris watched as he balled his hands into fists, his hall pass crumpling in his hands. She put a hand on his shoulder and rubbed it soothingly. "Hey, Barry, just take a breath. It’s ok."
Barry inhaled deeply before slowly letting it out, his fingers relaxing.
They finally made it to the principal's office and braced themselves. Principle Singh looked up with a bored expression.  
"Barry Allen, the star student with a temper." He turned to Iris. "And our other star student who intervened is what I hear through the grapevine."
"Hardly. I didn't get in the middle of the brawl if that’s you're thinking."
"No, not at all," he said with a smile. "But, maybe you can add to Mr. Allen's story."
"I thought I was here because I'm in trouble," Barry said.
"Oh you are, but I'm a believer of hearing all sides of the story. So why don't you start and tell me just what went down?"
Barry shifted uncomfortably in his seat, sneaking furtive glances at Iris.  "Uh Tony was um, just mouthing off and it…made me angry?" he finished lamely.
Iris shot him an annoyed look at his pathetic excuse.
"Well, Allen, judging by the fact that Mr. Woodward is currently in the nurse's office with a black eye, yeah I'd hazard a guess that he made you angry. What was it that he said to provoke you?"
Barry stammered, "It's-it's nothing, it was just stupid stuff that he always says. I mean it's Tony Woodward, he's a bully."
"Well, some would say you're the bully in this case."
"What?!" Barry exclaimed. He sat up in his seat, his hands gripping the armrests of his chair.  "That is not true. How is self-defense considered bullying now?"
"Yeah, I'm failing to see how when pitted against Tony Woodward, Barry would be considered the bully here," Iris interjected. "That kid has a reputation that precedes him and Barry is actually someone who stands up to him."
She felt the tension rise on her back at the thought of Barry being accused of being a bully. Barry Allen may be a little too quick to throw a punch, but he was the sweetest guy she knew. If only he knew how to get his temper under control.
"Now, I'm not accusing you of being a bully Barry, I'm fully aware of Mr. Woodward's history.  What I'm trying to say is that if you stoop to the level of bullies, how are you any different?  How are you going to set an example of what the right thing is?" Singh asked giving him a knowing look. "Answer me honestly, who threw the first punch?"
Barry's leg bounced up and down rapidly before he finally sighed and relented.  "It was me."
"Why?"  Singh opened a folder on his desk and brandished a sheet of paper. "See this? You've gone nine months without incident. Nine months and no fights. What was it that backtracked that progress?"
"Look, I understand the error of my ways, do we really need a play-by-play? Can we just skip to my punishment?"
"Why aren't you telling me what he said?"
Barry's eyes flickered to Iris and she furrowed her brows in confusion as Singh looked between them. His own face cleared and he nodded in understanding.  "Ok. You can take it up with Ms. Horton in guidance, but don't let it happen again, Allen. You're too good of a kid to have his permanent record be tarnished by suspensions. You've got detention for the next two days."
Barry looked up in surprise.  "Whoa, t-thanks Principle Singh."
"Don't mention it.  Just," he lets out a sigh and looks at Barry meaningfully.  "Look, Barry, you're a good kid and I know if you channel that energy and anger into helping people like I know you want to, you're going to achieve great things. I see a really bright future for you and that makes me all the more disappointed when I see you getting into these kinds of trouble. If Tony gives you trouble, come to me and we'll deal with it. That's my duty, just as it is yours to get the most of this school and set a positive example for your peers. Do you understand?"
Iris turned to look at Barry and it appeared he was just as surprised by the meaningful speech as she was.  She knew Singh was one of the good ones, but she never saw him as expressive as in that moment.
Barry nods in jerky movements. "Yeah, of course. Thanks, Principle Singh.  I-I'm going to do better."
"I know you will. You're both free to go."
Iris led the way as a dazed Barry followed behind. She looked at him and could see the shame on his face and felt her heart clench in her chest.  She took his hand in hers.
"Hey, you ok?"
Barry cleared his throat and blinked rapidly. "Yeah, I'm ok." He was quiet for a moment. "Just reminded me of dad for a moment there."
She looked at him in concern and pulled him into an empty classroom. "You know he would have been so proud of you."
Barry scoffed as he leaned against the teacher's desk, looking away from her. "Dad was happy I knew how to stand up for myself and others, but he wouldn't exactly approve of this. Multiple detentions and almost-suspensions? Not exactly a star of a student as Singh thinks."
"I mean, yeah the fists need to stay down," she said, watching as his lips curl the tiniest bit. "But come on, Bar, you always, always have the best of intentions. You're always looking to stand up for people and it's honestly why I fell in love with you."
He looked at her hopefully.  "Yeah?"
She rolled her eyes and shoved his shoulder. "Oh you really didn't know that?" she teased, hopping onto the desk beside him.
Het let out a light laugh as he straightened and moved closer to her, the clouds in his eyes fading.  
"I miss you, Iris and I have changed. I know I didn't do a good job of showing it by getting into a fight on the first day of school, but I was mad that you had heard what he said and I just…" he sighed, raking his fingers through his hair. "I couldn't stand it and I know that's not a good excuse, but Iris, I really am trying."
Iris looked up, her legs swinging back and forth as she took in his words. A soft, warm glow filled her heart at the sight of his earnest face. That sweet face that was hard not to love.
"I know you are," she said quietly. “Even before I left, I saw it."
"Because you were right, Iris. I wasn't dealing with what happened to my dad, but I'm working on it."
"Yeah?"
Barry nodded, playing with his fingers. "Yeah, I've um...I’ve been seeing someone. Mom found this therapist a year ago and I finally decided to go."
Iris looked at him, her heart filling with happiness."Oh, Barry, I'm so happy to hear that.”
She reached over and placed her hand over his fidgeting ones until they stilled.
He let out a deep sigh. “I think I was scaring mom. I finally saw it when I caught her crying over the family album. I knew she wouldn’t want me to see but I couldn’t leave her that and we finally talked. I realized that she was trying to spare me and it hurt me to see her hiding her grief and I imagined she felt the same about me. "
Her heart clenched in her chest thinking about Mrs. Allen. She always had that beautiful smile on her face for as long as Iris knew her and when Mr. Allen died, the smile dimmed. She put on a great act for her and Barry, but Iris could see that it wasn’t as bright as before, like a light had been turned off. It broke her heart to see Barry broken, but it hurt just as much to see the woman who had become a maternal figure in her life lose her soulmate and try to raise an angry boy on her own. But Iris was determined to be there for Mrs. Allen just as much as she would be for Barry.
“I’m really glad for you both.”
Barry looked down at their joined hands and slowly laced his fingers with hers. "Iris?"
She held her breath, savoring his touch. She hadn't realized how she had been starved for his touch until that moment. There wasn't a day that went by she hadn't thought of him, but in the midst of exploring France and keeping up with her classes, she couldn't think about being in a relationship. While her classmates gushed about meeting French boys and wishing for romantic evenings, Iris only allowed Barry to invade her thoughts for a brief moment before she scolded herself about getting distracted.
But sitting there so close beside him, his soft, warm hands against her own, Iris felt her heart ache as she let those feelings wash over her.
"Yeah?" she finally responded.
"I've really missed you."
"I've missed you too."
He hesitated before gripping her fingers tighter. "Do you…do you think that maybe, I don't know, that we could maybe…go get some ice cream tonight? Or I don’t know, we could go to that Thai place we like instead of ice cream, or we could do both. I mean, that's if you're in the mood for either or there's that Turkish place too. I haven’t had kebabs in ages and they have that great spinach pie you like, I mean we can do any of it or all of—"
He broke off at her gentle laugh.  "Ice cream would be good. Mom already made her famous spicy chili so I can meet you after."
He nodded agreeably before slowly shrugging his shoulder.  "Or I…I could pick you up?" he asked tentatively, looking at her from under his lashes.
Iris nodded with a soft smile. “I’d like that,” she said. “Can you promise me something, Barry?”
“Of course,” he said eagerly.
“Can we make a promise to each other to be open and always communicate with one another? I love you, but I can’t watch you hurt yourself and not talk to me about what you’re going through. No one is invincible and we should be able to talk to each other. Deal?”
He brought her hand to his chest and rested his forehead against her while keeping his gaze steady on her. “I promise you, Iris. I’ve hurt you and my mother enough and I’m done with that.”
She closed the distance between them, her lips touching his. She can feel his gasp against her just as well as she could hear it.
“Ok,” she whispered.
“Ok”
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