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aprilsrant · 4 years

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Honey Honey! | Oliver Wood x Slytherin!Fem!Reader.

PAIRING: oliver wood x slytherin!fem!reader.

SUMMARY: (Y/N)’s friend takes his plan one step further, determined to get the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain and the overthinker slytherin together.

WORD COUNT: 2,032.

PREVIOUS PART: Lay all your love on me.

NEXT PART: When I kissed the teacher.

REQUEST: literally one person asked for a part two and I had to do it. I have in mind another part, and possibly last one, so if anyone is interested let me know!

WARNINGS: I don’t think so.

A/N: Please remember English is not my first language, so there might be some mistakes, you can always correct me and I’ll fix it. And yes, the title is another ABBA song because why not?

I still can’t believe the first part got like 150 notes. Thank you so much!

Masterlist.

Gif below it’s not mind, credits to the person who made it.

Three days after the party in the Ravenclaw Common Room, that same one in which she almost killed one of her best friends, the unexpected happened.

His mouth lifted in a grin, white teeth showing, eyes sparkling with excitement and, at the same time, craziness; Dorian, the one who barely escaped his early death, sat beside them, leaning his body on the big root of a tree near the Black Lake, orange and brown leafs beneath him. The other tree exchanged glances.

The afternoon was about to take an interesting turn. It’s not like he was never happy, but this particular kind of happiness came with blaring red lights, screaming and alerting everyone close enough.

Silently agreeing to ignore the boy’s strange, but not new, behaviour, (Y/N), Isla and Ethan kept working on their assignments. Before any of them could write something on the pieces of parchment, Dorian fakely cleared his throat. None of them looked at him, suppressed smiles on their faces.

(Y/N) had finished writing a sentence for her Charms essay when he tried to catch his friend’s attention again. But now using a different strategy. After the third long sigh that left his mouth, Isla, with lips pressed in a thin line, finally turned her head in his direction.

“Yes, Dorian?,” she said. Her harsh tone rivaling Professor McGonagall’s.

In an impossible way, his grin grew larger, resembling the Cheshire Cat from the classic Alice in Wonderland. Dorian fixed his position, making himself more comfortable against the root, legs stretching (a few inches away from Ethan’s ink bottle), eyes closed and fingers gently hitting each other, taking that typical stance of someone who’s planning something.

“What is it?,” asked Ethan impatiently.

“I come here bearing good news, no, excellent news and you treat me like this?” Always the exaggerated, Dorian feigned a hurt expression, right hand going to his chest and grabbing the part where his heart was placed.

Having enough of his games, (Y/N), who wanted nothing more to finish her paper and take a nap before dinner, decided to step into the conversation. “What excellent news?”

Dorian dropped the wounded act and smiled at her, glaring at the others as if he was saying ‘this is what good friends are supposed to be like’. He changed his posture once more —he really couldn’t stay still—, now sitting closer to them with his legs crossed, hands playing with one of the chocolate sweets Ethan had been trying to transform. The corner of his mouth never lowered.

“Nice to hear you’re interested, my dearest (Y/N), because this concerns you directly.” She regretted ever asking him the minute that answer rolled from his mouth and his dark brown, almost black, eyes shined with mischief. Ethan’s and Isla’s confusion showed through their faces. “I just, like just, saw you know who and he,” Dorian stopped talking when he saw his friend’s disturbed expression. Rolling his eyes —how could they be that dumb?—, he explained. “Not that You-Know-Who, the other one… Ugh, I’m talking about Oliver Wood.”

Their mouths took the shape of an O, realisation finally coming to them.

“He asked me what day you would be free to tutor him, so now, thanks to me, you have a date with Oliver this Saturday morning.”

(Y/N) and the other two stared at him. While Isla and Ethan broke into a fit of thrilled laughs and big smiles, high-fiving Dorian for his “work”, she was trying to control her anger and the words —the majority of them being insults— ready to leave her throat.

Why was he so keen on her and Oliver being together? Why couldn’t they understand that she was not the kind of person who would act on her feelings?

Yes, she had made it obvious that she liked the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain, but that didn’t mean she wanted to do something about it. She had always been awkward and, of course, situations with strangers (did she consider him one?) tended to go that way. The girl knew that if something, anything, went wrong with him she would overthink nonstop.

Saying nothing, (Y/N) quickly grabbed her things —a dark blue bag with white dots forming the constellations, the parchment on top of it and the quill on her hand—, stood up and left with a quick step carrying her body, ignoring her friends screaming her name to come back from near the Black Lake’s shore.

Entering the castle, bustling with cheerful students making their way outside to enjoy the warm and sunny afternoon, she decided this was the perfect moment to take that much needed nap, even if she hadn’t finished her assignment yet.

The Slytherin was walking down one of the corridors, this one less transitaded, when she saw the particular crimson fabric of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team’s robes. She lowered her head, hoping it was one of the Chasers or any other member that wasn’t him.

Noticing the person wearing the uniform passed right beside her and didn’t say anything, she sighed in relief.

“(Y/N)?” said a disembodied and sweet voice from behind her. Even if she couldn’t actually see the person calling her name, she knew perfectly who it belonged to.

Bloody hell.

Before turning around to face him, she closed her eyes, preparing herself. She’d never mind his presence, or him calling for her —hell, (Y/N) dreamed of that happening every now and then—, but now was definitely the wrong time for this. She was angry with Dorian for trying to set her up, exhausted from not being able to get used to the routine again and annoyed because of the amount of homework.

Finding his black shoes extremely interesting and intriguing, she murmured a small response.

“Fancy to see you here, I’ve been trying to talk to you since the party but I didn’t want to bother you in class, you always look so focused on the lessons, and with Quidditch practices I couldn’t find you in your free time,” Oliver continued. He had been trying to reach her? Her? “I found Dorian instead and he said you were free to tutor me on Saturday morning. If you can’t or don’t want to or whatever, you don’t have to. I know I should have talked to you first, but I didn’t see you anywhere and I was getting desperate because I can’t lose this opportunity and… and I’m rambling a lot, sorry.” He stopped tapping his thumb against his broomstick’s handle.

All at once, the feeling, more like an intuition, that he could be nervous around her engulfed (Y/N), spreading a warm sensation through her body.

She wanted to say no, even when this was the chance she’d wanted for too long but (Y/N) knew herself. The endless overthinking that she’ll have to endure before, during and after their “study date” —what if she was a horrible tutor?; what if he didn’t understand anything she’d said?; what if she wasn’t good enough?; what if he never wanted to speak to her again after it?; what if he failed and blamed it on her?; what if all this was a big and cruel joke?, would he do that to her, to anyone?—.

She really did want to say no, but how could she when he looked like that? Upper lip biting nervously on the bottom one, his cheeks of a rosy colour, constantly shifting his body’s weight, fingers fidgeting.

“I, um, of course, no problem,” she assured.

Why did she have to be such a people pleaser?

And why did she have to like him so much that when he smiled, relieved because of the answer, her heart stopped for a second and her stomach turned upside down?

|||

(Y/N) was sure Oliver had never wanted to revise Transformation so early on a Saturday, especially when his team was just a few hours away from playing their first Quidditch match of the season. She wasn’t so thrilled either, weekends were the only days she had to sleep till lunch, her roommates knowing that waking her up before one in the afternoon would lead to a pissed (Y/N) and no one liked that version of herself.

“Look, we can reschedule if you want,” she said after watching him fail once more at conjuring birds from the tip of his wand, “you are worried about the match and that’s making it impossible for you to focus on this.”

The Gryffindor glanced at her through his eyelashes, a frustrated look in his eyes —(Y/N) couldn’t figure out if it was because he was losing his time here with her while he could be training with his team one last time or because the only thing coming out of his wand were yellow feathers—.

Running both hands across his face, he replied, “I-I don’t want you to waste your time, but I suck at Transfiguration and we haven’t even started with Potions, which is worse, and you make it seem so easy because you’re amazing at this. But I’m not and Professor MgGonagall said that if…”.

For someone who had a brave and confident exterior, Oliver Wood did ramble quite a lot.

“I know what MgGonagall said,” (Y/N) interrupted, choosing to ignore the part where he complimented her, “and you are not wasting my time, Oliver. I agreed to help you, remember?” He nodded his head slowly, watching his hands. (Y/N) thought he looked like a kid getting reprimanded. “Now, try one more time.”

And one more time he failed, yellow canary feathers falling down to the floor, joining Oliver’s past attempts at mastering the Bird-Conjuring Charm.

She saw him scratch his forehead with his eyes closed and lips barely visible because of the way he was biting on them.

“You’re not doing the correct hand movement, I think that’s why it isn’t working,” (Y/N) noticed, “look, give me your hand.” She grabbed his right hand, the one holding his wand, delicately, fingers barely touching the skin. Taking his wrist and positioning herself on Oliver’s side, she showed him how to do accurate motion. “And you just say Avis.”

The next time he did the incantation, a loud blast, pretty much like the sound of a gun being fired, resonated throughout the place. Once the smoke dissipated, several yellow birds flew from the tip of his wand to the empty classroom they were practising in. Twittering and chirping filled the room, but as quickly as they did, they became background noise when Oliver let out a loud laugh at his achievement.

He turned around, a big grin on his face and brightness in his eyes, now a completely different person. She smiled at him, his excitement starting to feel contagious.

“See, you don’t have to be so hard on yourself,” (Y/N) murmured. If only she’d take her own advice. “I think you’re good to go and-and do whatever you do before a Quidditch match.”

“Thank you, for agreeing to this.”

She shook her head, the corners of her mouth slightly going up. “No problem.”

Oliver walked towards the door and before he opened it, the boy asked, “will I see you at the match?”

“Maybe.”

“Nice, it’ll be good to see you there,” he’d smiled at her one last time and left the unused classroom.

Biting down the nail on her thumb, (Y/N) let out a silly giggle, one of those that only escape people’s mouth when they are drunk or can’t get that one person out of their minds. Perhaps she was reading into this situation the wrong way, but for just a tiny moment she didn’t care. She enjoyed the warm feeling on her stomach, as if a ton of thestrals had suddenly decided to fly across it, and the erratic pace of her heart every time Oliver would glance at her or say anything remotely kind.

Then the realisation came and with it, tangled like some kind of broken and dark creature, her severely damaged pride. She had to admit to Dorian’s face that he was, in fact, correct and that his ridiculous plan may actually work.

TAGS: @peeves-a-legend (amazing person and writer, read all of her work!).

#Harry Potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter oneshot #harry potter x reader #slytherin #gryffindor #slytherin!reader #oliver wood #oliver wood fanfiction #oliver wood imagine #oliver wood oneshot #oliver wood x reader #oliver wood x slytherin!reader #hp imagine #hp fanfic

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ssa-babygirl · 4 years

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Out of my League [Part 5]

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Single mom!Reader

Word count: 4.1k

Summary: A night out with the team leaves you and Spencer with so much unsaid, despite how much he spills to you while you’re drunk and half asleep.

Warning(s): Mentions of past addiction, alcohol consumption, some swear words, mentions of past bullying, EXTREME PINING

Author’s Note: I told yall this chapter wouldn’t take 10 years. just like... a week and a half. I promise I’ll do better lmao also enjoy the fluff cuz uh,, yall are gonna hate me next chapter oops

[Previous Part] [Series Masterlist]

Washington D.C., 2009

(Reader POV)

Rossi’s dinner party would not be the last time Spencer had to drive your drunk ass home. It happened two or three in the two years since that night. Dave meant it when he said you were one of them. Whenever they went out for drinks after a case, you would get a text from one of the girls asking if you wanted to come. Your mom living a few blocks away from you was helpful because you just needed to drop Jamie off and head over to O’Keefe’s. You very rarely went overboard because you normally had to drive home, but tonight was not one of those nights.

The team had just gotten back from a local case in Bethesda, so Emily offered to pick you up on her way back. Hotch gave them all the rest of the night off after they made the arrest, but Spencer, always the workaholic, still wanted to finish up his paperwork before going out.

Your mom came to get Jamie and take him back to her house, so you were free to get all dressed up for a night on the town with your friends. You didn’t want to look too formal since most of them were still going to be in their work clothes, so you got out a cute green button-down blouse and tucked it into some high-waisted jeans. You put on your favorite locket and let your hair down. You went with a light makeup look, just brows, cheeks, and lashes. You were all set by the time Emily pulled up in front of your place. You strapped up your wedges and grabbed your purse, heading out the door, excited to see everyone after they’d been so busy.

“Hey! You look nice!”

“And you’re not so bad for fresh off a crime scene.”

“Should’ve seen me catch the guy, I looked amazing.”

“I’m sure you did, Em.”

Emily told you about the case, or rather just the ending. You only liked to hear her stories when they had happy endings. This one was pleasant enough, but you had a feeling that she was leaving some details out since it was apparently so bad that even Spencer would be tagging along for drinks.

When you got to the bar, Derek and Penelope were already sitting at a booth in the back with Aaron and Dave. Penelope hopped up from her seat to give you a hug as soon as you approached the table.

“Hey, there she is,” Morgan smiled over his beer.

“Reid’s not driving tonight?” Aaron asked.

“He texted me, he’s on his way, he wanted to finish his paperwork back at the precinct.”

“So what I’m hearing is you finally have time to tell us stories about Reid in high school,” Dave said with a smirk.

“No, come on, he’ll kill me,” you settled into the booth.

Emily snorted, “I’d be surprised if he even found it in him to be mad at you.”

“Oh, it’s happened before.” Your face scrunched up at the memory of what happened that day on the football field.

“Really?” Penelope seemed shocked.

“Yeah I’d… Rather not talk about it.” You didn’t know if Spencer had told the team about the Alexa Lisbon incident, so you didn’t want to talk about how he had been so angry with you for babying him.

“Oh, come on, the kid was in love with you,” Derek prodded, “What’d you do?”

You elected to ignore his comment, “No, it was just stupid.” You could still talk about Kyle, though. The team knew the story of how you’d met Spencer, they just didn’t know about how upset he was when he found out you got back together with Kyle just a few months after you dumped him.

“We love hearing about the stupid things you did!” Garcia squealed.

You stared at the table and fiddled with a napkin to avoid eye contact as you said, “I dated one of his bullies.”

Dave was the first to break the silence, “But Reid said you broke up with him when you found out.”

You bit your lip and hesitated before owning up to it, “Did he tell you that Kyle is Jamie’s dad?”

Emily gasped, “No way!”

“We barely spoke outside of tutoring after that between him being scared of Kyle and basketball season. We were both busy with our teams.”

“Reid played basketball?” Aaron asked, amused.

“He was the coach.” You managed to crack a slight smile, “Budget cuts. But, hey, it was for the best, that was our best season in years.”

“Hard to believe he could focus on strategy with you cheering from the sidelines.” Derek wiggled his eyebrows and took another sip of his beer.

You were quick to change the subject, “So is JJ coming?”

Emily shook her head, “She went home after the case cuz she missed Henry.”

“Oh that boy is the sweetest little thing, I miss when Jamie was that little.”

Aaron sipped his whiskey, “How old is he again?”

“Ten. I’m old, don’t remind me, it’s fucking me up.”

“Ah! Language, bella.”

“Sorry Dave. But speaking of getting effed up, I’ll go get the next round.” You stood and took everyone’s drink orders: Dave and Aaron were sharing an expensive bottle that Dave had already paid for, Emily wanted a martini, Derek just asked for another beer, while Penelope ordered the most elaborate cocktail on the menu, but luckily it was her usual, so you had it pretty much memorized by now.

You strolled up to the bar and gave the bartender the order, which he got right on. He started with giving you Derek’s beer, then Em’s martini, then your rum and coke, before getting to work on Penelope’s ridiculously fruity drink. An older man stalked into your field of view with a beer in his hand, grinning dumbly.

“What’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?”

You snorted, “Has that line ever worked?”

“Truth be told, I’ve never used it.”

“Well you don’t have a great success rate right now, bud.” You looked over the man’s shoulder and made eye contact with Penelope, who turned to Derek and gave him a heads up.

“Well let me buy you a drink, maybe it’ll work better the second time around.”

“Oh, no, thank y—”

“No, come on, what’s one drink?”

You grabbed the tray with everyone’s drinks and started to pass him, “I should really get back to my friends.”

“Hey, I won’t keep you long,” He caught you by the arm and the last thing you saw before he turned you to face him again was Penelope leaping up from her seat to let Derek through, “what are you drinking?”

“Babygirl, how long does a beer take?” Derek stepped up behind you and placed a delicate hand on the small of your back, “This guy bothering you, doll?”

The man dropped his hand from your arm, “We were just talking.”

“Really? ‘Cuz to me it seems like you were trying to put the moves on my girl.”

“Babe, it’s fine,” you caught on quickly, placing a hand on Derek’s chest to keep up the ruse of holding him back, “I’m just waiting for Pen’s drink.”

“Get the hell out of here, man.” Derek glares and the other man leaves reluctantly. “You okay?”

You nodded, “Thank you.”

“Hey, no problem, sweetheart.” He withdrew his hand from the small of your back, “Wouldn’t want Pretty Boy to get jealous.”

You felt your face heat up as your eyebrows knit together, feigning confusion.

“Oh, come on, Y/N, you can’t seriously tell me you don’t see it.”

You played dumb, “See what?”

He sips his beer, “You don’t need to be a profiler to see the way he looks at you, Y/N.”

“Oh, god, first my mother, now you too?”

“I’m serious, I’ve only seen him like this one other time.”

“When?”

“On a case a few years ago. There was this actress we were helping out, Lila Archer.”

“Lila Archer? The Lila Archer?”

“Yeah, she had a little crush on Reid for a bit. They made out once.”

“They what?”

He laughed, “What’re ya jealous?”

“No!” Maybe? “It just seems so unprofessional, I wouldn’t have pegged him for a guy who would--”

“Hook up with a movie star? Yeah, I didn’t think so either. It didn’t work out with them, obviously, he said she only felt that way about him because he saved her life.”

“What does this have to do with me?”

“Ever thought about how you protecting him his whole life may have had a similar effect?”

“Showing him basic human decency didn’t make him fall in love with me, Derek.”

“No, but saving his life did.”

“What do you mean?”

“I think that’s more of a question for Pretty Boy himself.” Derek nodded his chin over your shoulder. You followed his gaze and saw Spencer coming up behind you, grinning as he neared the bar.

“Hey.”

“Hey, haircut! Lookin’ good!” Your fingers laced through his shaggy locks and messed up his new boy band-esque style.

A faint blush spread across his cheeks as he fixed his hair, “T-Thanks.”

“When you lovebirds feel like talking to the rest of us, I’ll be at the table with the rest of the team.”

You roll your eyes and turn back to the lanky boy next to you, “Lemme buy you a drink, Spence.”

“Oh, no thank you. I’m driving. And also did you know--”

“You can just say you don’t want it.”

“No, I do. That’s the problem.”

Your face contorted with confusion until it suddenly clicked, “Oh… Has that ever been a problem for you before?”

“Not anymore, and not alcohol, but yeah.”

“Wait, Spence, why didn’t you tell me? I-I’m not mad, it’s your choice, obviously, but I could have helped.”

“You did.”

“I did?”

“Remember that one time I was too sick to talk on our Saturday call?”

“Yeah?”

“I had just gotten back from a case in New Orleans. Remember Ethan from school?”

You nodded, holding onto every word.

“He’s in a jazz band down there now. He talked me into getting help. When you called, I was at the lowest point of withdrawals, shaking so hard I couldn’t sleep, and completely alone. I almost didn’t pick up, but I knew you wouldn’t accept that,” he laughed nervously, “and when I heard your voice…”

He trailed off, finally meeting your eyes.

“When I said I wasn’t feeling well, you said ‘I’m putting Jamie down for the night, wanna hear his bedtime story?’”

You both found yourselves smiling slightly at the memory.

“Not once, during any book I’ve read, had I fallen asleep so easily as I did when you read me The Very Hungry Caterpillar.”

He took a deep breath, almost shuddering, “It was the first time I slept without nightmares since Tobias Hankle.”

You remembered that name. He’d come up in conversations from time to time but you never heard anything about his case. He was always a touchy subject for the team, and now you knew why.

“How long ago was this?”

“Almost three years ago.” He didn’t even have to think about it.

“Spence, you could have told me. You can tell me anything.”

“Anything?” He gulped.

You reached for his hand on the bar and felt it tense under your touch. You’d think after how long you’d known him his touch aversion wouldn’t be an issue with you anymore, but apparently not. Feeling your cheeks heat up, you withdrew your hand as if you burnt your hand on a hot stove and let out an awkward scoff, turning away to look back at your friends, who tried and failed miserably at making it look like they weren’t watching you and Spencer.

“We should…”

“Yeah… w-we should.” Spencer passed you and sat down next to Derek in the booth, leaving you in your usual spot next to Emily with your first of many drinks that night.

3 Hours Later

(Spencer’s POV)

I helped her into my car and buckled her up after she couldn’t find the seatbelt. When I got into the driver’s seat, I glanced at her to see if she was still conscious, only to see her dopey smile directed at me.

“What?” I laughed nervously.

“Nothing,” she slurred, dragging out the ‘ing’ and turning her head towards the window.

“You okay?”

She nodded and leaned her head against the glass as I pulled out of the parking lot. She was quiet for the most part during the drive, so I assumed she was asleep, so imagine my shock when she piped up as soon as I parked in front of her place.

“Can you walk me in?” she asked as if I could say no to her.

“Of course.” I was going to regardless. I helped her out of the car and she stood on wobbly legs. She groaned and looked at her feet.

“Hold this.” She shoved her purse into my arms and placed a hand on my shoulder and hopped up to take off one of her heels, tossing it onto her seat before repeating her actions on her other shoe. She grabbed the pair and marched up the path to her front door. I trailed close behind, just in case she stumbled, which she did.

She fumbled for her key when she suddenly remembered that I had her purse. I dug through the pockets and fished it out, tossing it to her once I got close enough. She instantly giggled as soon as I met her eyes.

“What’s so funny now?”

“Nothing, Spence,” she failed to stifle a smile as she tried to open the door, “You have nothing to worry about.”

I stepped in beside her, “Well you’ve been awfully quiet since we left and now you’re laughing at me!”

“I’m just thinking!”

“That can’t be good,” I joked, prompting her to lightly slap my arm, “Kidding! What are you thinking about?”

“Don’t worry about it!”

“No, now I’m curious!”

“Just something stupid Derek said before you came tonight.”

“Oh jeez, now I have to know.” She climbed up the staircase and down the hallway in front of her bedroom. She twisted the knob and pushed open the door. I stepped in after her and placed her purse down on the dresser. She flopped down on the bed, shuffling under the covers, not even bothering to change out of the clothes she wore to the bar. I grinned down at her. She looked like an angel snuggled up in the sheets.

“Comfy?”

“Very.”

“Good. Call me if you need anything, Y/N,” I started to walk towards the door.

“Did you have a crush on me in high school?”

I paused.

“W-Where’d you get that from?” Nice job, genius, that doesn’t sound guilty at all.

“That’s what Derek said.” She was now sitting up in bed.

Okay, but how did he know that?

“How did this come up exactly?”

She explained how the team was trying to get her to tell them embarrassing stories about me as a kid (sidenote: not cool, guys) and my dear old friend Kyle came up. She said that Morgan brought up transference, where a person experiences something traumatic and associates their “hero” with safety and feelings of relief after being helped.

“He said one girl you helped in a case had feelings for you and the way you explained transference to Derek sounded like you were speaking from experience.”

Great. This is what I get for only having friends on the team. My best guy friend is also a profiler who can read me like a book. Awesome.

I let out a deep sigh and sat down in the chair next to her bed, “I was.”

“Speaking from experience?”

“Yeah. Because that’s where it all started for me. A pretty girl told off one of my bullies and showed me basic human decency--”

“Aw, Spence, you thought I was pretty?” She teased, eliciting a chuckle from me.

“Of course I did. Y/N, you were the head cheerleader that came to me for help with chemistry and tousled my hair and bought me McDonald’s whenever our study sessions ran late. To twelve-year-old Spencer you were this perfect, unattainable princess--”

“Princess?” She giggled and it was the most beautiful sound I’d ever heard, “I like that.”

“Yep.” I laughed with her, “A princess who lived in a beautiful castle with posters on the walls and sparkly beads on the curtains and Doctor Who playing on the TV and a mom that always invited me to stay for dinner and I’m rambling again but that’s perfectly fine with you because you actually cared about what I had to say, especially when I would talk about Shakespeare because A Midsummer Night’s Dream was your favorite assigned reading and--” I stopped myself before it slipped out.

I love you. I’ve said it a million times to her in a million different ways but I knew at that moment that if I said the actual words that I wouldn’t be able to take them back, not that I would ever want to, I just want her to be present when I told her the first time. If I said it now it would be the first time she’d hear it from me and she wouldn’t even remember it when she woke up.

“And what?” She still smiled at me so brightly that the dimly lit room was lit up by the gleam in her eyes.

I smiled back, “You’re my best friend.”

Her grin somehow grew wider, her eyes scrunching up, but the sparkle was still there, “You’re my best friend too.”

If I hadn’t already decided against it, I would have said it then. I would have repeated those words over and over again until the words lost all meaning, only they never would because they felt like they meant the world to me. But I wouldn’t let myself start. Instead, I just looked at her like she was the moon and stars and all the space in between and said, “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Spence, wait,” she murmured, further burying herself in her covers.

“What now?” I whined, the smile still present on my face.

“I think you’re pretty too.”

It had never been harder for me to resist the urge to kiss her than in that moment. Every fiber of my being screamed to sit back down, lean over her pillow, take her face in my hands, and crash my lips to hers. And for a split second, I thought I would. I almost did. I almost gave myself everything I had ever wanted for sixteen years, four months, and eleven days, but I couldn’t.

“And I think you’re drunk.”

“Spencer Reid!” She squealed, “Just cuz I’m drunk does not mean that you aren’t pretty!”

“Oh really?”

“Yep! ‘Cuz guess what, genius?”

“What?”

“I think you’re pretty when I’m sober, too.”

If I didn’t know any better I’d say she was trying to drive me insane. And you know what?

It was working.

While I was lost in my thoughts, no doubt staring at her, she let out a tiny yawn and snuggled deeper into her pillow. A piece of hair fell in front of her eyes, hooded yet still shining. I brushed the hair out of her face and told her to get some rest.

“Good idea. I’m sleepy,” she dragged out the e and yawned again, “Goodnight, Pretty Boy.”

“Goodnight, princess.” I chuckled softly. My fingers still lingered just behind her ear, so I stroked her hair once more and pressed a small kiss to her forehead once I was sure she was asleep. Her cheeks twitched in a barely conscious smile, making me grateful for my eidetic memory again. I went to the kitchen and took a glass from the cabinet, filling it up in the sink and placing it on the nightstand with some aspirin.

I took a sheet of some stationery and scrawled out a note for her in the morning:

Make sure you stay hydrated. There’s more aspirin in your cabinet but wait a few hours to take it. Call me if you need anything. -S.R.

The Next Morning

(Reader’s POV)

The coffee machine made too much noise. Your head was pounding despite the fact you took an aspirin a few minutes ago. Now you played the waiting game, hoping it would kick in soon. When the pot was finally done, you poured yourself a cup, hoping it would help wake you up. You normally wouldn’t drink coffee this late, but you needed it. Just as you took your first sip, your mom came through the front door with Jamie in tow carrying his pajamas in a shopping bag. He said good morning to you and ran upstairs to his room.

“Did you just wake up?”

“Yes.”

“Y/N, it’s almost noon.” You could hear the judgment in her voice.

You took a sip of coffee, “It’s 11:05.”

“I take it you had fun at O’Keefe’s last night?”

“Yeah,” you grumbled, rubbing your eyes.

“How’d you get home?”

“Spence drove me.”

Her eyes widened, excited. She lowered her voice to ask, “Is he still here?”

“Mom!” You whisper-yelled.

“I was just checking!”

“No, he’s not, he dropped me off and went home.” You decided to leave out the whole “putting you to bed” part.

“How’s your hangover?”

“Better with aspirin.”

“Have you been drinking water?”

“A little,” you lied.

“No more coffee until you finish a glass.” She took your mug and dumped its contents down the drain.

“Wh—” You start, “Mom, I’m not a kid.”

“Just drink your damn water.”

“Jesus,” you groan, still making your way to the stairs and heading up to your room, where your water had been put on your nightstand the night before. Under the glass was a note that you didn’t notice when you first woke up. You recognized the chicken scratch handwriting immediately: Spencer.

“Make sure you stay hydrated. There’s more aspirin in your cabinet but wait a few hours to take it. Call me if you need anything. -S.R.”

You smiled as you read the words over and over. You put the note down and took a sip from the glass. You reached over to your phone on the nightstand and dialed his number. It rang twice before Spencer’s voice crackled over the speaker, “Hey, how’re you feeling?”

“Better, thank you.”

“Of course. Did you drink the water I gave you last night?”

“Some of it.”

“Good, did you eat?”

“No.”

“I’m going on my lunch break in a bit, wanna meet up?”

Your heart fluttered at the offer, a small grin tugging at your lips. You nodded, unable to find words enthusiastic enough to express how much you’d like that, before settling on “Yeah! Sounds good!”

“Perfect! There’s a new thai place downtown I’ve been meaning to check out, how about there?”

“Sure! I’ll meet you at Quantico?”

“See you then!”

“Bye,” you all but sighed into the receiver before snapping out of it. You always tried to keep that part of you beneath the surface, but it wasn’t as easy as it used to be. You didn’t remember much from last night, but you did remember calling him pretty boy and making him blush. You remember him tucking you in and calling you princess and brushing your hair out of your eyes. You remembered how your chest swelled with light as he pressed his lips to your forehead, and the soft chuckle he let out seeing you smile against your pillow.

You hopped in the shower and got dressed, fixing yourself just enough to pass for a functioning adult who did not get sloppy drunk in front of her best friend’s coworkers last night. You told your mom you were going out for lunch, and she happily agreed to babysit for a few hours while you were with Spencer.

“Have fun on your date!”

“Not a date!” You almost couldn’t tell who you were talking to, her or you.

You got to Quantico about a half-hour later and were met by Dave in the bullpen.

“Oh, look who’s joined the land of the living!”

“Oh, come on, I wasn’t that bad last night. I could have been Penelope.”

“That is true, bella, but it was still a Thursday,” Dave chuckled, “The kid’s in Aaron’s office, he’ll be out in a sec.”

“Thank you,” you said and walked over to Spencer’s desk, sitting down in his chair and making small talk with Emily while you waited. A few minutes later, you saw him walk out of the office, eyes immediately landing on you.

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sabraeal · 3 years

Text

Get Up Eight, Chapter 7

[Read on AO3]

Obiyuki AU Bingo 2021 Free Space

The air is sweet outside of Hiratsuka; the ocean’s salt still carries its pale sting on the breeze, but it cannot compete with the last of the spring’s harvest. The paddies are flooded still, slowly draining under the heat of the sun; wet earth weighs down the air’s sweetness, rich and full. This far into the season it is gold and green as far as the eye can see, set over a shimmering stretch of blue; a precious comb laid on silk. But this, this is finer than any gift an emperor could give his concubines. Ryo might buy jade and sapphires, but it could not buy a moment in time, experienced with all the senses of the body.

The threshing would come soon, as the end came for all beautiful things. The fields will be allowed to dry, and in weeks, this ground would lie fallow, a barren marshy plain awaiting its next use. But impermanence is a part of beauty, what made a sight such as this so precious and so dear. Just as petals fell from cherry trees, or snow sifted from the winter sky, this moment only existed in the here and now. In mere days, all of this would be gone.

Even Obi slows ahead of her, hands resting on the tight nip of his hips. Stalks spring thickly up beside the road, paddies dug so close the cobbles have sunk, curving the edges of the walkway like a scroll unfurled. He stands in the middle of it, a samurai out of a wood-block print, surveying his domain--

“Well,” he huffs, turning his chin over his shoulder. “It sure smells like shit.”

Shirayuki tries to stifle it, to keep the noise buried deep in her chest, but it’s impossible-- a laugh hiccups up between her lips, and try as she might, her sleeve doesn’t muffle it a single bit.

“What, ojou-san?” His mouth quirks at a corner, too sly for innocence. “Don’t you think so?”

Now that he mentions it...yes. That sweet earthy smell mixed with standing water gives off a fragrance that only a fly could love. The rice may be sweet on the wind and salt may still roll through with a breeze, but when the skies were quiet and her feet were still, it savored of nothing so strongly as the pies oxen dropped on the road.

Not that she’d ever give her samurai the satisfaction of agreeing.

“Surely it isn’t so bad as all that.” She takes in a large, pointed breath, and prays she won’t cough. “I only smell sweet grass.”

Both narrow brows scurry up his forehead, rumpling his scar. “Is that so, ojou-san?”

With a sharp smile he swaggers over to one of the sparse pines clinging onto the road, dropping down into a squat. “Then you won’t mind if we take our rest here?”

“W-what?” There’s barely any room for the cobbles, and none at all for two travelers trying to stay off them. And the smell...

“Come on.” He pats the muddy ground beside him; it splats beneath his palm. “This water looks healing if I do say so myself. Perfect to rest your poor feet in.”

Shirayuki casts a dubious glance over the road’s edge, knowing full well what she will find. These paddies are not freshly filled, water sparkling blue under the fair sky like in the ukiyo-e; oh no, this is a field left to drain, the water growing murkier with every day, probably rife with leeches and worse. Fine for plants, but for her poor, weeping blisters--

Well, she’d certainly collect quite a few friends putting her feet in there. They would be such a comfort before she succumbed to whatever infection stagnant water gave her. He blisters throb at the thought.

“We should keep going,” she informs him steadily. “Weren’t you just saying there was much road left to be traveled?”

At least, that had been his excuse in Hiratsuka. No time for dallying, ojou-san, he’d told her, slipping a vendor a few mon for the onigiri in her hands. We’ll have to sleep on the road if the light fades before we get to Odawara.

Obi doesn’t exactly frown; such an expression isn’t in his nature-- instead his mouth pulls to the precise width of the line she’s toeing.

“Well,” he hums his dangerous way, the sort that says only her twelve ryo stand between his hand and her cheek. His body unfurls to standing with an exaggerated slowness, a threat in every curl of his limbs. “Since ojou-san doesn’t need a break, I suppose we can walk all the way to Oiso.”

Her ronin stands across from her, kimono threadbare, hakama in hardly better shape, arms folded across his narrow chest. She knows that cock to his hip, that hint of a smirk on his face-- he expects her to fold, he expects her to beg like the delicate ojou-san she’s pretending to be.

Even wrapped tight under her tabi, the warabi loosely tied, her feet ache. Kino’s wife would plead to stop-- no, command him to. Either way, she would merely confirm what he already knew; she was a pampered fine lady, unable to keep up with the grueling pace he set. A burden he would be made to bear all the way to Kyoto.

Shirayuki shifts the sack on her back, Buddha’s hand pressing into her spine. “Fine. Let us keep going.”

Marsh bleeds into hills, the road flattening and slanting both, reeds rising up into pines. The shade is a welcome reprieve, as is the sea breeze that stirs the branches overhead and sends shadows to dance at her feet. Even as nature’s wonder presses in around her, Shirayuki cannot help but think she might be able to enjoy it better if her feet were not about to pop off at the ankle.

Oiso is hardly an hour’s walk from Hiratsuka, but every step is on needles, stabbing wherever her sole touches cobble. Still, still-- she will not relent. Surely they would see the post for the shukuba at any moment, and then she might--

“Ojou-san?” A shadow falls over her; even if she could not see the patched hem of his hakama, the scent of his sweat, clean and earthy, would give him away. His hands hover at her shoulders, steadying without touch. “Are you all right?”

“Ah!” She steps back, covering a wince with a smile. “No, no. I’m just fine. I can keep up! Oiso is only a few miles away, isn’t it?”

“It is.” He shifts back, arms folding into a forbidding bar of steel across her vision. “Do your feet hurt, ojou-san?”

His tone might be playful, a little sing-song like a child at play, but it is a knowing gaze that he wears, fixed to the hem of her kimono. She shuffles her feet, hoping they fall into shadow-- if only she had bought new tabi in Hiratsuka, she would have had a few more hours before the blood stained the new cloth.

His breath hisses through his teeth like a palpable hit. “Ojou-san!”

Ah, so he’s seen it. That will make this conversation a hair more difficult.

“Don’t worry about me!” she yelps, sweeping away from the hands that would grab her, that would hold her in place to behold the extent of her foolishness. “It can wait until we get to Oiso-juku!”

He shakes his head, sitting back on his heels. “We’ll rest.”

Her cheeks puff out with annoyance. “Aren’t I the one who makes those decisions, samurai-dono?”

His mouth pulls thin for a moment, considering her, but the next has it bent in a bright smile. “All right then. Let’s rest. We can have some of those onigiri in your pack.”

Shirayuki longs to protest-- she did not make her way trading on feminine weakness in Yokohama, and she was not about to start here and now because this man would let her-- but her stomach growls long and loud, a beggar on its knees.

“Well,” she murmurs, looking away from that smug grin. “If you insist.”

“You know.” Obi’s fingers pluck nimbly at the twine knotted around the bamboo leaf, slipping it open with a firm tug on one end. Inside, the rice still steams, just cool enough to touch. “If you had said something, we could have stopped at Hiratsuka.”

Shirayuki looks up, her legs stretched out before her, wiggling her toes with a grimace. She spares him a raised brow, managing only a strained, “Could we have?”

His mouth opens, then closes again. Gold eyes shine almost green in the shade of the pine trees, but they drop away before she can determine whether it is merely a trick of the light. “Maybe.”

Her lips press tight as she watches him, long fingers separating one sticky triangle off from the others. “You’re worried. Did something happen...?”

At the hatago, Shirayuki assumes, but caution stills her tongue. The days she has spent with him have been long, but still-- she’s known him for only three. What trouble dogs his steps now may have been bought and paid for long before she knelt across from him in a tea house and offered twelve ryo to take her away from her own.

“Should I rewrap them?”

Her head jolts up; the amber of his eyes waits to trap her, honey-warm with curiosity. He presses the still-warm onigiri into her palm, and she-- she nearly says no. She may be smaller than him, but she’s not a child. A single rice ball would not a meal make.

But then he chucks his chin downward, toward where her feet sit bare save for the bandages.

“Oh,” she breathes, flexing them. Even that small movement sends pain lancing up her legs. “No, not yet.”

He shifts, mouth rumpled into a dubious knot. “It’s soaked through in places.”

“It’s fine.” Sour plum bursts on her tongue, rice sticking to her teeth as she tries to hurry it along. “It will take too much time to tend to now.”

If anything, his frown deepens. “I can work quick, ojou-san. You said last night that I’d done a good job.”

“I...” A frisson ran through her when he’d cupped her heel in his palm, fingers brushing over her blisters with a gentleness she had not expected from a man as rough as him. And when his hand had slid higher, gripping her calf to hold her in place-- “It can wait. Until we stop.”

Until she is sure she won’t need her legs to support her afterward.

He hums, unconvinced, but settles back onto his seat, knees crossed in front of him. If he were born to a greater station, there would be block prints of him like this, desultory and cross-legged, moments away from a war.

“Oiso is close by,” he reminds her, as if she did not tell him the same only minutes ago. “If the pain’s too much, let me know. We can always stop for the night.”

She swallows her bite of onigiri, watching him steadily. “Would you stop on your own?”

He lets out a long, annoyed breath. “No.”

“Then we’ll press on to Odawara.” She offers him a soft smile. “I’ll be fine.”

“It’s not a short walk,” he warns her, impatience creeping into his tone. “If you’re really hurting--”

“I know.” She smiles. “I’ll tell you.”

He leans back on his hands, a laugh rasping out of his throat. “I doubt that. You’d faint before you’d admit you can’t keep up.”

She lets out a huff. She can’t say it’s not true, but all the same, he doesn’t have to say it. “I--”

“Well, well.” A man emerges from the pines, lips stretched to a smile so wide that her own cheeks hurt. “Look at what we have here, boys.”

Shirayuki jumps-- not far, stretched out as she is, but enough to tuck her feet beneath her kimono, hiding the bandages. Obi’s already got his own beneath him, his knuckles bone white where they wrap around his hilt. His gaze fixes on the treeline, steady and gold, the way a tiger might watch from the long grass, and her breath catches. Obi might wear a man’s skin, but in this moment he is more wolf than warrior, a predator in the guise of its prey.

But that man doesn’t see it. He strides into the copse, blades rattling at his side, heedlessly smiling at his death. “No need for that, oni-san.”

Obi’s hilt creaks beneath his grip. “I’m not your brother.”

Her eyes blink wide, searching the strained planes of his face. This man may be a stranger, unwelcome in their company, but to be so unconscionably rude-- well, Shirayuki can hardly countenance it. Not from a man who slid goshujin through his teeth like steel bared from its sheath, a man who wielded manners as a weapon--

A man who knows that his rudeness would mark them more than submission. She’d seen what counted as fighting words when she ran the sake house; not a single bushi worth his blade would let a ronin parry their generous parity.

But still, this one only smiles. Wider now, the sharp edges of his eyeteeth cresting the ridge of his lips.

“Oh, no?” Men shuffle through the trees, the boughs obscuring their gaunt faces, but still, Shirayuki is sure-- they don’t smile like this samurai. No, ronin. He might have the paired blades wrapped at his hips, but there’s no crest on his haori, only a single long tail winding over his shoulders from the hair at his nape, instead of a bushi’s top-knot. “But we shared a drink back at the hatago, didn’t we?”

Shirayuki takes in the worn hem of this ronin’s hakama, the meticulously mended seams of his haori, the fine material his kimono had once been; none of it is familiar, nor is his face. “Obi-dono?”

Something twitches in the depths of Obi’s jaw. A flicker of recognition, perhaps, to pair with the fleet warning that lopes across his eyes.

“Having a rest, I see?” the ronin observes, edging ever closer to the clearing, his men jostling around him. Three of them, plus the headman; more than any man could manage, no matter how skilled Obi might be. “Now, we were just thinking the same thing, weren’t we?”

Tension thickens the air, and there’s no reason for it, none at all. Not unless her yojimbo is restless, eager to prove to her his prowess. It’s an exhibition that she is less than enthused to participate in, especially with these odds.

“Please.” There is no sake house for her to serve, but her old role drops over her like a mask, mouth stretching into that close-lipped smile, hiding in behind her sleeve. “Come in. I mean--” Obi stares at her, chin slowly shaking, a silent plea-- “please, come sit.”

It’s his stare-- pupils pinprick small with shock, white a thin ring all around the gold-- that reminds her that she’s still looking up. Her eyes drop, fixing to the stranger’s hands, where no dirt lingers beneath his nails, each one diligently picked and scrubbed to cleanliness. But no-- it must drop farther still, down to rest demurely on her knees. Already she's done too much, said too much; a hostess speaks to custom with ease, but a retiring ojou-san in the company of her retainer...

She would be silent. A woman ready to fade into the background as the men carried on her business.

Shirayuki shifts, rolling up to rest on her knees, head bowed. Not three days on the road, and already the role she has chosen for herself chafes.

“Well, since onee-san has been so kind.” The man saunters from the shade, crouching down to a kneel. “It would be rude to refuse.”

Obi’s jaw works, a rebuttal brewing on his lips, but she holds out a hand instead, quelling. Her palm brushes over his knee, the muscles hovering beneath her fingertips going tense, his breath caught in his chest--

And she jolts it away, letting it hover safely over him instead. Still, he lowers onto his feet, placing the blade at his side. The right side, she notes with satisfaction, until he rolls back, legs crossing at the ankle before him, hands braced on his knees. A shogun’s stance, she had thought when Kino took it, but Obi in his threadbare kimono, juban long since lost, and faded hakama...

He makes it look like trouble.

Shirayuki swallows a grimace, bowing her head over her hands. “You are too kind, oni-san--” Obi grunts, displeasure stark on his sharp face, but at least leaves his protest to that-- “please, partake in our meal as well. We have only just started.”

Obi swivels toward her, betrayal writ clear in his eyes, but there’s nothing for it. She’s already asked the headman to sit; she can’t possibly ask him to starve. Not unless Obi would like to risk these men finding them on another stretch of road, far from any shukuba, the night much closer, their minds less wary.

The ronin casts a lingering glance at the onigiri still on the leaf, his tongue tracing the barest path over his lips--

“It is you who are too kind, onee-san, by offering,” he says, the picture of well-born courtesy. “We’d be happy to. As long as you don’t mind sharing our food as well?”

Obi blinks. “Your food?”

The headman holds up a hand, and at once his ronin come forward, dropping their sacks in front of them, and--

“Oh,” Shirayuki breathes, staring at the array of bento tumbled across their makeshift camp. Thinking of what they might well find inside them, her stomach shivers, just short of making its anticipation known. “Well, if you insist...”

As each lid springs open on the men’s hakubento, a feast spills forth: rolled egg and minced fish cakes, soy bears and boiled lotus, taro and shiitake. One has whole, simmered shrimp with pickled ginger, and the water in her mouth nearly leaks out at the sight of it.

“So much,” Shirayuki murmurs, palms pressed flat to her thighs. “Where did you get it all?”

“The hatago.” The ronin’s mouth lifts at a corner, gaze darting to where Obi sits beside her, stiff. “I’m surprised your man didn’t have them pack one for you.”

She resists looking at him, just waits until he’s finished his sticky bite of onigiri to say, “We were in a hurry.”

The ronin’s reply is a sly flash of teeth. “Hope you made it where you were going.”

Obi settles back onto his heels. “Not fast enough.”

It’s an answer made to be muttered, but Obi enunciates every syllable clearly, punctuating it with an insolent lift of his gaze, meeting the man’s with a pointed finality. It’s her first instinct to scold him, the way she might with Kino-san when he acted out of turn, but her breath catches in her chest.

She would do that. Her, a girl raised beneath the bar of a sake house, used to putting men in their place before they reached too far out of it. But a young ojou-san, naive to the ways of the world-- she would sit silent, letting the men speak their piece. If a fight broke out, she might scream, covering her fear with her sleeves, and hope for the best. Ah, never has she been so ill-suited for a role before.

It doesn’t matter in the end; the ronin only twitches his mouth to mark it before turning to her, smile firmly seated on his lips.

“I’m the headman of this outfit.” The man pats his chest, drawing her attention back to the fine material worn thin, to the juban that is still meticulously white when it has not yellowed at the collar. “They call me Mihaya.”

No family name, she notes. That’s fine enough for her. “And I’m Shirayuki.”

She casts a pointed glance toward Obi, willing him to show one glimmer of the respect he pays every other creature that’s made their acquaintance, but he makes no move to introduce himself. Instead he only reaches forward, past all the fine foods Mihaya’s men have provided, and picks up the last of their onigiri.

“Are you going to have this, ojou-san?” he asks, so mild. “Or should I?”

She draws in a deep, steadying breath. “Go ahead. I’ll be fine with sharing with the others.”

His lip juts at that, sullen, but it disappears behind a sharp smile. “Well then, more for me.”

Her only solace in his rudeness is that at least Mihaya’s companions return with the same, too busy stuffing their mouths to pay attention to propriety. Even with such fine bento as these, they dig into each box like men who haven’t eaten in days instead of mere hours ago.

“You must be from around here.”

Shirayuki startles, attention whipping back toward where the headman sits smiling, one hand brace on his knee. “Since you’re traveling south, I mean. Unless you’re traveling back home, onee-san?”

“Oh, no. I’m from--” Obi’s warning glance stills her too-honest response-- “not so far away.”

“Thought so.” There’s a conspiratorial sparkle in his eye as he leans toward her. “I don’t see many of your kind on the road, at least not without an entourage.”

“Oh.” Her fingers clench in her kimono, keeping her seated. She should have thought of that; a girl from a family with money to spare would have sent her with a handful of men, carrying her from Edo to Kyoto slung like precious cargo between them. “I thought-- I mean, my grandfather thought traveling with one guard would draw less attention than a dozen.”

“Might keep more eyes off you, sure,” Mihaya agrees, crunching on a slice of taro. “But it’s safer to have more men when the roads get...rough. You get set on by bandits, and one sword won’t do you much good, onee-san.”

“Is that so?” she asks mildly. “I thought-- what is the saying? Having a single, well-made blade is better than a thousand that will break on the first strike.”

Obi coughs.

“True enough, onee-san.” The headman’s smile wears thinner with each word. “And it’s so much harder to find quality nowadays.”

They have only known each other this past hour, but already, Shirayuki finds little quarrel with Mihaya or his manners; at least, not as much as she does with Obi and his, but still--

Still, she mislikes the smug glance he cuts toward Obi, his gaze raking up his worn and well-mended clothes, the lack of his juban, and clearly, clearly-- finding him wanting.

“For some.” There’s a bite to her voice that surprises her, but she likes it. “I am fortunate indeed to have found such an exemplary bushi as Obi. I could hardly wish for better.”

Mihaya’s expression crumples like a paper lantern in the rain. “I’m sure--”

“Where are you from, Mihaya-san?” she interjects; the last thing they need is to have this rest spoiled by this odd hostility between headman and yojimbo. Especially if it might force her to admit she’s only had her exemplary guard for all of two days. “You don’t sound like a man from Edo.”

A dark shadow flits over his face, like a cloud passing over the sun, gone before she’s ever truly seen it. “Here and there.”

The west, his accent says, though it’s too crisp to be from any common man. Just like his clothes, his voice betrays him. Still, there’s no reason to push; plenty of men have left their domains these days. With tension between the shogun and emperor--

Well, Shirayuki wouldn’t want to be a man with a blade in hand. Samurai had once lived and died by the sword before the shogun wrenched the domains beneath him and brought an end to the warring states. But with all the silken pillows being pulled from beneath the tender seats of the daimyo, blades rattle in their sheaths, threatening its return.

“Where are you off to, onee-san?” Mihaya’s smile is brittle as he sits back, eyes casting her a hooded, measuring glance. “Not all the way to Kyoto I hope.”

Obi shifts, restless beside her. Her fingers sweep out subtly between them, thumb and small finger spanning the gap. It stills him, but not his grunt, wary and dissatisfied. Too cautious, her yojimbo. To avoid so obvious a question only means she has something to hide.

And she does, she does, but none of these men need to know it. Let them think her a loose-lipped ojou-san, if they wished. Better than a girl with no family and a dozen ryo in her bag, with only one guard to keep her safe. “I am.”

Mihaya whistles, long and low, impressed. “That’s a long journey for an ojou-san like yourself. What’s so important in Kyoto?”

“Ah...” A cousin, she should say. That’s what she told Obi, after all, and one story was easier to keep track of than a dozen. But still, there’s something in the headman’s eyes that demands more, than makes a cousin seem a pale prize to crawl across a country for.

“A husband,” Obi offers, so easy. “Arranged. You know how these things are. Ryo flows through fingers easy enough, but blood binds. Man’s eager to have her too.”

“A girl as pretty as this one?” Mihaya laughs, giving her a demonstrative glance. “I can believe it.”

“How about you, Mihaya-san?” she asks, if only to keep from more speculation. “Where are you and your men heading?”

“Funny you should ask, onee-san.” His mouth twitches, almost triumphant. “Kyoto. Just like you are.”

#obiyukibingo21 #obiyuki #akagami no shirayukihime #snow white with the red hair #freespace #Get Up Eight #samurai AU #edo AU #my fic #ans #I think this is the first time since Seven Suitors where I have posted a fic on my birthday #actually did I post the second chap on time?? i no longer remember #this might in fact be the first time #there are moments in this fic I am DYING to get to #but the idea of doing this Mihaya plotline was too exciting #i mean who could say no to an onsen episode...not me #and so now we are getting this mihaya mini-arc #before some of the other plot-centric parts >:3c

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donaidk · 3 years

Text

Eyes Off You - Mick Schumacher

*Repost as I wanted it in a separate post rather than an ask, to make my blog organized. Hope you guys don’t mind :)*

I have changed things up a little but I hope you will still enjoy this! I loved writing it and tried to use everything you mentioned. Thank you for requesting and also reading!

TW: Body image issues (mild)

Note to Anon: Please never ever think like you’re not worth it just because you’re ‘out of someone’s league’! I wasted years of my life hating myself and feeling like crap just because people made me think I wasn’t worth anything. You’re unique and they’re just blind to see it. Rock on and show them that they’re the ones who are not worth your worrying, anxitey and thoughts! Love you! ❤️

Masterlist | Request

Links - Inspiration song | Dress (in deep red) | Jewelry

When Mick asked me to dress up and meet him in the park close to our house, I can’t lie that it wasn’t a bit confusing. I didn’t remember the date to be anything special really, and I couldn’t get myself to remember if we had anything planned for the day previously. He just got back home for their usual longer summer break between race weekends, which we usually spent laying around in bed for a few days before we felt energized enough to spend time outside the confinement of our home. But now he was up on his feet already on the first day, making us take a walk around the city and as it turns out he had plans for the following days as well. I couldn’t lie, it made me excited but at the same time so confused, about where all of this energy was coming from. Normally I waited with my vacation time off work for him, and only took out days when it was sure that he was going to be free. This meant I was quite busy with work during the remaining days of the year, making me tired and grumpy for the first days I had off in between. It was lucky that on most occasions we had at least a week together, which meant I could lay around lazy for a few days before we would get on with our planned activities. He did surprise me by not letting me just waste a day or two.

My mind started running at the speed of light when I found the little note on our bed, telling me to dress up pretty because he would take me out as soon as he’s gonna be back from his family’s place. I always loved surprises, even more the ones he planned out for us, but knowing we had to go out or it stepped onto a territory that made my anxiety skyrocket. I was never the social type, as I felt content with the group of friends I had since our high-school years. I knew I could trust them and never really tried to meet other people, be it a party or any kind of set up where you had to communicate with strangers. That’s probably why I never really accompanied him to any ceremonies or team parties when I had the chance. It was clear to me that I would just be an anxious mess, and I really didn’t need his friends and colleagues to realise how much Mick and I didn’t match. It was enough when my own brain stood against me and tried to persuade me into believing what we had would never truly work out in the long run. In moments like that I couldn’t even make out how we went from meeting at the beach in Hawaii to today.

° ° °

I didn’t really know how my friends got me to go with them to Hawaii as a summer vacation, and having been here with them for the past half a week I have felt a bit of regret. What was strange that I did enjoy myself and all the plans we had, even if every night I felt like I would rather be home and just relax in my own bedroom, maybe going out with my family for walks or meals at max. That was enough for my social side usually for a whole year. Having people around me 24/7, that tried interacting with me all the time was exhausting. The only thing that made this holiday bearable was that they knew all of this and gave me space when they saw I would need it, but pushed me to take part in the original plan when I was just making up excuses.

Our usual plans consisted of sleeping, eating, going to the beach, taking walks and repeating all four of those activities until our holiday would end. It was usually the beach that I missed out on when I needed a bit of time for myself, but still made sure I spent more time with them than I did alone in our rented house. It would have been a waste of time and money if I didn’t challenge myself a little bit, to be more outgoing. I still wasn’t adventurous enough to for example be in front of them in only a bikini or bathing suit, but I luckily never felt overdressed with my shorts and sleeveless shirts while playing some kind of sports in the sand. Thanks to the boys in our group it was usually football as there were some goals set up in the shade, but we sometimes could get them to play some volleyball too. I probably looked out of place next to all of them wearing their bathing suits or pants and then there I was in full clothing. The only way I could distract myself by only paying attention to the games we played trying to win for our team.

It was maybe our fifth day when we started to see another group of people around our age attending the beach every day. We spent a day just passing each other before one of them challenged us for a volleyball ‘tournament’ and then the next day a football one. It turned into a daily activity and even I was surprised how much I enjoyed it, both the games we played and the conversations we had. They seemed really cool and with several of them I felt like we would be quite good friends outside this holiday. One of them stood out to me even more than the other few guys, by the name of Mick. The girls of course saw it from the outside and I was teased for until the last day when I got myself together and in the end swapped phone numbers with him.

I still didn’t think too much into it, knowing we will probably just forget about even meeting each other. I can still remember how surprised I was when just days after getting back to my usual home routine he texted me, announcing that he’s gonna be in my hometown soon and that he would live to meet up with me. And he didn’t disappoint, going for lunch and a walk around the city with me in just a few weeks time. I can still feel how fast my heart was beating when he revealed to me why he was here and how I felt like a complete fool for thinking he was just a normal kid. I couldn’t have been farther off the truth. That was the first day when I could laugh at my own stupidity whole heartedly, as I couldn’t hold back my embarrassed chuckling at hearing him laugh. If someone told me I’ll get the chance to listen to his laugh almost every day in our future, I would have called them crazy for sure.

° ° °

Putting the little note aside onto the bedside table as I sat down on the mattress, laying back still trying to figure out what he could have planned for us. I was just turning a bit to get my head on my pillow, with my hand sliding under it as I usually liked to sleep when my fingers met with something there that felt like paper. Pulling it out my eyes met with another now purple colored post-it, with his handwriting on it, saying ’It’s gonna be just the two of us, don’t stress about it’ and a little kissy face making me chuckle. He knew me too well and this note showed that he really did think about any possibility so he wouldn’t have to be home to get me out of the house. With a sigh I pushed myself off the bed so I could open up the wardrobe and in a way I knew there would be a twist even before I could see inside. Next to all my usual dresses and blouses hanging under the shelves was another black hanger with a white protector fabric encasing the dress it was probably holding up. The note on it was a simple winky face and I took it out with my head shaking at his antics and how I should have known he would get me something to wear.

I laid it onto our bed, opening up the protector’s zipper and my smile grew wider as my eyes caught the deep red colour of the silk that was hiding under it. Seconds later I was already lifting up the hanger, the dress itself following it flowing through the air with such an ease it made you think it was probably made from it with how light it was. When I turned it around my mind was just about to go into panic mode again at how open the backside was, but the note I discovered stuck to it made me take a deep breath and calm down instantly. ’Remember Hockenheim in 2018?’ I read the words slowly and couldn’t help but smile at the memory it brought up in my mind.

° ° °

When Mick invited me to the Hockenheim GP, the last three races of their season, everyone knew it would be a weekend for celebrations as whatever would have happened he was winning the Championship and no one could stop him. His point advantage put him into a position where not even the driver who was in second place could switch him out, even if they won all three races and Mick would miss out on them. Everything seemed relaxed around his part of the team as everyone knew this last weekend was like a celebratory run for them after all the hard work they put into the season.

The first race wasn’t his best ever but then took second place in both the second and third one, securing his title for the season. As soon as he was out of the car it was all about celebrating both his and the team’s performance. I had the widest grin of my life on my face as we watched him step onto the podium receiving his P2 trophy and then later the one for the Driver’s Championship. It took us three times the usual time to get back to the hotel as everyone was taking pictures with him. Even I got one with him, with which I couldn’t hold back from posting about his achievement. It felt like eternity until we were back at the hotel, and the P2 trophy was still in my hand as we entered his room. I was holding it right until he swept me up into a tight hug and I rather placed it onto the coffee table, before I would drop it.

It wasn’t a surprise when after dinner and a couple of drinks we ended up in the bed together with his shirt already off and mine pushed halfway up my torso when I came to my senses. My mind panicked immediately at all the imagined scenarios coming to me, about him leaving after seeing how I actually look. I was always insecure about my whole body, but mainly my back as my skin there was always full of spots and scarring. The thought of him seeing it freaked me out, don’t even start me on thinking about him touching it. Coming back from my thoughts I took in a shaky but deep breath making him glance at me, pushing himself up a little. I just tried kissing him, to get him to continue but there was worry in his eyes and even though he quickly pecked my lips once again he wasn’t getting back to his previous actions.

“ I’m not going any further until you tell me what got you so out of it. ” He stated, still looking me in the eyes and making me gulp. “ What’s the matter? We don’t have to do anything, there’s no musts here. Just tell me what’s wrong, please. ” He asked again, making me just shake my head as I didn’t trust my voice. I felt like his eyes were boring into me so deep he could see my soul.

“ It’s stupid… but I’m just not… not perfect in any way? ” I finally spoke up, making him furrow his brows in confusion as one of his hands came up to my face to get my hair off my cheek. I knew he was trying to get more info out of me.

“ What isn’t perfect? ” He asked like I just told him something stupid, that doesn’t even exist. I debated telling him or just making a run for it and maybe never talking to him again as anxiety made my throat close up for a second.

“ Everything? Mostly my back. ” I answered him in the end, my next blink lasting longer than usual as I needed a second to compose myself. “ It’s just bumpy and gross. ” I added, not really knowing where my sudden courage came from. When my eyes opened up he was still looking at me but then pushed himself up a little, my hands falling onto my stomach from his sides.

“ Turn around. ” He said, making my heart miss the next beat and my eyes widen. “ Please.” He added with a sigh, sending me a calming smile and my body moved on it’s own sitting up before I turned my back to him. “ Can we take this off? ” I heard his voice as two of his fingers came under the material of my shirt. I was about to shake my head but then it ended up as a nod. If I trusted someone it was him.

After helping me pull my t-shirt off he let me lay back down and I turned my head to the side as it was back on the pillow. Like this I could also see him, giving me the possibility to stop him he was about to do something I wouldn’t have liked. He first just left a little kiss on my cheek, making me smile contently and almost forgetting what was happening, before he went down my neck and my back with his lips. My breath was stuck in my throat until his face came back to mine and I forced some air into my lungs.

“ There’s nothing wrong with you, your body, your back or your skin. Yeah? Nothing wrong. ” He told me again, laying back down next to, with his arm around my waist, pulling me closer. “ The only thing wrong here is the idiot who made you think you’re any less than perfect. ” He added, kissing me and I felt like I would never be able to separate from him. Lucky I wouldn’t have to for at least the next month.

° ° °

As I took the little slip of paper off my fingers ran over the silky fabric, the delicate little chain catching my sight with the sparkling diamonds following each other for the whole length of it. It was a strange jewelry and took me a second to understand it was deliberately placed at the back and not in the front of it. The image inside my head made me gasp as I imagined how it would look on someone and how it would accentuate their back, the shiny metal catching everyone’s glance. Even though my skin was in it’s best ever state I was still quite conscious about it, and made sure most of the time to wear things that I knew would cover any imperfection of it. I knew that his plan with this was to make sure I finally embraced it, how I should have then even back then.

I fought with myself for a bit but then took the dress off the hanger and laid it down onto the bed. I still had to take a shower and do both my makeup and hair. I stayed with the most minimal amount of makeup, mostly focusing on my eyeliner and mascara with some nude colored lipstick that wasn’t far off the original color of my lips. I didn’t spend lots of time on my hair either, letting it flow freely after going through it with a brush and parting it at the usual place. The last step was getting into the dress and zipping it up on the side. When I felt like I had everything with a last check in the full body mirror I was about to change my mind at my reflection when I noticed one more little note from him. ‘You look perfect, don’t question it. Car waiting for you in front of the building.’ There was the time too, when the car would arrive at ours, which was minutes away and with a last sigh I took a thin blazer from the wardrobe before putting on my heels and leaving the house. I locked the door, making sure I won’t be able to get back inside easily, so I couldn’t change my mind.

I didn’t even have to wait a minute longer for a car to park down in front of the exit and I got in without a question when the driver called out my name. I wasn’t even anxious anymore when he restarted the engine, more like excited. So much I felt like I couldn’t sit through our drive. We were waiting at a red light and from my seat I could see the park, which was Mick’s and my favourite place for morning runs or even picnics, making me reach up to my neck, my fingers immediately wrapping around the little pendant that was hanging there on a delicate gold chain.

I remember seeing him crashing into a tyre wall and waiting for him to finally confirm that he was alright. It was the first time since I started watching the races that I saw him getting so close to being hurt and I wasn’t looking forward to any more of these. He probably knew that I would be a bit upset, worried about his well being after realising how dangerous their job actually was. It was just two days later when we were already home and he gave me a little box. It contained a medium sized pendant, quite similar to his. I knew his was from his family, to bring luck to him and I hoped mine would bring some more luck not even just to me but him too. From the moment I put it on, I never took it off again for longer than an hour.

“ We’re here. ” The driver’s voice made me blink away the memory that came up for me, making me turn my head towards him. “ He’s waiting. ” He added with a smile, pointing towards the entrance of the little park that I knew so well.

I quickly thanked him for getting me here before leaving the vehicle and going towards the open gates. We usually just walked by this place and I always found it astonishing as it looked like a fairy land with the lightning all around the place and the pagodas, where people could just sit down and enjoy a cup of coffee or tea with some desserts. However, now it was empty, and the only thing that I could hear was soft music playing in one of the small buildings. Having no clue about where I should go my only hope was following the sound to one of the more hidden pagodas, that was lit up outside even more than the others. I was getting confused and almost giving up when he finally stood up and I could let out a relieved sigh. There was a huge grin on his face, making me smile too although I felt a little embarrassed even though it was only him standing in front of me. I knew he would never give me a reason to feel bad about myself or what I was wearing.

“ You look stunning. ” He came up to me, pulling me into a hug and leaving a kiss on my lips. “ I’m really happy you stayed with the dress. ” He added, making me smile up at him as I initiated another kiss between us, before I let him lead me into the little building.

“ Thank you. This is fabulous as well. I knew it was beautiful, but never thought it’s this cozy. ” I looked around again, not even paying too much attention to him, completely missing him taking my blazer off my shoulder so he could hang it on the wall next to his one.

“ I've wanted to take you here since we first saw it. It was just never the perfect timing. ” He let out a sigh, his hand coming up to my back and it sent a shiver down my spine as the jewelry’s colder chain got in contact with my skin. I knew he saw and maybe even felt it, but never commented on it, deeming it a normal reaction.

“ It would have made it the perfect timing. ” I shrugged a little, sitting down on the chair he pulled out for me, before sitting down opposite me. “ Other than it being too cold to just sit around, I can’t really think about anything that would make me wanna leave early. ” I looked around again. My eyes followed the fairy lights’ cable running all around us and up a tree next to the pagoda.

Having the place for ourselves made it even more magical than how it would normally feel like. Even though we weren’t served by a waitress he had everything we could need, next to the table. He prepared sandwiches with little fruit salads and also our favourite drink. I’m sure we would be having coffee if we were here in the morning, but I also knew we would never sleep if we got caffeine in our systems now. From the outside it probably looked funny as we ate the sandwiches while wearing clothes that would fit into the poshest restaurants but I wouldn’t have changed one bit about tonight. Everything was part of what when considered a perfect date, even if it wouldn’t mean the same for another couple. Everyone’s taste is different and that’s what made it even better, that I could see how much Mick knew my favourite details. I still couldn’t believe what I did to deserve the life I had now and all the changes Mick brought into it by being next to me whenever I would need him and the support.

I was about to thank him for everything, that he made this happen, when he pulled his phone out and I could see as he opened up his camera started recording a video. Instead of lifting it up to record us, he propped it up on the table in a way that it would take in the space next to our pagoda, before standing up and going to the music player that controlled the whole system around the garden. I followed him with my eyes, curiously waiting to hear the song he would choose. I recognised it just two seconds into the start of it, making me not even think about it when he reached out his hand towards me. It was our song, however cliche that is, that we danced to in Hawaii, at the beach party that we attended on the last day of my holiday. Back then I thought we would never ever meet again in person, thought we would be parting ways forever as I had to leave with my friends. It would have been a perfect last memory for the few weeks we spent there, but it became even more magical when there was a text waiting for me to turn on my phone that turned into us talking on the phone constantly and then meeting again in my home town just a few months later.

Even though neither of us was a good dancer we made it work, swaying left and right to the slow beats of the song with my arms around his neck and his circling my hips and resting on the small of my back. I let my eyes close and my head slowly fall forward until my forehead was resting on his shoulder. I felt as he rested his head on mine for a second before his lips left a kiss on my jaw and then neck, followed by several on the skin of my shoulder.

“ This is perfect. ” I sighed out, and I was sure my mum would tease me about how I was beaming with a smile so wide the Cheshire cat could be jealous. I wasn’t ready for it to end and was glad of his choice when the song restarted, meaning the silence didn’t break the moment.

“ What do you think about making our forever this perfect? ” I felt his breath on my neck from his whispering, and I nodded with a smile, not thinking much of it. It was when he stepped back a little and I could see the little box in his hand when my hand came up to cover my surprised expression. “ I know you never thought a silly holiday with friends would end with something like this, but I’m planning on making that just one of the things that worked out quite well in our life. Will you be my partner in making everything better and marry me? ” He asked, already on one knee and opening up the top of the box, revealing a ring that was shining in the light coming from the lanterns and fairy lights.

The only thing I could remember after that was him standing next to me again, the both of us enveloped in a hug while I could already feel the comforting weight of the ring on my finger. The song was still flowing through the air around us, making me feel like I was part of the imaginary world built up inside my head, that I thought would never be my reality. I couldn’t wrap my mind around all the images and thoughts that were running around my head about our future, but feeling his embrace around my body I knew it would all workout. I already had him and that was everything I needed to live my life happy. Or should I say our life now?

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goldenmazzello · 3 years

Text

Never should have let you go.

Warning: Full of angst, swearing?, and more angst.

Word count: 2.5k

As the door opened, the loudest of noises Joe could hear was silence. The sound of silence wasn't the lack of noise but the lack of your pressence. It was an unnerving silence, a constant companion of his thoughts. His thoughts were destroying him. He tried not to think but the silence was a killer.

His head was spinning on the memories the two of you had. The day you met, the day you kissed for the first time, the day you moved together and of course, the day you left. All the things he took for granted now became moments gone, forever wasted. He had to accept the damaged was done and it was obvious that you could never go back to the way it used to be. At least not now.

Even though that you were gone for weeks, coming home to an empty room was just as hard as the first day. The days feet like years now that he was alone. He felt that another day without you was like a blade cutting right through him. Joe hasn't been the same since you've been gone. Everytime he came back home from work he hoped everything was just a bad dream and that he would wake up and see your face again. He remembered those times in which you waited for him with his favorite supper. Or when you picked him up at the airport. Those little details meant the world to him.

You were always there with a big bright smile, you were like a shining light that made him forget all of his problems. You were there to guide him on his darkest days. You were always there and he took it for granted. And now you were gone.

At night, after a long day at work, Joe lay in bed thinking about you and would burst into tears. The bed was made up on your side, as if you were about to enter the room.

The thing he missed the most was waking up next to you and looking into your eyes, those beautiful eyes he loved and he would give everything he had in the world to see them again. After all these wasted nights he couldn't pretend he was doing fine because that feeling was getting stronger everyday. He just couldn't take it anymore. He wondered if you thought about him when you couldn't fall asleep just like he did. You were always on his mind.

He has played your words back in his head a thousand times. I'm leaving. And there wasn't anything else that he could do. He felt helpless. He had to face the fact that he couldn't walk away from this, but it was hard when every little thing in the world reminded him of you.

Life was far different when you both decided it was time to live together. And things seemed to get better and better. You got a job promotion and as soon as he directed his first movie, Joe had an amazing opportinity that was life changing: another promising movie. But of course for every plus there is a minus, Joe was going to be away from you for a long time since he had to work in London. It was a challenge you had to face.

And that wasn't an easy time. You didn't tell him because you didn't want to worry him while he was working, but you couldn't stop crying. You would come back from work and cry because you missed him so much, but you knew it was going to happen, you knew it from the very beginning. And you were willing to tolerate it, he was the love of your life.

You tried to visit Joe once a month and he tried flying home during vacation. But in one of the most special days, Joe wasn't there. You spent your birthday alone and even though you told him it was okay, it really wasn't. You really wished he was there, but he was away. It was his job and you understood.

When Joe came back after being in London for six months, it felt like time didn't pass. He was back and all yours. You felt on cloud nine. After a few months, Bohemian Rhapsody was released and you were Joe's date for the premiere. And then, press tour began and everything started to feel like a mess. Joe had to fly around the world and wasn't going to spend much time at home.

Award season arrived and he had to fly from New York to Los Angeles, from Los Angeles to London and again, you were alone at home. You wished you could go with him but it was impossible, you weren't famous like him and after all, it was his job, again.

And there wasn’t anything wrong about it, since day one you knew his life was like this and you accepted. The problem was that Joe was absolutely focused on his job and started to care less about you. The small notes with "I love you" or even his messages during breakfast or at night became scarce, almost non-existent. He didn't have time to FaceTime like he did before. He didn't even ask you to pick him up at the airport anymore. Everything was different now.

You could sense your relationship was falling apart but you didn’t want to give up on it. Just because you were in hot water it didn't necessarily mean you needed to throw in the towel, at least not now.

You decided to talk to Joe about this. This was making you feel totally miserable and you really wanted to fix it. After all, communication is the key in every relationship.

At first, he said he was sorry about it and he felt absolutely terrible for hurting you. He promised he was going to change and he said he was going to spend more time with you like before. You were in this together. And you felt relieved, as if you took a great weight off your shoulders. You really loved Joe and you would do everything in the world for him.

As weeks passed by, you felt you were trying to fix your relationship all by yourself. Lack of daily communication with him was something you were getting used to. Movie nights, dinner dates or even intimate moments were all distant memories. There were much less moments of cuddling, sweet kisses, hand holding, and walking arm-in-arm, they all had been replaced by distance. You thought it was maybe a temporary reaction to stress, but it's been going on for some time now. It was getting worse. Even the words "sweetheart,” “honey,” and “love" were gone. And your self-esteem was already affected. You felt heartbroken and hurt every day.

It was time.

It was time to leave.

You had an escape plan in your head for months. Your subconscious was sending you strong messages that it was time to get out. You tried not to think about it but every day you considered putting your plan into action. And the day finally came.

You got up in the morning and started packing your belongings. As you were taking your things out of your wardrobe, you felt a shiver down your spine. It felt odd, but you couldn't take it anymore. It was absolutely painful.

Three hours passed and Joe entered home. He let the door fall to with a thud that made you jump. You gulped and closed your eyes as you heard his steps were becoming closer. When Joe finally set foot in your shared room, his eyes were as big as plates. His face expression changed.

"W-What are you doing?" He was shoocked.

You grabbed your things quickly and got out of the room and he followed you. "I'm leaving, I can't put up with your fucking job anymore." You said as you tried to walk downstairs with your heavy suitcase. You had decided to leave since it was Joe's house and there was no way you would stay.

"Please, I'm begging you." Joe grabbed your hands while crying. Your words cut deeper than a knife.

"Joe, I'm being serious, don't make it even harder." You told him with a broken voice while trying to walk.

"You don't have to leave, th-th-this is your house too." He put himself in your way.

"This is your house, you paid for it with your work. Now please, move." You tried to move him but you couldn't since he was taller and bigger than you. "I'm gonna fall and get hurt, move!" At this point, you were already annoyed.

"No, I'm gonna protect you. You aren't gonna get hurt." He said while resting his hands on your waist.

You rolled your eyes. "Guess what? I'm already hurt and it's because of you! I tried to get things better but it seems you don't want to. I feel we've been living as roomates!" You left out a frustrated sigh. He moved his gaze to the floor.

"I promise I'll do my best this time. Let's go on a road trip." He suggested, trying to smile.

"There is not going to be any road trip or whatever. I'm leaving and there is nothing you can do about it. I feel like we're as close as strangers, you don't care about me anymore!" You screamed those words to Joe.

He didn't say anything but cried. He knew it was his fault. "Please, think about it. Don't take spur-of-the-moment decisions."

"It isn't a spur-of-the-moment decision, I've been thinking about it for months."

You don't know why, but he finally moved and helped you with your suitcase. "Where are you going?" He asked, looking into your eyes.

"It's none of your business." You looked for your coat, took out your keys and opened the door. "Here you have." You gave him the keys and got out of the house.

Joe couldn't stop the tears running down his face. "Sorry, sorry sorry sorry." He covered his eyes with his hands.

It's been a week that you were gone and Joe didn't know what to do. You blocked him from social media and he didn’t have a way of communicating with you.

As he turned on his computer, he noticed you left your e-mail opened. He hesitated but then decided to open it.

You had an e-mail from an airline. Everything indicated you were in London now. "What is she doing in London?" He thought. "What about her job?"

As soon as he read that, he called Rami. He had moved to London with Lucy and maybe knew something about your whereabouts.

Rami told Joe that Lucy visited you in London but she wasn't going to give him your adress because she knew Rami would tell Joe about it. Joe promised not to visit you, he knew you didn't want to see him. After a few days of asking about you, Lucy finally spoke. You were living in an apartment -a flat, as British people call it-. Joe asked her how were you and Lucy said you were completely heartbroken.

"Can you please tell me her adress?" Joe asked her while they were on a FaceTime call. Lucy was drinking a tea and almost choke as she heard his words.

"What?" Lucy asked confused. "Joe, she needs to be own her own, she needs time."

"I know, I'm not flying to London. I wanna send her a letter."

"A letter? Well, maybe I can write it and give it to her." She offered.

"Thank you but...it's private. I'd rather send it to her."

"Promise me you're not going to show up at her apartment or she'll never speak to me again and you'll never hear from her."

"I promise."

You were trying to get used to living in London. It wasn't like New York but you knew that eventually you were going to feel like you were home.

As you opened the door, there was a letter on the floor. You bend over and pick it up. Your heart stopped as you read Joseph Mazzello, New York, United States of America.

"How did he kno...Lucy!"

She must have told him, you were almost sure about it.

You sat on the couch and stared the letter for like 5 minutes, thinking if you should open it or not. You sighed and decided to open it and read it.

“Dear (Y/N)

First of all, don’t be mad at Lucy for giving me your adress, I promised her I won’t show up at your apartment.

Since I don’t have any way of talking with you, I thought writing this letter was a good idea. If you are reading this, I wanna let you know that everything was my fault. I took everything for granted and I wish things would be different now. This time away from you felt like forever, I guess it’s the price I gotta pay for being such a stupid boyfriend.

You have no idea how much I miss you. Every night I think and dream about you. I love you so much honey, I really do. I don’t know why I was so stupid and ruined everything, but I’m really sorry, I mean it. I wish that I could find a way to turn back time because my life hasn’t been the same since you’ve been gone. I can’t stop thinking about you and all the memories we have together. Getting through the night is the hardest thing to do, I miss feeling your body next to mine, I miss your touching and kissing, I miss everything about you. I try to get a grip but I just can’t put my life back into place, I feel so unprotected without you. I can’t stand the pain, I can’t make it go away. It hurts so much. I know I can’t erase the things that I’ve done, but from the buttom of my heart, I want you to give me a second chance. I know I’ve made more mistakes than I can even count and deep inside I know I don’t deserve another chance to make it work, but I’ll try my best, I’ll try for you. I promise this time I won’t make up excuses, I don’t wanna lose you.

If you can give me half a chance I’ll show how much I can fix myself for you. One thing I know for sure, is that I never should have let you go.”

MASTERLIST

#borhap boys #borhap cast #joe mazzello fanfic #joe mazzello imagine #joe mazzello #joe mazzello angst #joe mazzello fic #joe mazzello blurb #joe mazzello headcanon #joe mazzello x reader #goldenmazzello

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anime-and-manga-rants · 3 years

Text

Why I Believe Deku Fails as a Character (Part 3 of 3)

SPOILERS (for My Hero Academia Chapter 306 and 307, Attack On Titan manga spoilers occurring after Season 4 Part 1)

...

Allow me to introduce you to two kinds of character arcs in writing: the positive change arc and the flat arc.

(There are five major kinds of character arcs in total, but I’m going to focus on the two above for right now. The other three are as follows: the fall arc, the disillusionment arc, and the corruption arc. In general, the positive change arc is the most common, so I’ll be sticking to that for the majority of this part. However, I will briefly cover the other three in light of Chapter 306 and 307 and where I believe the manga might be headed.)

First, the positive change arc:

To make this easier (in other words, less time-consuming), let’s just focus on the three phrases under the title.

Character believes lie, overcomes lie, and new truth is liberating.

...

Second, the flat arc:

Again, let’s stick to the three phrases under the title.

Character believes truth, maintains truth, and uses truth to overcome the world’s lie.

...

All right, now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, let’s begin.

Deku follows a flat arc, not a positive change arc, at least up until Chapter 305 (but I will discuss that later). While this isn’t necessarily a bad thing as a concept, because flat arcs can still be quite interesting, his character arc is executed in such a way that makes it boring. To be frank.

The reason why I first introduced you to the positive change arc, if you are not already familiar with it, is because it was most likely what you expected when you first began the watching the anime or reading the manga. It was what I expected, at least. Because it is the most common out of the five in any story you either watch or read, whether it be an anime, a movie, a TV show, a manga, or a novel.

There’s nothing absolutely wrong with subverting expectations as long as it’s done well. That is why so many people love Eren Jaeger after the recent chapters of the manga or after the final season of the anime. Eren absolutely does not follow a positive change or a flat arc. No, you’ll see people claiming that Eren is one of the best anime protagonists in history because he doesn’t follow the popular positive change arc. His development is tragic, but it’s so real, and it’s so compelling to see him go from Point A to Point B.

I, of course, expected Eren to eventually follow a positive change arc, and the fact that he didn’t was great. Isayama handled his character arc so well that the subversion of that expectation only made Eren, as a character, all the more appealing.

Just... the anger, then the resignation, then the resigned determination that’s present even in his character design:

Let me first explain how Deku is going through a flat arc.

Deku’s views of the world of heroes are never challenged by anyone else in the anime or the manga. In fact, they’re only ever confirmed, especially by Stain when he saves Deku from the Nomu because he deems Deku worthy of becoming a hero. We’re only reminded of this later, during the League’s attack on the training camp, when Spinner saves Deku from Magne because Stain acknowledged him.

(And maybe this is okay, because his view is that heroes should want to save everyone with a smile. Heroes should be like All Might, who reassured everyone just by showing up, all because they knew he was powerful enough to save them. And that he would save them without fail. His view of the world, of what a hero should be, is right in most people’s eyes.)

In other words, Deku does not believe a Lie that will eventually become a Truth. No sirree. Instead, he believes a Truth and has maintained it, and we expect he will eventually go on to change the world with it. (Unless that changes, but let’s assume this for now. Besides, even if he does have a character arc now with Chapter 306 and beyond, that doesn’t negate the fact that he hasn’t grown in the first 300 or so chapters.)

So, as of the anime right now, Deku’s following a flat arc. Which would be fine, if his arc was still compelling. You see, flat arcs need something to make them compelling if the character themself isn’t going to change.

For most flat arcs, you’ll see the main character, rather than growing or changing themself, change the world around them. They will uphold their inner truth in a world that doesn’t agree with them, and, eventually, the world will see that the character was right all along. But the world’s opposition at first is what drives the plot, and it is what makes the main character’s journey interesting.

Because it’s conflict. Stories need conflict.

So, automatically, Deku’s flat arc fails this requirement. It’s been proven over and over again that Deku’s outlook is right. Out of all the villains in MHA, Stain is the one whose philosophy we can agree with. Even the characters in the anime/manga agree with him! Horikoshi goes so far as to include Class 1-A commenting about how Stain’s philosophy is actually correct in some ways, and he mentions that Stain has merchandise created for him (in the MHA world) because his beliefs are appealing to the masses.

Essentially, what a flat arc character needs is a Doubt. In other words, the character needs something to make them question whether their Truth is right or not. Maybe this takes the form of doubt in a normal sense, with the character wondering whether or not they chose the correct Truth. Maybe this takes the form of doubt in the sense that they don’t know if they have the strength to carry out their conviction.

There are many ways to execute a Doubt in a flat arc story, and yet Deku doesn’t seem to have one.

I mean, hell, there isn’t even a doubt (ha-ha, see what I did there?) that Deku will become a great hero. From Day One, we’ve already known he’s going to become not only a great hero but the greatest hero:

So we know Deku succeeds in his goal of becoming a hero. This immediately strips away the fear that Deku won’t succeed in his current goal of becoming the next All Might. And while we can’t say for certain, I don’t think it’s farfetched to believe that the ‘greatest hero’ version of Deku believes the same thing as Deku in the second episode, where this line is from. With the word choice of “by the way” coupled with the fact that this line appears when it does, it seems to suggest that Deku’s going to become a hero with the same convictions as he has now. It gives off a childlike tone that parallels what Deku believes in now, as a child, which is the Truth I described up above.

I just can’t name a single time where I’ve doubted that Deku would achieve his goal with the Truth he holds. It’s obvious that he already believes the Truth that the story is trying to push, because it’s the same philosophy of the former Number One Hero and the same philosophy of the only villain who the story tries to justify. And because we know Deku is going to become the ‘greatest hero,’ we know he’s got the strength to become a hero with the Truth he has now. With how overpowered OFA is, we know that as soon as Deku masters it, he’ll be stronger than the rest. We never doubt that.

We can also pretty easily eliminate the idea of a Doubt in the sense that Deku is afraid he’s actually wrong about his ideas. I can’t name a single instance in the anime or manga that would indicate he believes his Truth could be wrong. In fact, as I mentioned earlier, the people around Deku only seem to prove that Deku’s Truth is correct. You would think that Stain, a hero killer, agreeing with Deku might raise some red flags in Deku’s mind, even if only for a brief moment, but we don’t even get that.

I could list more ways that Deku fails to have other kinds of Doubts, but I think you get the point; there isn’t anything in MHA’s plot that makes you doubt Deku’s ability to accomplish his goals with the convictions he currently has and has had since the first episode/chapter.

Basically, Deku’s got no conflict between him and anyone or anything other than an omnipresent and surface-level clash between heroes and villains.

So, because Deku is a flat arc character with no Doubt, and because he has no truly interesting conflicts to overcome, he comes across as one-dimensional and boring. And, due to this, along with my other points from Parts 1 and 2, I believe Deku fails as a main character.

...

But, before I wrap this up, let me mention what I promised earlier:

Chapter 306 and what might lie beyond.

From this picture, we can see that the light has left Deku’s eyes. He’s not as hopeful anymore, if he’s even still hopeful at all.

This is backed up by Chapter 307:

The line “No wonder my gift from the Fourth wouldn’t shut up” just doesn’t really sound like something the Deku we know would say. It's too mean.

It’s almost as if Deku has given up on playing the nice guy, which is understandable, I suppose, but not really. Because why now of all times? Why has he given up now rather than before, and why all at once?

While I might be completely wrong, it seems like Horikoshi just might be trying to change Deku’s arc from a flat arc to one of the three negative character arcs. Again, this is referring to either a disillusionment arc, a fall arc, or a corruption arc. Most likely, he’s trying to take Deku from an idealized hero to someone a little more open to vigilantism.

But, if this is indeed the route he’s trying to take, it’s probably not going to work. Because he just hasn’t built up to it. He’s trying to subvert our expectations, but he’s not doing so hot, because you can’t change something like that just to give your plot an exciting little twist.

This isn’t Eren Jaeger transitioning from the little boy who wants to kill every titan he sees to starting the Rumbling and killing millions all in order to assure his friends’ freedom. And the reason why it isn’t is simple: there’s no transition. Eren’s journey from Point A to Point B has many stops along the way, where he grows closer and closer to B with each one but he’s still too close to A to be at B yet. Unlike Eren, however, Deku jumps from Point A to Point B without stopping at all, and he leaves you wondering how the hell he got there. Did he teleport? Since when was that one of his seven Quirks?

You can argue that his loss against Shigaraki was a breaking point of sorts, but this implies that there’s a buildup, and that just isn’t present in the anime or manga. I can’t name a single instance in the anime or manga where Deku’s actions suggest he’s questioning his Truth, his idea that he should save people with a smile and do it as a Pro Hero. Which is why the concept of Deku becoming less like All Might thanks to a loss of hope is interesting but can’t exactly be executed well at this point.

Because you can argue that his loss against Shigaraki is his first taste of true defeat that leaves him reeling, but I would have to counter with: “Why then is Deku so dramatically affected now? Shouldn’t it be more gradual? It’s not believable if he suddenly becomes an entirely different person. He should still resist such a dramatic change if he’s been so unwavering in his Truth up until this point. It’s like he came across a wall and instantly decided he can’t scale it despite the anime/manga constantly telling us that he’s not one to give up.”

So, despite Horikoshi’s potential attempt at changing Deku’s arc to one of the three negative character arcs, this won’t work well either.

...

Despite everything I’ve just said, I’m still caught up with the manga (obviously) and am now patiently awaiting every new episode of season 5. And this is because, despite all of the flaws with Deku as a character, especially as a main character, Horikoshi has still managed to keep me interested in his story. And, honestly, that’s kind of impressive, isn’t it? Goes to show that, despite a show’s flaws, it can still be enjoyed.

#bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #attack on titan #bnha manga #attack on titan manga #aot #my hero manga #attack on titan eren #deku #midoriya izuku #bnha analysis #mha analysis

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writing-gifts · 3 years

Text

datura (moth!bruno x butterfly!reader)

—–

A/N: a pretty chill chapter!

First Chapter || Previous Chapter || Next Chapter

Reader is gender neutral!

—–

[Early Winter]

The first few days at Bruno’s home are disorienting. Your sleep schedule was already poor for a diurnal creature, but staying with the moth was pushing it one step further to full nocturnal. Even when you would try to sleep at night like you were supposed to, the sound of Bruno and Narancia moving throughout the house would sometimes wake you up.

Along with that, where Bruno’s home was located and because of the weather, daylight felt like it lasted a tick within the actual span of the day. You could see but it felt darker than your home on an overcast day. So even though you naturally felt more alert in the day, there was always a tiny feeling of needing to go to sleep within you.

On the brightside, you could spend more time with the moth this way. It had only been a few days but the both of you had gotten closer--in the non-platonic sense--ever since you kissed. You loved it and sometimes it felt too good to be true. But at the same time, even if you try to push it down, you still feel unsure. What exactly were the two of you now? You were partners, right?

You had to be. Now that the fully platonic barrier was gone, you both were always touching. Whether it was holding hands, cuddling or just leaning against one another. And between the flirty quips and the teasing looks, you would kiss...a lot. It was nice.

While thinking about this, you stare out the bedroom’s small window as you lie in bed. Only your face is exposed in the blanket cocoon you put yourself in.

Today you had woken up while there was still light out but were reluctant to actually get up. When you first woke up you literally felt like you couldn’t, but now suddenly the bed felt too empty. And the small image you see of the snow piled up outside makes you rethink staying in bed. It must have snowed a good amount while you were asleep.

You yawn. Abilene momentarily pops into your head and you wonder what they’re up to. They were definitely up way before you that’s for sure. You hope they were keeping extra warm.

It takes a moment but when you finally force yourself out of your covers, you immediately think to go outside. In fact, the alluring and bright beauty of the snow almost has you running out of the house completely unprotected from the cold. You barely stop yourself and head back into Bruno’s room to grab one of your blankets and put on a pair of shoes.

After slipping the simple shoes on, you let your wings droop so you can wrap the blanket around yourself.

You head back to the main room and quietly open the door to avoid waking up either Bruno or Narancia. Walking out, you shut the door behind you. You had barely been outside since you arrived here so it was nice to get some fresh air.

Shuddering the moment the cold hits you, you wrap yourself completely with the covers and take in your surroundings. The snow had piled up a good amount, And you wonder if Bruno had moved the snow out of the way earlier since the ground in front of the door lacked any.

You climb up the small slope of snow to get a better view. Everything felt brighter with the fresh layer of white everywhere. You even found that you could see farther into the distance between all the trees.

For some reason you get the urge to touch the snow on the ground under you, but immediately pull your hand back when you feel a sharp chill shoot up your arm. Snow was pretty to look at but not nice to touch which you already knew, but every year you’d find yourself making the same mistake. However, you were still hoping to eat ice cream later in the season.

You wander around a bit in front of the house before stopping in a spot where more light manages to break through the bare branches of the trees. It must get extremely dark in this area when the trees are full of leaves.

Time escapes you and you don't realize how long you’re outside until you try to move your leg and your knee is almost locked in place. Your eyes widen and you immediately shuffle back to the house with your stiff limbs, almost slipping down the slope in the process.

Once you’re inside, you accidentally bump the door closed too loudly with your body but continue to awkwardly move forward.

So cold, holy crap! Need more covers.

Before you can even leave the main room Bruno walks in. His eyes immediately take in your strange stance and he gives you a confused look..

You'd jump if you could. “Y-You're awake?”

“I had a feeling I heard the door close shut.”

You internally sigh at your carelessness.

“You're shivering really bad. Are you okay?”

"I m-m-might have gone outside f-f-for a tick or m-more."

Bruno gives you the most exasperated look you've seen in awhile before pinching the bridge of his nose. But right after, he reaches out towards you.

“Come here.”

You move towards him and he leads you over to the giant open space in the middle of the main room and gently prompts you to sit down on the rug.

"Be right back.”

You rub your legs and try to bend them as you wait for the moth to return. When he does, he has many of your blankets and pillows within his arms. You watch as he unfolds a few of the covers on the ground which you crawl onto while he places the pillows against the front of the couch. Once the moth’s done, he sits down and motions you over so he can pull you against him. He then covers you both with the rest of the blankets before leaning back against the pillows.

“Is this okay?”

“Y-Yea.” You felt less cold but it might take more time for your body to warm up to a comfortable temperature.

Suddenly Bruno’s body begins to vibrate rapidly.

“W-What?”

He rests his head in the crook of your neck. “This will warm you up a little quicker.”

“Oh, o-okay.”

You both sit there for a while and the vibrating starts to lull you to sleep. The combined warmth of his body and sweater was just too cozy for you, and you weren’t going to try to keep your eyes open if you didn’t have to.

You wiggle in Bruno's arms and the moth gives you a questioning hum.

“Just changing positions. I feel like I’m going to fall asleep on you any second…”

You turn so you can properly lay against Bruno's chest and press your face against the fluff around his neck that was sticking out from his sweater.

So soft.

Bruno’s arms close around you again once you're situated and you sigh. It was partially one of content but also a bit of uncertainty. You wouldn't say you weren't enjoying this but you still had that one worry in your mind.

You lightly play with his fur. "....Are we doing this as friends?"

You knew what you were saying was absolutely ridiculous but you weren’t sure how to ask what you wanted without sounding awkward. Where did both you and Bruno stand after that kiss? You’re enjoying how much closer you two had become over the last couple days but you need a straightforward answer to completely relax.

"____."

"Yea?"

"I need to tell you something--"

Before Bruno can finish, Narancia suddenly runs into the room. He yells before jumping onto you which forces a grunt from your throat. He was definitely heavier than you look.

Bruno looks down at his son. "Narancia why did you do that?"

"I wanna be--I wanna join too!"

You move from your comfortable position so the little bee can properly lay against you. “At least I'm fully awake now.” You yawn. “Kinda”

Narancia looks up at you. “Are you guys married now?”

You almost choke on your own spit from the sudden question. Well you couldn't blame him. You and Bruno weren't exactly conspicuous with your affections.

You look at the moth and he answers for you. "Well we aren't married but, maybe one day. If ____ wants to."

You struggle to keep yourself from gawking.

The bee nods in understanding. You wish you could accept things as easily as children did.

You want to ask Bruno to further elaborate on that but Narancia starts an enthusiastic conversation with you about flowers. The bee wasn’t able to visit them on his own yet but he seemed quite excited too.

“Do you have any favorite flowers Narancia?” you ask.

He mules it over for a moment. “I like the big ones.”

“Like a sunflower?”

He tilts his head. “What’s that?”

You raise a brow a bit surprised.

“There's no sunflowers around here,” Bruno chimes in.

You nod. To find them you have to go to an open field, so there must not be any nearby. And you remember Bruno saying that carrying Narancia could be troublesome.

“How about I take you to see some in the Summer? They love the sun, hence the name. But you have to promise you won’t move too much when I carry you okay?”

God forbid the bee managed to squirm out of your grip.

The bee nods enthusiastically.

All three of you keep one another company in your pile of blankets and pillows. But eventually Narancia starts to get restless from listening to you and Bruno talk about “boring adult stuff” and runs off to his room.

You lay on your stomach on the ground and look at Bruno. You can tell that the moth was ready for bed.

"You can go to sleep, you know."

"I’m not that tired--" he yawns.

"Sure you're not."

"Well I am but I want to spend more time with you."

You weren't completely used to such sweet words so you aren't able to respond right away.

“...I do too, but I’m going to be here after you wake up. Unless I go to sleep right after.”

“I’ll try to wake up in the afternoon before that happens,” Bruno says. He leans over and presses kiss on your cheek.

You lay there once Bruno leaves and you feel yourself drifting off until Narancia runs in with a container of blocks to play with you. It mainly consisted of you trying to build something and the bumblebee knocking it over though.

You spend up until almost noon playing with him and trying to keep him entertained. At that point he wants to go outside, which you were honestly hoping to avoid but you suck it up and agree.

After dressing yourself up properly, making sure to protect your hands and layer up, you help Narancia dress himself too before heading outside.

You hug yourself as you watch Narnacia run around and play with the cold snow. He squats down and makes a small pile from it before turning to you.

“Let’s make a snowbug!”

Oh jeez.

Even though you rather not mess with the snow after your brief contact earlier today, you nod. It would be fun. Probably.

You ignore the cold of the snow through your gloves and help Narancia start the head for the snowbug before you move on to rolling up the body. Once Narancia is done with the head he helps you with the body.

After moving the body to a good spot, according to Narancia, you move to find the head but can’t.

“Narancia where’s the head?”

“There...” he points to a weirdly shaped pile of snow on the ground.

You walk up to it and raise a brow. “Um...What happened to it?”

The bee looks off to the side. “I tried bu’ it wasn't round. An’ when I tried to fix it, it fell apart…”

You nod, “That’s okay let’s remake it now.”

You help start it again and have the bee roll it up again, coming in to help when necessary so the shape would stay spherical.

“Okay now roll it closer to the body so I can put it on top.”

Once Narancia rolls it over, you pick it up and place it on top of the body. The snowbug is now at least a head taller than the bee.

“Now we decorate it.”

“Can we pu’ a scarf so he won’t be cold?”

You chuckle a bit. “Sure. Do you have an extra one?”

The bee nods before running inside. While he’s gone you look for something you can use as the arms. While you're looking, Narancia comes back with a white scarf speckled with blacks dots.

“That looks good, help me find something for the eyes and mouth too!”

With that Narancia runs back inside.

You keep looking around and find some long dead grass sticking out of the snow next to the trunk of a tree. You go over and feel it. It was hard and thin so you surmise that it’ll be good for the arms. You yank out 2 pieces and break each one in half to create 4 arms. You also grab another one to make the bug’s antenna.

After sticking the arms in the body of the snowbug and the antenna into the top of the head, Narancia finally returns.

“Here!” He holds out something in his little hands to you.

“Thanks--Wait these are my buttons.”

The bee smiles at you and you shake your head but take them to create the face of your snowy creation. Slightly crouching, you grin a bit at the different color buttons making up the eyes and smile. It was kind of cute.

“I wanna pu’ the scarf!” Narancia exclaims.

You lift him up so he can better reach the neck area and he wraps the scarf around the snowbug.

Afterwards, you back up a bit to get a good look at you and the bee's creation. “He came out pretty good!”

“His name is Jon!”

“That’s a good name Narancia.”

And he smiles even wide at your praise.

You hug yourself and rub your arms. “Okay let's go inside, I don’t think my limbs can take anymore of this.”

-----

When Bruno and Narancia were asleep you'd spend most of the day working on some type of clothing. Your main focus was Bruno’s top though since you didn't want him to see it before it was done. You had been nervous to start on it but you didn't want to be stuck making little squares forever.

You hold out what you had so far in front of your lantern. It was barely anything and you had spent so long on it. You weren’t even sure if you wanted to put sleeves on it or not either…Other than the color you had pick--black--you weren’t really sure about anything.

"What are you making?"

You bring the lace close to your chest before turning towards the moth behind you. “Nothing!”

"Is it another top? It looks really intricate.”

You ignore the moth's curious tone. You mentioned making a top for him offhandedly but you wanted this to be a surprise more than you wanted to show off.

“It's nothing. You really need to stop sneaking up on me.”

"Okay mio amor keep your secrets."

Bruno smiles playfully at you but you just pout and put the lace out of sight in your satchel. It was getting dark anyways and your eyes were starting to hurt

You turn your attention back to Bruno. “What’s up?”

"I saw that Narancia is still in bed, and I was wondering if you want to read with me? If you're not tired that is."

“Oh that sounds nice!” You get up to do a couple stretches since you've been sitting down for so long.

"What are we reading? A romance?"

"Yeah, Abilene actually lent it to me."

Your smile becomes slightly tense knowing how some of the stuff they read could…get. Hopefully it's nothing too out there.

Bruno places the lantern a bit closer to the couch before making himself comfortable and beckoning you over. You decide to sit next to him but the moth looks at you.

"It would be easier to sit on my lap you know?"

You laugh a bit awkwardly from not sitting there in the first place but move onto his lap.

Bruno opens the book and you relax into his chest. The warmth coming off his body has any tension leaving you.

"How are you so warm all the time? It’s too relaxing..." You rub a hand against the soft wool of his sweater’s sleeve. For a split moment you think about cuddling up to him when you sleep in bed.

Bruno places an arm in front of you. “As long as you're comfortable.”

“Yea, but I don't want to drift off too quickly.”

The story starts off relatively normal, and you and Bruno quietly read together while you silently signaled when he could turn the page. But as you get further the expected supernatural elements kick in. You almost want to cover your face at the more explicit parts but push through genuinely invested in the plot.

Suddenly, you burst out laughing. “Abby why?”

"What?” Bruno asks. You seemed to have surprised him with your laugh.

"It’s just that this is so ridiculous. I still like the story but come on!”

Other than the transformations and dead coming alive, the miscommunication seems almost fantastical. Looking from the outside in, it seemed so easy to avoid.

“It’s a little frustrating isn't it.” Bruno says.

You hum. “Yea but I can't pretend I’m above it though.” It made for good drama and interesting situations.

As the two of you continue the book, you end up moving positions multiple times. And by the time you're really struggling to stay awake, you're almost laying completely on top of the moth.

Your head rests against his chest as he reads outloud to you since you were having a hard time keeping up with the words.

Bruno softly touches your back. “____?”

You grunt, half awake.

“Are you still listening?”

“...Yea, the mantis is about to risk a one night stand with another cannibalistic mantis.”

“...What?”

“Oh wait, maybe I half dreamt that.”

Bruno closes the book. "Okay, we are going to bed."

"Nooo, I don't want to move."

"We can't sleep on the couch."

You pout but reluctantly get up from your comfortable spot on the moth to make your way, along with your lantern, to Bruno's room. Once you're there you immediately place the lantern down and flop on top of the bed.

Bruno comes in a moment afterward.

"Don't you want to change into something more comfortable?"

You half reply mumbling something incorrehent.

Bruno sighs and walks over to you removing your scarf off your neck. He then carefully helps you out of your sweater struggling a bit to get your wings through since you won't sit up.

"I'll just leave the rest of my stuff on."

You crawl up farther into the bed before getting under the covers and resting your head on your pillow. You then watch Bruno fold up your clothing before placing it on top of the dresser. Before he can leave the room though you call out to him.

Bruno stops at the door frame and turns towards you in question.

“Um, are you going to bed?

It was quite late. So you would probably end up sleeping until late morning the next day.

“Not just yet but you don't need to worry and force yourself awake tomorrow. I'll just sleep in Narancia’s room until you wake up.”

“Well…”

You struggle to finish your sentence though. You want him to stay but was it okay for you two to share the bed already?

You barely dwell on that question though.

Who were you kidding? You didn't care if it was appropriate or not. You didn't want to sleep alone. And there was no point forcing Bruno into Narancias room when his giant bed could easily fit the two of you!

”I want to share...the bed,” you mutter quietly.

Bruno’s brows raise. “Sorry mio amor can you repeat that, I couldn't hear.”

You give him an unamused look when you realise what he’s doing, but he simply smiles and waits patiently for you to repeat yourself.

“I want to share the bed with you!”

“Oh, that's what I thought I heard just wanted to make sure.” He walks up to you and presses a kiss to your furrowed brow and you immediately relax your face.

The moth makes his way over to the floor length mirror and you watch him take out his hair clips and undo his braid.

“Your hair looks nice like that you know.”

“Really?” His fingers comb through parts of his hair.

“Yep! You look cute.”

He removes his fingers from his hair. “Well I guess I can leave it like this for now then.”

Bruno goes to take off his sweater and you immediately look away, but then you remember that you have seen him shirtless for most of the time you’ve known him. Something about this felt more private though.

“What’s wrong?” Bruno asks when he sees you looking off to the side quietly.

You struggle to explain though.

Realization dawns on the moth though from your few mumbled words and he chuckles. “You're so cute.”

“I know, I k--wait no, I thought you were going to say something else...”

Once Bruno gets in bed, you reach up and twirl some of the wavy strands of his hair as he looks down at you from his sitting position.

“____ I need to tell you something.”

You hum dropping your hand and doing your best to keep yourself from falling asleep just yet.

“I know it's not very romantic. But I guess when I’m with you I feel a little more impulsive. I really like you, and I want us to be together….as mates.”

That gets rid of some of the sleepiness you feel and you feel your face getting hot.

“I should have said this sooner. I don't want to pressure you into anything--”

“Bruno I've been all over you since I got here, you would definitely not be pressuring me.” You sit up. “I--I’m actually really happy! I really like you too! It’s dumb but, I’ve liked you for so long--”

This was the first time you'd seen the moth look flushed and it was sight to behold. A giant part of you already wants to cause it to happen more.

Bruno gently grabs your hand when he realizes you're looking at him and clears his throat slightly before smiling at you.

“Now I’m kind of curious mio amor. How long, if you don't mind me asking?”

You grimace a bit looking away from the moth. “It’s kind of embarrassing...But kinda first sight. I thought it was a silly crush that would go away but it just got more intense. It got really bad in Fall.”

Bruno massages the back of your hand with his thumb.

“What about you?” you ask.

“I’m not exactly sure when they started but I realized I felt feelings that were different than platonic in Fall after you got hurt.”

You nod. Part of you wonders how Bruno reacted when he found out what happened from Abbacchio, but most of you was okay with not knowing.

“...Now I have to give that season more credit.” You give the moth a small smile which he returns. “I’m glad that's out of the way now. Now I can clearly call you my mate.” You giggle, feeling a little giddy.

You can't keep down the smile on your face even if you wanted to.

“Ready for bed?”

You nod. “...You can shut off the lantern if you want.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yea, I know light like that can be distracting to fall asleep too.”

Bruno shuts your lantern, and you find yourself not minding the dark so much when he pulls you into his arms and you stare into his glowing eyes.

Your fingers feel at the soft hair at the back of his neck. Apparently, you couldn’t stop yourself from playing with his hair. “Are you even tired Bruno?”

“Not really but that's okay, I just want to lay here with you.”

Your chest thrills from the words. “...How do you say things like this so easily?”

“There’s no shame in what I feel for you. And I want you to know these feelings.”

You yawn and shut your eyes. “I...I hope I can be more like that...one day.”

“Well, you did ask me to get in bed with you.”

“But...that was so...hard.”

“We just got together so give it some time. And either way, you show you care in your own way.”

The moth presses a quick on your lips and you sleepily grin.

“Goodnight ____.”

#idk what long fic to pic up next #or go back to after this #we aint in kansas is just staring at me waiting for me to give it a proper outline lol #bruno buccellati x reader #bruno bucciarati x reader #bruno x reader #jjba x reader #reader insert

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darlingsdevil · 4 years

Text

Of The Valley (Joel x Reader)

Chapter 9: I Sense There’s Something in The Wind (Part 1)

Summary: Life in Jackson is never easy. Consoling angsty teenagers, wading through the mysterious waters of Joel’s romance language and with a child of your own on the way? Life is about to get a lot harder.

Masterlist

RDR2 Masterlist

Tag list (comment to be added): @sidepuff @joelsheartache @fangirl-inthe-us @scarletpines @mikah-writes @sleepylunarwolf @mr-robot-x @shybookdragon @heughan @writer-jamie @nelliecraine

A/N: *sigh* so much has happened since I last updated. School royally beat me up, I’m constantly tired and have no motivation to write, left a toxic boyfriend! Life has not been kind to me recently but I am trying my best to live it up and learn, but at least I am doing well in school. Sacrifice your sanity to do well in school I guess. I got a guitar too.. okay now I’m just rambling. Updates will be slower as time continues. Constantly fatigued and getting four hours of sleep a night doesn’t work well.

Happy spooky season

This chapter will be in two parts since I couldn’t find the motivation to write the rest of the chapter on Halloween.

•••

Life was quiet until the festival and party, like it had been for months prior. Decorations were put up, apples were picked from the orchards just outside town, costumes were made, pumpkins carved, ghost stories told. The festival was only two days, the first day being the children’s night and day activities, the second being the Halloween party.

Maria gave everyone who’s job wasn’t totally necessary the day off. Which meant the bar closed. You were more than happy to have two days of rest. You purchased two pumpkins this year, carving a ghost into one and a goofy face into another, you were going to light them the night of the party. The first day of the festival — children’s night, where the kids threw a mini parade around town in their costumes and carved pumpkins and got a free bar of candy from the confectionar. They played games, ghost in the graveyard being a popular one when it got dark outside, of course however, Maria limited their playing field. You watched the parade during the day and then you went home. The kids made makeshift noise makers and adults lined the streets as the kids walked by, laughing, smiling, shouting, it was all good fun.

You weren’t sure whether you were going to dress up or not, no ideas came to mind. Last year you went as an angel and a devil with Mark, hence his nickname Devil Boy, his birthday was October 30th, the first day of the celebration.

Today was his birthday. You hadn’t spotted Joel or Ellie at the parade, you briefly said hi to Maria and Tommy, as well as Dina. You were sure Ellie and Cat were dreading cleanup, as well as the other teenagers. You wondered if Ellie and Dina had made up yet, or had her and Cat.

After the parade, there wasn’t much to do. You took down the flowers on your porch, you trimmed the bushes outside, cut the grass, washed the windows, dusted the house, scrubbed the floors. Your house was beginning to feel lively again, like a brand new fresh start. It took a few hours to complete all your tasks, taking short breaks in between. By the time you were finished, night had fallen. You were nervous about tomorrow, were things going to end up like the last night you had spent with Joel? Mark was gone.. you didn’t need to worry about him. Were you ready for that? Sure, you had asked for him to take you.. but were you ready to go that far? There was uneasiness between both of you, feelings wouldn’t change that. You would have to talk, have him listen, pray he would understand. Was now a good time to tell him everything?

You rested your hand over your bump as you sat on the couch, watching an old soap opera you had on DVD. The baby was definitely getting bigger. It was hard to think about it, but a small part of you was excited. There was the thought of names, baby clothes, toys. You wondered if it was a girl or boy. It was strange to think of a baby who looked like Mark.. it would be hard to look at the baby and not see him in his final moments. You already occasionally thought you saw him for a fleeting moment, down the corner of the street, in the crowd of the filled bar, a passerby holding themself the same way he did.

How would you even tell Joel? There was so much you needed to say, there was time, there was just too much that needed to be said. Joel had enough on his plate, maybe you wouldn’t tell him at all and continue on for the rest of your life blissfully ignoring him. That was too cruel though. Your relationship with Joel was.. complicated. You left things off for three months on an unfinished note, at least he was open to going on a date with you.

There were other people to tell too. If you gave birth, people would begin asking around for Mark. The truth would come out eventually. You always knew it would. Perhaps you will have thought of a lie by then. Perhaps he left to join a group of free spirited clicker killing hippies. That seemed like a good enough lie as any.

But for now, you wanted to rest. You wanted to sit back and watch the tide roll in, without a worry in your mind.

•••

“Welcome miss..?” The man began.

“Y/N,” You replied, reaching out your hand to shake his.

“Tommy. Welcome,” He smiled warmly. You had finally found the esteemed settlement after weeks of travel.

“Mark,” Mark said, shaking Tommy’s hand, marveling at the sight of the town. Tommy had stopped you while you checked in and got acquainted with the town, already having a talk with Maria.

“Where you guys coming from? Always good to see some new faces round here.”

“I’m from Denver,” Mark told him.

Tommy’s face paled very slightly, not even you or Mark noticed.

“How are things there? Heard some stuff went down a while back.”

“Not too sure, I left right when things got messy.” He shrugged nonchalantly.

“And you?” Tommy looked towards you, waiting for your response.

“Oh, all over. Living on my own last few years, besides Mark here of course.” You beamed at Mark.

“How did you two meet?” This was starting to sound more like an interrogation, but you pushed it to the side, they were only being cautious. Maria already heard your and Mark’s story, others would want to as well.

“I found her a few months ago, passing through a town when I saw a group get overrun by a horde. I was trying to hide in an apartment building when I fell right into her camp. Almost blew my head off, but hey, gotta stay sharp,” Mark chuckled.

“He told me about a settlement up in Wyoming, I decided it was worth a shot so we ended up here, had nowhere else to go,” You finished.

“Well glad you two made it safe and sound, welcome to Jackson.”

You woke up in a coldsweat, dazed from sleep. Your hand on your bump, you realized, you must have done it in your sleep.

Mark. His baby. You glanced over at your clock. 11:34 PM. Technically still his birthday.

Last year, you managed to find vintage band posters for him for his birthday. You made him cake too, then you snuck out and went to the lake and watched the stars. They looked different than what you remembered, even though you lived under them, there was something serene about being there. Silence, waters reflecting the moonlight, and stars, the only thing you could see for miles. It was peaceful, quiet, yet it was full of life.

And so when you found yourself climbing the steps into his loft, sitting on his dusty bed with his dog tags resting on your neck, the moonlight streaming in from the curtains, just a sliver open, far enough to see a star. Perhaps they looked the same, maybe they were the same. Maybe you were the one who had changed.

“I’m pregnant,” You whispered into the silence.

“I’m pregnant and it’s yours, Mark.”

No echo, no cabinet slamming shut down stairs, no creaking footsteps. Silence.

“Happy birthday,” You said out loud as you closed the door.

•••

The night of the party, you lit your pumpkins when it got dark and headed to Joel’s house. You hadn’t seen much of him since he had been over, you talked to him briefly one morning, but your schedules were always conflicting. You were nervous about seeing him. Being close to him again.

You found an old cat costume from years ago. A cat headband, a clip on tail, all black clothes. It was simple enough. Since you had been wearing Mark’s dogtags so much, you decided to opt with them, not wearing them felt like you were missing some part of yourself. You doubted Joel would dress up, he wouldn’t be out of place if he didn’t, and you wouldn’t be out of place in your costume either. It was 50/50.

You were surprised to see pumpkins out by Ellie’s house as you entered through the gate, your heart strumming loudly. It looked like she had carved some strange face into a pumpkin, you would have to ask her what it was supposed to be later.

You knocked on Joel’s door, starting down at your shoes, the cold air nipping at your skin. He answered almost immediately.

“How do I look?” You said smugly, turning so he could see your tail, doing a little twirl as you did. He wasn’t wearing a costume — like you expected.

“Dashing. You ready to go?” He smiled.

“Of course. Let’s go.”

It was an exceptionally short walk to the church and bonfire. Jackson was a small city, especially considering Joel lived right next to Main Street. They had decorated the streets quite nicely, pumpkins, hay bales, corn stalks, squash, a warm glow seemingly in every window. The leaves twirling around like fire.

The church came into view, the bonfire in the backyard of the church. Groups of people walked in, you could hear the music from here. Joel walked close to you, which you noticed. Close enough, but far enough to not be super suspicious.

He held the door open for you, the music becoming loud as he did. Mark told you once that he loved the rhythms of music, that he could feel the pulse in him, that’s why he liked music so much. Perhaps you could get the person in charge of music to play Bill Withers..

Shit. What if someone asked about Mark? Would they notice? What would you even say? That he was sick? How long until someone would really go looking for him?

Would Joel notice your small bump? You tried to wear baggy clothes. You didn’t have to worry about Maria spilling your secrets — she was trustworthy.

Inside of the church, the party was booming. It smelt of cinnamon and leaves, whiskey and good times. It seemed like all of Jackson was there. People in simple costumes, others dressing normally. You spotted Maria and Tommy, Tommy nodded at you two when you entered.

The song they played was very folksy and upbeat. A crowd had already started dancing, you couldn’t stop the smile from spreading on your face. No sign of Ellie, but you did spot Cat, as well as Jessie and Dina. On opposite sides of the room of course.

“So, what do you want to do? Drinks?” Joel asked as he led you to the side of the room.

“Oh no, I’m good for now, but don’t stop yourself from getting one.” .

“Sure thing,” Joel replied, setting off to the makeshift bar table that was set up.

You watched the people dance, remembering how Mark used to pull you into the circle.

“Come on Y/N! It’ll be fun!” Mark laughed, trying to pull you over to the circle.

“Nope. I’m not doing it.”

“Well you’re going to. I don’t care, you have to.” He yanked you forward, pulling you to the dancefloor.

You stood stiffly as a rock. You felt like every eye in the room was on you, even though you really knew they could care less, caring more about nursing a drink or trying to hear the latest gossip.

The music was upbeat and fast, good dancing music. He slowly began to dance, one eyebrow cocked to invite you to join him. The room was orange and bright, it seemed like it was glowing.

“Come on,” He said with a singsong tone. Grabbing your arm and shaking it to the beat.

His dancing became more loose and free, smiling the entire time, a twinkle in his eye. He took your arm and twirled you and leaned you into his arms.

“It’s pretty easy.”

“Not for me,” You grumbled as the music ended.

A slower song came on and Mark groaned, his devil horns tilted slightly on his head. “Alright, looks like we have to slow dance now.” He grabbed your arms and locked them around his neck, then placed his hands on your waist. His hands were like tiny firecrackers on you, every touch sparking as his fingertips gently rubbed against your hips. He was passion.

“You know it’s easier if you just give in.”

“Never,” You hissed playfully.

“Well then just sway with me. That’s all we gotta do, sway,” He told you softly. You rolled your eyes, but you gave in.

The music channeled through him. You liked watching it overcome him, his eyes becoming distant like the music was speaking to him.

“Do you think everyone is looking at us?” You asked, glancing around the room.

Mark gently returned to the surface, “Why would they be looking? Only you and me and the music right now.”

You fought the urge to kiss him. You didn’t want people looking. You had kissed him so many times before, but there was that nagging feeling in you. Like a shadow that trailed you. A thought pushed to the back of your mind.

As if on cue, Mark’s eyes trailed lower to your lips, he leaned in gently to you, as if he were to break under your touch. His lips met yours and a heavy feeling underneath a spark set in. An undercurrent of rapid waters that threatened to pull you under.

Who was watching you?

Joel came back with his drink, a glass of whiskey.

You glanced over at the drink, humor in your voice, “Heavy hitters so soon?”

Joel chuckled lightly, taking a sip from his drink.

“You sure you don’t want anything?” He asked you. You shook your head.

“Alright well a few more drinks and I’ll be out there on the dancefloor in no time.”

“Didn’t take you as much of a dancer, cowboy.”

“Oh, I’m not. More like a dying chicken with its head cut off,” He laughed, shaking his head. Couples bounced to the music. You couldn’t remember ever having seen Joel dance, then again at parties you were almost always preoccupied.

“Do you want to head outside to the bonfire?” You asked him, seeing the glow through the windows.

“Yeah.”

You led him to the backyard where the more mellow crowd was. It was crisp outside, and awfully cold, you wished you would had brought a better jacket.

The sky was crystal clear and the stars were brilliant. The only truly good thing you could think of that came out of the apocalypse was no more light pollution. The stars were true and had looked that way for years.

The fire was large and powerful, it crackled and hissed but the warmth was inviting. Groups of people chatted around the fire, Joel led you to a fallen log by the fire where you could sit.

The party chatter and the muffled sound of the music could still be heard from outside, the looming walls right next the church wasn’t the best view, but the stars were all you needed.

“Nice night, huh?” Joel asked, looking up to the sky.

“Yeah,” You said, your teeth chattering slightly. You rubbed your hands together and aimed them towards the fire. Joel had brought a jacket at least.

“Do you want my jacket?”

You blinked. “No, no, it’s fine, I’ll just uh..” You trailed off, you wanted his jacket.

Joel chuckled quietly, shaking his head. He shrugged off his leather jacket and placed it around you. You felt your cheeks grow warm, and it wasn’t just because of the fire, you turned your head away and looked down briefly.

You looked back up at the stars, receiving courage from those little stamps of light. You leaned your head against his shoulder. He was warm, he felt safe, like a blanket wrapped around you. It was a natural feeling. You pulled his jacket up so it covered your neck. You wanted to stay like this forever.

God, you wanted to kiss him. You wanted to tilt your head up and place a gentle kiss on his lips. You wanted to kiss him in front of the stars, you wanted to kiss him in front of the fire, you wanted to kiss him on the dancefloor. You wanted to kiss him, you wanted to feel the way he felt against you, you wanted to share that sacred feeling like you’re the only two people in the world again.

But no, you couldn’t. Three months and you ghosted him. He was rightly upset with you. There were things you had to say. But he was here now, going on a date with you, giving you his jacket. The feelings were still there it seemed. A part of you was relieved.

You let yourself fully relax, he placed an arm around your shoulder.

You stayed like that for awhile, simply watching the fire crackle and the stars twinkle. Time was no foe anymore.

In a way it felt like Mark was there too, maybe it was the fact that it was Halloween, maybe it was the strange imbalance of practically everything in your life. It felt like he was there and he was smiling at you.

Joel was smiling too.

•••

#joel x reader #otv #tlou #the last of us #the last of us part 2 #tlou x reader #tlou 2 #tlou 2 fanfiction #joel miller x reader #the last of us part ii #fanfiction

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honeym4rk · 4 years

Text

station (jjh)

college! jaehyun x reader word count: 3.0k summary: four times you find yourself alone with jaehyun at a bus station.

There is comfort in the silence.

With every step you take, there is a crunch of fallen, juniper leaves at your feet. Your canvas tote bag is looped around your shoulder, your fingers clinging to the straps like it would shield you from the awkwardness of the current circumstances.

He’s got his hands hidden in the cavity of his hoodie. His knuckle cracking is sporadic, and you cringe at just how many times they’ve made an encore in the past two minutes.

You really should have begged Mark to tag along and leave the shindig so that this wouldn’t have happened- but alas, the boy was still hooked by the prospect of winning the next round of Mario Kart against Donghyuck. ‘It does some good to my self-esteem,’ he’d said.

So here you are, sauntering bashfully to the bus stop with Jaehyun.

“So, uh- what bus are you taking?” You muster up the courage to speak up after a few minutes of painful reticence.

“I’d have to take 922 or 153 from the opposite stop to get back to hall,” he sighs. It’s clear that he reciprocates the weird, distinctive tension here.

“And you?” He faces you with his raised eyebrows and you’re baffled by the sudden eye contact made. Your eyes dart elsewhere.

“Oh, I’m taking 922 from here.” You nod your head imperceptibly at the bus stop ahead of you.

A few metres away, there’s a zebra crossing, and you thank your lucky stars that you’re finally about to part ways. Oh, you’re sure Jaehyun is a nice person and all, but that doesn’t change the fact that the unspoken, kind enmity in the air is capable of being taut so hard around your neck that you asphyxiate.

Ten more steps. Come on.

Five steps.

Three steps.

“I’ll see you next ti-”

Yet he doesn’t stop at the crossing. Instead, he continues his stride in tandem with yours towards the station. You stop in your tracks, slowly gesturing towards the beaconing street light with the hand you raised to bid adieu.

“Aren’t you going to, you know..?” Eyes hinting at the yellow streaks of light, at the bus stop across the road, anywhere away from his own. Jaehyun notices your halt and follows suit.

“Well, I mean, Mark did ask me to see that you got home safe....”

You immediately wrack your brain for an appropriate response to his chivalry. It’s unclear how you should react; he really caught you by surprise. And from the way he’s gnawing at his inner lip and raising a hand to scratch the nape of his neck, you infer that he’s abashed too. All you manage is a small, “Oh,” as more silence ensues, before you start to blabber,

“No, no, thanks, Jaehyun, but it’s really fine, you don’t have to.”

His lips are taut into a firm, straight line and he lets out a surreptitious hum.

“Let me just wait ‘til you board your bus. Is that okay? It’s getting pretty late.”

You want to vehemently object.

And you’re about to, but you let out a consenting “Yeah, alright.”

He’s invading your desiderated solace- yet something about his offer seems so genuine and saccharine that you comply out of curiosity. You’d heard things about Jaehyun around in school before, good things, especially seeing that he was well acquainted with your friends like Mark, but you’d never really encountered him until tonight, thanks to Donghyuck’s birthday celebration. Being a Linguistics student, fate hadn’t really presented many opportunities for him to meet someone majoring in Pharmacy.

Therefore- you think to yourself- it wouldn’t be so bad. It’s unlikely that you’ll actually talk to him again, since you’ll probably never be within a radius of at least ten metres from him again. It’s alright, it’s okay. You decide to let him be a gentleman.

So you bask in the quietude shrouding the two of you, as you sit on the metal form, awaiting the arrival of a yearned 922.

After all, there is the slightest hint of comfort in the silence.

There is also comfort in the familiarity.

You’re sure there’s a sense of déjà vu. It’s a similar scene to what had ensued a few weeks ago, at least, and you’re definitely surprised to be here again, with him . However, you’ve both abandoned the multi-layered cake of unease. It’s almost been completely devoured now. Fortunately.

Jaehyun’s chuckling relentlessly- nearly doubled over laughing- as you recount the earlier occurrences of the Friday night.

“Yeah, no, but I’d give anything to see the look on Donghyuck’s face again.” His eyes crinkle into small crescents as he runs a hand through his silver hair.

“He looked so confident that it was going to work and I’d already told him otherwise, but I really don’t know what he expected.”

Tonight, there had been an effort to study in Donghyuck’s apartment; considering the looming exam season. This purpose was indeed fulfilled, to some extent.

Then Donghyuck, feeling rather ravenous, decided that he wanted to indulge in a quick and easy two-ingredient Oreo mug cake. The video tutorial truly looked too good to be true- you’d seen multiple YouTubers debunk the content-farm produced recipes.

The wide-eyed boy was too desperate, however, as he credulously decided to fill his mug with crushed oreos and milk to the brim. He swore that it looked and sounded promising until a loud Pop! reverberated in the kitchen 30 seconds into heating.

Everyone gathered around to watch Donghyuck cry over his spilt milk, literally, as his appliance perpetually emitted smoke, its glass door burst open. Burnt mounds of moist black and white cookies were thrown at the white, metal walls of the microwave. Donghyuck fanned the plumes of smoke hastily.

“It looks like a volcano erupted.” Mark added, coughing, as he tried to swallow the chuckle bubbling at the back of his throat.

“Dude- I don’t want to say I told you so but,” You began to implore, before Donghyuck interjected.

“Maybe I should just try again, I think the microwave setting just wasn’t right.”

And so he did- but to no avail.

The two of you approach the tiny station side by side, and you relish the warm, fuzzy feeling establishing in your stomach. Not quite butterflies, but maybe more like a tiny sprout popping out of the ground.

“To be fair, though, it didn’t taste half as bad as it looked.”

You snort. “Sure, because it’s literally sugar and milk with a dash of hidden carcinogens.”

He lets out a low chortle. Jaehyun nails the bellowing dad laugh right down to a T, and some part of you finds this endearing.

A flash of bright light emerges as you look up from your feet. 922 has arrived and you’re rummaging through your bag for your bus card.

“I feel like I left my card at Donghyuck’s, shit,”

The bus halts.

“Here, use mine, I’ve got a spare.” Jaehyun offers without a second thought, pulling his card from the pocket of his denim jeans.

“Go on, the bus driver’s waiting.”

You would have thought this through for a little while longer, but he was right. A scowl that said ‘Stop wasting my damn time,’ is plastered on the driver’s face, and it urges you to carefully pick the card slotted between his fingers.

“Thanks so much- I’ll return it tomorrow, or something.” Your eyebrows furrow together and you clench your teeth together in a grimace.

“Yeah! Yeah, whenever. Good night, Y/N. Get home safe,”

“You too, thanks again!”

Boarding the bus hastily, you wave at him through the glass door as the bus sets off. He doesn’t leave until you’re out of sight.

You can’t help but grin as you examine the portrait on his student pass. He’s handsome, skin clear and glossy, hair parted such that there are a bunch of strands obstructing his forehead. It’s black in this image. You wonder how many colours it's been dyed. His dimples replicate the poked slime in the myriad of videos you’ve seen, and his cheekbones are incredibly prominent.

It dawns on you that you don’t have his number, or follow him on Instagram, or have any means to contact him at all. You guess that you’ll have to fish something from Mark, but Jaehyun seems to beat you to it.

Unknown, [2340]: hey this is jaehyun lol hope you get back safe :-)

A sudden flash of the many possible outcomes this could entail breezes past your mind. You’re quite uncertain about how this will play out, and you unlock your phone to reply.

Y/N, [2341]: hii hahah thanks again! i can return your card tomorrow, just lmk where i can drop by

Jaehyun, [2341]: yeah sure, i think i’ll be cooped up in starbucks doing work w my friends lol

Jaehyun, [2341]: u can join if ud like :o

There is comfort in the unknown.

There is comfort in the noise.

Your whole herd of boisterous friends are walking uphill from yet another study session at Donghyuck’s- there’s been quite a number of them since the first. You’re honestly amused by how many people can fit in his apartment. The study group has expanded from a mere four to a whopping seven people in total.

Thankfully, there haven’t been any microwave oven explosions since then, but you’ve had your good share of fun and company, and more importantly, productivity.

The pack of young adults currently divulging the extensive, latest gossip and hall horror stories, you and Jaehyun stray further behind. You’re trying to listen in and pick apart information, but you’ve joined the conversation a bit too late for context.

“Oh my god, Lia, you’re going to hate hearing this, but…” Jungwoo begins, his voice entering a decrescendo.

“But Jeno has a girlfriend? Yeah, I figured.” Lia wails. “I saw them together in the library the other day, being all cute and shit. My heart shattered .” She emphasises this by hitting Jungwoo’s shoulder out of pure frustration.

“How long have they been together, though?” Ryujin quips, to which she gets a reply, but you try to drown out the rest of their conversation.

You tug at the arm of Jaehyun’s sweatshirt, and he leans closer to you as you query, “Who’s Jeno, again?”

“Cute dude that she keeps bumping into at hall, I think,” he mumbles. His words are semi-intelligible, because of the commotion right in front of you.

“Sorry? I didn’t catch that.” The infinite frequencies are hard to tune out, and it gets increasingly arduous to do so when Ryujin gasps.

“Oh shit, the bus is here!” Your friends are immediately ready to break into a sprint, but Jaehyun’s feet seem heavy as he continues to meander with you.

“Jae, aren’t you coming? The next one’s in thirty minutes!” Jungwoo shouts as they begin to dash across the road.

“It’s fine, go on! I’m just a little lazy. See you!” Jaehyun dismisses him with the wave of his extended hand, and receives an incredulous look. The lame excuse confuses you, bamboozles you, but you wave goodbye to your friends anyway.

It’s been long since you’ve been caught alone here at the bus stop with Jaehyun- you usually head home with Mark every Friday. He’s not here, though. He’s crashed at Donghyuck’s for tonight.

“Uhm, what was that ?” You chuckle nervously, the little sprout in your belly magically reappearing. Truth be told, after the many lighthearted, late-night messages exchanged over the past few weeks, and after unravelling Jaehyun bit by bit, the sprout has grown into a pocket-sized garden. It brings its own butterflies, but you don’t quite have the audacity to admit this. There’s a different kind of trickiness lingering in the air tonight.

“Well, you know- Mark…and it’s- it’s getting late, kinda.” He’s timorous tonight. Under the luminescence of the bus station’s lamps, you see the pink tint land on the tips of his ears, something you’ve learnt happens when he’s rather shy.

“I wanted to ask you something, too, though.”

“Okay, shoot.” You take a seat. He sits a modest distance away from you, cracking his knuckles instinctively.

“Well, I uhm, I’m not quite sure how you’ll react to this but,” he licks his lips.

“But?” You encourage him to carry on, staring as you await his continuation.

He looks as if he’s got the words at the tip of his tongue, the sea of sentences about to overflow from his mouth, and they’re spilling when he starts speaking again.

“Would you-” You listen intently, attempting to read his lips. However, he’s cut off by the booming wails of a velocious ambulance. You whip your head around to watch the vehicle pass by.

Jaehyun breathes sharply, exhaling in frustration. The cries subside, so he tries again.

“Y/N,” he clears his throat, and you face him once more.

“Yeah, sorry.”

“I was wondering if-”

A fire truck zooms past the bus stop, and your attention is grabbed by the monotonous siren that raids your ears. Jaehyun notices your bus approaching, and he panics. The air-raid isn’t becoming distant; the truck’s obstructed by the imposing red-light flashing. There’s only so much time left to ask what he’s been dying to- and he can’t believe he’s getting cockblocked by the emergency services right now.

You’re hearing Jaehyun spill a string of words but they’re incoherent- all you can seem to comprehend is the blaring repetitions that are relentless.

“What?!” You shout, fighting past the cacophony. “I can’t hear you!” You’re signing this to him, pointing to your ear and shaking your hand vigorously.

Your bus halts before you. Jaehyun’s in an absolute frenzy now. He doesn’t want to do this online. Something about hiding behind his screen sounds so ingenuine to him, and you’re already standing, shit, but he can’t win against the absolute pandemonium and doesn’t want to embarrass himself in front of the small crowd that’s alighted the bus, but he’s also not sure when he’ll get to talk to you in private like this again,

So he clamours.

“Do You! Want To Go Out! With Me!” He’s cupping his large hands around his mouth, screaming into the makeshift amplifier with all his might, as you walk towards the front doors of the bus.

You look like a deer caught in headlights, eyes wide open in disbelief as you gawk at the boy who’s sheepishly glancing at everyone and using his hand to defend himself from their stares. The butterflies that have erupted in you are merciless.

And then you burst into a fit of laughter- Jaehyun curses the sirens for piercing through such a pleasant sound- and you nod profusely, one foot already boarding the bus.

The glass doors shut close, and you’re enthusiastically gesturing to your handphone, waving at him. The bus whizzes away.

He’s shell-shocked, and he’s unable to will his hands in drawing his phone from his pocket. The sudden series of vibrations brings him back to his senses.

Y/N (⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝),[2257]: WAIT ask me again

Y/N (⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝), [2257]: idk if i heard u right

Jaehyun, [2258]: k

Y/N (⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝), [2258]: dude come back </3

Y/N (⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝), [2258]: YES lol

Y/N (⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝), [2257]: yeeeeeeees

It heavily hinders Jaehyun that night, but there is comfort in the noise.

There is comfort in the isolation.

It’s only the blinding fluorescent lights and the cool breeze presenting company at the bus stop- you’re grateful that the occasional cars speeding by are helping you break down the very last walls of tension between the two of you, if there are any.

Whoosh.

“I really enjoyed today.” He smiles and steals a quick glance at you. You’re at a different bus stop now- a month later and you’re amazed that you’ve gone out with Jaehyun at least three times now.

You catch the slight twinkle in his eyes as he scoots a whole foot nearer towards you on the cool metal bench. The distance between the two of you is closing slowly yet your heart rate is augmenting. It’s accelerating now- faster than any of the rambunctious vehicles that race down the road, their engines revving dirtily.

Whoosh. A black BMW zooms past you both and you take the opportunity to reciprocate the cheeky glimpse.

“Me too.”

There’s fumbling of fingers and twiddling of your thumbs before you notice the sudden influx of light and buzzing and realise that your bus has arrived. Pure languish rushes through every vein in your body- you don’t want this night to end.

Jaehyun begins to stand and shoots a quizzical expression when you don’t follow suit.

“Let’s wait for the next one,” you grin, your legs swinging back and forth as you continue to glue yourself on the elevated seat.

The sound of his chuckle envelopes you into a warm hug- it’s deep, and strong, yet soft at the same time- and then you’re pulled to your feet by your wrists before he embraces you with confident hesitation too.

“Is this- it’s okay, right?” He just wants to be sure.

“Yeah- very.” You breathe, and his boyish smell fills your lungs. There is difficulty in naming what scented cologne he’s used today; but you devote no more attention. You just wallow in the tangy, mellow fragrance that has permeated your senses.

He’s got his arms coiled around your waist, his palm extended to press your back closer to him. You’re playing with the sharp, freshly cut hairs on the back of his neck. You run your fingers through them and he dives his head further into the crook of your neck. Jaehyun’s muffled voice is tickling your shoulder-

“Your hair smells really nice.” The corners of your lips edge upwards into an unrelenting grin.

“Thank God.”

There is comfort in Jaehyun.

#nct #jung jaehyun #jung jaehyun x reader #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun fanfic #jaehyun imagine #jaehyun oneshot #jaehyun blurb #jaehyun au #jaehyun fluff #jung yoonoh #jaehyun #nct imagines #nct oneshot #nct au #nct fanfic #hm4rk os #hm4rk jaehyun

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2idiots · 4 years

Text

Wave inspired!Seonghwa au x reader

summary: Maybe just maybe the boy out in the water can make you loosen your stance up on the tourists crowding your town

word count: 2.1k-ish

warnings: none

gender neutral!reader

The first time you see him you’re walking home from work along the sea wall, your work bag clutched tightly between your arm and polyester polo, a scowl weighing heavily across your face

Every year this time (summer) rockets you directly into a terrible mood, it is literally clockwork and here’s why:

tourists

these rich people and their bad manners flock to your town to spend their summer breaks at the resorts, littering your beaches, buying your groceries, taking your space, and just generally being pretenious dicks

last year you and the rest of town spent a full week cleaning the beaches after the last of the out-of-towners were gone

But this boy, this boy was different

After all it was sunset and he was out in the water fully clothed looking like he walked out of a calvin klein shoot or some shit

the light spilling through the sky cast a orange glow, lighting him up like angel

you were kinda dumbstruck standing on the seawall staring at him for a good minute

he looked like an angel and you looked like someone smacked you over the head with a frying pan, primarily because you had spent the entire day (and all your energy) responding to terrible customers

No they can not just bargain the prices with you because guess what...

You D O N ‘ T set the prices

and as much as they complained about the price on beer you C O U L D N O T change the price, and even if you could you clocked that gold rolex and the expensive pressed polo the minute they walked in so you sure as hell W O U L D N O T

they could more than afford the price of your store’s beer and after they had it they were insufferable

Then there was a women who made you count back your change three times because she thought you were stealing from her, stealing insignificant change

Needless to say you also wanted to get into the ocean in your clothes too and maybe swim out to an island without any people and live the rest of your days as hermit lost in nature

because wow humanity S U C K S

But you had to save money up for the fall semester so that meant putting up with some of the worst of humanity for you bigger dream; that just didn’t leave a lot of space for seeing the good in many people especially out-of-towners

so this mysterious swimmer was probably just another annoying tourist, being pretty didn’t mean he was nice too

so you put him out of your mind that first night

but you kept seeing him on your walk home from work in the heat of the setting sun: always in the same spot, always sporting clothes that weren’t made for swimming

you saw him so much you were actually getting curious, some of your anger lessening, especially when you saw him picking up trash along the shoreline

It wasn’t until your day off that you finally spoke to him and by spoke you ran head first into him walking through the beachfront shops with your friends on your day off

he was surrounded by a group of friends with colorful hairstyles that were all laughing and playing around

you on the other hand were sporting your first non-customer service smile in weeks and you were holding a very precious cone of mint chocolate chip ice cream

Well you were holding it because now it was all over this boy’s shirt and you were mortified and grieving the loss of your ice cream

“oh my god, my ice cream” is the first and only thing out your mouth so maybe not mortified just grieving

Sure you should’ve said sorry but all your apologies had been used up on the customer that said you were mean for making her wait in line instead of cutting everyone after she said she couldn’t wait because it would give her acne

So EXCUSE you if you really wanted your ice cream on your day off

Caught up in your self righteous inner monologue about ice cream, you almost didn’t notice: “wait you’re the boy who’s always in the ocean at sundown?”

Oh wow he was much pretty in person and that was saying a lot because you had been admiring him from afar for far too long

“lol at least you don’t have to worry about washing your shirt since you’re hoping in later anyway”

Oh my god, you could smack yourself; why did you just say that, why did you just expose yourself as a stalker?

He let out a little laugh “and you’re the person on the seawall, nice to see you’re cute up close too. I’m Seonghwa”

“y/n” Wait did that actually work? Did you not scare him away? Did he know who you were too?

Did? He? Say? Cute?

“You should come down and talk to me next time”

his friends were oohing and aahing at him watching the awkward exchange, your friends were doing the same

And that you did, like clockwork he was down by in the ocean in the middle of the sunset while you were walking home from work

Only this time you didn’t just stop and look, you made your way down the stone stairs through the hot sand and to the edge of the beach.

God why was your work uniform all black? it was hotttt out here and you were sweating while this boy looked like a sculpture in front of you

his acid washed jeans sticking to his calves as he walked through the tide pools searching through the sand, his arms on display in the pastel tie dye cut off

“um hey Seonghwa” that’s the best you could conjure up, trying to get in a carefree position but careful not to put your backpack on the ground for fear you would never get the sand out

your non-slip work shoes = already ruined

“Y/n you came?” he stopped his search through the tide pools to smile up at you, nearly melting your customer service persona

“um yeah, sorry I just got off work though so I’m not really dressed from a swim” You looked down to your black slacks and black polo with the store logo on the upper left breast, god you shouldn’t have come maybe if you just slowly back away he won’t even notice you disappear

“That seems like the best reason to get in” there was a soft smile on his face as he pulled up a lump of seaweed mixed with some shells from the sand

“Maybe next time, find any good mementos?”

Only next time you don’t get in either but you did roll up your slacks, take your shoes off, and stick your feet in

He was right, it was much a much needed break to just relax in the cool water and this way you could help him find whatever he was looking for

It doesn’t stop there though, you get a little further into the water every night after work when you meet but never like he was the first night

you also learned a little more about him and him about you

He is here with a group of friends, they are spending their last summer together before some of them head off to college, some go overseas, and some are stuck in high school. They were here the whole summer working on one of the resorts and this was the only time he could get away from everyone for some peace

“So you invite me?” Peaceful, all you did was stomp around in my work clothes and be loud “I’m not sure I fit what you’re going for”

“Nah but I like having you here.”

after that you start to see him outside of the actually water too, once he is picking up the trash on the beach, once he is just laying on the sand watching the sunset

And every time you would make your way next to him and spend all night talking to him

So every year at the peak of tourist season, the locals throw a huge party on a section of the beach that only the locals know about

It’s a power move against the seasonals, one that you participate in every year. In fact you're dropped off some alcohol earlier in the week

Usually you go alone (read: with friends) but for some reason this year you invite Seonghwa, well more like you word vomited your invitation in a 10 minute long nervous ramble about beaches and parties while he smiled at you

normally you would cover your nervousness in a smirk with some sassy remarks but from some reason your stomach is fluttering too much this time, you can feel the nausea bubbling up

tense you throw in a quick "your friends can come too" then metaphorically smack yourself because you don't want his friends to come, you want to go with just him

this was supposed to be you confessing that your countless nights on the beach had kinda made your initial crush stronger but you messed it up

For your incessant rambles he responds with only a few words "Yeah that sounds fun"

"ok ok cool cool" nice save (oh my god you are actually acting like a middle schooler)

"But I don't think my friends can come, is that ok?"

"Oh yeah, um-" insert your nervous tick here- "i don't think my friends can come either so it'll just be us" cheesy smile

btw your friends could make it, they were there the whole time but you told them to stay away and they have not stopped teasing you about it since

the night of the party you meet in your normal place and your jaw drops to the floor like in those movies when the princess comes out wearing the ball gown and looking regal

Only seonghwa isn't a princess but he sure as hell is beautiful and who gave him the right to look like that because your heart momentarily stops before you finally breath some sense back in and hold yourself together

"Are you ready? It's a bit of a hike"

You spend the whole night talking, and maybe you're a little tipsy but only enough to give you a confidence boost and a looser tongue

nothing serious

Or at least you thought it was nothing serious but then you are prying into his life, asking some of the weirdest questions and finally "so why do you swim with your clothes on?"

Meanwhile this whole time he's been laughing at you, not the mean kind of way more like a "wow they really ramble a lot how cute"

"I don't know, normally I just don’t have my swimsuit and the water looks too beautiful to pass up"

"But if you do it every night then why don't you just pack ahead of time" *hiccup* nah jk but you might as well hiccup… maybe you should put that beer down before you embarrass yourself

"I don't know, if I bring my swimsuit everyone will want come with me and as much as I love my friends they're a little high energy" he let out a sweet laugh "speaking of them, I should probably admit…"

Oh god, what was wrong? Is this where you found out he was actually super creepy? Or like a murderer or something? Of course the cute ones always had to be the crazy ones, just your luck

"My friends aren't busy tonight I just said that because I didn't want them to come...”

Oh good not creepy at all (maybe you should stop watching dateline), that's what you did too

in fact your friends kept sending you snapchats of the both of you sitting by the bonfire talking

"I actually think one of them is here, he’s kinda hard to miss his hair is bright red"

Oh strawberry dude, you remembered seeing him wave when you first arrived (very confusing for a powerful tiny man who you had never seen wave at you)

But hold up, you're still caught up on the first thing he said, he wanted to come with you, just you. Did he?? like you??

"Do you like me?" Straight to the point, how in character for you

A rosy blush spread over his cheeks and down his neck and the confidence you had skyrocketed, that all but answered your question

and if that didn’t answer it then his little “ya” did

in a bout of confidence you grabbed him head and yanked him up from the lawn chairs by the crackling fire “Come on!”

"what are you doing?!" he replied, calling out as you dragged him toward the dark water, glowing in the light of the moon

Splashing through the water, you settled on a place where the waves lapped up against your waist like they had the first night you saw him, it didn’t even matter that the warm salty water was soaking through your clothes (don't think about your soaked shoes, don't think about your soaked shoes)

"I'm not sure but the water just looked too beautiful to pass up" cue cliche cheese and a signature smirk provided by you

"Haha don't make fun of me"

"Why not? It’s too much fun" you leaned in closer, your hand still wrapped in his “and anyway I like you too much to stop”

about twenty minutes later you opened a snapchat from your friends of you and Hwa kissing in the ocean and turned bright red

read hongjoong's and yunho's

#seonghwa imagines #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa au #wave au #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #ateez au

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barrysjumpsuit · 4 years

Text

the dark side - jj maybank x shoupe’s daughter, ch. 1

w/c: 1.9k

summary: catherine shoupe has the perfect life. when she gets hired by heyward to run groceries, she has a new coworker - jj maybank. as the deputy’s daughter, she can’t help but hate him. but when jj decides to bring her to the dark side and woo her over, cat not only has to hide her activities from her father, but also hide who she really is.

warnings: none for this chapter

a/n: i’m super excited for this! making it up as i go.... posting may be slightly delayed/irregular since i’m busy with working and moving but who knows i’ll probably waste my time and work on this more than i should

---

Cat’s feet and back ached, and the sun felt good on her cool skin as she stepped out of the overly air-conditioned grocery store she had been in since they opened that morning. She sat down on a bench in a shaded area between the store and a coffee shop, resting and enjoying her fifteen minute break.

The same thing. Every day, five days a week. Cat would be the opener for the grocery store, getting there at four in the morning and working until ten. It was smaller, a hippie fresh market type of place with fresh produce and organic products. Very Kook-y. It drew tourists and locals alike, as well as a bunch of people her age, working for grocery delivery services.

Morning shifts in the summer were nice because they drew more of the local crowd. The working class, like her, though still kooks. Moms grabbing their groceries after dropping their kids off at school, working professionals stopping by for premade sandwiches or donuts for their coworkers. That particular morning, her dad had stopped by for his own lunch and spent entirely too long chatting with her.

Cat enjoyed seeing people, asking them about plans for their days. She often suggested the best surfing spots and restaurants to the non-locals, while striking up easy conversations with the regulars that frequented the market in the mornings. After work she often took her brother out to the beach. It was her mission this summer to teach him how to surf. In the evenings, if her dad wasn’t working, she would help her mom cook dinner and they would have a big family meal. It was repetitive, but perfect and full of things and people she loved.

After her fifteen minute break was up, she went back inside, but her manager pulled her aside before she returned to her checking lane.

“Hey, Catherine, come see me in my office?” Mrs. Lee’s voice rang out.

There was a brief nervousness that made Cat’s stomach roll over, but it quickly vanished once she saw the smile on the store owner’s face. “So you know Heyward, right?”

“Of course,” she answered, smiling at the thought. She knew the man and his son well - they were always in and out, buying groceries for their customers. “He’s awesome. What about him?”

“He and I are partners now,” she continued, obviously excited about the development. “He’s looking to hire some new people to deliver groceries. I know you love being out on the water and talking to people, so I figured I’d ask to see if you were interested. It’ll come with a bump in your pay, too.”

“Yes!” she said, perhaps a little too eagerly. “I’m definitely interested. Does he want an interview?”

Mrs. Lee laughed. “He said if you were interested, you’re on board automatically. He knows you’re a good worker. I’ll call him and let him know and get back at you, okay?”

“Sounds good! Thanks, Mrs. Lee,” Cat said, smiling back at her before leaving her office.

Going back to her checking lane was almost bittersweet, knowing that lane three had been hers for almost two years. As soon as she flipped her light back on, a local came through, eagerly starting up a conversation and letting Cat know how his son was doing in the summer little league baseball series.

After she got off, she cranked the AC on in her car and began the drive home. The place was flooded with tourists, the summer season officially in full swing. She lived right off the main strip, which was fun and convenient, but could get annoying when anyone and everyone was there.

“Hey Cat!” her brother greeted her as she got home. He was sitting on the couch, watching TV.

“Hey Tyler! Want to go out for ice cream later?” she asked, and he nodded excitedly. “I’ll make us some lunch then we can go after that.”

“Okay!” she heard him respond as she jogged up the carpeted steps. She walked past her parent’s bedroom and then into hers, kicking off her shoes and changing into flowy shorts and a basic tee before going back downstairs to make lunch.

The rest of the day was pleasant and uneventful. After they ate lunch, she took Tyler to the ice cream place two blocks away. He got birthday cake while she got peppermint, enjoying the cool sensation on the hot day. They walked on the beach, her brother talking nonstop about the video game he was playing, while Cat smiled and faked listening.

She was really listening to the sound of the waves lapping at the store, and the voices of those who lounged on the beach. Some were playing in the ocean, some were playing games in the soft sand.

Her father was off work at six, so once they returned home, it wasn’t long until her mother got off work and they started prepping dinner. Cat’s mom was laid back, always smiling, which she loved. She left her work at the office, unlike her father.

Being the daughter of a sheriff’s deputy was odd. Cat didn’t mind it. There were rules in place, of course, but she hadn’t any urge to break them. There were people from her school out doing drugs and drinking most nights of the week, but Cat had never touched any of that. She had a curfew, but she didn’t really mind it.

Her dad got home right before dinner was ready. He pulled Cat towards him, kissing the top of her head before kissing her mom on the lips. “How are my ladies this evening?” he asked, grinning. A patch on his uniform read Shoupe in bold letters, and he was still fully clad in his uniform.

“Pretty good,” Cat answered, stirring the sauce that was simmering on the stove.

They made light conversation until her dad went to change out of his work clothes while Cat and her mom set the table and plated up dinner.

“How was work, Cat?” her dad asked when they were sat down and eating.

“It was good. The usual. But, I got a new job!”

“Oh?” her mom asked, taking a sip of wine and raising her eyebrows.

“Heyward and Mrs. Lee are working together now, and Heyward needs runners. So he wants me. I get a pay bump too.”

Cat was smiling, but it dropped when she saw her dad’s face. Her mom noticed too, casting him a glare, and he spoke. “That’s great, honey. But be careful, okay?”

She couldn’t help but roll her eyes. Her father hated her going near the Cut. Not that she had much reason or urge to, but she knew it could be rough down there. He often worked down there, on the south side of the island, and constantly told stories about shoplifting Pogues and underage drinking. “Dad, it’s Heyward’s. It’s basically Figure Eight.”

“I know, I’m just saying,” he said, raising his hands in surrender.

“Can you take me on the delivery boat sometime?” Tyler asked, luckily rerouting the conversation.

The issue was luckily dropped, but Cat still felt bad. She didn’t know why - she was seizing the opportunity, something her parents had always encouraged. Cat had been working ever since she was old enough. Her father always told her, a good work ethic is the most important thing you can have. They were urging her to save up for college, and now she was essentially being promoted.

Mrs. Lee had texted her during dinner. Heyward wants you to start tomorrow! Meet him at 9, wear whatever you want.

She responded to the text before settling down in bed with a book. At ten, before she went to bed, her father stepped into her room after knocking softly on her door.

“Hey, dad,” she said, and he walked over to sit on her bed. Cat pulled her feet up to give him some room and put her book down on her nightstand.

“I’m happy for you, Cat,” he said, smiling at her. “Just be careful, okay? With all the boat traffic now and going everywhere… Heyward’s a good guy. I trust him.”

“I will, dad. You know me. I grew up on the water.”

He smiled again. “Yeah, you did. Have fun tomorrow, okay? Good night.”

“G’night, dad,” she said as her father stood and left the room.

---

Cat woke up early, not used to getting to sleep in since she usually was at the grocery store before dawn. Her parents had already left for work, leaving Tyler in front of the TV as normal. She made a smoothie before changing into shorts and a t-shirt.

“Bye, Ty!” she called as she left the house at 8:30, closing the back door behind her before heading to her car.

It was about a 20 minute drive to Heyward’s from her house. When she got there, she quickly located him on the dock, filling a gas can. As she stepped onto the dock, he gave her a wave, and quickly hurried over.

Heyward gave her an impromptu ‘training’. How to read the orders, how to use the boat’s navigation. It was simple, and she knew most of the people who had put in orders for that day. “Right now I have two people who shop and two of you who run and deliver together, each day,” he was explaining. “Here’s your work shirt, I don’t give a damn what pants you wear as long as your ass isn’t hangin’ out.”

He thrust three t-shirts of different colors towards her, each with the Heyward’s logo printed on it before taking her into the office to discuss her pay and scheduling. Since she was already in the system, it went by quickly, and she ran her printed schedule to her car and slipped into her new work shirt before returning to the dock.

“There’s those sons of bitches getting back now,” he said, waving at two people who stood on a white boat pulling up to dock. “Catherine, go ahead and start carrying over the groceries in the cooler over there, time for your first run.”

She went inside the small building and started pulling bags out of the ice, full of produce and goods from her store. She noticed Heyward’s son, Pope, standing on the boat, and he held out his hands to take the bags from her to load.

“You working here now?” he asked, and she nodded. Cat had always liked Pope; they went to the same school until high school. He was quiet and witty, which she appreciated, and they had even sat together at lunch one year.

As soon as she finished handing Pope the groceries, she took his outstretched hand and climbed onto the boat.

“Hey Catherine!” she heard Heyward call. She turned to see him, grinning at her. “These are your new coworkers. Have fun.”

Pope grinned at her, but Heyward said coworkers. Plural.

A blond boy came into her line of sight, smirking. Cat’s heart sank as she recognized who it was, and she considered getting off the boat, but couldn’t bring herself to move or speak. It was someone she hadn’t seen in quite a while, and she was okay with that.

JJ was the first to speak up, his voice smooth and cocky. “Hey, kitty Cat, long time, no see.”

---

taglist: @letsgofullkook @stargazingstarkey @sortagaysortahigh @jjsmentalpolaroids @ims0golden @jjmaybcnks @shawnssongs @queenk00k @broken-jj

#jj maybank #outer banks #obx #outer banks fanfiction #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank fanfiction #deputy shoupe #daddy shoupe

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artificialqueens · 3 years

Text

The Parent Trap, Chapter 8 (Biadore) - Henny

WELL WELL WELL I hope you bitches are ready!

Hello, my loves!

Did you miss me? That was a loOOooooOoNg hiatus, almost *holds up three fingers* this many,I think. I have no excuses, I really just lacked the passion to continue this one. But, I’ve been lurking on Tumblr too long and I’m just so ready to get back into this. I have most of it plotted out already. I won’t promise a regular update, but I’m sure I’d get to finish this one way or another.

ALSO, I don’t want to get clocked or whatever, but I know when it comes to IVF and basic biology (I guess) The twins aren’t going to be identical since they’re from two separate sperm cells?? BUT, LIKE ALSO, I DON’T CARE?? It’s fanfiction, not fact. SO LET’S JUST SAY THESE GIRLS ARE IDENTICAL, BUT ONE OF EM IS DANNY’S AND ONE OF EM ROY’S (BUT YOU WON’T REALLY FIND OUT). Just please don’t make me think about science-y stuff. Sorry, STEM Majors!

Another thing, assume AS2 didn’t happen, okey?

All the love, Hennies!

xx Henny

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“Well… well… well… I hope you bitches are ready… “ Nerissa smiles, excited to meet Portia’s favorite. And when the screen shows her a face that is all too familiar and a voice that hits a little too close to home,

“I’m Bianca Del Rio, I’m thirty-seven years old…”

She pales.

Portia notices the quick change of mood. She reaches out to press the spacebar to pause the video, a little upset with the fact that they won’t get to finish the episode. The other girl is silent as she moves from Portia’s bed to her own, and something within Portia knew that Nerissa was in her head, deeply in her head. Not wanting to force the girl into anything she wasn’t comfortable with, Portia fiddles with the edge of her laptop with her head down.

Nerissa can feel the blood draining from her face. Some things were clicking into place. Her dad was a drag queen. Was Riz surprised? Not really. She has seen her dad put makeup on some models, not full-drag, but glam nonetheless. The dresses? Obviously. But, why didn’t HE tell HER? Anger rises in her system, she wanted to scream but something was holding her back. Her and her dad were always so close, and she’d like to believe that he didn’t have any secrets from her. Except that one room in their home. HMMM.

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A memory unlocks in her head. Age 7, finally mustering up the courage to rebel against her dad’s instructions,specifically about the one room in their apartment her dad said to never go in. It was always kept locked, except Uncle Shane accidentally left it unlocked that fruitful day. Nerissa remembers sneaking in, both adults thinking she was taking a nap. When she turned the lights on, her eyes were met with different colors. Sparkly, colorful, sequined dresses; Tall boots and heels; wigs of blacks, browns, and reds neatly perched on mannequin heads. It was beautiful and excitement bubbled up in her tummy. She walked over to a wall that was filled with picture frames; some people in them she knew, the others she didn’t.

One thing that struck her the most was a portrait that was nearly as big as her then-7-year-old body in the middle of the wall, the chandelier breaking the light in a myriad of colors on the photograph. The picture was of two beautiful queens, a little heavy handed on the makeup, now that she thinks about it. The two ladies wore beautiful black gowns, she would even assume that it was cut from the same fabric. The one with black hair wore a giant crown on her head, smiling a dimpled smile with her face to the spotlight. The other had fire red hair; she looked like she was screaming with joy as she lifted a sparkly scepter up in the air. They had one arm around the other’s waist and they looked very happy. She didn’t think much about it then, but…

“That was Bianca… and oh my god– that was Adore.” Nerissa says out of the blue, catching Portia’s attention from the other side of the room.

“I’m sorry what?” Portia asks, leaning closer to indicate that she was listening carefully now and that Riz had her full attention.

“Back in New York, my dad… he always kept this room locked. I only went there once, but he got really mad when he caught me.”

Portia moves to sit on Nerissa’s bed. “Yeah, okay… but you said something about my dad. What about Adore?”

“In that room,” Nerissa licks her lips, speaking slowly to help her rationalize her story in her head better. “… and I’m not sure if it’s still there. There was a picture of my dad as Bianca, and I think Adore. My dad wore a crown and Adore was holding the scepter.” She says thoughtfully. “Wow, spoiler alert. Ha!” She tries to joke, but now Portia looks at her with a shocked face.

“Wait, YOUR DAD IS BIANCA DEL RIO?! LIKE YOU’RE NERISSA HAYLOCK?? HAYLOCK?!?! AS IN ROY HAYLOCK?”

Nerissa blinks. “I thought you knew – how many Haylocks do you know?”

Portia blanches. “I DIDN’T WANT TO ASSUME! Roy Haylock has always been very hush-hush about you. You don’t even appear on social media, so you can’t really blame me. And my hatred for you, then, really blinded me. Sorry again, by the way. WAIT, LET ME JUST FANGIRL FOR A MINUTE.” Portia grabs a pillow and lets out a giddy scream.

Nerissa lets out a soft laugh before rolling her eyes playfully. “ANYWAY! FOCUS!! So, as I was saying, my dad has a picture of Bianca and Adore during, what I assume was, the coronation in his super secret closet.”

“Wait… but– No… no… that can’t be.” Portia says once she gets to calm her erratic heartbeat. “Bianca won season 6, I don’t think a photo like that photo exists– unless–” She stops talking abruptly and runs to her laptop. Nerissa watches her type furiously, obviously looking for something. When Portia finds it, she makes her way back to her position earlier.

“Look, see” Portia redirects Nerissa’s attention to the laptop’s screen. It was under a folder called “conspiracy theories” and from Riz’s point-of-view it was nothing but screenshots from Tumblr or twitter. “Back then, during their time, it was rumored that Bianca and Adore had filmed an ending where they both won–like they shared it. “

“Did you really search this about your dad?”

“YES! Now, pay attention” Portia huffs, brushing her hair back. “I don’t have more proof though because apparently the receipts back then were trashed when people started losing interest in Season 6 because we’re like in its, I don’t know like, 1000th season now. Then suddenly, when Bianca said she was quitting drag for good, more people deleted stuff about Bianca to respect her wishes then full-blast supported Roy in his fashion career.”

“Wait– wait, Bianca quit drag? Why?”

“Well, people started speculating that it was probably for his daugh–” Portia stops mid sentence, looking at Nerissa’s sudden sad face sheepishly. “Hey, don’t feel bad!”

“He was so happy, Porsche! I may not remember the picture’s every detail, but he was so happy being Bianca. Did you see the way she smiled the minute she walked in the werkroom? You mean to tell me I did that??”

“No, that’s just one of the speculations, really.”

“What were the others?”

“Retirement, boredom… to name a few. One thing I found interesting, but I highly doubt is that people said it was because of Adore.” Portia snorts as she mindlessly scrolls to her photos on her laptop. Nerissa observes her for a bit, before asking;

“How come?”

“If you’re talking about why people thought Adore was involved; that’s because before Bianca quit drag, her and Adore were really close. As in, super close, they were always seen or spotted together. When Bianca did quit, there was complete radio silence from Adore. They cut all communications on social media. Then people saw that they unfollowed each other and whatnot, PLUS they also found it odd that Roy was still talking to Courtney and would go to support local drag scenes, but would completely cop out if Adore was in any shape/form involved.” Portia explains, and Nerissa notes the hints of sadness in her voice.

“Makes sense to me, so then why do you doubt it?” Nerissa’s head tilts slightly as she watches Portia put her laptop on the bed. Her eyes then drift to the mirror that’s adjacent to the side of her bed and stares intently at their reflection.

“Well, for starters, if it ever happened, my dad would tell me. He knows that I absolutely adore Bianca, so I think if they ever had a relationship; he would let me know. It is weird though how he doesn’t really like talking about her. He’d just smile and shrug, so maybe there was a falling out or a fight.” Portia narrates, her sadness becoming a little more apparent.

Nerissa hums, in deep thought. A pregnant pause lingers in the air. With her curiosity getting the best of her, Nerissa asks out of the blue;

“Hey, Portia?”

“Yeah?"

"Did your dad adopt you?"

Portia looks at Nerissa as if she’s grown another head, which coming from her is ironic in itself.

"Well, no, but it’s kind of complicated. My dad was actually married in the past. He would tell me that they tried both fertilized eggs and hoped for the best. Nine months later, I was born and up until today, he doesn’t know if I was his or his ex’s biological baby, but he loves me nonetheless.”

“But won’t you look predominantly like one though?”

“Yeah, I look like my egg donor who looks eerily like my dad.” Portia pauses, head tilted.

“Aren’t you a little curious which one’s your biological dad?” Nerissa continues to probe. If things lined up correctly, Nerissa knew the both of them were going to be thrown into a loop. Portia thinks for a while, considering the idea, before her face contorts with distaste.

“Nah, he never really cared for me in the beginning, so why should I bother now? Even if I was his biologically, he didn’t raise me. He’s just a sperm donor to me, if ever. Why’d you ask anyway?“

"Because I refuse to play stupid when it’s so obvious that we’re twins.” Nerissa exclaims with such vigor, Portia nearly fell over the bed in surprise. ”Can’t you see how identical we look?"

"But…”

“No, no! Don’t try to deny it. I know there’s this whole theory about at least 5 people in the world looking like you–but not like this! Especially not when we basically have the same story growing up!” Nerissa is shaking as she stands to retrieve a picture in her bag; the very same frame she showed her friends her first day in the camp. She traced the edges of the frame before following the lines of her sleeping dad’s face. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?' She thinks inwardly, willing the man in the photo for an answer.

“Riz, I think this is too much of a stretch. Our dads would’ve told us if it was something this serious. And our childhood couldn’t be that similar! And, even if–IF we were siblings; I wasn’t born a twin.”

“Oh yeah? When’s your birthday?”

“January 12.”

“Same here. I’m turning 11, you’re turning 11, too, right?. I’m telling you… It makes sense! My dad ALSO said he had a partner a long time ago and like you; I don’t know who my biological father is because I could be my dad’s or his ex! And, to be honest, I really don’t care to know at this point, but it all lines up!” Riz gets flustered now, there’s a funny feeling in her tummy as Portia still looks at her with an unreadable expression on her face.

“And my dad said I looked mostly egg donor too, but he always says that he can see the things that remind him that I’m his or his partner’s– ex partner .” Nerissa finishes, plopping down to sit beside Portia who was still silent. “Well… what do you think? Say something!” She urges, almost pleadingly.

“So… you mean to tell me…”

“Yeah?” Nerissa prompts, watching the girl add things up in her head and the growing realization dawn on her face.

“BIADORE WAS REAL?!?!” Portia screeches with excitement before Nerissa hits her with a pillow.

“UGhhhhhhH!” Nerissa groans, “Can you stop thinking about drag race? This is bigger than us now. BUT, IN HINDSIGHT, YES! I genuinely believe that my dad and your dad used to be together, and they were probably the “ex” in our birth stories.”

“How are we twins with different dads though?” Portia asks once she calms down again.

“It’s possible. I read about it once, it’s like what happened with Neil Patrick Harris and his partner. They had a surrogate accept both eggs, so they had twins. Theirs was fraternal though, and seeing how identical we are– I’m guessing we’re a pretty special case of science and sheer luck.” Nerissa sighs, then sadly adds “It’s kinda annoying how they didn’t tell us. It’s one thing to divorce each other, but to raise kids and hiding a part of their truth? I think it’s cruel.”

“No… It kinda makes sense to me.” Portia says after a few minutes of silence and letting the question linger in the air. “My dad didn’t tell me about you… about how I was a twin because he knew…” she continues to say, breath slow and soft, almost wavering. Tears slowly fill her eyes as she looks at her twin in front of her, “He knew if he told me about you, I would go looking for you. I- I would’ve done everything to meet my sister because I’ve always wanted a sister.” She sniffles, her hand reaching out to grasp the other girl’s hand. “And now I have one” Portia pulls Nerissa in for a hug.

They let the tears flow; tears of confusion, anger, frustration, joy, and love. They murmured their “sorry”; “it’s okay”; “I’ll still fight you when it comes to boys though”; and “Nah, don’t worry, I don’t even like boys…”

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When sobs turned to sniffles and feelings were pacified by food and other words of affirmation, they found themselves nestled on the ground between their bed frames with their mattress and heaps of pillows and blankets surrounding them.

“We still have a few weeks in here, what do you want to do till then?” Portia asks as she stuffs another cookie down her throat. Nerissa lifts a leg up nonchalantly in the air before dramatically dropping it to Portia’s side of the bed.

“Well, I still have more episodes of season 6 to go, right?” She proposes, making Portia smile with excitement. Portia, then, scrambles to get her laptop and plop back down to their little nest.

“Ready to see my dad kick your dad’s ass?” Portia taunts as she hovers to play Episode 2 from where the left off.

“Yeah, as if…”

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Los Angeles, California. 9PM.

Adore sat in front of the mirror, already cinched and dressed, 30 minutes before she was supposed to go on. She had arrived at least an hour before call time, something she had picked up when her and Bianca used to go to gigs together. She rolls her eyes at the memory, mostly due to her annoyance with herself. She knew deep down that she should’ve moved on; it’s been years. But, can you really blame her? You never forget your greatest love and your most painful heartbreak; it was rare for both storylines to be the same person. Because, who in their right mind let’s their greatest love go? Adore did; Danny did. She lets out a few lip thrills to recompose herself and blinks away at the tears threatening to ruin her makeup.

Her phone rings; without looking at the contact, she answers it with a few sniffles.

“Hello?” Adore drawls while grabbing a tissue across the table and dab it slowly under her eyes and her nose.

“Adore, darling!” Ru’s voice rings loudly across the speakers. Adore can hear him talk to someone in the background, but their conversation couldn’t be heard from her end.

“Hi, Ru…” She tries to mask the surprise in her voice. She knew the RuPaul didn’t make social calls UNLESS it was a big social event. If there’s one reason, one reason at all, Ru could be calling it’s…

“Hey, baby, I just wanted to call you myself since this might be a big favor to ask you…”

–that.

“Of course, Mama, what is it?” Adore was barely listening at this point, trying to come up with excuses already.

“Well, would you be interested in joining the first all-stars: battle of the winners in place of Bianca?”

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PREVIOUS CHAPTERS:

TAGS Biadore, Bianca Del Rio, Adore Delano, Courtney Act, Parent Trap AU, Henny, Family, Slowburn

WELL WELL WELL I hope you bitches are ready!

Hello, my loves!

ALSO, I don’t want to get clocked or whatever, but I know when it comes to IVF and basic biology (Iguess) The twins aren’t going to be identical since they’re from two separate sperm cells?? BUT, LIKE ALSO, I DON’T CARE?? It’s fanfiction, not fact. SO LET’S JUST SAY THESE GIRLS ARE IDENTICAL, BUT ONE OF EM IS DANNY’S AND ONE OF EM ROY’S (BUT YOU WON’T REALLY FIND OUT). Just please don’t make me think about science-y stuff. Sorry, STEM Majors!

Another thing, assume AS2 didn’t happen, okey?

All the love, Hennies!

Xxx Henny

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“I’m Bianca Del Rio, I’m thirty-seven years old…”

She pales.

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“That was Bianca… and oh my god– that was Adore.” Nerissa says out of the blue, catching Portia’s attention from the other side of the room.

“I’m sorry what?” Portia asks, leaning closer to indicate that she was listening carefully now and that Riz had her full attention.

“Back in New York, my dad… he always kept this room locked. I only went there once, but he got really mad when he caught me.”

Portia moves to sit on Nerissa’s bed. “Yeah, okay… but you said something about my dad. What about Adore?”

“Wait, YOUR DAD IS BIANCA DEL RIO?! LIKE YOU’RE NERISSA HAYLOCK?? HAYLOCK?!?! AS IN ROY HAYLOCK?”

Nerissa blinks. “I thought you knew – how many Haylocks do you know?”

“Did you really search this about your dad?”

“Wait– wait, Bianca quit drag? Why?”

“Well, people started speculating that it was probably for his daugh–” Portia stops mid sentence, looking at Nerissa’s sudden sad face sheepishly. “Hey, don’t feel bad!”

“No, that’s just one of the speculations, really.”

“What were the others?”

“How come?”

Nerissa hums, in deep thought. A pregnant pause lingers in the air. With her curiosity getting the best of her, Nerissa asks out of the blue;

"Hey, Portia?”

“Yeah?"

"Did your dad adopt you?"

Portia looks at Nerissa as if she’s grown another head, which coming from her is ironic in itself.

"Well, no, but it’s kind of complicated. My dad was actually married in the past. He would tell me that they tried both fertilized eggs and hoped for the best. Nine months later, I was born and up until today he doesn’t know if I was his or his ex’s biological baby, but he loves me nonetheless.”

“But won’t you look predominantly like one though?”

“Yeah, I look like my egg donor who looks eerily like my dad.” Portia pauses, head tilted.

“Nah, he never really cared for me in the beginning, so why should I bother now? Even if I was his, biologically, he didn’t raise me. He’s just a sperm donor to me, if ever. Why’d you ask anyway?“

"But…”

“No, no! Don’t try to deny it. I know there’s this whole theory about at least 5 people in the world looking like you–but not like this! Especially not when we basically have the same story growing up!” Nerissa is shaking as she stands to retrieve a picture in her bag;the very same frame she showed her friends her first day in the camp. She traced the edges of the frame before following the lines of her sleeping dad’s face. 'Why didn’t you tell me?' She thinks inwardly, willing the man in the photo for an answer.

“Oh yeah? When’s your birthday?”

“January 12.”

“Same here. I’m turning 11, you’re turning 11. I’m telling you… It makes sense! My dad ALSO said he had a partner a long time ago and like you; I don’t know who my biological father is because I could be my dad’s or his ex! And, to be honest, I really don’t care to know at this point, but it all lines up!” Riz gets flustered now, there’s a funny feeling in her tummy as Portia still looks at her with an unreadable expression on her face.

“So… you mean to tell me…”

“Yeah?” Nerissa prompts, watching the girl add things up in her head and the growing realization dawn on her face.

“BIADORE WAS REAL?!?!” Portia screeches with excitement before Nerissa hits her with a pillow.

“How are we twins with different dads though?” Portia asks once she calms down again.

“It’s possible. I read about it once, it’s like what happened with Neil Patrick Harris and his partner. They had a surrogate accept both eggs, so they had twins. Theirs was fraternal though, and seeing how identical we are– I’m guessing we’re a pretty special case of science and sheer luck.” Nerissa sighs, “It’s kinda annoying how they didn’t tell us though. It’s one thing to divorce each other, but to raise kids and hiding a part of their truth? I think it’s cruel.”

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“Well, I still have more episodes of season 6 to go, right?” She proposes, making Portia smile with excitement. Portia, then, scrambles to get her laptop and plop back down to their little nest.

“Ready to see my dad kick your dad’s ass?” Portia taunts as she hovers to play Episode 2 from where the left off.

“Yeah, as if…”

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Los Angeles, California. 9PM.

Her phone rings; without looking at the contact, she answers it with a few sniffles.

“Hello?” Adore drawls while grabbing a tissue across the table and dab it slowly under her eyes and her nose.

“Adore, darling!” Ru’s voice rings loudly across the speakers. Adore can hear him talk to someone in the background, but their conversation couldn’t be heard from her end.

“Hey, baby, I just wanted to call you myself since this might be a big favor to ask you…”

–that.

“Of course, Mama, what is it?” Adore was barely listening at this point, trying to come up with excuses already.

“Well, would you be interested in joining the first all-stars: battle of the winners in place of Bianca?”

#rpdr fanfiction #biadore #bianca del rio #adore delano #original child characters #canon compliant #parenting au #parent trap au #the parent trap #henny

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paralleljulieverse · 4 years

Photo

An Angel from Heaven Come to See Us: Darling Lili Turns 50

This week fifty years ago, Darling Lili -- the last of the big Julie Andrews screen musicals of the 1960s -- had its long-delayed World Premiere at Hollywood’s Cinerama Dome on 23 June 1970.

The event marked the symbolic endpoint of a three-plus-year marathon in which the ill-fated production was beset by an endless stream of problems and delays from inclement weather and union pickets on location to studio takeovers and shady refinancing deals (Bart, 63-72; Dick, 146-48; Wasson, 146-48). This litany of setbacks saw the film’s already sizeable budget blowout to era-record levels estimated anywhere, depending on who you spoke to, between $14-25mill. (Warga, C-20; Wedman, 7-A; Kennedy, 175-77). Egos clashed, tempers frayed and recriminations flew with writer-director, Blake Edwards, blaming Paramount Pictures for imposing impossible demands, and studio executives firing back counter-accusations of reckless indulgence and profligacy (Oldham, 24-25; 44-45).

That this highly publicised drama played out against the backdrop of the greatest economic downturn to hit Hollywood in half a century garnered Darling Lili an unenviable advance reputation as “the archetypal flop among big budget Hollywood productions” (Oldham, 44). “Rarely has so much bad word of mouth preceded a picture,” wrote the Saturday Review, “As the shooting schedule increased, as the costs mounted, everyone was certain that Darling Lili would prove to be a landmark disaster” (Knight 22). Another widely syndicated newspaper article dubbed it, “The Most Maligned Movie Ever,” prompting Blake Edwards to fume: “I’ve never known of an important picture in production so talked about, whispered about, and, yes, lied about as Darling Lili” (Manners, B5).

Adding fuel to widespread perceptions of the film as a legendary bomb in the making, the release of Darling Lili was held up for over a year by nervous studio execs. By 1969, Paramount had more big budget roadshow product in the pipelines than any other Hollywood studio (“Par’s Big”, 3). Panicked by the repeated failure of roadshow releases, in general, and the growing cultural backlash against big budgeted musicals, in particular, the studio feared they were “on the verge of an unprecedented financial disaster” and vacillated over how to proceed (Farber, 3). They ordered competing rounds of edits to the film, taking material out to secure a G-rating, then reinserting other material in an effort to broaden appeal (Manners, B5; “Par’s Lili Rated G”,5). There were even rumours the film might not get a release at all. It is “hiding somewhere” and seems to have “just evaporated” noted one newspaper report in late-1969 (Gussow, 62; Benchley, 9).

In December, Paramount finally held two sneak test screenings of Darling Lili in Oklahoma City and Kansas City which proved sufficiently positive for the studio to green-light release (“Kansas”, C2). After the test screenings, Robert Evans, production chief at Paramount and longtime vocal critic of Blake Edwards’s direction of the film, sounded an uncharacteristically upbeat note. “At the end of the film, there was a standing ovation,” he enthused, “and almost all the patrons stopped in the lobby to fill in comments cards...term[ing] Darling Lili as excellent, with special acclaim for both Julie Andrews and Rock Hudson” (Muir, 2-S).

In January 1970, it was announced that Darling Lili would premiere that summer as a hardticket attraction at New York’s Radio City Music Hall (”Par Gets”, 3). The following month, a series of exhibitor previews was held in five major US cities but, in a telling sign the studio still harboured reservations about the film, the trade press was pointedly excluded from all advance screenings ("Not Ready”, 6). This same lingering disquiet resulted in a radically scaled back approach to the film’s release and marketing.

Originally planned as a reserved-seat roadshow attraction, Darling Lili was ultimately repositioned by Paramount as part of what they called their “Big Summer Playoff,” a package of eight films given saturation releases during the summer off-season starting in June (“Paramount’s Summer Playoff”, 5). Only New York and Los Angeles would screen the film as a 70mm reserved-seat attraction; elsewhere, the plan was for the “pic to quickly saturate every major and minor market with single-house firstruns and key city multiples” (ibid.). In an era when studios typically gave their top films staggered releases and only ever issued B-product or second-runs widely during the quiet summer months, this new-style release strategy had a decided air of dump-it-and-run desperation.

The apparent lack of care and finesse in the release of Lili did not go unnoticed. “Darling Lili undoubtedly rank[s] among the unusual summer attractions,” commented one newspaper article, “since one would expect to see th[is] multi-million dollar production around holiday time” (Sar, 4-B). Another bluntly opined that Paramount “seems to have dumped the expensive movie rather than spend any more on it” (Taylor, 21-E). Even Julie, normally the soul of diplomatic discretion in such matters, expressed public dismay at the studio’s handling of the film’s release:

“Three weeks before the opening, there was no advertising campaign. None whatsoever. Paramount didn’t seem to know how it was going to sell the picture--or if. I simply can’t understand an attitude like that” (Thomas, 13).

The sudden shift to a summer saturation release also meant the film’s premiere had to be rescheduled as New York’s Radio City Music Hall wasn’t available till July. In late-May, a matter of mere weeks before the film was set to bow, Paramount announced Darling Lili would now make its world premiere at the Cinerama Dome in Hollywood on June 23 before rolling out nationwide the following day (“‘Darling Lili’ to Premiere,” W-2). The New York premiere, meanwhile, would remain at the Music Hall but delayed a full month after the rest of the country.

Putting on a brave face, Julie and Blake did their best to launch their film. On June 18, they attended a special press preview and celebrity reception hosted by Robert Evans and his then partner, Ali McGraw, at the Director’s Guild Theatre (Sar, 24-A). Dressed in a modish psychedelic Pucci pantsuit -- which fans of Julie-trivia will note was a recycled outfit from her recent NBC TV special with Harry Belafonte -- Julie looked relaxed and radiant or, as one columnist put it, “peachy dandy in her wild patterned party pants” (Browning, 2-13). At the after-show reception, she and Blake mingled warmly with a host of Tinseltown notables including Edward G. Robinson, James Garner, Walter Matthau, George Peppard, Raquel Welch, Sally Field, Dyan Cannon, and Peter Graves (ibid).

The following week, Julie and Blake were back for the premiere proper at the Cinerama Dome on 23 June. Dressed to kill in a sleek beaded cocktail gown, Julie posed for press shots on the red carpet with Blake, Robert Evans and Ali McGraw, and co-star Rock Hudson who attended with longtime friend and agent, Flo Allen. Sponsored by the Southern Californian chapter of VIMS, Volunteers in Multiple Sclerosis, the premiere attracted a capacity crowd with an invitation-only champagne supper held at the theatre after the screening (“Premiere”, IV-8) .

For all the old-school Hollywood trappings of the premiere, the American roll-out of Darling Lili was afforded little sense of showmanship or distinction. The Cinerama Dome would be the film’s only fully reserved-seat roadshow presentation (“’Darling Lili’s’ One Reserve,” 7). The film’s run at New York’s Radio City Music Hall -- which will likely be the subject of another post next month, time permitting -- was another exception but it had a hybrid mix of partial reserved and general admission. Elsewhere, the film was released in what could only be described as a woefully slipshod manner.

The day after the World Premiere, Lili was issued simultaneously to an idiosyncratic assortment of theatres and even drive-ins across the United States including such out-of-the-way places as Lubbock, Texas; Hattiesburg, Mississippi; and Mason City, Iowa. Conversely, several major metropolitan markets didn’t get the film till much later, and some didn’t show it at all. When the film ran it was often booked for a flying season of a week or two -- in some instances, just a few days -- and given little promotion or build-up.

On a PR trip to San Francisco, Blake Edwards was reportedly incensed to discover that Lili was being shown at a local theatre on a double-bill with The Lawyer, an R-rated crime drama (Caen, 6-B). But this was far from an isolated instance. A survey of newspaper advertising from the era shows that, throughout this initial release period, Darling Lili was widely double-billed in US theatres with a range of questionable screen-mates including Downhill Racer, True Grit, Norwood, The Sterile Cuckoo, and Lady in Cement to name a few.

Much like the film’s chequered release pattern, reviews of Darling Lili were sharply mixed. Contrary to the apocalyptic predictions, though, there were surprisingly few outright pans and quite a number of good, even glowing, notices--certainly enough to furnish choice grabs for newspaper ads. Moreover, a common refrain among even lukewarm crits was that the film was far from the disaster everyone anticipated:

“Darling Lili [is] the musical comedy a lot of people have been expecting to be a bomb, but which turns out to be a quite likeable movie” (Crittenden, D-10).

“When a movie becomes notorious like this, everyone expects it to be an unredeeming dud...I’m relieved to say Darling Lili is certainly nobody’s bomb” (Stewart, 28)

“[E]veryone was certain that Darling Lili would prove to be a landmark disaster. Happily, the opposite seems to be the case...it is definitely, joyously, what the industry likes to call an ‘audience picture’ (Knight, 22).

While many reviewers found aspects of the film wanting, they were mostly full of praise for Julie:

“Miss Andrews has, I think, never looked better, warmer or more emotionally mature, nor has she sounded better. The irony is that she projects a richness which is wasted here. It’s like getting Horowitz to play Chopsticks” (Champlin, IV-1).

“Andrews...is one of the last of the great English music-hallmarks. She can sing effortlessly, make a mug or a moue with equal facility, throw away a line and reel it back in with the best—when she is given half a chance. Her latest, Darling Lili, is only a quarter of a chance (Kanfer, 78).

“In Darling Lili...Julie Andrews is the most pleasant actress any audience ever had and that’s what counts...The picture’s weaknesses are Hudson and the war...But I think Julie Andrews is enough” (Geurink, 6-T).

“The best way to enjoy Darling Lili is to look upon it as escape fare [with] Miss Andrews’ golden voice for listening pleasure...While she deserves something much better than her role in Darling Lili, Julie Andrews...is still an out and out professional” (Blakley, 6-1).

“Miss Andrews...is absolutely perfectly suited to the title role. Her voice, her mannerisms, her beauty and her obvious delight with the entire project pay off in one of the finest performances of her career” (Fanning, 17).

“The film’s bright moments belong to Miss Andrews. She is a complete entertainer, and tho [sic] she is center stage for nearly the entire film, one never tires of her pure voice and intelligent acting” (Siskel, 12).

Alas, the better-than-expected reviews were not enough to save Darling Lili commercially. By the end of its domestic run, the film had earned a meagre $3.2mill in rentals, placing it 37th in Variety’s list of annual box-office rankings for 1970 (“US Films,” 184). Instructively, the film posted its best returns at the two theatres where it was exhibited with some modicum of prestige showmanship: the Cinerama Dome and Radio City Music Hall. In the case of the latter, Lili actually broke house records for a non-holiday release (“Radio City,” 12). Combined, these two venues accounted for over a third of the film’s entire North American boxoffice grosses. It’s a curious footnote to the whole sorry saga of Darling Lili which does suggest that, while the film would likely never have been a hit, it could certainly have done much better had its distribution and exhibition been more carefully managed. But that is a discussion for another time and another post...

Sources:

Bart, Peter. Infamous Players: A Tale of Movies, the Mob (and Sex). New York: Hachette, 2011.

Benchley, Peter. “1969 A Watershed Year for Motion Picture Industry.” Journal Gazette. 6 January 1970: 9.

Blakley, Thomas. “Julie Andrews Eyes a New Start.” Pittsburgh Press. 28 June 1970: 6-1.

Browning, Norma Lee. “Hollywood Today: Julie’s Reception.” Chicago Tribune. 22 June 1970: B-13.

Caen, Herb. “It’s News to Me.” Hartford Sentinel. 5 August 1970: 6-B.

Canby, Vincent. “Is Hollywood in Hot Water?” New York Times. 9 November 1969: D1, D37.

Champlin, Charles. “Movie Review: ‘Darling Lili’ Has World War I Setting.” Los Angeles Times. 24 June 1970: IV-1, 13.

Crittenden, John. “’Darling Lili’ Surprises by Being Very Pleasant.” The Record. 24 July 1970: D-10.

“’Darling Lili’ to Premiere in Hollywood June 24.” Boxoffice. 25 May 1970: W2.

“’Darling Lili’s’ One Reserve Seat Date.” Variety. 3 June 1970: 7.

Dick, Bernard F. Engulfed: The Death of Paramount Pictures and the Birth of Corporate Hollywood. Louisville, KY: University of Kentucky Press, 2015.

Fanning, Win. “The New Film: Andrews, Hudson in ‘Darling Lili’ at Squirrel Hill.” Pittsburgh Post-Gazette. 25 June 1970: 17.

Farber, Stephen. “End of the Road?” Film Quarterly. 23: 2. Winter 1969-70: 3-16.

Geurink, Bob. “Julie’s Pretty Darling in ‘Lili’.” Atlanta Constitution. 11 July 1970: 6-T.

Gussow, Mel. “Excitement Fills Premier of ‘Dolly’: But Air of Festivity Belies Future of Movie Musicals.” New York Times. 18 December 1969: 62.

Higham, Charles. “Turmoil in Film City.” Sydney Morning Herald - Weekend Magazine. 25 May 1969: 19.

Holston, Kim R. Movie Roadshows: A History and Filmography of Reserved-Seat Limited Showings, 1911-1973. Jefferson, NC: McFarlane and Co, 2013.

Kanfer, Stefan. “Cinema: Quarter Chance.” Time. 96: 4. 27 July 1970: 78.

“Kansas City.” Boxoffice. 22 December 1969: C2.

Knight, Arthur. “How Darling was My Lili.” Saturday Review. 18 July, 1970: 22.

Krämer, Peter. The New Hollywood: From Bonnie and Clyde to Star Wars. London: Wallflower, 2005.

Manners, Dorothy. “The Most Maligned Movie Ever.” San Francisco Examiner. 15 March 1970: B5.

Mills, James. “Why Should He Have it?” Life. 7 Match 1969: 63-76.

Muir, Florabel. “Hollywood: It Snowed Customers.” Daily News. 21 December 1969: 2S.

“Not Ready for Trades But Exhibs See ‘Lili’.” Variety. 28 January 1970: 6.

Oldham, Gabriella, ed. Blake Edwards: Interviews. Jackson: University of Mississippi Press, 2018.

“Par Gets Hall’s Summer Spot for its ‘Darling Lili’.” Variety. 21 January 1970: 3.

“Para. Sets Preview Series in Five Cities for ‘Lili’.” Boxoffice. 26 January 1970: 10.

“Paramount’s Summer Playoff Strategy: 5,000 Bookings for Eight Major Films.” Variety. 3 June 1970: 5.

“Par’s Big Roadshow Splash.” Variety. 25 June 1969: 3.

“Par’s Lili Rated G.” Variety. 24 September 1969: 5.

“Premiere.” Los Angeles Times. 25 June 1970: IV-8.

“Radio City Music Hall’s All-Time Boxoffice Darling.” Variety. 5 August 1970: 12.

Sar, Ali. “Paramount Unveils Two Top Pictures.” Van Nuys News. 21 June 1970: 24-A.

Sar, Ali. “Curiosity Films: Plagued Studios Hope.” Van Nuys News. 28 June 1970: 4-B.

Siskel, Gene. “The Movies: ‘Darling Lili’.” Chicago Tribune. 22 August 1970: 12.

Sloane, Leonard. “At Paramount, Real Financial Drama.” New York Times. 28 November 1969: 48.

Stewart, Perry. “Warm Kiss from ‘Lili’.” Fort-Worth Star-Telegram. 1 Juy 1970: 28.

Stuart, Byron. "Pictures: Big Budget’s Big Bust-Up." Variety. 23 July 1969: 3, 20.

Taylor, Robert. “‘Lili’ Can Be Charming.” Oakland Tribune. 27 June 1970: 21-E.

Thomas, Bob. “Julie Andrews Praises ‘Lili’.” Courier-News. 15 September 1970: 13.

“U.S. Films’ Share-of-Market Profile.” Variety. 12 May 1971: 36-38, 122, 171-174, 178-179, 182-183, 186-187, 190-191, 205-206.

Warga, Wayne. “Stanley Jaffe: Paramount Risk Jockey.” Los Angeles Times. 24 January 1971: C1, C20-21.

Wasson, Sam. A Splurch in the Kisser: The Movies of Blake Edwards. Middletown: Weslayan University Press, 2009.

Wedman, Les. “The End of the Roadshow.” Vancouver Sun. 9 January 1970: 7A.

#julie andrews #Darling Lili #fiftieth anniversary #1970 #cinerama dome #film premiere #paramount #film history #hollywood #classic film #blake edwards

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new2fivesauce · 4 years

Text

Please Don’t Regret Me - 6. The L in CALM

Words: 3141

No Warnings.

This feels like a filler chapter instead of what I had intended to be the last. So with that being said, there will be one and final chapter of Please Don’t Regret Me and I hope this one doesn’t suck to much. Thanks!

The early morning’s first rays of sunlight eased their way into Nelle’s LA hotel room. The drum and bass heavy beginning notes of The Black Keys’ Dead and Gone startled Nelle out of her sleep.

“Fuck” she groaned as she tried to turn her stiff body towards the nightstand where her phone was continuing to play the alarm. Through her hazy and clearly hungover mind, she wondered why she couldn’t move her lower body. It wasn’t until she looked under the covers through groggy eyes to see an arm was holding her down by her waist. Her amber eyes followed the arm to the rest of the body. Luke was turned to her, blonde curls covering his face, light snores excelling from him. She heaved his arm off of her and made haste with shutting off her alarm. Her head was pounding as she got up from the bed. She held onto the nightstand when her body swayed gently, her balance totally askew. It was almost like a Ninja Warrior obstacle course just to get to the bathroom.

Nelle emerged from the bathroom almost an hour later. A towel wrapped around her head, another around her body, her mind now somewhat clearer than it had been when she first opened her eyes. She tiptoed around as she got dressed, brushed the tangles out her hair, and did concealer around her dark circles. Just as she had started packing up her belongings, Luke began to stir in his sleep. She froze mid action while putting last night’s clothes in her luggage.

She hadn't realized she was holding her breath until he positioned himself into a more comfortable spot.

Suddenly, Luke startled awake. Nelle jumped and squeaked in surprise but he hadn't seemed to see or hear her. Luke rubbed his eyes quickly, then used his hands to pat the comforter around him.

"Nelle?" He uttered in complete sadness and confusion, his head hanging down. Nelle cleared her throat and the blond boy in front of her shot his head up so fast he almost hit it on the headboard. He smiled lazily in her direction as he ran a hand through his curls. "Hey." He said.

Nelle returned the greeting and tried to smile back but she was sure it came out as a grimace. Luke didn't even seem to notice. He was just in awe of the girl who he had spent the night with. Even when she excused herself to gather something from the bathroom, he made sure to keep his eyes on her. It took a few times of Nelle folding clothes and walking around her room for Luke to finally become aware of what was happening.

"W-what are you doing?" He stuttered. She finished folding a white t-shirt that Luke immediately recognized. She put it down gently on top of a small pile of clothes at the edge of the bed.

"My flight is at 12. I'm about to head out. Don't worry though, the room is good until two, but if you need it for longer, just call the front desk. My card is on file; It’ll be fine." She said so nonchalantly that Luke could only gape at her. She gestured to the folded clothes. "Change of clothes." She added. "This was still in my suitcase from the last tour."

Luke scoffed. If Nelle heard it, she pretended not to. "I'm returning your Zeppelin shirt too." Her eyes flickered to the white shirt that was on top of the stack.

When Luke didn't say anything, Nelle took it as her cue to leave. She hated being late, especially to the airport. As she turned to her suitcase, Luke finally spoke.

"So that's it then?" He questioned, in anger. He wished he hadn't slept naked because he felt this was a conversation he needed to be standing for. He didn't know where his clothes were and he didn't want to seem like a klutz getting out of bed so he stayed put.

Nelle halted just a bit away from the bed and faced the singer.

She shrugged her shoulders. "Isn't that all you wanted?" She knew it wasn’t, but she felt that that was all she could give him at the moment. He was a fucking celebrity and with the release of Youngblood, he was more popular than ever.

Nelle immediately regretted her comeback as soon as Luke's blue eyes closed and he turned his head away to compose himself.

"I have to go. I never said I was going to stay." Nelle tried to reason.

Luke eyed her suspiciously though his eyes looked like glassy orbs through the tears he was struggling to hold in. "So you’re not even going to try to make this work?

“I’m not sure what you’re trying to make work, Luke.” she calmly stated but her hand tightened on the handle of her suitcase. Luke shook his head. “If you have something to say… then just say it. I’m not going to try to figure you out or put words in your mouth.”

When Luke didn’t say anything, just stared at Nelle with the coldest blue eyes she’s ever seen, she turned away and left.

-----

**3 months later, New York**

The months had passed slowly and drab. Winter always felt so long, so cold, so depressing… If anyone would have told Nelle that after Christmas, New York went from magical to just another cold day, she would have hopped on the first plane to Australia… but no one had and she had missed her chance to visit her family. This wasn’t her first Christmas that she’d gone without spending it with her family, but all those other times, she’d at least had “the boys.”

She sighed as she waltzed around her kitchen, putting the finishing touches on her and Sasha’s spaghetti dinner. Sasha would come prancing in any minute now from yet another photo shoot. Nelle had kept busy since returning from tour with her online Yale classes, a few small side jobs as a book intern, manager at a coffee cafe, and a PA at several various businesses, but nothing ever stuck. She wasn’t going to lie… she missed the touring. She thought retirement from the music world would be relief. Now all she had was this itch to zoom to and from places, literally schedule everything down to Michael’s next breath, use her customer service voice on asshats who thought they knew better, and best of all, spending every second of her time with four of the noisiest, fartiest, annoyingest boys.

Her thoughts lingered on Luke for a brief moment. She tried not to think too much about him. After leaving him naked in LA, they had shared a few intense, mostly one word, text messages and then zilch. He couldn’t find the words to express his feelings, which confounded Nelle because he was a damn songwriter and had written all these love songs for the band, yet, when it came to expressing how he felt towards her all he had to say was You should have stayed.

She wasn’t necessarily heartbroken, but she ached for him and his hair and his scent and their late night conversations and Brooklyn Nine-Nine marathons and dumb pranks on Calum.

Nelle was plating their food when she heard the lock of her apartment door jiggle and then turn loudly. Sasha dashed in, her heavy winter coat already falling off her body as she went through the door. Sasha slammed the door behind her, dropping her purse, phone, and whatever else onto her coat.

“Hey Hey!” she greeted quickly as she ran towards the bathroom in Nelle’s bedroom. “Sorry! Subway took forever! And you know how I feel about public restrooms!” Nelle heard Sasha call out from the distance. She chuckled as she went over to pick up her friend’s items from the floor.

Plates full of spaghetti and meatballs, glasses of wine, and the next episode of Gossip Girl was ready by the time Sasha emerged from the bedroom. She walked slowly in a daze and plopped down on the sofa next to Nelle. Nelle grabbed the remote from next to her and was about to start the show, when her friend quickly took the remote from Nelle.

“If you want to watch something else, just say so… I thought we were going to start season four today.” Nelle grumbled before slurping a forkful of noodles in her mouth. Sasha didn’t respond, just reached into the hoodie she’d put on in Nelle’s room, and pulled out two boxes.

It took more than a second or two for Nelle to realize what she was looking at.

“I wasn’t snooping, I swear!” Sasha began. “I was just looking for a tampon… and I found these.” Sasha looked down at the boxes of pregnancy tests she was holding. “Is there something you want to tell me?” she asked cautiously, taking a quick glance at Nelle’s stomach and back up to her amber eyes.

The brunette sighed as she placed her plate of food down on the coffee table. She sat up straight afterwards facing Sasha, her best friend and closest confidant…

"I'm sorry." Nelle started, dropping her head. Her waves tumbled forward, covering her embarrassed face. "It was just a scare. I panicked when it was nearly two months since having my period and I might have missed a day or two of my birth control while we were on tour. I bought a ton of tests and took like three of them.

"I got mixed results and I went to the doctor. She confirmed that I wasn't and the positive ones could have been faulty or expired tests. Turns out CVS doesn't always toss their expired pregnancy tests.

"I changed to an IUD though. So that's a plus. No kids for me for another five years… maybe. But I didn't tell you because it was nothing to worry about. And I didn't want to deal with the reactions."

Nelle nervously looked up, peering through her hair to peek at Sasha. Sasha was still as stone, almost like a Greek statue.

"My reactions?" Sasha questioned, her head slightly tilting to the right.

Nelle nodded.

"Yeah… you know… the mixed reactions of disappointment in whether you are or aren't or happy because you are… or aren't. I came out negative and I was happy. I just… I don't know." Nelle hung her head again, defeated. "I just didn’t think it was anything to tell and honestly, I forgot to throw away the extra tests."

Sasha shrugged her shoulders. Nelle could see her friend trying to work her situation in her head and thought that the subject was dropped when Sasha started scarfing down her food and the next episode of Gossip Girl.

It was halfway into the episode that Sasha suddenly paused the show and turned to Nelle, her eyebrows furrowed deeply with concern.

"Okay, I'm fine with your decision to not have told me. I'm sure if you were, it would have been different circumstances blah, blah, blah. I'm curious though. Why would you think you were preggo though? I haven't seen you with anyone in… well… forever. And I know you didn't hook up with that Daniel guy."

Nelle shrugged her shoulders, leaving a confused expression on Sasha’s face. Sasha then looked around the room suddenly, trying to find anything out of place or something that didn’t look like Nelle’s interior style.

“You haven’t had sex in ages… probably since you were in One Direction tabloid news for dating Zayn… Are you seeing someone?! Please don’t tell me it was a roadie guy!”

Nelle laughed, shaking her head at the same time at her friend’s ridiculous accusation.

“No, it was not a roadie… Honestly, I didn’t think anything was going to happen. We’re so restricted about our feelings, but the tension is always there. I thought before I departed the first time, with us rooming together all the time, maybe one of us would finally spill the beans about our feelings, but it never happened. Then Ash had his party and Luke was just there. Maybe it was the drinking or maybe in that moment… or moments, if you know what I mean, I just didn’t care. But we haven’t really spoken since. I kind of did walk out on him. He wanted me to stay, but I didn’t want to. He makes it seems like I owe it to him to stay and follow him around everywhere; could be because I did that for fucking years… but that was my damn job. It wouldn’t fucking hurt him to do the same for me. He’s just as capable of following me across the country as I am for him.”

Nelle gulped in some air, not sure where the sudden rush of words had come from, but Sasha had nothing to say in that moment. All she could do was gape at her. Her mouth wide open, her eyes almost popped out their sockets.

With a hand over her mouth, Sasha mumbled “shit” about five times, then let out a laugh. The girl cackled for a minute, making Nelle scoot away from her awkwardly.

“Fuckin’ hell. Nelle… fucking Luke?!” Sasha began, a short chortle escaped her mouth again. “I knew it. You were acting hella weird on the plane ride back. You totally ignored the group chat when Ash sent that pic of those lacy undies asking Who the hell had sex in my laundry room?!. Any time Cal facetimes and Luke is in the background, you suddenly have something to do in another room. You stare at his texts for waaaaay too long before typing something and then deleting it only to answer back with one or two words. I should have paid more attention. Fuck, dude.”

“It was one night, Sash. It was the best fucking night ever. And I don’t know what to do. I’m acting like he barely exists because he can’t tell how he feels about me. I see it on his face, I see it in some of his actions, but he can’t ever just tell me ‘Nelle, I like you… like I like you, like you!’” Nelle felt a hard lump in her throat and tried to sniffle it away. “I lied to you when I said that he didn’t write any songs on Youngblood about me. Calum confirmed half that shit is about me, written and recorded that very day I quit on them.”

Sasha reached over, taking Nelle’s hands in her’s. She pressed on them gently, rubbing small circles with her thumbs for comfort. Her eyes were sympathetic.

“I’m sorry, kid.” she said softly. “I don’t know how I can make this better.”

----------

**Australia**

It was December and the start of summer. Calum sighed as he adjusted himself on his couch, another episode of some documentary he had on for noise had just begun. He wondered how his girlfriend was faring. He knew New York was cold and he hadn’t understood why she was so insistent on remaining there for the holidays, but he sensed maybe it had to do with not wanting to leave Nelle by herself.

Speaking of Nelle, he had barely talked to her in the weeks since she had left LA after Ashton’s party. She wasn’t cold-shouldering him. He knew there was something keeping her distant, he just couldn’t pinpoint it. He had asked Sasha, but she had no idea herself either.

Calum looked towards the wall that separated his side of the duplex he shared with Nelle. Another sigh escaped his lips before there was a knock on his front door. Calum lazily swung his body off his couch. He adjusted his basketball shorts before opening the door.

Luke, curls a long, yellow mess, dark circles under his eyes, wrinkled clothes, was on the other side of the door. Calum didn’t say anything, just stepped aside to let the taller fellow in. Calum, like every other day that Luke came over in this state, went to the kitchen to fetch a glass of water while the blond made himself comfortable on Calum’s couch.

When Calum returned to the living room, Luke had taken over the couch he had been on, switching the channels on the television. He set the glass on the coffee table in the middle of the room. Luke eyed it, but made no attempt to take a drink.

This was becoming a new norm for them since they returned to Australia. Ashton still remained in LA and Michael was doing some traveling for another week, not sure where his next stop was going to be.

“How was therapy?” Calum asked, starting small talk, as he took the couch adjacent to the one Luke was laying on. Luke shrugged his shoulders. “Did you even go?” he asked, concerned.

“Yeah.” Luke answered softly, not letting his eyes flicker off the TV. “Same as last week. Doc says I’m in a void since we’re not touring. I don’t know how to keep myself busy.”

Calum raised an eyebrow, letting his eyes roam his friend’s attire. Luke was wearing a t-shirt that he recognized from Nelle’s wardrobe, shorts that were extremely wrinkled, and a pair of converse with unmatched socks.

“Did she also comment on how you haven’t changed out that outfit for two weeks?”

Luke scoffed. “I washed it, asshole.”

Calum snickered with a shake of his head.

The two didn’t say much afterwards; they watched whatever sitcom Luke had put on. Luke was drifting into a nap, when Calum’s phone vibrated on the coffee table, startling him. Calum chuckled at him before grabbing his phone to see who was contacting him.

Sasha’s name followed by a pink heart emoji appeared on his screen. He was concerned and confused. Because of the ten hour time difference, it had been a bit hard to communicate between the couple. Sometimes Sasha was barely waking up and Calum was going to sleep or vice versa. It had been difficult to find a time that suited them both. He swiped his phone screen to open the message.

Cal… I figured out the problem.

Nelle and Luke slept together. Ash’s party.

Calum gulped, a rush of fury came and went so fast followed by surprise, annoyance, and finally calm. No wonder Luke has been acting so weird and always looked at Nelle’s side of the duplex with such damn longing.

He peered up at Luke from over his phone as he sent a quick text back.

he’s here now. wat do i say?

Sasha’s reply came faster than Calum had anticipated.

You better get him here now with a bouquet of roses and fucking love letter the length of the equator and he better BEG on his hands and knees for the requited love of Eleanor Padilla.

#luke hemmings #luke hemmings imagine #5 seconds of summer #5 sos imagines #5 seconds of summer imagines #5 seconds of summer imagine #5sos #calum hood #ashton irwin #michael clifford #please dont regret me

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starchild--27 · 4 years

Text

Spring

EXO - magical (flower shop)!AU (incl. Kim Junmyeon, Zhang Yixing, Byun Baekhyun)

S - part 1 / S - part 2 / F - part 3 / W - part 4

word count: about 2300

I dedicate this to my precious Feli @kafkascupcake - as a thank you for the magical piece of art you created with the galaxy yeol picture and as a little cheering up in these hard times <3 i hope you enjoy it.</b>

also, i recommend to listen to this song while or before reading - the overall vibe is pretty much represented in the song (even though the lyrics don’t really fit, but we can ignore that xD).

Spring. Finally, spring had come. To you this fact meant mainly three things: longer and brighter days, warm sunshine hitting your face again and the hibernating nature waking up after this period of… well, more or less winter. Flowers would finally be blooming everywhere again. You couldn’t wait for the colours to return to the plain outside, first the greens and then one after one blues and whites and yellows and reds.

This year, it had been especially hard for you to wait for everything coming alive again since the weather didn’t really want to play its part either, playing and testing your patience by sending cold, freezing days right after the short periods of spring-like temperatures. But you were 100% sure – spring could not be stopped anymore by now. It wasn’t “just around the corner” but right here and about to stay until it was time for summer to come – you could feel it in your bones.

With your newly gained energy that came with the season of rebirth, you decided that you wouldn’t let a single thing spoil your enthusiasm. And it worked out just fine - even when you wanted to go shopping for some plants to decorate your balcony, apartment and maybe your office with, bringing spring even closer to your everyday life, and rain poured from the sky without any signs of stopping it couldn’t wipe the little smile on your lips away.

Come on, you thought, that little bit of rain! Umbrellas and raincoats were not invented without reason.

Nope, the weather gods could really not stop you from putting on boots and a coat, grabbing your umbrella to make your stroll through the city that day, looking for some nice places to buy some plants and flowers at.

In fact, you found the rain quite calming. Its intensity had looked much worse from the inside of a heated, dry building than it actually was. The weather was not raging and pushing harsh wind and cold rain into your face in a way that would get your cloths soaking wet despite weatherproof clothing and equipment, today’s rain was peaceful and quiet. You could watch the raindrops sending out little wave after little wave on the puddles they fell into and hear the steady tiny drums on the surface of your umbrella mixed with the chirping of birds in the trees that you passed every now and then. Maybe it was the deep, intense green that kept your mood up, reassuring you that spring wouldn’t fade away again. For a second you stopped walking and just listened. Surprisingly, the sound of the few cars passing by wasn’t disturbing you at all but rather gave the whole atmosphere the perfect imperfection, just the tiniest bit of it, to make it something real.

But the sweet soundtrack of the world around you was not what had brought you outside. It had been the desire to surround yourself with as much nature as you could. So, you continued wandering through empty streets and alleys, looking for something new and fresh, something out of the ordinary.

You were surprised you found what you’d been looking for so quickly, when you stood in front of a wooden door that had been painted in the same shade of green as the leaves of the trees you were watching before. You also did not expect to end your search in the middle of such an ordinary street. But here you were, admiring the metal door handle with ornaments in the shape of ivy leaves.

“Flowery Friends” you had read on the sign that stood in front of the entrance of the odd little shop. Well, since I am actually looking for flowery friends… You pushed down the door handle and pulled, with less force at first but then more strongly as you noticed the door wasn’t moving a bit. But the door stayed in its place. Great – I am pulling at push-doors again, you thought to yourself before pushing the door now. Still, no movement. Now you started to feel a bit awkward, looking up and down the street to check if somebody had watched you failing in open this silly green door. Luckily, you were still the only one who had dared to set a foot outside in the rainy weather. You sighed and were just about to leave that cute shop behind, when you heard a thud and the door sprung open. Aha, so it was pulling after all…

“I’m so sorry! This stupid door always gets stuck when we close it. Usually we would just leave it open during business time, but we weren’t exactly expecting any customers today because of the weather. Please come in and enjoy yourself!” Not that you were caught up in ridiculous stereotypes, but you had to admit you were a little surprised when a man opened the door. Even in our more open-minded time male florists were not a common sight. But you didn’t mind at all – he spoke with a very friendly voice, a little bubbly and excited about having a customer, maybe even today’s first. What really caught your attention though, was the brightness in his dark brown eyes that twinkled at you as if the man would keep little rays of sun light in them. He had such a positive and bright radiance that it took you a short moment to wrap your mind around it.

Before you finally entered the store, you thanked him and couldn’t help but give him a smile.Once you were inside, you stopped in your movement to gasp and stare. It was not the amount of green larded with blossoms in all shapes and colours that took your breath away but the intensity of the colours, the way every single plant in this shop looked healthy and thriving with life. You heard a chuckle next to you that got me out of the trance you were in.

“How…”, you tried to begin a question but was still so fascinated by the plants that you couldn’t really finish. “We treat them with much love. That’s how”, said an unfamiliar voice next to you, which lifted your gaze from the flowers to the person next to you. Another man, about as tall as the one who opened the door for you, but with a much calmer voice. Must be a co-worker since the other one always said ‘we’. You noticed a name tag that was attached to his knitted pullover. Junmyeon. You’ve never heard a name like this before, but it sounded very beautiful as it resonated in your head, somehow very fitting to the man who still stood next to you.

“How can I help you? Are you looking for something in particular?”

You gave it a quick thought before you shook your head.

“Not really. I’m just very fond of spring and nature and want to have at least a little part of it with me when I can’t be outside.”

“Ah, you are craving some flowery friends. I think we can work with that… Baekhyun, Yixing, please come over for a second. By the way, the name Flowery Friends was my idea. Brilliant, isn’t it?”

“We only named it like that because you were the one to encha- ehh, to buy this shop and insisted on having the right to name it.”

It was the first worker of the shop again, who had walked over and caused Junmyeon to huff in annoyance, almost regretting he had called his co-worker over. A quick glance at the name tag told you that he was the one called Baekhyun. Another foreign name. Just like Yixing. They sounded unfamiliar but very special.

What did sound very familiar and caused you to flinch was a loud crash, probably caused by somebody dropping a flowerpot. Junmyeon and Baekhyun seemed to ignore it and began to talk quietly about something I couldn’t understand due to their whispering. They exchanged nods and glances until a third man appeared from another part of the shop, walking in your direction while placing some flowerpots here and there. That had to be Yixing then. He was taller than his two co-workers with very loving eyes and a softness to his face that somehow managed to exceed the calmness of Junmyeon’s or the brightness of Baekhyun’s appearance. It felt like his mere presence had the power to erase the faint tiredness that seemed to accompany you through every day as you never got enough sleep at night. And did your skin feel much clearer now? Imperceptibly, you shook your head. Your imagination was just running wild because of the beauty of this place, for sure. You had to love the whole atmosphere so much that you instantly started to feel better in your own skin – there couldn’t be another explanation. But a part of you wasn’t satisfied at all with that simple attempt to reason what you felt in that moment. However, that part was quickly pushed back in your mind when Junmyeon drew your attention back to him by explaining to the others what you were looking for, to which they responded with giving each other knowing looks.

“It might seem to be a little weird request since it is you are here for the first time, but please take a seat over here and wait for us to be back. We have all sorts of homemade tea and biscuits, so please help yourself and don’t worry about your plants. We will find just the right ones for you, trust me.” It was the first time you heard Yixing speak and his request truly was very strange but there was a sincerity in his voice that won you over. So, you sat down poured yourself some tea and watched the three florists hurrying from one place to another, taking one plant from here and another flower from over there. Then they re-discussed their plan and the hurrying started again.

You had been in many flower shops already and even though it was definitely the most beautiful shop you’ve ever seen Flowery Friends was the strangest of them as well.

It didn’t take the three men long to walk up to you again, Baekhyun carrying a box carefully filled with plants and flowers.

“We’ve created a customized box for you-“

“Our speciality!”, Baekhyun interrupted Junmyeon with the bubbly voice of his, which Junmyeon accepted with a supressed sigh. It was quite funny to watch their interactions.

But soon Junmyeon continued to show you each and every plant they selected while Yixing gave you the most important information on how to take the best care of them and Baekhyun added his cheeky comments every now and then.

“So, … that should be it. If you want to exchange some of them or add some extra ones, feel free to tell us!” was how Yixing ended their detailed but certainly not boring guide to your own box of plants.

“Oh no, I really like what you selected”, you told them honestly which resulted in three smiley faces beaming at you. “I would just like to add two of these small bunches of lavender.”

Happily, Baekhyun put your extra order into a paper bag while you payed Junmyeon the price he told you. But when you checked the receipt you’ve gotten, you frowned.

“I’m sorry, but I think you forgot to charge me for the lavender” you noticed.

“Oh, that’s alright. Take the bunches as a gift. A special gift for the only person to go outside for buying plants on such a rainy day” Junmyeon explained and sweetly winked at you before getting up to take care of the plants in the shop.

With the box under your arm and the bag in your hand you made your way to the little green door that led you to this wonderful place. You turned around, about to say goodbye to the three florists with the silent promise to come back soon and in a span of only a few seconds the most peculiar thing happened. Out of the sudden the shop seemed to come alive on its own. It was like somebody had put glasses in front of your eyes, altering your sight. Or better: someone removed them so you could see clearer. You could see Baekhyun giving off light as if he was a sun of his own, brightening the room and providing energy to the plants in the room. Junmyeon nurtured them with portions of water that sprung from the palm of his hand. And when you looked for Yixing he had just laid hands on a dry leaf which looked healthy and alive again after only a few seconds under the man’s touch.

And then everything went normal again. You shook your head, not sure if it all had been a daydream. “Goodbye, then. I will surely come by more often”, you said, trying not to sound like you just had a weird magical dream about the three of them.

“Oh, we hope so! We really cherish honesty in people.”

You don’t know who of the men responded to you, but his words did nothing to moderate your confusion about what had happened the moment before. We cherish honesty in people – what is that supposed to mean?!

You looked at the three of them taking care of their flowers and plants a last time before you left the flower shop, tightly closing the green door behind you.

On your way home you could think of nothing else than what you had witnessed in the flower shop during these few seconds of special sight but there was no possible explanation except for a very vivid daydream. But again, a part of you couldn’t quite believe that and that part grew louder and louder the moment you spotted fine glittering particles on the plants you just brought home.

It was the part of you that had always believed in magic.

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