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airi-p4 · 3 years

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Love in the sky

I wrote this for the @lovebugs-and-snakecharmers LBSC Sprint challenge - Meet cute week event and, once again, I got carried away and broke all the rules. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Prompt: Sitting next to each other on the plane.

Summary: Marinette is going to NY on an international flight for the first time. What she doesn’t know is that the one seated next to her is the popular new band Kitty Section’s guitarist: Luka Couffaine.

Thank you @livrever for checking it for me 💙

AO3

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Marinette rushed through the aisle of the plane. She couldn’t believe she almost missed it! her first international trip to the US! Stupid alarm! Of course she was tired. She was so nervous she couldn’t sleep all night… until 5AM… and the plane departed at 10AM… and obviously she had to oversleep. *sigh*

Running, tripping and spinning on her feet, she finally searched for her seat. 38B - aisle seat. Her pink polka dotted suitcase was heavy, but thanks to the cabin attendant she could finally put it inside the overhead bin, while her backpack rested under the seat in front of her. All set, she let her weight fall on the seat at last and let out a deep breath as she fastened her seatbelt.

The doors of the plane closed, and the PA message started: Welcome on board… Security instructions… Marinette wasn’t listening. Her legs were uncontrollably shaking, and her fingers were fidgeting with the laces of her hoodie.

Those nerves and stress couldn’t be healthy.

She examined her surroundings, and, next to her, someone was sleeping. Someone, who appeared to be a young man, with a sleeping eye mask and a face mask on, messy blue hair showing under a knit hat and a blanket covering his body. Overall, it didn't give much more information about her plane's seat neighbor. Not wanting to wake him up, she focused on the rest of the passengers instead. Why were all of them so quiet when she felt her heart could burst out of her chest anytime?

The plane started its runaway and Marinette closed her eyes tightly when it raised from the lane. Once in the air, she started breathing again, but her heart was still beating fast.

"First time on a plane?" a masculine voice beside her asked.

She turned to her side, and looked at the person seated next to her. His eye mask was over his head now, and she could see his blue eyes clearly, while his blue bangs partly covered his eyebrows.

“Y- yes!” she squeaked.

“You’re making me nervous too. Calm down, it’s going to be ok” he assured.

“I- I know!" She said, but her body wasn’t obeying. “I’m sorry...”

The young man sighed. “Look, I’ve been on a plane many times. It’s safe. Why don’t you try to sleep? It’s going to be a long flight.”

“I- I can’t! I’m too nervous! I’ve never traveled alone before, plus my career depends on this trip! I can’t stay calm!”

“Why don’t you try listening to some music, then? It always helps me relax” the young man offered her a sympathetic look.

“Music…?” she blinked. ‘It could work’.

She plugged the earphones and put them in her ears. Then, she scrolled through the music programs on the touch screen in front of her. Classical music? For some reason, it only made it worse. Country music? Not her style. XY? Hell, no. Her eyes stopped at the name of a fairly new band: “Kitty Section”. She played the video called: “Kitty Section's Paris Live Concert”.

“Good choice” the man next to her said when the title started showing on the screen.

Marinette had heard about the band called Kitty Section. They had featured in most of her favorite magazines after they won Eurovision several months ago, but she wasn't familiar with their music. In less than a minute, she was hooked and forgot completely about her surroundings or her nerves.

“Wow!” she mumbled, mesmerized, and the man next to her let out a snicker.

The music was amazing- the rock vibes, their stage presence, the vocalists’ cuteness and high ranged voice, the accurate and insane drums, the gorgeous purple haired bassist… all of them sounded incredible. But the guitarist… the blue haired guitarist was extraordinary- unbelievably good. Not only talented, but also powerful, charismatic and incredibly handsome.

“They’re good, huh?” The man beside her commented and she nodded. She could tell he was smiling under his face mask. She nodded in agreement.

“I had never heard them properly before but damn- they are incredible” Marinette answered, and he laughed. Her fingers tapped rhythmically, following the beat of the song. “But…" she continued, observing. "I think they could do better. There’s a margin of improvement,” she said with judging eyes.

“Oh, really? How?” The blue-eyed man asked, curious, resting his elbow on the arm rest to get a closer look.

“The costumes,” Marinette pointed out. Then, she reached her backpack under her feet and took out a sketchbook and a pen and started drawing. “The outfits could be improved if they added this, and this” she signaled. “And this-” She kept scribbling while the blue-haired man observed and listened to her suggestions. “And ta-da! Wouldn’t they look even better if they were like this?” She proudly showed him her designs, only to realize she was being embarrassing towards a stranger. “Ah, sorry- I got carried away…” She apologized. But the man took the sketchbook in his hands.

“Let me see,” he said, and she saw how his eyes examined every detail of her drawings. She gulped nervously. It felt like her skills were being tested. But the man took his face mask off and smiled. “Wow, that’s impressive. Fresh, charismatic, unique- and perfectly according to the band's style. I love them" he returned her the sketchbook. "You’re very talented. Are you famous? Do you take commissions?” He asked, and she looked at him speechless.

“I- I’m still a no-one… Is it really impressive?” She looked at him and blushed at the compliment.

“Yes, I think so. What would you do with this outfit?” He asked, showing him a photo of the same band on his smartphone. Her inspiration overflowed as she kept drawing and explaining her ideas. They kept discussing costumes and visual aspects of the band and chatted comfortably for a long time.

"I think Rose should go with something more… daring, bolder. She looks innocent but she's fierce inside. Of course, cuteness is her main trait, so I think she should combine both" she explained, coloring her design with colored pencils. "I think something like this would be perfect for her" she showed him her sketchbook and he was impressed. “As for Juleka-” She continued, turning to a blank page. “She’s so beautiful. I wish she didn’t cover her face so much, even if the mystery look is really attractive too…" She stopped drawing for a moment to admire the bassist on the screen. "Gosh- She's so gorgeous! I wish I was that beautiful” she commented.

“I think you’re even more beautiful than her, you know?” The blue-haired man casually said, and she shyly blushed with a 'no way' frantic arms movements. “What about the guitarist?” he asked, raising an eyebrow with a smug smile.

“Luka Couffaine? OH LORD SHOW MERCY- Have you seen him? And his eyeliner? It should be ILLEGAL to be this HOT” She said, convinced.

“Hmmm… So you like him, huh?” He teased, his smile widening.

“Who doesn’t, really?” She shrugged. “He’s literally the SEXIEST man alive. His eye contact with the camera could kill! Oh, and whenever he gets shirtless on stage or photoshoots? GOD- I almost get a nosebleed EVERY FREAKING TIME! He's TOO DAMN HOT" She fanned herself at the image. "Don’t you agree?" She asked and he blinked twice. "You like him too, right? You have so many photos of them in your phone! I bet he’s making you question your sexuality too, like he does with all my friends! How could anyone resist those blue eyes and his manly features, his soft looking blue hair and- his tattoos..." She looked away from her seat neighbor's blue piercing eyes, and focused at the smartphone screen again, to a close-up photo of Kitty Section’s guitarist. "How did you get these close-up casual photos...?” she asked, and then she noticed the tattoo on his neck. She looked back and forth at the man seated next to her and the one in the picture. ‘It couldn't be, right…?’ And at that moment, when he had a knowing smile on his face- one she knew too well-, she realized who he was seated next to on the plane. Her eyes opened as big as plates and she overheated. He was smirking amusingly at her reaction. “You- You- You are-? Lu-Lu-Luk- It can’t be…”

He nodded to confirm her suspicions and her jaw fell to the floor. “Hi. I think I haven't introduced myself yet. My name is Luka. But I think you already know that. It’s nice to meet you.” He chuckled, straightening his hand for a handshake.

“Oh God, kill me now...” She mumbled, sinking on the table. Luka snickered.

“What’s your name?”

“Ma-Ma-Marinette… I mean- Marinette!” She felt his eyes on her and panicked. “Excuse me- I- I need a moment... This- This is too much- Oh My God...” She stood up and rushed to the end of the plane, not without tripping twice on her way there.

________________________

While Marinette was gone, the two ladies in front of Luka and Marinette’s seats turned to Luka. “Having fun?” They smirked, knowingly. He was chuckling, having real trouble to keep his laugh from escaping.

“Oh, God, Yes. This is so much fun." He wiped the tears that were forming on his eyes. "I think I’ve found our potential new costume designer” he continued laughing under his nose.

“Only that? I think there’s more...” Juleka smirked, and Rose giggled in agreement by her side. He couldn't deny it: his sister was totally right.

Behind Luka's seat, Kitty Section's drummer, Ivan and his girlfriend Mylene had been enjoying the show the blue-eyed pair had been giving. It was definitely more entertaining than any movie. It would have been perfect if they had popcorn to accompany their fortunate first row seats to the hilarious show. They also approved Marinette's designs.

Luka took the chance Marinette wasn't there to freely stand up, go talk to their managers and stretch his legs for a bit.

_________________________

Back at the end of the plane, Marinette drank some juice and moved to the bathroom. She was panicking in front of the mirror, talking to herself.

“OH. MY. GOD. I’m seated next to Luka Couffaine! For at least… 5 hours more!? And I just called him hot! And- And- he said I’m beautiful and talented! And- Oh my God, he asked me for commissions, right? This can’t be real- I-" her feet wiggled uncontrollably and she let out a long squeak. "Ahh… Calm down, Marinette! He’s human- A sexy human, but still human! He’s famous but very friendly, kind and nice. And fun! It’s going to be alright. Just- Avoid his eyes. That’s it. It’s dangerous. Don’t fall in love. You’re not a teenager anymore, you’re over that stage, right? Only a few hours more. You can do it. I CAN DO IT!” She convinced herself with a confident nod and returned to her seat, only to find Luka was gone.

She looked for him from her seat, at her surroundings, but he was nowhere to be found. She sighed in both relief and sadness as she seated.

For some reason, she was missing him. Which was stupid, considering they had just met! But his company was certainly enjoyable... And, moreover, it was FUN. More than she ever remembered having. And not only because she was passionate about fashion or music. It had to do with his aura, his personality, his gentle manners- just... Luka.

“Don’t worry, he’ll be back in a moment” A voice said from in front of her. “My brother is stupid, but he’s a decent person. Treat him well” The purple haired lady winked, beside a petit blond lady.

“Jul-!” She covered her mouth with her hands to stop herself from yelling her name. “And Rose-!?” 'Oh, no! They might have heard what I said too!' She panicked again and the ladies giggled amused.

“Ignore my sister and her girlfriend” Luka returned, and her face flustered when she noticed how tall and well built he was (not that she didn't know that, but it hit differently in first person). “Can I get back to my seat?” He politely asked, pointing at the window seat.

“Ah-! Yes! Of course!” She stood up so suddenly she tripped and fell on Luka’s chest. She immediately moved away in embarrassment, falling back instead, and Luka had to hold her again to avoid her imminent fall. “I’m sorry!”

“Are you ok?” He asked in concern, and she shyly nodded. Luka reluctantly let go of her and returned to his seat and Marinette settled back to hers.

Wait- Was that a blush on his face?

“Here” Luka offered her an envelope. “I don’t know what your plans in NY are but, here’s a VIP pass to our concert next Sunday. There’s also our contact card inside. I want you to consider the idea of working for us. Your costumes are impressive. We discussed it, and we want you in our team” Marinette had no words- totally speechless. Could she be this lucky? “What do you say?” Luka asked with a hopeful tender smile that made her weak.

“I- I’ll think about it. And- Oh God- I’ll totally be there for your concert” She blushed and Luka smiled kindly at her. Suddenly, she started searching inside her backpack, and took out a business card she offered him. “This is my contact. I- I have a fashion event next Monday. I would love you to come, if you can make it. Send me an email and I’ll get you some passes”

“Wow! That's impressive. I'll try to make it. Thank you, Marinette”

Marinette could hear her heart beating faster. No looking in his eyes, dammit. They kept talking for a while, enjoying their time together until they fell asleep out of exhaustion, Marinette’s head resting on Luka’s shoulder. He woke up earlier than her, but didn’t have the heart to wake her up until lunchtime. She looked like she really needed that rest.

When he left half of his lunch untouched, Marinette scolded him. “You have to eat! You’re too thin! Those abs and arms need consistency! Proteins!” She pointed at a photo of him shirtless and flustered again in embarrassment in realization. “Ah-”

Gosh- it really was fun, Luka thought, chucking. It was hard not to laugh out loud. Everything flowed so naturally it was unbelievable.

Damn. He didn’t want the plane to ever land.

“Marinette” he called, during their coffee time, and she looked back at him, redness still on her cheeks. “The plane will land soon but- Even if you don’t accept our offer… Is it possible for us to meet again? Out of business? Like this?”

Marinette flustered at his implications. “Do- Do you mean-?”

“A date. Would you go on a date with me, Marinette? Or just as friends, if you prefer. I like you, and I don’t think I’ve ever had this much fun with anyone else” He took Marinette’s pen and one of his ‘Kitty Section’ contact cards and wrote something behind it. “These are my personal telephone number and email. We'll be in NY until Friday next week. It would make me very happy if you contact me, whenever you prefer, anytime” He said, securing the card in her hands.

Marinette blushed, looked at the card with glowing eyes, and then at his honest loving stare. Was it even possible that the man everyone was gushing about was asking her out? But this had nothing to do with his stage persona. Luka was someone she more than enjoyed spending time with. Naturally, quietly, assuring… She had no doubts about her answer.

“I want to meet you again, too” she stated, and wrote her personal number under his wristband. “I’m free on Wednesday” she shyly smiled, and his smile widened.

“Wednesday is it, then. I'll manage to find the time. Just for you." He smiled happily and only then she realized how deep she had fallen.

Ah- she hadn't wanted to fall in love. What a way to fail her own determination… But she couldn't complain, not at all.

And he felt the same way.

Luka and Marinette's hands locked together, and they lost themselves in each other’s eyes, smiling at each other.

“Why don’t you kiss her already, dumbass?” Juleka called, and Marinette blushed. “He won’t kiss you if you don’t give him proper permission, you know? He’s very considerate despite his looks. Tell him already”

“Jules… Why don’t you mind your business and make out with Rose instead?” He shushed his sister and Rose giggled, embracing Juleka. Luka returned his attention to Marinette. “Sorry about that”

“It’s ok… I-” She started, looking at his thin lips. “Will you kiss me if I want to? Because I think I do...”

“You do?” he asked, and she shyly nodded and he smiled softly, making her heart flutter.

She closed her eyes and he leaned closer to give her a sweet kiss on her cheek. She pouted a little, in disappointment, but he told her that, if she really wanted to kiss him, that would be the perfect excuse to meet him again and make it more special, like a beautiful lady like her deserved. Marinette understood his reasoning and agreed with it, despite the slight disappointment she felt she would have to wait a few days to get the chance to kiss him. Nevertheless, both of them happily smiled while their fingers remained interlaced, chatting and enjoying their time together the rest of the flight, until the plane landed and they had to unavoidably say their farewells.

“Thank you for everything, Luka. I forgot how scared I was of planes thanks to you and- I’ll see you soon?”

“I really hope so. I still owe you something, right?" He winked and she blushed happily. Luka gave her a final discreet and quick kiss on her knuckles. "Gosh- I miss you already...” He added, and Marinette felt the urge to cry. She dropped her bag to hold him in a needed embrace. He gladly reciprocated her gesture. Despite neither wanting to separate, they forced themselves to. "I hope I see you soon, Marinette"

"Me too, Luka…" she wiped her tears and waved, as the band started walking away.

When the arrivals doors opened and all the camera flashes blinded her, she understood why Kitty Section members always wore sunglasses in airports. They were more popular than she could have expected. She understood why he had refused to kiss her outside of the plane, but he still saluted her before disappearing in the multitude of fans and paparazzis.

On the other side, Sabrina, Audrey Bourgeois’ assistant, waited for her. She had almost forgotten about her own business. But now, she found the motivation she had lacked. If she was willing to be with Luka, she had to become the best. She wanted to make a name of herself, more than ever. And her meeting with Luka certainly boosted her confidence.

Unexpectedly, her trip to NY had already become one of her most memorable experiences yet. And it had just started! She couldn't wait to spend the rest of the week in the city.

#my fic #airipyon #airip4 #lbsc sprint fic #lbsc sprint fic challenge #LBSC sprint challenge #lukanette fic #Pro LukaMari #endgame lukanette #nevermind the title- i'm super bad at them #I kinda want to write part 2 #but I don't need more WIPs ;v;#I need to finish them instead Dammit XD

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lesbianlotties · 3 years

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Journeys end in lovers meeting - Sam/Deena - Fear Street x Bly Manor AU

Chapters: 3/10 Fandom: Fear Street Trilogy (TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Samantha "Sam" Fraser/Deena Johnson, Sarah Fier/Hannah Miller (Fear Street), Christine "Ziggy" Berman/Nick Goode, Samantha "Sam" Fraser & Deena Johnson Characters: Samantha "Sam" Fraser (Fear Street), Deena Johnson, Kate Schmidt (Fear Street), Simon Kalivoda, Josh Johnson (Fear Street), Constance (Fear Street Part 3: 1666), Christine "Ziggy" Berman, Nick Goode (Fear Street), Alice (Fear Street Part 2: 1978), Sarah Fier (Fear Street), Hannah Miller (Fear Street), Solomon Goode (Fear Street) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, The Haunting of Bly Manor AU, Not Canon Compliant, Haunted Houses, Ghosts, Character Death, Minor Character Death, Canon Lesbian Relationship, First Meetings, Fluff and Angst, Eventual Smut, Happy Ending, Au Pair Sam, Gardener Deena, Housekeeper Kate, Cook Simon, Josh and Constance as troubled kids, Ziggy and Nick in an unhealthy relationship, minor Cindy/Alice, Martin cameos, special appearances of all the Shadyside killers as ghosts, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, The Rest Is Confetti Summary:The year is 1994. Samantha Fraser recently moved to Shadyside, and she desperately needs a job that will help her leave her troubled past behind. She starts working as au pair at Shadyside Manor, where she is not the only one tortured by ghosts. Grief, regrets, guilt, innocent victims, and an ancient curse. At the center of all of it... love.

Chapter 3:

“We have to call the police.”

“No.”

“Why not?!” Sam exclaimed, throwing her arms up. She couldn’t believe Kate and Deena would refuse to call the police when a potentially dangerous stranger was wandering around the house. The three women were standing in the foyer of the house, but she took one look at Josh and Constance in the living room, sitting by the fire. Josh had a towel wrapped around him and he was still shivering. Sam was aware she barely knew them, but she felt so protective of them already. What Sam heard next, startled her out of her thoughts.

“Because the police would take his side,” Deena explained.

“Wait… you know him?”

“His name is Nick Goode,” Kate explained. Her shoulders deflated and Sam suddenly understood why they had looked so disturbed by her description of the man she saw outside the window. “He used to work here at the manor. He is a Sunnyvaler with a fucked up interest in this property and… in Christine Berman. We don’t know what he did to her or what he stole or what of shit he got himself into but one day he just… disappeared. The police, of course, blamed us. Blamed her. And… well… Christine killed herself waiting for him to return.”

“I’m going to call Simon,” Deena blurted out. She turned her back on Sam and Kate and moved to the phone. Sam couldn’t help noticing her hands were shaking. “It’s best if we all stay here tonight.”

“It’s pouring rain outside,” Kate pointed out.

“He can hold a fucking umbrella!”

While Deena made the call, Sam was lost in thought. Her hands were still tightened into fists and she made the conscious move to lose them. “Is he dangerous?” she asked Kate.

“No,” the housekeeper shook her head softly, but her distaste was clear as day on her face. “He’s just an entitled asshole.”

“Then I’m going out.”

“Sam, don’t,” Deena said, putting down the phone.

“It’s not raining that much,” Sam insisted, putting on her denim jacket and grabbing the fire poker again. “I don’t even need an umbrella.”

Sam walked out of the house, throwing a smile over her shoulder, which froze Deena in the spot. At least, until Kate slapped her arm.

“Deena, you go too.”

“It’s raining!”

“I’m going to kick your ass,” Kate rolled her eyes, she wasn’t fooled by Deena’s protests. She was just helping her friend, making her feel she was blindly following the new au pair out in the middle of a storm because she was instructed to and not because her heart told her to. “I’ll take care of the little shits. Go!”

Deena took a deep breath and glanced back at her younger brother. Somedays, it felt like they couldn’t recognize each other, but she would die for him, she would do absolutely anything for his safety. So, the gardener grabbed her jacket, her keys, and left the house. Kate stood in the doorway for a moment, until she couldn’t see Sam’s blonde head anymore. She had a bad feeling about all of this. She had been having a bad feeling deep inside her that she couldn’t shake for anything in the world, but she tried her best to ignore it. She shook her head a little, passed her hand over the back of her neck, and stood straighter. Then she walked toward the kids, determined to get them to bed before any more trouble could find them.

In the foyer, the only person left was Ruby Lane. She was hiding among the shadows, but even if she took one step forward nobody would see her, nobody ever saw her. She still wore that familiar skirt, and her blouse, and she couldn’t get rid of the razor blade in her hand. The sharp edge glinted menacingly, but it wasn’t half as frightening as her face. She used to be so beautiful, and now her features were dimmed, they had softened, lost some of their definition, but her angry, disgusted frown was still firmly in place.

Once outside and under the rain, which thankfully had slowed down considerably, Sam felt her determination waver slightly. But her bravado was renewed when she heard someone, not an attacker, catch up with her.

“Hey, Sunnyvale! Wait up,” Deena called out, and jogged the rest of the way to Sam’s side.

They exchanged a long look, studying each other. Apparently, Deena took a detour to go pick a shotgun from her truck, and she was currently carrying it as if it were an everyday occurrence for her. But, she was also frowning at Sam.

“So, what was your plan here, huh? Go out in the middle of a storm, chase a creep, and tell him that if he doesn’t leave you’ll give him extra homework?”

Sam scoffed, turned around, and started walking away, assuming Deena would follow her, or not. She understood that a large part of her bravado upon seeing Deena was just her desire to prove people wrong about the assumptions they might make about her. She didn’t stop to dwell on it for long, afraid of what else she might realize, but Sam did notice that with one look at Deena, her posture, her expression, she could tell the gardener wasn’t in one of her sweet moods and, instead, she was going to be, well, a little bit of an asshole.

“This is hardly a storm, it’s just drizzling,” Sam eventually said, raising her voice to be heard through the roaring of the wind around them.

“Really? That’s the part you’re going to respond to?” Deena chuckled, and hurried up so she was walking beside Sam. “I didn’t take you for the confrontational type, Sunnyvale. That’s all.”

Sam stayed silent for a moment. She was suddenly reminded of the last time, or the first time maybe, that she stood up to someone. The time that she faced her fears and fought back against a force that had been terrorizing her for years. Then she thought about how badly that had turned out, and how she was still dealing with the consequences.

“Well,” Sam cleared her throat, “I’m trying something new, I guess.”

“Oh yeah? I’d say-”

“What?!” Sam snapped. She wasn’t in the mood to deal with Deena’s smug tone, and maddening smirk, and only mildly accurate remarks about Sam’s entire personality. Perhaps she should have considered the sharp-edged weapon in her hand when she turned around hastily to face the gardener.

Deena jerked her head back when she was met with the fire poker, but she was still smirking, much to Sam’s irritation. Deena slowly raised her hand and gently pushed the poker’s sharp end again from its previous aim at her face. “I’d say,” she repeated, “it looks good on you.”

For a second, all they did was stare at each other. Deena’s smirk softened into a genuine smile, whereas Sam’s frown only deepened, but she wasn’t as angry as she was perplexed. She tried parting her lips to say something, but nothing came. Eventually, it was Deena who broke the silence.

“Let’s go check the chapel,” Deena nodded her head toward the small building, and the two of them were on their way.

The two women arrived at the chapel just in time, because the rain was worsening again. Deena stood by one of the windows and grimaced. “It’s raining too much now, maybe we should wait it out here for a moment,” she suggested. Not that she seemed very happy about it. It was like every attempt she made to distance herself from the intriguing au pair completely backfired.

Sam was casually wandering around the place, taking in the details. It was a spot that had been skipped over during her tour of the house. “What are those candles for?” she asked.

“That’s all Kate,” Deena replied. “Shouldn’t leave them burning though. But she never listens.”

“Oh,” Sam mumbled and walked closer. She observed, a little mystified, the way Deena blew over the four candles, killing each of them.

“They’re for the dead,” Deena explained upon noticing Sam’s curiosity. “At least that’s what Kate says.”

“You don’t agree?” Sam wondered. She took a seat in one of the pews, and Deena followed her lead, sitting in the one in front of her, and turning her body so she could look Sam in the eye.

“They’re for the Bermans, I think,” Deena shrugged. “If we were to really light up candles for everyone we’ve lost, we’d run out of space in here.”

Sam hummed in understanding, and for a while, they were silent. Each of them was lost in their own memories about lost ones. Neither of them was aware of an additional presence in the chapel with them. Tommy Slater didn’t mind going unnoticed. He could barely see them anyway. He could only tighten his grip on the axe, rest his back against the wall, spend one more day, or month, or year, in the quiet corners of Shadyside manor.

Eventually, Sam broke the silence. “So,” she cleared her throat, “do you just casually carry a shotgun with you everywhere?”

Deena chuckled, and Sam couldn’t help but notice the way her eyes sparkled when she laughed. “It’s for rats,” Deena explained, “which includes Nick fucking Goode.” She made a pause, and because she liked the way Sam listened and smiled at her, Deena felt compelled to do something against it. “You don’t have to risk your life for… the kids, or the job, you know?” For us, Deena stopped herself from saying that.

“Don’t belittle me, Deena, please,” Sam said with a small frown.

“I’m not. I’m just trying,” to protect you? “to warn you, Sam.”

Sam pursed her lips and considered Deena’s words. The gardener was content seeing that Sam didn’t just immediately disregard what she was trying to say. “I dealt with enough shit in Sunnyvale,” Sam admitted quietly, but later added a smile. “Your haunted house doesn’t scare me, Deena.”

Her words ignited a bright smile to take over Deena’s face. The gardener, of course, immediately looked away, trying to get her expression in control. When she looked back at Sam, her smile was much smaller, but her eyes said it all. “What scares you then?” Deena asked.

“What scares you?” Sam said and squinted at her.

“Hey, I asked first!”

“Well, will you answer if I answer?”

Deena shook her head, but she was having trouble holding back her smile. Where did this adorably awkward school teacher come from? More accurately, how the hell did she end up in Shadyside manor out of all places, in Deena’s path, more precisely?

“Alright,” Deena relented, and leaned her head on her hand, ready to listen.

Sam smiled, and then took a deep breath, gathering her courage. “I suppose I’m scared of… hopelessness,” she said slowly. “I’m scared of giving up. Scared of having nothing worth fighting for anymore. Uh… does that make sense?”

The gardener blinked twice, trying to clear her mind. She hadn’t expected that answer. But it would have been foolish to expect an answer along the lines of heights or spiders. It was obvious that Sam Fraser was infinitely more complicated than she seemed at first sight. Deena had to use all her strength to keep herself from wishing to know more about the au pair.

“I don’t know if that’s more Sunnyvale or Shadyside of you, but yes, it makes sense,” Deena finally replied.

Sam beamed at her, and asked, “What about you?”

Deena had known her answer for many years, but she still put on a show about thinking about it. She really was thinking about it or, at least, about the right way to say it after what Sam just said. “I’m scared of hope,” she replied.

“Are you making fun of me?”

“I would never,” Deena shook her head. “I’m genuinely not very fond of everything that comes along with having too much hope. Broken promises, crushed expectations, being let down… letting people down. It’s best to save yourself from it all.”

Sam had been listening very seriously. When Deena met her eyes both of them had a little trouble breathing normally. The small chapel suddenly felt too crowded. Sam was beyond thankful that Deena had trusted her with her words, but she could tell in those sweet brown eyes that the gardener was growing uncomfortable. Before Deena could grow desperate enough to take back her words and her moment of vulnerability, Sam tried something. A tiny smile crept into her lips. “That sounds boring,” she said softly.

Deena raised a playful eyebrow at her. “It’s safe,” she said. She was relieved for the gently offered exit out of the heavy emotional place they had wandered into. “Don’t go making fun of me now. I still have a shotgun here, you know?”

Sam laughed wholeheartedly, and Deena easily joined her. The silence afterward was different, comfortable, and easy. Deena was leaning over the back of the seat, and Sam was leaning forward. That left them a little closer than they had expected. It became a little too easy to get lost in each other’s eyes. Those two pairs of eyes that were full of secrets and trying their hardest not to let anyone else see.

Then, very suddenly, the windows of the chapel were lit in bright light. Those were a car’s headlights. “Must be Simon,” Deena cleared her throat and jumped out of her seat. “We should go back.”

Sam nodded in silent agreement, and started following Deena out of the chapel. But halfway through she let out a quiet gasp. “Do you think I shouldn’t have left the kids in the first place?”

Deena fondly chuckled and gently pushed the anxious au pair out of the chapel. The two of them walked outside and closed the door behind them. The chapel was left completely empty.

The storm got worse, and this time it definitely didn’t show any signs of stopping soon. Luckily, everyone had made it back to the house. Constance and Josh had finally fallen asleep, not without a fight though. The adults were gathered in one of the rooms of the big house, seated close by the fire, drinking hot chocolate, and with blankets on their laps. Sam was finally warming up. She had put up her damp hair in a ponytail, and she was listening intently to her coworkers. The three of them were finally unveiling the tragic story behind Christine Berman’s death. Kate was the one to lead the story.

“After Cindy and her husband died, Christine had the reins of the entire property. Alice owned a chunk of it, but she’s never wanted to get personally involved with this place, I guess. The house can be scary but it’s still a big property with a lot of value. Christine and Alice decided to get someone to protect the place, you know, keep an eye on the property and the few of us living and working here. That’s when Nick Goode came into the picture. Supposedly, he was tired of the police department of Sunnyvale, and moved here in search of something different.”

“And there’s nothing more different to Sunnyvale than this shithole, isn’t it?” Deena joined in. Her jaw was tense and her eyes displayed a wave of anger in them that almost frightened Sam. “Nick and Christine started dating almost immediately and it wasn’t cute, let me tell you. They were obsessed with each other. It was a picture-perfect toxic relationship. He was so… controlling. It was almost scary. He decided everything they did, when, and how they did it. He had a say in everything she said, and wore, and did. It was fucking suffocating just to watch them from afar. She made him her everything, and when he was gone, well… she had nothing left.”

That’s when it clicked for Sam that the anger in Deena’s eyes was much more complicated than that. It was grief. It was regret. In some way, Sam wouldn’t be surprised if Deena blamed herself for not intervening in some way to help the other woman. The next one to speak up was Simon. The poor man tried his best to keep up his usual spark, but it was pretty much impossible. He was fidgeting on his seat, running his hand through his hair repeatedly, and moving his eyes across the room to avoid letting anyone see the way they watered at the mention of Christine.

“He went missing, one day. Nick was a weird dude, if we’re being completely honest. He always acted weird with the rest of us, he was shifty and shit. He was weirdly obsessed with this house. There’s no way he wasn’t hiding some dark shit. And whatever that was, it came back to bite him in the ass. He had to run away. He just disappeared, like the cowardly rat he is. But… you know. Christine lost herself after that. The police didn’t help either. They were convinced she had killed him or something. They harassed her half the time, and she tortured herself waiting for that piece of shit the other half of the time. But she… she was our friend, you know?”

In the end, Simon was biting his nails, his eyes were distant, and he was shaking a little, not from the cold. Sam nodded slowly, she felt like she couldn’t really breathe easily, and she couldn’t imagine how the others were dealing with it all. Kate took her turn once more to finish the story.

“Constance found her. One damn foggy morning. Floating on the stupid lake. Then Deena found Constance.” There was a pause, and none of them could avoid glancing at Deena, but the gardener didn’t meet anybody’s eyes. When Kate continued talking, her voice wavered, and soon enough her eyes were tearing up beyond any attempt to hide it. “That kid really loved her aunt, you know? I mean, Constance adored Christine. Even more after her parents… And then motherfucking Nick Goode even stood in between them as much as he could. Some days I look at Constance and it’s like watching a younger version of Christine. She’s so much like her. It hurts. Because, in the end, Christine wasn’t a happy person anymore. We don’t want that for Constance, you know? She hasn’t been herself for a whole year. But since you arrived… she’s fighting with you all day long, running, protesting, yelling, and I just think… that’s our girl, she’s not gone. She’s still a little shit though.”

When she was done, Kate was wiping away tears, and trying to take deep breaths. But at the end of her story, she had laughed tearfully, talking about Constance. Deena and Simon had joined in. Soon enough they were sharing all kinds of stories about the young Berman girl. Kate had known her almost her entire life, when she started babysitting for her. Deena and Josh arrived just a couple of years later. Simon joined in last. He was hired after the Bermans died, but before Nick Goode showed up. Sam listened intently to their stories. Somehow, they managed to make her feel welcome, and like a part of that mismatched family they had formed in that objectively unlucky place. She appreciated it. And she also realized that she had stepped into a story that was infinitely more complicated than she could have ever expected.

Maybe it was the drinks that Kate and Simon brought out at one point during the night. but Sam was getting a little dizzy trying to understand the tangle of limbs that were the housekeeper and the cook. They fell asleep pretty much on top of each other and it didn’t look very comfortable, but it made Sam smile.

“Are they… a couple?” Sam asked Deena in a hushed tone.

The gardener chuckled and moved from her previous chair to sit beside Sam on the sofa. They were the only two people alive awake in that house. “God no,” she shook her head. “That embarrassing sight is completely platonic.” She made a pause, enjoyed Sam’s small laugh, and then decided to take a risk. “Why you ask?”

“Just, uh, curiosity,” Sam replied.

“I hope you weren’t too interested, Sunnyvale. I’d hate to break your heart letting you know Simon’s gay.”

Sam smiled and shook her head. “I wasn’t… I’m not… it’s not like that,” she stuttered.

“Okay,” Deena nodded. She kept her smirk controlled, and tried to convince herself she was only doing this to tease the other girl, with no ulterior move or secret interest in her answer. “If it helps… so is Kate.”

Sam was staring into Deena’s eyes when the meaning of her words registered. The panic in the au pair was instant, and it worsened when she took notice of how close Deena was, how intently they were looking at each other, and how heavy were the additional questions hanging in the air between them. “Oh,” Sam croaked out, and attempted to clear her throat. “So… um… you, uh… why do you think Nick Goode would come back now? After abandoning Christine before.”

At first, Deena was quiet. She bit her lip, doing what she could to hide how confused she was about the contradicting feelings of relief and disappointment at the change of subject. Then she relaxed, leaned back on the couch, and searched for an answer. “He probably doesn’t even know she’s dead. People like Nick Goode aren’t happy losing. They want to have it all. No exceptions. He isn’t content just walking away,” Deena said. She was surprised by the clear as day understanding she saw in Sam’s eyes.

“He can’t just let her go. He has to feel like he still owns her,” Sam added. She looked a little dazed for a moment, but she was brought back to the conversation at hand when she noticed Deena agreeing with a nod. “But… that feeling doesn’t come from a place of love, does it? It’s the opposite, really.”

Deena shifted uncomfortably on her seat. “Yeah,” she agreed softly. She couldn’t stop staring at Sam though, and she had a strong suspicion that she was in serious trouble when it came to the things the peculiar au pair could make her feel.

Not too long later, Sam and Deena parted ways and walked to their respective bedrooms, not without a significant amount of awkwardness hanging between them. Especially when Sam nearly crashed against Deena when the brunette stopped in front of her bedroom, because then Sam was a little too aware of standing right outside of Deena’s room. She failed to save the situation by walking away in a flurry of apologies and “goodnight”s, waving so enthusiastically and looking back so nervously that she did crash into a wall and had to dismiss Deena’s soft “Are you okay there, Sunnyvale?”

Finally, Sam made it to her bedroom, locked the door behind her, and shortly later collapsed in her bed. She was restless though, tossing and turning in bed while her mind ran wild. She couldn’t help but flash back to several moments throughout the day she had shared with Deena. She thought about Deena’s smile, and Deena’s frown. About Deena’s obvious defense mechanisms, and Deena begrudgingly letting down her guard in front of her. Deena walking with the shotgun gripped firmly in her hand, Deena draped comfortably over the couch, stealing glances at Sam and boldly refusing to look away when Sam caught her.

Eventually, even though she fought her hardest to restrain herself, Sam’s imagination got the best of her. There was that one moment with the two of them seated close together on the couch. So close that Sam could still remember the warmth of Deena’s arm next to hers. So close that Sam couldn’t stop herself from imagining what would have happened if she had leaned in just a little closer, and then just a little more…

Before picturing exactly what would have happened, Sam made the terrible mistake of rolling to her side again, just to find out she wasn’t alone in bed. She came face to face with a sight that wasn’t that unfamiliar to her, yet it was the most horrible thing she could have imagined. She screamed and scrambled backward in bed until she fell to the ground. She stayed there, eyes closed tightly and tears streaming down her cheeks. She had just seen him. He was right there. He wasn’t in the mirror, he was in her bed, in Shadyside, and it wasn’t fair. She had turned around in bed to see him there more than enough times before. She ran away to avoid precisely this and it didn’t even work. He was there, blinding eyes, a disgusted snarl of his lips, a furious frown, strong arms covered in blood, and the watch on his wrist broken beyond repair. Why was her mind doing this to her?

Sam rocked back and forth on the floor of the bedroom until her breathing calmed down enough. She tentatively raised her head to take a look at the bed, and then the rest of the room. She was alone, completely alone, permanently alone.

Life at Shadyside Manor was complicated enough. But, tragedy and threats aside, Sam’s job was the kid’s education. The next day, there was still a soft rain falling down over the property. They didn’t have another option but to spend the morning cooped up in the classroom, and apparently, it was taking its toll on the teenagers. Well, at least on one of them. Josh was quiet as usual. But Ziggy was in a particularly sour mood. Sam could understand kids trying to act way older than they were. She had worked with eight years old Sunnyvalers who were already looking forward to being CEOs of their parents’ companies. But Ziggy… she was a peculiar case.

“Sam, you’re giving me a headache. Just fucking call me Ziggy, okay?” the teenager complained.

“The headache is mutual, Ziggy,” Sam replied, leaning against the desk in front of the room. “Now, could you please just answer the question?”

“What’s the point?” Ziggy scoffed. “Look, it’s not the first time some emotionally fragile girl tries to teach me arithmetic.”

“What do you mean?”

“It doesn’t matter! This shit is useless in the real world.”

“You need an education, Ziggy, if you ever want to have a life.”

Ziggy chuckled darkly, with bitterness beyond her fifteen years. She slammed a hand on the table in front of her and jumped off her chair. “Fucking maths won’t give me my life back!”

“Ziggy!”

Sam was startled. It was Josh who had called out the girl’s name, and he sounded really angry and not like himself at all. He stood up from his seat and walked slowly toward Constance, who immediately sat down and was suddenly very quiet and still. He placed a hand on her shoulder and she pretty much shuddered at the contact. Sam thought that was really odd, considering she was usually the extroverted and lead troublemaker in their dynamic.

“I apologize for Ziggy’s behavior,” Josh addressed Sam with an odd and unfamiliar formal tone. “I think she needs a moment. We’re just tired of spending the entire day in the classroom. You know, with the storm last night and everything, we’re restless. You get it, don’t you, Samantha?”

Sam tried hard not to visibly frown at the way Josh talked to her. It rubbed her the wrong way. She glanced at the clock and noticed there would have been only about twenty minutes left of the class planned for the morning.

“If you don’t call me that again, we can call it a day for now,” She said.

“Thank you very much,” Josh replied with a grin she had never seen on him before. Well, except for the day when he gave her those roses that made Deena so furious.

As the two teenagers walked to the door of the classroom, Sam addressed the young girl once more. “I expect a better attitude tomorrow, Constance.” It was like the girl didn’t even hear her. “Constance?”

Constance was already on the other side of the door, but when Sam repeated her name she stopped in her tracks. She turned around hastily. “Huh?”

“Did you listen to me?”

“What? Oh. Um… Yeah…” Constance mumbled, looking more than a little confused, and then she walked away in the opposite direction from Josh.

That night, things were much better. The rain had finally stopped not too long ago. During dinner, Ziggy had suggested watching a scary movie with such childish excitement that nobody could have said no to her. Even Simon, not without some hesitation, agreed to stay at the manor one more night, trusting that his neighbor, Mr. McQueeny, was taking good care of his mother.

All of them were having a good time. Ziggy was having the time of her life making fun of the character’s poor decisions. Josh reacted badly to the jump scares, but he proudly announced himself as smartest in the room for predicting almost every single plot twist. Kate and Simon were in a constant argument, because she playfully insisted that her microwaved popcorn was much better than the creative array of snacks he had prepared for their evening.

Sam and Deena were on a different couch, fondly watching the others enjoy themselves. Deena was about to make fun of Sam, who looked almost as scared as the main character of the movie, running for her life. The gardener looked at the woman sitting beside her and she was pleasantly surprised to find Sam meeting her eyes. Sam didn’t look away from Deena, even as her hand moved swiftly to find Deena’s hand, which had been resting on the space between them. The movie and their friend’s fuss continued in the background, but for a moment, Sam and Deena felt like they were the only two people in the world.

Deena couldn’t keep up Sam’s stare. She had to look down at their intertwined hands, to make sure it was real. She gulped nervously and looked back up at Sam. “Are you okay?” she had to ask, dreading that maybe the au pair was just scared of the movie.

Sam smiled a little, and nodded. She squeezed Deena’s hand a little, softly rubbed her thumb over the gardener’s knuckles, and then she let go. She returned her hand to her lap, but she looked happy in a way that Deena hadn’t seen her before. “I actually love these movies,” Sam confessed.

Deena chuckled. Although her hand ached to reach out for Sam again, she understood. “You’re full of surprises, Sunnyvale.”

The two women relaxed, but it was short-lived. A moment later, a loud thunder rattled the entire property, and the lights went out. Apparently, the storm wasn’t done with them. All of them gasped, some of them screamed. The lights came back on, flickered menacingly, and went out again. Everyone scrambled off their seats, Ziggy tried to scare Kate, Simon went off looking for a flashlight, the phone started ringing and everything was a mess. Lightning bolts illuminated the room, only briefly. But, in the commotion, nobody paid any mind to Ryan Torres. He watched everything unfold from a corner of the room. He couldn’t understand everything that happened, he couldn’t make himself be a part of any of it. He glanced at the knife on his hand, and another strike of lightning reflected on it. Still, nobody else noticed.

The ringing of the phone was driving them crazy while trying to deal with the power outage. Deena couldn’t stand it anymore. She marched to the other room and yanked the phone from the wall. “What the fuck you want?” she snapped at the innocent person on the other line. Everyone had followed her lead and Simon was shining a flashlight in her direction when everyone noticed the way the gardener’s face completely changed from annoyance to shock and devastation. “It was your neighbor, Mr. McQueeny,” she was clearly addressing Simon. Her face said it all. “I’m so sorry, Simon.”

#sunday update!!#i hope you like it! please share!!#fear street #sameena #sam x deena #fear street fanfiction #sam fraser #deena johnson #my fic

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haec-est-fides · 4 years

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Sorry to jump into some Heroes of Olympus stuff when I’m trying to stay in my Trials of Apollo lane, but I said to myself that if I saw another post about Octavian that mentioned the pillow pet or the stuffed animals in general, I would snap.

Let’s clarify this once and for all:

It. Was. His. Job.

That’s it.

Of all the things to analyze about him or hold against him, this is the absolute lowest priority. The thing is, it keeps getting circulated (and therefore fixated on as a foundational part of his character lore) because haha funny joke. It’s an easy thing to bully him over when you remove its context (and associated dignity), and that’s exactly what the protagonists do.

Octavian: “You’re letting these intruders into the camp? Reyna, the security risks--”

Reyna: “We’re not taking them to the camp, Octavian. We’ll eat here, in the forum.”

Octavian: “Oh, much better. You want us to relax in the shadow of their warship.”

Reyna: “These are our guests. We will welcome them, and we will talk to them. As augur, you should burn an offering to thank the gods for bringing Jason back to us safely.”

Percy: “Good idea. Go burn your bears, Octavian.”

(The Mark of Athena Ch. II)

The main characters make the stuffed animals a joke so that they can ignore and downplay all of the very serious and relevant things Octavian says. (Which is some seriously bullshit behavior btw.)

As odd as it sounds, gutting stuffed animals is literally the defining role of Octavian’s job as camp augur. He divines the will of the gods / the future via “entrails”. (Sure, that should technically be called haruspicy rather than augury, but I digress.)

Octavian himself explains it to us when he mentions that the ancients used to use real animals, but that times have changed.

“Uh, hi,” Percy said. “Are you killing small animals?”

Octavian looked at the fuzzy thing in his hand and laughed. “No, no. Once upon a time, yes. We used to read the will of the gods by examining animal guts -- chickens, goats, that sort of thing. Nowadays, we use these.”

He tossed the fuzzy thing to Percy. It was a disemboweled teddy bear.

(The Son of Neptune Ch. IV)

A) This was a practical decision by Riordan to maintain an ancient Roman tradition and parallel Camp Half-Blood’s oracle while keeping animal sacrifice out of books for young readers.

B) Nowhere do we have any evidence that it was Octavian who made the choice to change the old tradition and use stuffed animals instead. We don’t know how long augurs have been gutting stuffed animals at Camp Jupiter. Besides, pinning that change on Octavian means that he stopped animal sacrifice, which uhhh seems like a good thing?

Further, I just saw a rather well-intentioned post about Octavian (shocker) that still mentions the stuffed animals as a sign of him potentially being psychotic. This is partly why I’m convinced that the whole issue has been circulating as a joke for too long and, worse, is just badly misinformed.

See, that post argued that Octavian believed he could tell the future by gutting stuffed animals. Key word: believed.

But the canon fact is that he could. Full stop.

Here’s how we’re introduced to him and his abilities:

Clouds swirled over the largest temple, a round pavilion with a ring of white columns supporting a domed roof. “I’m guessing that’s Zeus -- uh, I mean, Jupiter’s? That’s where we’re heading?”

“Yeah.” Hazel sounded edgy. “Octavian reads auguries there -- the Temple of Jupiter Optimus Maximus.”

...

Above them, thunder rumbled. Red lightning lit up the hill.

“Octavian’s almost done,” Hazel said. “Let’s go.”

...

The kid at the altar raised his hands. More red lightning flashed in the sky, shaking the temple. Then he put his hands down, and the rumbling stopped. The clouds turned from gray to white and broke apart.

(The Son of Neptune Ch. IV)

As Percy says, pretty impressive -- especially if it’s somehow fake. How would he even fake that?! He couldn’t.

But, and here’s where our protagonists and their unreliable narration become the problem again, that scene is prefaced by what Hazel says on the way there:

“The camp augur we’re going to meet, Octavian, he’s a legacy, descendant of Apollo. He’s got the gift of prophecy, supposedly.”

“Supposedly?”

Hazel made a sour face. “You’ll see.”

(The Son of Neptune Ch. III)

We do not, in fact, at any point see anything that would warrant her “supposedly”. Hazel simply -- understandably -- hates and mistrusts Octavian because he’s blackmailing her.

The narrators routinely undercut Octavian over everything he does, because they’re biased. It’s no surprise that that mentality / perception had bled into the fandom, but we should be able to recognize that.

While lightning doesn’t happen every time Octavian does an augury, that doesn’t take away any of his credibility. (Personally, I think it would make sense for that to happen only at the Temple of Jupiter Optimus Maximus.) The same goes for his trying over and over again, inability to foresee certain events, and multiple interpretations of auguries. Augury is supposed to work this way.

Another point that proves Octavian could tell the future is that his abilities falter after Python takes Delphi early in Blood of Olympus, just like Rachel’s.

Mike shifted his considerable bulk. “You sound certain. Has your gift of prophecy--”

...

Once Jacob had hobbled off, Octavian’s face clouded. “Mike, I told you not to speak of my, ah, problem. But to answer your question: no, there still seems to be some interference with Apollo’s usual gift to me.” He glanced resentfully at a pile of mutilated stuffed animals heaped in the corner of the porch. “I can’t see the future. Perhaps that false Oracle at Camp Half-Blood is working some sort of witchcraft.”

(The Blood of Olympus Ch. VI)

Octavian’s comment about Rachel implies that his abilities have only been faulty since the legion neared Camp Half-Blood. Ironically, Percy later blames Octavian for Delphi (and therefore Rachel’s abilities) no longer working. Their powers go out simultaneously because they come from the same source.

We also know that Octavian was blessed by Apollo.

“Apollo spoke to me clearly last year at Camp Jupiter! He personally blessed my endeavors.”

(The Blood of Olympus Ch. VI)

Even if that blessing had nothing to do with his prophetic ability, as it seems as if Octavian has been augur for more than a year, it’s significant in that it shows that Apollo recognized and respected Octavian as one of his descendants (before everything went wrong). Being one of the few people to have the power of prophecy would help gaining Apollo’s respect, imo.

TL;DR: The only reason anyone doubts Octavian’s abilities is because the main characters, who canonically hate him and who have made a game of bullying and ignoring him because they don’t like what he has to say, constantly demean and dismiss him.

I’m all for the various interpretations of Octavian that the fandom has made, don’t get me wrong, but I am so tired of the stuffed animals thing. Can we please put it to rest?

#heroes of olympus #hoo #hoo octavian #filodox!#like seriously there are so many reasons you could hate Octavian #and so many reasons you could read him as mentally ill #but this is not one of them !#it's not that deep !#if anything the depth here is in how it reflects on the protags' behavior !#ffs I'm sorry but damn

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therappundit · 4 years

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Best of the 1st Half: 2020′s Best Rap Projects (*so far*)...

“I’ve had, the halftime of my life...!”

*record scratch*

2020, WHAT THE F**K. 😳

Ohhh what a first half it has been. If 2020 ended today, it would still be one of the most historic years in a century...and NOT in a pleasant way. Years from now 2020 will be studied for the long-term damage caused by the COVID-19 pandemic, the potential breaking point (hopefully??) of this country’s ignorance to systematic racism and the need for a complete overhaul of our police departments, and of course, whatever the hell comes from the November Presidential election....and, not to mention whatever additional ‘tbd’ chaos rings in the second half of ‘20 that we haven’t even heard about yet!? These are trying times, folks.

My whole life, I have tried to use humor and entertainment to help me with processing high levels of stress and anxiety. This year, that process has felt more daunting than usual. I am writing less and less, and often find Twitter to be too dark of a place for me to navigate. It’s anything but a fulfilling “escape”. Still, I am constantly inspired by all of the new music that fills my headspace during life’s precious little moments, and it really keeps me grounded in the day to day.

At the end of 2019, I wrote the below in one of my posts. It took me back to a special feeling that I had, at a moment when the future seemed more like an opportunity, rather than a worrisome question mark. I’m going to work towards finding that place again, and I wanted to re-share this because it speaks to how the love of any art can be a healthy reminder of what we have to be thankful for in our daily lives:

“Regardless of how you feel about this list, I hope that you visit (or re-visit) any one of these pieces of strong work and find the same level of enjoyment that I did. I loved so much rap music this year and I could not be more excited about what the future holds. On a personal note, in 2019 I found myself even more in love with my wife, feeling luckier than I have in a long time, more satisfied with my hobbies and passions, and above all else, more in awe of my child (and anyone that ever raised a child) than ever before. I became a father for the first time in 2019, so as my baby daughter continues to fill my heart, I am beginning to wonder what she will think of her father’s love for this art form that has brought him so much joy over the years…I suppose time will tell.”

This list is long, because I think the talent that went into these projects is worth your time (and I put a lot of thought into creating this list as well...I do not work in the industry or know anyone that does, and I do not have any real platform - I just do this because I love the music).

If you are an artist on this list, I want to thank you, because you helped me stay positive and focused on a brighter future that I hope will soon come to us all...because everyone has been through something this year, and we deserve better. So salute to you and many, many others. 🙏🙏🙏

- THE Rap Pundit

The “Rules” for my list of the Best Projects of Q1-Q2 2020:

- the album/mixtape/EP/project/whatever you want to call it had to be released this year, by June 26, 2020

- the project must have at least 6 songs

- these rankings are a combination of my own personal preference, my take on overall quality of the project (whether it speaks deeply to my sensibilities or not), and how the final product compares to other work from the artists’ peers that occupy the same lane/‘sub-genre’ of rap music

So here we go 👀...

1. The Price of Tea in China by Boldy James and The Alchemist

Sometimes the greatest albums are not the most ambitious or flashy, they are remembered based off the strength of artistic chemistry and execution. Basketball fans know the beauty of a perfectly timed chest pass to a teammate streaking towards the basket can be more impressive than a behind the back pass that’s simply done for the sake of showing everyone that you can do a fancy pass. Staying with that theme, The Price of Tea in China is The Alchemist doing his best John Stockton impression, serving to Boldy James’ Karl Malone, and by album’s end you realize that Boldy scored a quiet 40 points while making this rap shit look like an easy lay-up.

TPOTIC finds Boldy sprinkling every ounce of his Detroit seasoning into Al’s pot to yield one of the most Mobb Deep-esque collaboration albums since Mobb Deep was dropping albums. In turn, this project is not only Boldy’s greatest work, but it serves as a re-introduction of a veteran MC that is suddenly more relevant than ever. Much like what Freddie Gibbs and Madlib did with 2019′s Bandana, this project is a great lesson on what MC and Producer chemistry can sound like when both parties are 100% on the same page when it comes to message, tone, and aesthetic goals.

It would make sense that Boldy James would fall into the Griselda fold, because much like Westside Gunn, Conway The Machine and Benny The Butcher, he comes from a city with a rich rap music scene that still struggles to reach the level of exposure that the NYCs, L.A.’s, Chicago's and Atlanta’s have basked in for so long. He writes from a place of “been there, done that”, showing a rich attention to detail that separates his street tales from that of his peers in the same way someone telling a story second or third hand can’t match the level of detail that an eye witness has saved in the memory bank. Boldy has survived both real world and music business challenges to rise from the ashes of “hey whatever happened to so & so, he was about to blow” conversations to reach a new peak in his mid-30′s. He deserved this suite of incredible Alchemist soundscapes (Al is deep in his bag here, delivering some of his most low-key impressive instrumentals in years), and like his super-producer buddy, Boldy is looking down at us from atop an already prolific 2020 at its’ midpoint.

I’m not sure anyone can match the chemistry that Prodigy and Mobb Deep had with The Alchemist, but in 2020, The Price of Tea in China delivers some of the most brutally subdued, occasionally humorous, stripped down rap records since P was throwing TV’s at us like he had nothing left to lose. If The Price of Tea in China isn’t holding the championship at year’s end, it still deserves to be mentioned as an impressive work by one of the strongest title-worthy unions running the pick and roll in the genre today.

2. Àdá Irin by Navy Blue

Okay let’s be honest: the “sub-genre” that is often referred to as lo-fi rap music (whether you consider it an actual lane or not, I know you know what I’m talking about...which I suppose proves its’ existence, right?), is beginning to suffer from the same affliction that all other sub-genres tend to suffer from once the word is out that this is “the thing” that the kids find trendy right now. A lot of folks in this lane sound *exactly* the same to the average listener. I’m not even the average listener, and I often feel that way. The irony that comes with being part of the sound that’s supposed to be bucking the mainstream clone machine turning into a mini-clone machine itself, means that the window is in danger of closing to avoid over-saturation of the artists that are already thriving between the gravelly, whisper-welcoming walls of Soundcloud URLs and Bandcamp EPs being slid to their heady fanbase with zero promotion. So with that all being said...why give Navy Blue a chance?

Navy Blue lacks the name recognition of many of his peers (for now), but he has now been thriving in the lo-fi pocket for some time as both a MC and producer, a young artist that’s closely connected to the lane’s most famous figureheads (Earl Sweatshirt, and to some extent, Mach-Hommy), as well as less heralded trailblazers like MIKE and the whole sLUms collective. Sure you can check out Navy’s Soundcloud page to get a taste of his work, but with this Àdá Irin album, we don’t just hear raw snippets of a freshly discovered unsigned talent. With this album we hear Navy as a self-assured solo artist, capable of sharing an inspirational song with the likes of Ka and sounding like every bit of the veteran next to the iconic soft-spoken lyricist. This is a very, very impressive debut full length album that showcases the best that the (sub)genre has to offer: some experimentation, jazzy loops, the diary-like intimacy of words that sit like dust on an old basement book shelf, and the raw emotions that come from working through love, pain and loss in real time. In 2020 there may be nothing completely new under the sun, but it’s the aesthetic choices that Navy Blue makes with every verse and every instrumental that make Àdá Irin feel like a perfect balance of beauty and sadness. If you want to dip a toe in this water but you’re not sure you can get into the mumblecore-ish world of MIKE, MAVI, Medhane or Earl’s work from the past two years, this Navy Blue album might actually be the perfect intro.

3. A Written Testimony by Jay Electronica (featuring JAY-Z)

Not a lot of positive breaking news in 2020...but when Jay Electronica surprised Twitter with a few cryptic Tweets back in February, implying that he was dropping an album (and Jay-Z would likely be involved), the rap game was set ablaze with excitement, skepticism, disbelief, and hope (albeit with some measured caution there as well).

This is something that fans, and arguably the entire rap world, had been clamoring for for a decade, many long since moving on believing that Jay Elec’s debut album had gone the way of Detox, sharing “1a & 1b” status as the most eagerly anticipated projects none of us seriously expected to hear.

Then it dropped....and then it went. In a Twitter-run rap world, quality is too often measured by how long a piece of art stays within the “trending” mix, as opposed to...well, whether or not it’s actually good! The truth is, A Written Testimony is not just good, it’s very, very good, and while it’s not the “Illmatic 2″ that some may have been expecting, realistically it’s superior to what I imagined a new project from such a reclusive artist would sound like in 2020. If you at least try to table the expectations laid out when “Exhibit C” came out in 2009...I think you will find a project (it’s up to you whether or not you want to count this a “solo debut” or not, but at this point, it’s new Jay Electronica - can we just leave it at that??) stacked with memorable moments, quotable gems throughout, stellar production (this is one of the best produced projects of 2020 by far, not sure how/why this piece of the puzzle would receive anything less than acclaim), and some moments of questionable preaching made more palatable by a strong overall voice and package.

Jay Electronica raps with conviction throughout, and while the project feels brief, it lasts long enough to be more than a quick feeling, even if many feel that it’s not long enough to feel like a full album. If "Exhibit C" was the teaser then this is the redband trailer, flashing enough skill and details to resonate for far longer than its’ duration. Much has been said about the heavy hand of JAY-Z on most of the project’s 7 tracks, but let’s be clear, this is not Watch The Throne 2 (even though at points, it may feel like something along those lines). Yes, in impressive fashion, Hov comes through riding shotgun to show a deeper shade of one of his more complex dimensions, with many of his rhymes begging for dissection with every bar. However, AWT features a JAY-Z that’s rapping through Jay Electronica’s lens, not by any means where 4:44 or Everything Is Love left off. This is definitely a Jay Electronica album. AWT dives in and out of Jay Electronica’s beliefs in broad strokes that appear and disappear rather quickly, but even when certain verses raise more questions than provide answers, every song still has at least a handful of the gripping words that remind us of what made Jay Elec-Hanukkah sound like the chosen one in the first place (his tussle with writer’s block and hesitation to put out any art make for some of the projects most engaging moments).

If A Written Testimony is the last Jay Electronica album we ever here - which I truly hope it is not the case - it is still a memorable piece of work. So if you were one of the folks that moved on from it after the “surprise” of Jay finally dropping a project subsided, I hope you change that stance and revisit it once again.

4. Descendants of Cain by Ka

“Quiet and frigid disposition, growin' up in the cold / Surprised I ain't get high from what I was low enough to behold / Like when Pops shot at the neighbor's shop, put one in his head / He knew how he grew me, threw me the gun, a hundred, and fled / Didn't play, 'fore po' arose dispose of exhibit A / I was raised to age a few years in a day / If not elite, didn't eat if you didn't pray / As much as I heal, had to deal, all my scars are here to stay / Our senseis spent days peddling / Our heroes sold heroin.” - Ka, “Patron Saints”

He makes it seem almost too easy. If the writing wasn't so gripping, you might not even revisit it. Ka’s Descendants of Cain arrived with little fanfare, except for the collective awe of his humble but religiously devoted fan-base. The religious devotion is an important piece here, as Cain adds to Ka’s quietly impressive discography another strong album that leans on classic scribes as inspiration to spin poignant metaphors on Brooklyn street philosophy.

This time, the classic work is the Christian Bible, and Ka being the brilliant MC/poet that he is, seems to have little trouble working with the medium to preach without sounding preachy, and wax familiar-sounding nostalgia over wax that sounds as dusty as it feels fresh, rich, and urgent. Producing much of the album himself, along with a few trusted collaborators, the album’s strength is in its’ density, as each song feels like it requires a pause to unpack every bar...and to be honest, that’s exactly the type of attention this work deserves. If you missed this one in the first half of 2020′s feverish dump of new releases, you need to remedy that immediately.

5. Pray for Paris by Westside Gunn

If The Alchemist is the overall rap music MVP for his many contributions to 2020 thus far, Westside Gunn may deserve at least a few honorable mentions. From becoming the ambassador of Buffalo New York to stepping up as an ambassador of the underground rap resurgence, I don’t think any other rap artist has done more to run with the torch that Roc Marciano has been waving for a damn decade than the Griselda mastermind. If you happened to hear Gunn name-dropping to Peter Rosenberg on Rosenberg’s long-standing Real Late show on Hot 97, you know exactly what I mean. Shouting-out close allies and lesser known peers alike, Gunn’s presence proudly announced the underground movement’s invasion of the highly known New York City radio station. It felt like ECW invading WWE’s Monday Night Raw all over again. Of course Gunn’s voice was met with more ears than usual during that interview, since that appearance came hot off the heels of the release of his much discussed side project turned full-blown album, Pray for Paris.

By now most fervent rap fans know the story behind the album (a project that miraculously arrived to completion while Gunn was suffering from the affects of coronavirus), but for many Pray for Paris is the introduction to the story of Griselda Records and the world that they revel in. If Conway the Machine and Benny the Butcher are responsible for the Griselda team’s grittiest street tales, Westside Gunn’s success leans on his ability to blur the line between all-too-real violence and cartoon violence, splattered with elite luxury references and shout-outs for his fellow wrestling addicts. The song titles are merely scattered trains of thoughts that may or may not have anything directly to do with a song’s actual meaning, it’s like naming your child ‘brunch in Williamsburg’ just because it was the last meal you happened to have that day. An audience brought up on Lil Wayne as the God MC may be completely lost at the appeal, but audiences brought up on Wu, DOOM and Sean Price know exactly what vibe Westisde Gunn is going for.

At times Gunn can come across as more of a talent curator than a stand alone MC, so if this is the album that takes Gunn to the next level as a rap star, it would make him the most unselfish rap star to come along in some time. A rapper doesn’t jump on an Alchemist produced track with the likes of Freddie Gibbs and Roc Marciano and expect to leave with anything but the Bronze medal. The same can be said for his chopped and screwed contribution to “Claiborne Kick”, which clearly belongs to Boldy James. That’s not to say that Gunn’s verse is a weak moment on any of the joints on Paris, but the fact that he consistently surrounds himself with high caliber writers confirms that he is well aware that the quality of the final product will be determined by the team involved, not just the artists’ name on the album cover.

For someone that considers himself more of an artist than a rapper, he continues to paint intriguing collages with every album, featuring him at the center of an ever-expanding portrait of MCs, producers, singers, designers, and dancers. Pray for Paris is a typical Griselda project that also happens to sport the potential of something larger than most of their fanbase ever imagined. Yes we get the dark backdrops, elite underground production, and quotables throughout, but we also get a few additional shades, as Gunn dabbles with a “beauty and the beast” dynamic that cleanly pairs his violent imagery with fashionista pomp and circumstance (which no doubt helped draw the likes of Wale and Tyler, the Creator to this project). But t’s all less of a solo album to push a mainstream solo career forward, and much more of a cannonball through the mainstream wall, just to allow some sunlight to shine on his people...and his city, for that matter - because best believe, Paris may be the inspiration behind the project but Buffalo, New York is still with him every step of the way.

6. Alfredo by Freddie Gibbs and The Alchemist

A highly enjoyable surprise drop from two-thirds of the potent combination that gave us the fan favorite project that was Fetti (shout-out to Curren$y, though), Alfredo feels like the perfect treat to hold us over during these trying times. It feels rushed, but simultaneously sharp and activated. It has the feeling of a controlled experiment that was slapped together in separate rooms, rather than carefully curated by multiple artists hunched over the same mixer for days on end. Alfredo is more of a display of two power hitters putting on an impressive showing at a Home Run Derby, rather than the collaboration that has been slowly simmering for years...but that’s also part of the fun, because it feels like Al & Fredo (eh?) were just as excited to release it as we all were to hear it.

Neither party is reinventing the wheel here, but if you are going to have a rapper and a producer connect for an album of great rapping over great beats, you would be hard pressed to find a more natural pairing than these two. The Alchemist delivers with samples that channel the speakeasy jazz of an old piano, and Freddie is simply the king of hard-rap soul right now, so he excels on every song. There are moments of darkness, moments of hope, and moments of self reflection (Gibbs is a logical choice to swing haymakers back at cops abusing their power), all delivered by Freddie at a break-neck speed over Al's significantly less urgent production....as if Gibbs frantically spilled his guts to his buddy over the phone while Al was kickin’ back with a joint saying “uh-huh...yup, I hear ya man.” The final result is an effective one, if not a quick teaser of what a lengthier amount of collaboration time between the two might sound like. It should also be said that the guest verses on this album (especially those from Tyler, The Creator and Conway) took this album up a few spots on this ‘best of’ list. Alfredo is easily one of the strongest surprises of 2020.

7. Reasonable Drought by Stove God Cook$ and Roc Marciano

There is a tradition in the rap music biz that newer/younger artists are often shepherded along by more seasoned artists in order to insure that the less experienced artist is blessed with the built-in audience that comes with a co-sign. It doesn’t always work, but typically the initiation comes with a solid musical foundation on a debut project accompanied by a greener MC still finding his/her way. Not the case with Stove God Cook$, he is perhaps the most unexpectedly fresh MC to be cut from classic rap cloth since Griselda & Mach-Hommy began to build cult-like followings.

While Reasonable Drought (and seriously, how bold of a title is that for a debut!?) is blessed by the impressive production and mentorship of underground rap icon Roc Marciano, it truly is the lesser known MC himself that captures the imagination right from the get-go. When I say that in my life time, I cannot recall such a strong debut performance by a MC that I have heard virtually no work from prior to his 2019 emergence, with the help of minimal publicity/ad budget (if any? Cook$ was barely on social media until *after* his album had already been released) on his way to dropping an album with zero features...then you should take my recommendation very seriously. Fresh style, some of the most rewind-worthy quotables in recent memory (an Uncle Buck reference!? Bow down, people), and a new following built exclusively on the word of mouth of equal-minded folks that were blown away by a project many copped on a passing whim... it’s clear that this moment could be the beginning of an amazing, fascinating career.

Similar to Roc Marciano before him, Cook$ possesses a rare flare with his wordplay and delivery that makes even the ugliest tales of coke dealing and disrespectful criminal activity sound like the colorful exploits of a post-Blaxploitation hero. He delivers every bar with the uber-specific word choice of Roc, but the outgoing swag of a Max B. The man that has people that never touched cocaine in their life singing that they’re “smelling like a brick right now”, is smelling like a winner in 2020 and beyond.

8. Battle Scar Decorated by Monday Night & Henny L.O.

Last call to board the Mutant Academy bandwagon!

I have been saying that this deep underground collective of MCs & producers has been low key having a banner year all year long, and scrolling through this list you can see exactly what I mean. Henny L.O. is too good to be slotted as just a battle rapper, while Monday Night is far too strong of a presence to be considered a mere associate of the core Mutant team. When you think of Mutant Academy and their respective affiliated acts, think of them as a gathering of solo artists that happen to make dope rap music together, but all parties involved are capable of standing on their own two. I think that’s what consistently impresses me about their projects...hat, and the lack of filler material.

Along with a deep Rolodex of mostly under-the-radar talent, the hunger and confidence of a thriving Richmond, Viriginia rap scene is present on every track of Battle Scar Decorated. Much like many of my favorite albums of 2020, there is no reinventing of the wheel here, the triumph is in the execution. Monday & Henny tag in and out, each with the confidence that they have spit the best verse on the song before they have even finished. It’s that level of ability combined with a shocking amount of production talent that makes Battle Scar Decorated essential listening to anyone that wants to be reminded of a vibe that hasn’t been in abundance in the underground rap scene since L.A. in the late 90′s. It wouldn’t be fair to talk about how much I enjoyed this project without including the great producers involved, so a big s/o to: Sycho Sid, C.R.I.S.T.E.N, James Couch, Savvy, Heather Grey, and Ewonne.

9. Eastern Medicine, Western Illness by Preservation

Accompanied by a who’s who of underground hip-hop’s finest (Roc Marciano, Mach-Hommy, Your Old Droog, Quelle Chris, Nickelus F, Tree, Navy Blue, Billy Woods, Ka *and more* - I mean seriously!?), Preservation has assembled an impressively cohesive compilation album both sonically and thematically.

Incorporating record samples from his travels in China, Eastern Medicine, Western Illness feels born in simplicity even though it is anything but a casual collection of dope verses over tightly wound production. A quietly gifted producer, Preservation knows how to squeeze the best out of his guests without shouting the results through the speakers, the choices are more subtle but yield a high impact and replay value. Listening to the project feels more like listening to a secret, unreleased project, because it’s hard to believe that this much talent would gift this much high caliber writing to a compilation of songs...although that was not uncommon in the 90′s and early 00′s (ah, I’m showing my old age again). Perhaps that’s a testament to Preservation’s vision, a DJ/producer with a relatively small catalog built on curated quality (see his fantastic 2015 collaboration with Ka on Days With Dr. Yen Lo). Eastern Medicine has enough talent involved that it could have been a worthy listen even if it was just as a hodgepodge of donated loosies, so the fact that the final product is so much more than that makes it an album that warrants a great deal of more attention.

10. The Allegory by Royce Da 5′9″

No accomplished lyricist makes life harder on himself than Royce Da 5′9″. Be it his tendency to cram personal observations and disclosures in and around his punchlines, or experimenting production wise, the Detroit veteran is intent on finding new ways to approach fine wine music, tossing more complex offerings into his catalog over the past few years. Things are no different with The Allegory.

Not only did Royce once again pen an album that speaks to his ability to cope with his own past and present, he inserts himself in the producer chair as well, addressing the trials and tribulations of the increasingly problematic world around him, over backdrops crafted by only his hand a a few trusted peers. The effect is mostly successful, with the production exceeding the expectations of many (myself included), while the writing is at times both thought-provoking and in need of further exploration on Royce’s part. The guest features range from effective to scene stealing (not because Royce ‘s verse is outshined, but there are moments where it seems as if the guest is better suited over Royce’s own production than he is). If you’re Royce Da 5′9″ and you release an album titled The Allegory, no one should expect a simple quick fix of bars over easily digestible instrumentals. The highs come in abundance, and while the lows come in small trip-ups and the occasional skit that the listener probably could have done without, you get the sense that with some editing and further focus of his lofty goals, his sermons could have been sharpened into a more effective analysis of many of his topics (the music business, being black in America, history, conspiracy theories), resulting in an incredible album instead of a very good one. Nevertheless, it is all worth the ride to hear the latest work from one of rap music’s most gifted MC’s from the past decade. If The Allegory isn’t a home-run, it’s at the very least a strong base hit.

Top 50 (all belong in the Top 10-25, but...there’s only 25 spots in the Top 25, soooo):

11. Cold Water by Medhane

12. Shrines by Armand Hammer

13. Bag Talk by yungmorpheus & Pink Siifu

14. Try Again by ovrkast.

15. RTJ4 by Run The Jewels

16. Noise Kandy 4 by Rome Streetz

17. Innocent Country 2 by Quelle Chris

18. Weight of the World by MIKE

19. Sages by Henny L.O. & Ohbliv

20. Milestones by Skyzoo

21. Carpe Noctem by Big Ghost Ltd

22. Lake Water by SeKwence

23. At the End of the Day. by Fly Anakin

24. Sole Food by Deniro Farrar

25. The Oracle 3 by Grafh

26. The Blue Tape by Tree

27. lo&behold by lojii

28. Infinite Wisdom by Lord Jah-Monte Ogbon

29. FULL CIRCLE by Medhane

30. UNLOCKED by Denzel Curry & Kenny Beats

31. The Throwaways by The Opioid Era

32. Anyways by Young Nudy

33. PTSD (Deluxe) by G Herbo

34. Holly Favored by Monday Night & Foisey

35. THE GOAT by Polo G

36. Demon & Mufasa by Yhung T.O. & DaBoii

37. The Face of Jason by ANKHLEJOHN

38. My Turn by Lil Baby

39. No One Mourns the Wicked by Conway & Big Ghost Ltd.

40. Two4one by Jay Worthy

41. Free Drakeo by Drakeo

42. Alone Time by YL

43. Assata by CV$ a.k.a. Con$piracy & Teller Bank$

44. Thug Tear by Big Kashuna O.G. & Monday Night

45. Ways and Means by Rasheed Chappell & 38 Spesh

46. IMMORTALKOMBAT by Al Divino & Estee Nack

47. Young & Turnt 2 by 42 Dugg

48. Sleeper Effect by Sleep Sinatra

49. Juno by Che Noir & 38 Spesh

50. LULU by Conway & The Alchemist

THE REST OF THE BEST (all belong in the Top 50 releases of 2020, but..what can I say, blame 2020 for being such a stacked year for music/events I guess):

Black Schemata by yungmorpheus, The Smartest by Tee Grizzley, Polly by the Powder Keg by Chuck Chan & Pad Scientist, High Off Life by Future, Gotham City Album by Plex Diamonds, Memphis Massacre 2 by Duke Deuce, Poetic Substance by RIM & Vinyl Villain, Styles David: Ghost Your Enthusiasm by Styles P, MF Bloo by Bloo & Spanish Ran, LSD by The Leonard Simpson Duo & Guilty Simpson, Funeral by Lil Wayne, RAW UNKNOWN by Spectacular Diagnostics, Nezzie’s Star by Eddie Kaine, ShrapKnel (self-titled), The Bluest Note by Skyzoo & Dumbo Station, WUNNA by Gunna, Get Money Teach Babies by Heist Life & Spanish Ran, Open Casket by Killer Kane, 6 Rings by Yung Mal, The Beauty of It by Eto, Meet The Woo 2 by Pop Smoke, Fresh Air by UFO Fev & Statik Selektah, Vito by Vince Ash, GRIMM & EViL by GRiMM Doza, RUDEBWOY by CJ Fly, Rocket to Nebula by Killah Priest, EVERYTHING by Kota the Friend, NO Blade of Grass by V Don, Eternal Atake by Lil Uzi Vert, I’m My Brother’s Keeper by Yella Beezy & Trapboy Freddy, Carhartt Champions by Tree Mason, Viral Viral! by Dunbar, Rowhouse Whispers by Ray West & Zilla Rocca, Magneto Was Right #4 by Raz Fresco, DUMP LIFE by Tha God Fahim, Jay NiCE & Left Lane Didon, Burn One, Tap In, Zone Out by Dot Demo, FNTG: From Niggaz to Godz by Squeegie O, PANAGNL4E, Vol. 2 by Los and Nutty, Death 2 All Haterz 2 by Rigz & Symph, Thank You For Using GTL by Drakeo & JoogSzn, Adjust to the Game by Larry June, Martyr’s Prayer by Elcamino & 38 Spesh, BETTER by Deante’ Hitchcock, Attack of the Future Shocked, Flesh Covered, Meatbags of the 85 by $ilkMoney, No Cosign Just Cocaine 3 by Ty Farris, Hear No Equal by Chuuwee, MSYKM by Tsu Surf, Your Birthday’s Cancelled by Iron Wigs, Spring Clean by Curren$y & Fuse, Arctic Plus Degrees (The Sun Don’t Chill Allah) by Planet Asia & DirtyDiggs, Psychological Cheat Sheet by Vic Spencer, Glass 2.0 by Meyhem Lauren & Harry Fraud, Trust the Chain by Planet Asia & 38 Spesh, Director’s Cut (Scene Two) by Ransom & Nicholas Craven, and Son Of A Gun by Key Glock.

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thisisgracetrying · 4 years

Text

My fav lyrics from Folklore.

So I listened to the album pretty carefully and wrote down the lyrics that moved me. Granted this album is full of poetry and majesty verses & bridges. This is just my personal take:

The 1: "we were something don't you think so? Rosé flowing with your chosen family & it would've been sweet, if it could've been me" This song is so beautiful because it is not sad, it is not regretful, its just like a trip back memory lane, what could've been but wasn't, and being okay with that.

Cardigan: "I knew you'd haunt all of my what ifs, the smell of smoke would hang around this long 'cause I knew everything when I was young". I truly felt like I knew everything back then.

The last great american dynasty: "Holiday House sat quietly on that beach free of women with madness, their men and bad habits & then it was bought by me"

honorable mention to: "In a feud with her neighbor she stole his dog & dyed it key lime green" what a master mind Rebekah was. I wish she was my aunt.

Exile: "Those eyes add insult to injury".

My tears ricochet: "you had to kill me but it killed you just the same, cursing my name, wishing I'd stayed".

Mirrorball: "I've never been a natural, all I do is try, try, try. I'm still on that trapeze, I'm still trying everything to keep you looking at me" Honestly, same sis. This reminded me of those times I would completely change myself so people would like me. The constant struggle of not feeling good enough, it feels like it never ends

Seven: "And I've been meaning to tell you, I think your house is haunted, your dad is always mad and that must be why and I think you should come live with me and we can be pirates and you won't have to hide or cry in the closet"

honorable mention to: "before I learned civility I used to scream ferociously anytime I wanted". This song hits differently, I had a childhood best friend (who I still talk to from time to time) and her parents used to fight all the time and it was just very messy, bad and sad, she is okay now. I have plenty of love for her. Also my brother is always telling me that I used to be so happy, free and wild when I was very little, he's always joking saying "idk what happened to you when you got old" and I wish I had the answer lol.

August: "To live for the hope of it all, cancel plans just in case you'd call". Girl, this song. I've been this girl, many times. The first guy I ever fell in love with, made me believe I was only good enough to be the second option, he was my James, and that stock with me for years. It took lots of self love & therapy to realize that I was worthy of a beautiful and healthy relationship. So I feel deeply for this song.

This is me trying: "They told me all my cages were mental, so I got wasted like all my potential and my words shoot to kill when I'm mad, I have lot of regrets about that". Is this me? yes, this is grace trying. I've been working on not saying hurtful things when I'm mad, I've gotten a lot better, thank God. Words can be so sharp they can leave the deepest scars.

Illicit affairs: "Look at this godforsaken mess that you made me...". Yup, that's exactly how it feels.

Invisible strings: "Time, mystical time... cutting me open, then healing me fine". Ok so this song is basically me and my husband. We were best friends when I was 14 and he was 16. He was in love with me but I didn't have a clue, we grew apart, but then this invisible string brought us together, when I was living in Argentina & he was living in Colombia, after a few months of talking all day, everyday and long facetime nights, I came here and the rest is story, less than a year from that we got married. He's my soulmate. one single thread of gold, tied me to you"

honorable mention: "one single thread of gold, tied me to you" & "Cold was the steel of my axe to grind for the boys who broke my heart, now I send their babies presents". The growth.

Mad woman: "I'm taking my time cause you took everything from me, watching you climb, over people like me". It makes me so ANGRY (lol) when people specially men refer to women like "oh she is SO MAD" because no one goes mad for no reason, but sure, let's turn a blind eye to that and just shame the woman.

Epiphany: "someone's daughter, someone's mother holds your hand through plastic now". I think it's important to remember that every single doctor is someone's relative, friend and partner, we are facing a global pandemic and we need to kind to ourselves and others.

Betty: "If you kiss me will it be just like I dreamed it? will it patch your broken wings? I'm only 17, I don't know anything but I know I miss you". Betty is my favorite song off the album. I love it so much, maybe it's because it's country, maybe it is because the story is adorable (even tho I dislike James for what he did to the August girl) I find it to be sincere and relatable. We have all been Betty and sadly We have also been James, because unintentionally or not, we have all broken hearts and wish we didn't and we find ourselves begging for a 2nd chance.

Peace: "all these people think love is for show but I would die for you in secret". This verse is just so poetic and heartfelt. I love it.

Hoax: "You knew it still hurt underneath my scars from when they pulled me apart, but what you did was just as dark". Do you feel this one? damn I swear when I first listened to this verse I was goosebumps all over my body. How cruel it is when you give your all to someone, your time, your love your secrets and they just... walk away unbothered.

So these are my favorites. I loved this album with everything in me, its my favorite so far. This is the album I hoped @taylorswift would make one day. I love the softness, the pureness, the feelings. This album is a gift to us, and I'm forever grateful. I cant wait hear "The Lakes".

@taylorswift @taylornation

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9uk · 5 years

Text

The Stranger I Met On The Bus

⌲ summary : Your life became a mess of colours the day you decided to leave the luxurious comfort of your home and board the same bus a wandering Namjoon was on.

⌲ pairing : namjoon x reader

⌲ word count : 12.6k

⌲ genre: slow burn......fluff, angst, smut, strangers2lovers...? or not. unrequited love but fate does it thing ye

⌲ warnings : rough times man, sexual scenes

a/n: it’s super messy & horrible i know...but i’ve been dying to get this out and i’ve been feeling all sorts of things as of late :’

“Is there something you need?” He starts, after having mulled over the reason behind your incessant gawking for long.

You blinked.

Something you need? Was there something you need? Why was he suddenly questioning you?

How are you going to tell him that he looks so much like somebody you used to know?

The both of you stayed right there, staring at each other with an equal amount of confusion.

You couldn’t take your eyes off him the first time you saw him. It was a brief, yet impactful eye contact shared. The split second his eyes locked with your own had your insides whirring like a washing machine. He looked around your age, perhaps a little older. Obvious dimples and agonisingly familiar mono lids. Something about the way he left your orbs as fast as they landed on them made you feel like something was going on.

It was too quick.

Too fast till it exposed his scheme. The guy had been watching you the whole time, and you had successfully caught him red-handed. Or maybe you were seeing things. Feeling things. Things you could not decipher what were.

Coincidence is a strange occurrence not many have in their lives. Some call it fate, but really you’d like to believe it as just pure luck. It’s baffling how a mere stranger could be the reason behind your insides shimmering with excitement again.

The bus station was bustling with business men rushing off to their destinations, families making their way back home, or even, wandering souls who have lost their sense of direction in life, travelling far away from their abodes to seek comfort in the beauty of escaping. Take you, for example. To sum it up, you were running away from some family matters back at home. Ones that require way more energy and attention than you can handle.

You were just in line to collect your ticket for the entire bus journey. Quite a long and drawn-out ride, you would say. You silently thanked your brain for the abrupt cue to bring your book along just as you stepped out of the house. 11 hours. What on earth were you going to do spending half a day coped up in a long, empty carriage?

“Nothing,” Your lips finally discovered the courage to open up and let a word out. The exchange of weirded out, perplexed faces of expression resumed.

He raises his brows slightly, expecting you to provide the actual cause as a continuation.

It was a millisecond away from him turning his head back into his own business. But a millisecond seems a tad too long for your short fused patience on a Friday morning.

“What? I said nothing.” The last word is shot like a poison dart to the neck—attack acting as the best shield—and the stranger is utterly surprised by the switch in attitude.

He gets the red-light, diverting eyes to the front in an instant and pressing his lips into a firm line. Your feistiness cooled down and regret immediately settled in as your tone replays in your head.

You absolutely hated repeating yourself and towards the man who resembled him too much, you lost all the rationality you contained. It probably looked like you were a temperamental piece of shit who obviously had some serious anger issues, making it tough to convince him otherwise. You want to apologise straight away, you really do. But you find yourself tongue-tied wondering if you should say it with the pronoun or not. By the time you’ve arrived to a decision, it was too late. Apologising a few minutes after the outburst of questionable annoyance would just seem...weird.

Like you have been thinking about him all this while.

Which isn’t true, at all.

A tiny seed of ego sprouted until you were crossing your arms in fumes, mainly irritated at your own cranky behaviour.

You swore to the heavens that you were much nicer than the nasty impression you left on him.

It was just, a slip of the tongue. At an absurdly wrong timing.

Yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him those two words that could clear your name.

Two hours of terrible attempts at falling asleep. The interaction with the handsome lad troubling the entrance of your dreams. The initial road is a bumpy one, the movements of the vehicle not coordinating with your pulse. One hundred and twenty minutes of stressing over the stranger of familiarity just inches away from you. He smelled like Seven thousand and two hundred seconds of—

“Excuse me, I want to get off.”

The lids you have been trying to press shut to let the unconsciousness close in on you flew open. Back jerking straight up, you realise you were in his way of leaving his seat.

The bus was almost empty, randomly splattered with a few passengers who did not need anything outside of this carriage. Vision a blur, you can only make out a big bright red panel that signified a gas station. He is a man patient enough to let you settle out of your trance before making space for his exit.

“Sorry.”

You snatch your purse and decided to get out of the bus as well.

From behind, a giant figure looms over yours and a sense of smallness washes over you.

Was your seat buddy always this tall?

You never noticed.

The mart at this particular gas station sucks. Out of 10, it barely even made pass 4.

You scanned the rows of snacks once more, as if doing just that would bring your cheese rings into existence. Forget about cheese rings, there weren’t even cheese balls available! The staple of snacks, king of crunches—to you, at the very least.

Shoving your hands into the pockets of your hoodie, you sighed in exasperation.

It is then you are suddenly reminded of the encounter with the guy sitting beside you.

It was time you got rid of the perpetual habit of yours to unleash your annoyance on anyone or anything.

After carefully reviewing every item under the snacks section, you ended up furrowing your brows at a bag of sour cream and onion chips. The grumble rolling off your stomach forces you to grab it off the shelf.

The kiosk is filled with people who were in the same bus as you, but yet you find yourself searching for a specific someone. You remember paying him no mind when you made a beeline for the mart, not wanting to waste anymore time from this precious brief stopover. For the familiar face that you still cannot put together the similarities. The uncanny resemblance in both their heights. It’s a funny thing because you always have a thing for guys around 6 feet tall.

The aluminium crinkles in your grasp as you fail to spot him. And there you are, left wondering about where the tall guy had went.

Placing your sole purchase onto the counter, you glanced over the lollipops decorated in a spiral. You absentmindedly stare at the wide array of bright colours with the beeping sound of your chips being scanned into the register.

Your focus seems to drift away, for you don’t seem to notice the cashier announcing the price of your potato chips.

“I’ll have this too,” Snapping out of the sandcastle building, you fish out a five dollar bill to the poor shop assistant who only just began her shift. “Thanks.”

Stepping outside, a fresh breath of wind whooshes past your face and you never felt this alive. Mainly because you’ve also never been up this early for so long and the morning air really hits different. It’s been forever since you actually witnessed the sun in its early form. It’s been also so long since you’ve had breakfast, and it being a bag of chips is fabulous and says a lot about your eating habits.

Most of the passengers are queuing for the public washroom, some are still lingering in the store heating up a grilled cheese or whatever. And so you drive yourself out of the lane and wander around with the remaining time left.

That would be a lie, truth to be told.

You weren’t just basically wandering around.

You were wandering around in hopes of bumping into that man.

Your legs brought your idling form to the corner of the walls of petrol kiosk.

You were not wholly surprised when you saw exactly what your mind pictured; him standing there leaned back against the white bricks and maybe, a cigarette in hand.

Except there was no tobacco or the cap he was wearing earlier on in sight, just him lowering the cellphone from his ear with dejection written all over his face. Did someone just relay a piece of bad news to him? Or did his girlfriend break up with him over the phone?

You stand there, taking in his gorgeous side profile and the cute tip of his nose you want to kiss. His Adam apple bobs as he swallows and tucks the phone back into the pocket of his navy pants. No one else has the ability to wear an outfit so baggy and casual and look like they belong on the runway. It’s like he knows which style suits him best and puts each piece of clothing to their fullest potential. His exposed brown locks fall over his eyes and your fingers itch to run through them and sweep his hair back.

It is in the middle of your not-so-subtle gawking when his gaze rises and falls onto you.

The expression on his face drops even further if possible, and he stumbles for the right words. The following squint of his eyes tells you that he did not thoroughly enjoy your presence. You roll the ball of the sweet in your palm nervously.

“W-Wha—How long have you been standing there?” The doubt flows out of his mouth and a clear displeasure in his tone.

Shorter than he thinks, definitely. You’ve only just arrived.

“A couple of seconds ago.”

The suspicion of you eavesdropping is not completely wiped off his face despite your answer. The despondency from before has somewhat grown into vexation, and he is ready to leave you alone in this alley.

The tension between the two of you is unbearable, like he has nothing to say to you or even annoyed by your existence while your fingers wrap around the lollipop stick even tighter.

“Hey,” You step in his way, but bodies not touching at all.

Gulping, you raise the candy in front of you.

“I-I wanted to apologise for earlier on,” You ignored the stammering and carried on. “I was being plain rude to you for no reason at all. I was having a bad morning and you just look so much like someone I used to know I-” You’re rambling and he cuts you off deadly.

“Is that all?”

Your breath hitches in your throat and you realise there’s nothing else left to say. God, the lollipop in your hand makes you feel so stupid now. He’s trying to dismiss you as quickly as possible while you wish to become acquaintances with him. You were overthinking it. He is saving the embarrassment for you. This man was driving you crazy. Firstly from how scarily similar he looks to him and second from how you wanted to know everything about him now. The impression he left on you is near perfect—patient, understanding and an offbeat sadness adorning his features.

And the impression you left on him is a horrible, distasteful one. A kind of impression you would never want anyone to have of yourself, let alone the guy who looked so ravishing and have been nothing but nice towards you.

Why would someone acting blue be any of your business?

Precisely, because it’s this guy who you caught staring at you in the bus interchange and it’s the same guy who you lashed out at and again, the guy who you are currently offering a goddamned lollipop to.

You wanted to know who he was calling and why he looked so sad. You wanted so badly to wrap him in your arms and tell him that everything’s going to be fine. The important question however, remains untouched. Why were you trying to fix somebody when you were so broken yourself? You have been so deprived of proper love and care that you want him. It’s a rash burst of infatuation for that man.

If this is what the hours at the start of the day did to your buzzed head and racing heart, you finally understand why you constantly slept in till the peace of afternoon came.

All in all, you just needed him to accept the apology and move on.

You painfully muster the courage to avert your eyes from pink ball and look up at him.

“Yeah, that is all.”

A lie, because you have so much more to say to him and is in no position to put the thoughts out like that. There was no other way to explain a peculiar connection you one-sidedly felt with him without sounding creepy as hell.

He simply takes your answer as it is and receives the strawberry lollipop from you.

The way his slender fingers brushes over the back of your hand sends a shiver straight to your spine. He was warm and cold, polite yet dismissive. A walking contradiction, truly. A contrast that has you secretly swooning over him even more.

Nonetheless, you were glad he did not shove a rejection in your face.

Of all things that you could have done, you foolishly got yourself into a predicament with him like this.

Once everyone was comfortably seated, the bus driver hops on and whirs the bulky engine to life once more.

When you returned to your seat, the wrapper had already been ripped off and the lollipop was being savoured in his mouth already. You try to hide the blooming smile on your face.

You were busy plucking the petals of a non-existent flower in your mind, contemplating at maximum whether or not you should strike a conversation with him.

If you did, you played out the different possibilities of responses he could have and how to carry on talking no matter what. It’s been quite some time since you’ve actually tried to talk to a stranger, and it was hard. But the desire to get to know him is diminishing all the worries bubbling inside you. When there’s a will, there’s a way indeed.

Rehearsing your voice in your head, you wait for the perfect timing to start speaking.

He was not doing anything much, still suckling on the ball of sugar and looking out the window.

You can’t help but admire his angelic features for a while. The cosiness of this coach granted the close proximity you had with him, allowing you to be able to catch a whiff of his smell. He didn’t smell like the sharp colognes of business men that flooded office areas, but rather, he had a soft lotion scent that was not too thick for your nose to hurt, yet subtle which has you craving for more.

Topped off with that coldness in his attitude and gentlemanly ways, you really are beginning to develop a tiny crush on him.

Very, tiny.

You have not much time left, it was easy to figure when someone was shamelessly planting their eyes on you.

He had no earpiece on, which was a good sign because you hated it when people tried to interrupt your music. And end up asking something so stupid, like your name.

“I never asked, but what is your name?”

Loud and clear, not wanting any slip-ups. The thread of tension that was initially pulled taut between the two of you seemed to have loosened on your side.

Like mentioned, you’ve actually browsed through all types of replies he could give.

He could have probed about the reason behind you wanting to know, or he could play games with you and not tell you, keeping it as a mystery unsolved so that you wouldn’t stop talking to him about it.

But no, his answer was the most difficult for the continuation of a conversation.

He is deeply distracted by the greenery outside, peeling his line of sight off the window pane and finally directing it to you.

He thinks—for whatever reason in this world you can about your own name—before gently replying.

“Namjoon.”

A blatant response which leaves you with not much options left to venture.

However, it doesn’t stop you from appreciating each syllable of his name. Nam and Joon just goes so well with each other just like how the colour of his cap matches his pants and you are naturally repeating after him, his name leaving your lips in such a blissful way. You are officially going bonkers for this man.

He doesn’t pay any more attention to you, turning to view the scenery that runs past the moving vehicle. The passing trees and blue sky are more interesting to look at than talking to you very apparently.

“That’s a nice name.” You pointed out and he flashes you a faint smile before going back to the window.

You note that he doesn’t ask for yours and an unexpected feeling of hurt thuds at your chest.

You take it as a telltale sign that Namjoon, is not interested in you like the way you are in him. All practice of the conversation gets deleted and thrown into the trash bin like a child’s silly doodling, and you sink back into your seat, trying to not feel all stupid and crestfallen.

Nothing else is said between the both of you until the next rest stop.

This time, you buy a packet of bread and a hotdog bun because it’s lunch.

He is no longer standing at some secluded corner of this new gas station, just shifting on both feet just outside the doors of this e-mart.

From inside, you spot Namjoon at the same place from before. You tear the package of the ready-made bun and observe him for a moment.

Namjoon had been repetitively trying to call someone. Each time the line reaches nowhere, his jaw clenches even harder and he tongues at his cheeks in a disputable infuriation.

Though, that is all you can see. You have yet to fully understand his actual situation.

The bells jingle as you push through the glass doors to exit.

Again, he removes the phone from his ear and angrily taps on the screen as if that would help his call get through.

“Here,” You offer him the bread. Butter flavoured, nothing too much to be disliked by anyone. You haven’t seen Namjoon eat anything from the start of the journey up till now and you are genuinely concerned about his hunger.

“Oh, no thanks. I’m not hungry.” You know that phrase too well. A statement someone would say even when they in fact are hungry, but the loss of appetite is too overwhelming for the empty stomach. The loss of appetite can be caused by several factors—like one being too bothered about something on their mind.

You retract the bread in hand from him, and fall silent.

“Do you want to use mine?”

You considered for a long moment before raising the suggestion.

The rest stop in the middle of nowhere would destroy reception for some phones, but yours could call from almost anywhere. Well, as the line contract promised.

Namjoon looks up and at last, a glint of care swirling in his orbs.

You wonder who he is trying to dial.

“Really?” It’s like he cannot believe the small offer you made, different from the other times you buy him food. You guess Namjoon really did not have a thing for food at gas stations.

“Yeah,” You click your phone to the dialling page.

“Mine should be able to get through.”

He swipes the device off your hand faster than light, not caring about the desperation he is displaying.

“Thanks.” He mumbles as he hastily keys in whoever’s number that was. It is soft, but it could still be heard.

The call seems to really manage to get through and he mouths an ‘excuse me’ before striding off to somewhere more private for the conversation to happen.

Munching away at your hotdog bun, you watch him grow frustrated as the call goes on, Namjoon crossly gesturing with his hands to try to get his point across and the locking of his jaw every time he spat out a word. Then, his eyebrows are knitted in fury, like he had just met with news of anguish. He stomps around, sometimes even yelling into your phone and at some point in time, you were afraid that he would smash your phone into pieces. The vein at his neck visibly pops and you could tell how many emotions he was trying so hard to contain. Emotions like anger, disappointment, confusion—all at once, bombarding poor Namjoon.

The person on the other end likely ended the call, for Namjoon stares ahead at a red stationary motorcycle with emptiness crowding his eyes. His lips were no longer aggressively moving to negotiate whatever that was, his hand turned motionless as well—and the phone lowers, just like the previous times. This time though, with a knowing answer and clarity clouding his glistening eyes.

His hands were tightly balled into fists and your phone almost gets crushed. Even from afar, you can see the rapid rise and falls of his chest and the grief stinging his eyes. You skipped through the hesitation and made your way over to the bull.

“Hey are you alright—”

“Thanks for the call.”

He is quick to shut you off, slamming the device onto your palm and strolls away to probably hide his moment of sorrow.

Namjoon looked more upset than anything you’d imagine. And it broke your heart to see him this unhappy.

“Namjoon!” You yelled after him.

Tracing his footsteps, his back faces you.

You can’t explain the need surging throughout you to just step forward and smooth your hand over the broad expanse of his back, the itch to calm him down and ask what was wrong. But you weren’t really in a position to do so.

The clock ticks a whole silent round before he slowly turns around with a long exhale.

The sight of his tear-stained cheeks and red eyes wrenches hard at your heart.

Strangers had boundaries, and you yearned to cross them with Namjoon.

“Do you…want a hug?” There was much nothing left on your plate that you could offer.

Awkwardly natural, the distance between your two bodies closes.

Everything afterwards happened in a blink; his head sinking heavily onto the blade of your shoulder, his arms wrapped around your body and your face smashing into his well-built chest.

Heaven, that’s the best description you can make of burying yourself into Namjoon arms.

You were supposed to hug him, and not the other way around.

He takes a deep breath, tightening his hold on you and his nose digging into your hair, making you fight back a shiver as you carefully rest your hands on his lower back. The smell of his lotion grows even stronger when you are this close to him, and you wished you could stay like this with him forever.

His breathing was still hard and you could feel his heart frantically hammering onto yours, as if having suffered a major attack.

The hug was quiet but comfortable. Everything with Namjoon felt comfortable if you even make sense.

“I needed this.” He mumbles into your skin, pulling away seconds after, causing you to cling onto every last bit of him.

The two of you returned to the bus straight away, with no words exchanged.

However, you can feel Namjoon beginning to open up to you.

Still, you’d like to take your time to understand him.

Feelings settled and heart at ease, the subject of the call and his breakdown was never broached again.

He was, as usual, peering at the outer layer of the woods along the road. Namjoon observes them with a concentration not to be disregarded.

It almost feels like he was scripting every line and carve on their barks, counting the number of leaves on each branch and watching how mighty they stood tall—which was technically impossible, but with Namjoon, one would never know.

“Ah, by the way,” You try to casually start a conversation, but at the same time you feel bad for interrupting his tree-watching session. “Where are you headed to?”

“Uh,” He hesitates, the area between his eyes scrunching up. “I… actually have no idea.”

He knew where he was going. But it looks like plans got ruined midway.

Was it because of the phone call? You promised yourself not to poke that matter. Not now.

“Huh. Same here. Probably the last stop or something.” You shrugged, nonchalant.

This huge bus was driving from the city to various locations—from small towns to farms and other districts basically.

You didn’t have a place in mind; you just needed to get out of that hellhole.

He widens his eyes at you because it is not all the time you randomly find someone as lost as you are.

Namjoon really has nowhere to go now. The most he could do would be to buy another trip back into the city—but that was the option he’d leave for last. Other than the mortifying decision to backpedal into your old routes, he could only face frontwards and hope for the best. It would be so easy to return to his hometown—which was along the way—where his parents would more than gladly welcome him with open arms, but the last thing he wanted was to become a burden to his family.

“You really don’t know where exactly you are going to?”

Taking in his words, you had to double confirm. Namjoon looked like someone who clearly knew all the directions in his life, knew for sure what to do and what not to do. Looks can be deceiving, after all.

“I wish I did.” His body turns to face you now, away from the window and the sudden attention is making you panic a little.

“Honestly, there aren’t many places I could go to either, so.” He points out, acting more like he was engaged in a conversation with himself rather than you.

At that, you could only smile in relation. Strangely, the both of you were very similar in thoughts but worlds apart in expression.

Namjoon enclosed his heart and mind, choosing the appropriate timing to open them and to specifically who. Meanwhile, you consistently let yourself out there even though you try not to, it just happens without intention. But the outgoing exterior eventually fades as you start becoming comfortable with keeping low and quiet as well. Many people would be shocked upon witnessing a whole 360 change in your demeanour, just as they would with Namjoon turning talkative.

“I wish I did too.” A light chuckle spills past your lips and as well as you are attempting to hide the misery suffocating your lungs, you don’t think you’re doing a great job at it.

Namjoon inspects your expression for a fraction, not adding on to the conversation anymore, before he throws his attention back at the greens.

Somehow, there formed an unspoken agreement between the two of you that the last stop would be your destinations.

As the trip went by, the number of passengers onboard gradually decreases, each and every one of them assured of where to alight and where they must reach. You were slightly envious of, especially the complete families who got down the bus with joy spread across their faces. They must have a home that is like a safe haven to them, one where the members could retreat to after a long day in comfort and bliss.

One you could never afford to have, despite how fortunate you were.

There was never an end to the screams and fights, the smashing of objects and the destroying of furniture like they costed nothing. The amount of terrible sleep you get every passing day, progressively shredding your sleep schedule to uneven strips.

It wasn’t until the start of spring when you arrived at a decision to leave home. School was still ongoing, but a break was urgent. Anymore of the nonsense you receive at both your workplace and home, you’re afraid you might just turn haywire and end up being sent to the mental hospital. Throw your mentally and emotionally unstable ass into the asylum—your parents had every aspect to perfectly do so.

“But miss, you can’t just leave like that.” Jungkook, one of your dad’s most trusted security personnel and chauffeur begs you to stay put in your sickening stuffy room with his undying persistence.

“Yes I can. Watch me.” He refused to open the gate no matter how hard you try to plea him and this was your final resort. Flinging your bag over the barrier, it lands on the other side of freedom with a heavy thud and that’s when Jungkook relents.

“Oh my god, Y/N!” You know he’s pissed when he says your name.

Jungkook was slightly older than you, but the both of you grew up together. The family feuds put him in an uncomfortable situation at times, but he wasn’t to step into matters as such.

Although maintained at a professional distance, it doesn’t stop him from bringing your favourite cake into the bedroom you would always be found hiding under the sheets from all that fighting. After the storm subsides, Jungkook always appeared with a cake and drink in hand to appease your frightened form, the desserts acting as a type of consolation he couldn’t provide. He was a sweet guy, but you never saw him that way. Jungkook was like an older brother to you. And he wasn’t that good at covering up his silly crush on you.

“Fine!” He unlocks the gate in the most passive-aggressive way ever and you only giggle.

You have him wrapped around your finger and it was no doubt an advantage to you could use all the time.

“Stay safe, regardless.”

You hold both his hands in the most dramatic way ever, swaying up to him like a Disney princess.

When you lean in close to his face, Jungkook is rendered speechless, a flushed mess.

“I will and thank you.” You hum sweetly and gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

“Byeeeeee!” You sing and happily leave the stifling confines of the house, as well as an embarrassed Jungkook standing rooted to the ground.

Your eyes never leave Namjoon on the third rest stop.

The both of you sat in the convenience store, devouring bowls of instant ramen.

You wonder how one phone call can lead to all of this.

Everything Namjoon did was hurtingly adorable to you. Your heart twisted in a wickedly joyful manner when he furrowed his brows. You swear your eyes were pooling with endearment when his cheeks were stuffed full of noodles. The type of attraction you were having for Namjoon was fascinating, like never before. A kind of flower you’ve never had blooming wildly in your chest for a long time. You wonder how he feels about you. Whether he sees you in the same light or not.

The bowls sitting in front of the two of you are now empty, stomachs filled with content.

You stared at Namjoon and Namjoon stared back at you, your eyes never averting because you feel like you could drown in his pretty brown orbs forever. Namjoon breaks the contact and raises a question before you could.

“Is your shampoo jasmine?” He flickered his gaze to your hair, arms coming up to rest on the small table barely enough for two. His face suddenly grows bigger, featuring becoming clearer as the gap in between is shortened.

“Yeah,” You breathed out when he moving towards you. He was leaning so close to your face, you feel yourself unknowingly reversing a little.

Then, everything vanishes and he relaxes back on the chair again.

“And h-how did you know?”

“Someone I used to know.” His voice comes out quiet.

The both of you grabbed lollipops before returning to the coach.

This was the final stretch before the journey ends, the longest one amongst the rest and the fatigue is starting to consume you whole, eyelids feeling heavy.

You don’t know how or when, but a shoulder is pressed to your cheek as hand lightly shakes you.

“We’re here,” He says, stirring you awake.

The driver is long gone, in the restroom or something.

You jump off the coach, butt and neck feeling sore.

The two of you stood in front of a shredded motel.

“Looks like we’ll have to make do.”

The room was smaller than it could have already been, the ceiling paint flaking like horrid dry skin and the cream wallpapers looked like they were going to crumble into dust by a touch of the finger. The first blow is delivered to the layer of glass, cracks beginning to form in the center. Something smells. There’s a distinct stench lingering in the atmosphere of this room. Your eyes dart over to the bathroom. A dirty sock naps comfortably on the rusty towel rack—no, hibernates—because the navy piece of laundry seems to be having the time of its life stinking up possibly the entire motel with its century-old odour.

You switched your life goal to become as unbothered as that abandoned sock.

A second hit to the fragile material, completely falling apart but still you try your best to hold it together for the sake of Namjoon’s optimism.

“Sure we do.” You mumble, but it is amplified in the tiny space.

The volume of your voice was one thing, but Namjoon feels more gigantic than ever, his large frame towering over yours and unknowingly you shrink. He looked so much bigger than you noticed from before and it is evident that you have definitely been noticing him for quite a bit. It must be the size of the room, and not the rapid blossoming of your attraction for him.

The only bed sandwiched between both your standing forms was yet, another issue to be solved. There wasn’t even a couch to be spared, you had to place your bags on the crusty floor. You can’t even hide the grimace crumpling your features when you spot a black dot faded under the white sheets, crawling its way to the pillow. That sight itself, shattered the already broken glass pane of tolerance into fragments.

“Trust me when I say this isn’t the worst I’ve seen.”

Namjoon chirps in, trying to lift the frown off your disgusted face. “Honestly, for a place beside a gas station, this is-”

“Not okay at all.”

You arrived at a decision. And that is to get the hell out of this trash can before Namjoon’s witty tongue and strong cologne persuades you otherwise.

An idea flashes in your mind.

No one would have guessed that you were the daughter of a pair of millionaire parents.

Dressed humbly in a hoodie and leggings, you passed off as any other normal person. You did not fancy the wealthy status plastered onto you since birth. Instead, you actually wished for a simple, blissful life. It was true that money could solve most problems, but you were seeking for another kind of happiness. A happiness so genuine and pure. The grass is always greener on the other side. You weren’t planning to let Namjoon know about your family background at all, but the circumstances the both of you were caught in left you with no other choice.

As soon as you laid your eyes on the bed bug having the time of its life under the sheets, you boldly grabbed Namjoon’s hand and flew out of the musty motel.

The sun was already diving into the horizon, daylight beginning to feel insufficient.

The haggard old man manning the petrol kiosk watches the two of you exit the rundown building and if your vision did not fail you—he sniggers to himself.

Namjoon seems to have noticed this as well, head still turned to face the disheveled man after the two of you made your way to the grass patch by the main road. You stare at Namjoon looking at the man. He was unpacking some boxes of food, and you wonder what is so intriguing about that that Namjoon can’t peel his eyes off of him.

“It’s not easy,” He finally faces front, upon reaching the road. You tuck your fists into the warm pockets of your hoodie.

“What is?”

“Working at a gas station.” Namjoon mumbles lowly, fallen deep in thought.

You contemplate for a while before choosing to not say anything to that. You don’t know how to reply to that anyway.

The air outside was not the freshest, but it was heaven to your lungs compared to the interior.

Your first instinct was to call Jungkook.

This subconscious behaviour of yours has yet to be eradicated, and you figured it must have to do with the fact that Jungkook was the man who could do anything and everything in your eyes. Plus, he was someone you turned to habitually whenever you were met with a crisis. Major or minor.

“Y/N! You better get your ass home by midnight or else your father will behead me!”

“Woah, chill Jungkook. Can you help me see if there are any decent places nearby to stay at?”

Jungkook could easily track you down, a feature your parents granted him to better watch over you.

“What in the world are you doing there?!”

“Sorry. But please help me?” That is all you can provide. Namjoon raises a brow at your conversation over the phone. Darkness was racing to swallow the sky whole and there was not much time left for you to find shelter. You mentally prepared yourself for a sleepless night ahead.

“You’re kidding. There is literally nothing but dirt on that piece of wasteland. What did you expect? One of your father’s lavish villas to pop out magically in front of your eyes?” Jungkook sounds extremely frustrated with the situation you landed yourself in. What he doesn’t and wouldn’t need to know, is that you have someone by your side.

“However…”

All hope is not lost.

“Tell me more about this fantastic idea of yours.” Namjoon’s incessant questioning sparks an urge in you to just go up to him and shut him up with a kiss. Out of annoyance, of course. Containing the thought, you continue denying him of an answer.

“Just wait and see,”

You can’t believe it slipped your mind that the last stop was on the outlines of this town, which meant that the sea was close.

The beach that barely had any visitors was probably just a few miles away from this polluted gas station. The only staff who worked there was the old man from before reaching seventy, unkempt appearance for wandering spirits in this isolated town to see.

The place was derelict and untidy. Litter scattered across the road and the walls reeked of rotten flesh.

Finally, the sea approaches you and Namjoon. Compared to the gas station, the area wrapping the beach was spotless and your mouth falls open slightly. Walking towards the edge of the small cliff, down below laid the fine sand that reflected the dusty evening glow who’s rays of pink and purple are slowly overshadowing the initial golden.

It was then you realised the sun had never meant to eagerly head to bed, it was instead fighting against time, refusing to fade into the sea line this early.

Namjoon must be as struck as you are by the sight, for he doesn’t say a word, only calmly tracing your steps.

The both of you sat on the short grass, quietly admiring the sunset-tainted coast and watching the waves accumulate strength each time it leaves and arrives.

Legs dangling in the air and bags thrown on the ground, you wonder when a time like this would ever happen again. The orange sky gently toasting your eyes and the prickly sensation on the hamstrings. A guy who resembled your ex-boyfriend sitting by your side. A possible tent in your backpack.

A smile stubbornly grows on your face and you let out a soft giggle at the strange events of today, shaking your head at the foolishness.

“What’re you gleaming about?”

The tranquility is not broken by his voice, only further accentuating it.

“Huh? Oh. Nothing much really, haha…just everything maybe,”

You turn your head to look for his reaction at your contradiction and his eyes capture yours in bewilderment.

“I see. Don’t worry, I understand.” He smiles and the world vanishes, your heartbeat—the only thing you can feel.

“Sometimes the only thing you can do is laugh. When everything’s too painful, when everything’s too joyous, when everything’s going downhill or when everything’s so…serene.”

His fingers clutches onto a random stone and he begins meddling with it.

“Maybe all at once.” You lean back a little, easing into the conversation.

Namjoon chuckles.

“Sometimes though, you gotta vent it out!”

He swings his arm back and throws it forward, catapulting the innocent stone into somewhere in the salty water. It disappears from sight, so you would never know.

When the second-hand hit a quarter to eight, the moon’s motherly appearance persuaded the mischievous yolk to fully drop into the ocean. Nightfall pays a visit.

The possible tent in your backpack.

The only times you have ever slept outside of the neatly painted walls of your enormous room (excluding the walk-in wardrobe), would be sleeping over in the marvellous pink doll house bedroom belonging to your best friend. That counts…right?

There were a few camps here and there in your entire education journey. The thrill of water rafting with the bumpy rocks, the struggles of kayaking and capsizing in the dirty river, the tall grass that crept up your knees and the mud your track shoes sank into. You wish you knew how all of those felt, because every time your class was required to have the time of their lives in a camp site, your teacher would never pass you a consent form for that. Dejected, you already knew the reason behind the disallowing of your participation. It was too harsh for your body and health, they’d always repeat to you and you would stomp to your bedroom and make a mess out of your sheets with piping hot tears.

You hate living a sheltered life. You detested it, even though some may cry for days to have a pampered life like yours. Call it ungrateful, but you would rather live a simple life with simple happiness. Because money may be the manifestation of bliss, but it also creates problems that it itself cannot be able to solve.

However, money helped Jungkook to create this circular object to pop into a tent once you push the button located inside the mechanism.

“Why and how do you have this?” Namjoon sends you a questionable look.

“Don’t ask. I…uh, like to come prepared.”

You lied. Jungkook sneaked this compacted tent into your bag without you even knowing.

But he informed you about it over the phone and it came in handy at the very least.

“Well then, go ahead and press the activation button.”

“Erm…” You hesitated. What if this was some kind of abduction assistance for Jungkook to bring you back home to your fuming parents?

“I’m having second thoughts about this—Wait no!”

Namjoon yanks it out of your hands and slams the button.

The sphere starts beeping, a red light flashing on the top.

Paranoid, you subconsciously grab onto Namjoon’s hand like you always did to Jungkook when your father raised his voice.

A loud noise erupts from the transformation, and you screw your eyes closed in fear.

The round device jumps and explodes harmlessly, the surfaces opens and nylon sheets are spiralled out into the shape of a tent.

“Y/N,” Namjoon squeezes your hand.

“I think it’s done.”

The both of you view the tent, then the interlocked fingers.

Redness graze your cheeks and Namjoon clears his throat.

You quickly let go and step to inspect the inflated tent.

You silently thanked Jungkook as your body plopped onto the clothed base. Lying on the thin material with the cold ground just beneath it, you are able to feel the earthiness seeping through your skin and the softness of the soil as a bedding. The feeling was no match to the fluffiness of your blankets and bouncy mattress.

Namjoon had gone out to grab booze and a couple of ready-made food from the store earlier and you happily agreed. You haven’t got much of a choice actually, but you were grateful for an opportunity like this with him.

A buzz coming from behind interrupts your stargazing session, you pull your sight away from the deep black sky to realise that it was your phone.

Curiosity overruling your judgement, you reached for the phone.

It was a text from an unknown contact.

Your eyes doubled in size at the series of notifications.

Visiting the petrol station again caused a bitterness to rise up his throat.

He wonders if he will end up like the old man behind the counter in the future.

Namjoon was an aspiring producer and lyricist.

He hasn’t shot to fame with his completed works yet, but he has a strong belief that he eventually will, one day. He struggles with the low income the job as a gas pump attendant, taking care of his ill-stricken mother who had been diagnosed with lung cancer as of last year and all hope seemed to be lost.

The news came off as no surprise to him because his mother turned into a heavy smoker after his father abandoned the pair of mother and son for some other woman. The nicotine helped her relieve her stress and depression that consumed her heart, so Namjoon as a young boy couldn’t really say anything to stop his broken mother.

His only parent had insufficient funds to further continue his education after high school so he was left with no options but to work many part-time jobs to support himself.

As time flew by, Namjoon grew into a man that had no direction in life.

He worked in a polluted environment, paid for his mother’s chemotherapy, ate, slept and wished he’d never wake up to see the light of day again.

His apartment was filthy and small, but he was barely keeping up with the rent payments on time. Medical bills placed a huge burden onto his shoulders but he could not give up on his only family who always looked at him with sympathy and hatred.

Hatred because she had told him that life would be much better without her, and Namjoon was stubborn in not willing to let her life end even if it was for good.

His girlfriend did not improve the situation of his life.

If anything, she only worsened it.

She blamed him for being incompetent and unable to bring her happiness as a boyfriend.

She constantly gave degrading remarks and once mentioned that she felt humiliated by him. If anything, she made him feel shittier about his life than he already was.

She was toxic and he knew it but he was still unable to cut ties with someone who loved him back and was willing to stay with him for so long.

He was a man of strong will and he believes that once he succeeds in his ambition, all the problems he was facing at that moment would disappear.

His girlfriend would stop looking at him like he was a loser and his mother would recover faster in a cleaner and better environment.

This week was a turning point in his life.

His mother overdosed and Sunbin cheated on him a few days after.

To think that his own mother gave up on herself and him when he persevered was heart-breaking. Losing his only kin drove him to the point of insanity.

Beyond devastated, he was a step away from falling off the roof of his apartment.

But something about the bright full moon watching over him that night tweaked his decision.

The wind caressed his cheeks as a form of consolation and the stars sang in the gloomy moonlight for him.

Namjoon thinks, that maybe the occurrence of these events was a sign.

Maybe the heavens were trying to tell him something.

He climbed up the wall of his dead end and saw something greater.

His strength was back when he stepped down from the platform.

That is why the morning after he was at the bus station, waiting for the vehicle that will carry him around to clear his thoughts.

Being on a long bus ride relaxed him and for some reason, made his heart feel at ease.

Perhaps it was the trees passing by or the sun that stayed still in position when he was moving, but it filled him with happiness to distance away from the cruel reality for a while in the comfortable seats of a bus. Bus rides were so peaceful and he enjoyed them to the fullest every time without fail.

As he tossed the lollipop stick into the trash bin, his eyes skim across the people at the station, it hooked onto a book he had been wanting to read for a long time.

Jung’s Map Of The Soul: An Introduction was a book that summarises Jung’s vision of psychological and spiritual life.

He hadn’t got the time or money to think about a book, but now that he had seen the actual copy, he was intrigued.

His gaze travel up to the owner of the book, then to the book, then to your face again.

He wasn’t gawking creepily or anything, but your features were rather beautiful. Not that he went up straight to your face and told you that. But he stared for a while, switching between the book and you before minding his own business again.

Looking at you reminded him of his past and only girlfriend. A book in hand, warming her hands over a cup of coffee as he strikes a conversation with her over the book. Later on he found out that she was not into reading at all, and the precious book was a prop in her scheme to get Namjoon to notice her. He didn’t express the wryness he felt tugging at his insides, but he was a little shocked by her deceiving appearance. He wonders just how many more things she was hiding about herself. The only exception with you is that he did not walk towards you.

His girlfriend had just left him.

Sunbin called and he tried his hardest to not care.

It was impossible. He had to hear her out, know what exactly he did wrong, where it all started.

When you lent him your cellphone he keyed in her number like it was the only thing he memorised by heart and frustratedly waited for her answer.

Sunbin was the type to lie in order to achieve whatever result she wanted, but when Namjoon demanded the truth or she was exposed, she would tell him things from the bottom of her heart.

It was after her true explanation behind her abandonment of the relationship that Namjoon lowers the phone in hand and ends the call with a cold farewell.

It wasn’t anything that had to do with her character. It was about the money and status.

That was the time she informed him about how ashamed she was when she introduced Namjoon to her parents or told her friends about her boyfriend.

Namjoon realised that he had nothing to say about that, only silently agreeing and nodding in understanding.

But he wished that his own girlfriend would have a little more faith and pride in his passion and dreams. Not to the point where she’d went out and slept with another man.

His heart broke even more when she confessed that she brought the man home to meet her parents instead of him because he was more capable, as she stated.

Namjoon loved her like she was his everything and yet, she treated him like nothing.

Sunbin made him question his worth and drive all the time. He should be grateful that the poison in his life had been removed.

The third time you try to talk to him, he gave in to your advances.

Namjoon was just going to let whatever happen happen, not purposely going out of way to shut you out or anything.

He was single and available.

He could do anything he wanted now like a man with freedom now.

He’s got nothing to lose.

Namjoon returns with some greasy mac ’n cheese and some bottles of beer.

He finds you inside, full attention on the book that you did not even realise he entered.

The temperature was dropping and the inside of the tent felt as cold as outside.

“Don’t you find it a little cold?”

He ducks and steps inside with bags of food and drinks.

You put your book down.

“Do you want me to set up a fire or something?”

He pauses, fighting back a smile.

Before challenging you.

“Do you even know how to?”

He snickers and takes out the container, allowing the smell of cheese to roam the confined space.

“Right…you have a point.” You pout, the imaginary little campfire bursting like a bubble popped in your head.

Something even better comes to mind.

“Maybe we can… cuddle or something.”

Namjoon freezes, unable to make proper eye contact with you.

“It’s a friendly suggestion.”

You say that, but your eyes glimmer with hope and admiration for him.

After a long awkward moment, Namjoon seems to have set his mind onto something when he finishes his meal.

“We’ll see about that. Here,” He hands you one of the bottles of booze and you gladly accepted it.

The two of you sit at the exact spot from before, this time with the company of the moon and stars.

Namjoon looks at them like he did with the trees and you concluded that this man must carry a deep love for the nature.

“I have a question,” You take a swig of the beer to give yourself alcohol courage.

Should you ask it now? Or are you taking things too fast, considering that you’ve only met this man today and letting him know that you would give him the world?

“Moon or stars?”

You ask quietly, careful to not ruin the placidity of the hushed waves and bristling trees.

“The moon.”

“Why?” You chuckle at how his reply was almost instantaneous.

“The moon, you see. Stars, there are plenty of them. But the moon is the one and only. It may sound quite stupid to you, but I like special things. Especially when people don’t pay much mind to them…little things. Like the moon.”

You watch and listen to him speak attentively.

The moon isn’t exactly little, but you hold back your interruption to let him finish.

“Everybody is so caught up with their business—be it work or play—that they don’t care about the little things that much anymore. One day, if the moon turns slightly yellow, probably five in a hundred people would only notice. The rest don’t take the time to look at the surroundings, the peaceful nature that is with them in life. Which is quite sad actually. Why is stargazing so popular but moongazing isn’t? They come in a package, it’s unfair to exclude her from the word.”

At that, you burst out into laughter.

“That makes sense,” You laugh again. “Stars appear and disappear all the time, that is why. The moon…well, the moon is sort of always just there. People tend to take these things for granted you see.”

Namjoon turns to face you, allured by your explanation.

“Why do you think it’s whale watching and not fish watching?”

You tilt your head at him, providing an analogy.

“Because we don’t see whales all the time…” He mutters, staring into the distance as if he had just got a math equation figured out.

“Precisely. It’s a strange world.”

You were different.

It was silly of Namjoon to automatically assume that you were the same as his ex-girlfriend, because the both of you were total opposites.

She would have just actively dismissed him before he even started on his thoughts on the topic—no, she wouldn’t even ask a question like that.

Namjoon was sure that she did not even know about his love for the moon.

And here he was, with a stranger he met on the bus, pouring out his opinions and questions about stars and moons. He felt like he was on cloud nine to be able to talk to someone so comfortably about something so random. Something that not many would even give two hoots about.

Your fingers drum on the surface of the ground, your hands propping your body to sit upright on the edge of the cliff.

“Then,” You start again.

“Desert or sea.” You point out to the ocean, which was barely even visible under the shade of night.

“Can I choose beach?” Namjoon chortles, placing his hands behind as well to lean back, brushing over yours accidentally.

His fingers graze and land over your smaller ones, his big hand trapping yours in an almost uncertain way.

He didn’t move, you didn’t move. He just let his hand rest near yours, slightly touching but never mentioned.

You shake your head in response, grinning.

Namjoon was just about to answer with the latter but you beat him to it.

“I’d say desert. When you have everything… it could just drown you.”

You say this and bite on your lip, like having everything actually hurt you before.

Namjoon disagrees, a man who tasted the feeling of losing everything.

“Having nothing is just as equal.” He rebuts, washing the sadness stinging in his veins with a full mouth of beer.

Like a man suffering a drought.

A silence of mutual understanding blankets the conversation, staring at the glittery sky and listening to the rushed waves of the sea, and drinking booze.

Unconsciously, you slip nearer to him.

Blame the alcohol, because the feeling of his thigh touching yours was electrifying.

Somewhere into the slow night, you and Namjoon talked about all sorts of stuff without returning to the tent. The night breeze was cooling to the skin and you enjoyed it very much. Still, your thighs were still touching but no one got onto each other’s lap or avoided the skin contact. You placed the last bottle down carelessly, the clanking of it against the hard rock warning you of the close breakage—but honestly you couldn’t care less.

Namjoon was on his third bottle of Soju and you were on the second, but the answer was clear as to who was the lightweight.

“I think lobsters are immortals,” You made a brave statement, puffing out your chest.

“I think the fuck not, Y/N.”

You never liked your name being called by someone this much.

The way it perfectly flows out of his mouth, his thick voice and blank expression. Heat began creeping up to your cheeks—you’re unsure if it’s from the anger of retorting or your name on his lips.

You’re a little tipsy to be thinking coherent thoughts, but screw sobriety.

“Technically, there is evidence—”

“Oh, why don’t you just shut up and own some crabby petties?” You sassed back at him, ignoring his substantial proof of lobsters dying of age.

“And, leave. My. Lobsters. Alone.”

You draw your face closer to his as you tell him that, the realisation of the proximity between both your lips not dawning right on you yet.

You were in the middle of a discussion on crustaceans with him, and suddenly your face was pulled so close to his own.

Namjoon looks you in the eyes, something fiery can be sensed through his brown orbs and you can feel his breath on your cupid’s bow.

His gaze kept flickering between your lips and your eyes, and you dark your tongue out to lick at them, feeling slightly self-conscious.

Then, he makes home at your eyes.

“Did you just make a pun,”

His voice falls an octave, a hint of raspiness hidden behind his throat.

Both your bodies were leaning so close to each other now, arms behind each other’s backs to keep near.

“Yeah I did. So what.” You breathed out shyly yet your words bagged a heavy tut. You were surprised that you even managed to form a response being this close to Namjoon.

You swear your nose was bumping onto the tip of his now, the one you had so badly dreamt of kissing from the gas station earlier on.

You fired the last question.

“Kiss or be kissed,”

And your heart lurches when he steals the period of the sentence away, by dipping his head to snatch your breath away.

He was nothing like the kisser you imagined with those plump lips; rough, urgent and sensual all at the same time. Namjoon slants his lips with yours fervently, hand coming up to hold your neck firmly as he kisses you.

Fluttering your lids shut, your place your hands on his firm chest before smoothing them up to wrap around his neck. The action made him growl lowly before lunging onto your body like a beast starved.

A light whimper leaves your throat as he moves his lips rhythmically against yours, teeth clashing and breaths exchanged. Your moans in his mouth seem to encourage him further, but still his tongue makes no appearance.

He knew how to take things fast and slow at the same time, and you loved every moment of it.

Namjoon gains full control over you by tilting your head the angle he wants to devour you and he melds his lips with yours like you were going to disappear by the second.

He had pushed you onto your back onto the rock platform already, whole body caging yours when he finally breaks away.

You were a panting mess from his rushed kissing, lips swollen from how hard he had bit onto it and hair slightly tousled from his fingers running through it.

“Kiss. I want to kiss you all night.”

Inside you beamed like the brightest star alive and this time, it was you who captures his lips again.

Namjoon tasted like a mixture of bitter and sweet, he was soft in his actions but his mouth was relentless.

It took you a lot of willpower—with his face stuck to yours and hands caressing your jaw— but you succeeded in pushing him away to get inside.

“Namjoon,” You barely pronounce his name right, because he takes your gesture as a sign to continue his ministrations on your jaw.

“Do you wanna go into the tent instead?”

He plants a final kiss onto your lips before standing up and offering you a hand.

The buzz invites itself onto your phone once again and you internally groaned, wishing he’d heard nothing.

“I think that was your phone,” He alerts you, and you pretend to not care.

“It’s nothing important.” You say as you lean in and press your lips against his cheeks.

He shoves you away gently.

“Wait, what if it’s for me?”

“Nam—“

In no time, he let go of your hand and went on his knees to search for the resounding device.

The same cold Unknown flashed on the screen and you tongued at your cheek.

Namjoon stares at the phone for a while, biting the inside of his cheek in contemplation.

“I…I have to take this,” He stammers and it was all you needed.

You reach for his hand and held it calmly.

“Don’t,” You have no idea what you trying to tell him but you knew that he should never pick up.

“You looked so pained whenever you’re on that call…”

His hair reflected a streak of gold under the mini lamp and his features were so dangerously beautiful. He was still, in one way or another, a stranger to you but you were eager to learn about his world and dive into the deepness of his soul.

You could feel it—from the bus station, to the gas pumps and now by the beach with him—that he was so lost and broken, just the way you were.

You wanted to be the light to guide him out of this darkness but he always deemed it impossible by returning to the old ways.

“Then why are you here?” You take a step, decreasing the space between.

“Isn’t the purpose of this whole short escapade to renew and start afresh?”

You released a sigh, not navigating where exactly this was headed towards.

“It’s your life… It’s yours to decide.”

He doesn’t look at you, only thinking about it hard.

That is before he returns the phone to you and mumbles that he’ll head to bed first.

You rarely stopped yourself from asking questions when curiosity consumed you. But when it came to Namjoon however… you stay silent.

You did not want to intrude more than you should, but you also knew that Namjoon, the guy you’ve been crushing on since the start of the bus ride, would never open his mouth unless you asked him to.

Seeing Namjoon being so despondent reminded you of your situation with your family.

Thoughts about your parents, Jungkook, Namjoon…Namjoon.

The way he kissed you a few minutes ago soared you to heaven temporarily.

Was he ever this attracted to you as you were all along?

The more you think, the more things seemed bizarre and did not make any sense at all.

You wonder what sparked the sudden urge to pounce onto you like he did last night when he wouldn’t even spare you a proper glance on the bus.

You did not want this day to end on bad note.

If this was the first and last time with him, you wanted to make it worth while.

“So…you don’t mind cuddling, do you?”

The body beside you stirs awake.

Seems like you were not alone in failing to catch some sleep.

Namjoon doesn’t reply to that, only proceeding to finally wrap his arms firmly around you. You resist the squeak of excitement popping out of your chest as you feel his muscular chest press against your back. He hums in response, the low vibrations travelling down your spine and you fight back a shiver. Namjoon seemed too tired to say anything else.

You keep still, not wanting any small movement to disrupt his rest.

He falls asleep in two seconds while you carry on with your attempts.

You couldn’t sleep despite the fatigue rinsing you and draining your head of any sensibility.

Clamping your lids shut, you try to focus on the rhythm of your breathing instead to ease yourself into a slumber as well. This time, it twitches against your ass and you can no longer close one eye to the situation at hand.

Bucking your hips back into his, he involuntarily lets out a deep groan at the feeling. Whether he was still in his sleep or not, the noises Namjoon made sent your mind spiralling into a pool of lust.

His dick grows even harder, pushing against the material of your shorts.

“Namjoon,” You try to flip over to face him, but failing to do so as he steadies you in place.

“Namjoon,” You whine in protest, the feeling overwhelming and you have to do something about it.

The second call of his name stirs him slightly awake, hand accidentally sliding down the curve of your thigh and a shudder rumbles throughout your body as he touches the sensitive skin. He seems to get the reaction, doing it again, and this time skimming over the inside of your thigh. He’s doing this on purpose, to tease you to the end of your wits and you are not going to lie there and take it.

You swear you were about to throw yourself over and pin his cheeky hands down, but he beats you to it by a step. His lips ghosts over the shell of your ear, grip tightening on your thigh and you let loose completely.

“What is it that you want so badly,” His mouth travels to the exposed skin of your neck, tongue darting out to give you small licks. “That you keep waking me up?”

“W-Why do you have a boner?”

“It happens when I’m tired.”

“Oh,” You blinked, remembering the feel of it against your ass.

Long, thick and heavy. Throbbing, even. You couldn’t register the fact that you were salivating as he crashes his lips onto yours once more, savouring all of you.

“I want you to fuck me so good, Namjoon.”

He shoots his head up from the curve of your neck, expression laced with confused and shock.

“No pressure.” You blurt out to save yourself when he stares at you like you’ve made a bad joke.

“Say that again.”

He startles you by using his fingers to rub circles onto your clothed clit.

You let out a squeak when he applies more pressure onto the sensitive nub, drawling a moan to spill from your lips.

“What do you want?”

He’s getting impatient, shoving your panties to the side and sliding a finger inside of you.

You sighed and held onto his shoulders when he started pumping the digit in and out of your wetness.

“Can you fuck me please?” You look him in the eye as you say this, making him hiss and groan in satisfaction.

“Since you asked so nicely…”

His finger picks up a rapid pace, your juices smeared messily over his hand.

“Fuck baby, you’re so wet already…”

He sticks his tongue out and you oblige by sucking on his wet muscle.

Shortly after, he replaces it with his soaked finger and you take the whole length of his finger into your mouth and swirled your tongue around it.

Namjoon feels more blood rush to his cock if that is even possible, because he is so hard, he doesn’t even know if he can feel his dick.

You slowly let your oversized shirt fall off your shoulders, sliding down to expose your breasts.

Namjoon rips the shirt apart instead and latches his mouth onto a hardened nipple.

He cups the other breast in one hand, passionately massaging it while his other hand runs up and down the slickness of your heat.

“Everything about you…Mmm—so perfect…” He hums and sucks on your breast.

You were going to explode.

He was touching you in so many places at once, his hard length brushing against your torso occasionally and his hands possessively roaming over every inch of your skin.

“Namjoon,” You whined out to him again, wanting more than just touching and kissing.

“Turn around,” He commands deeply and you hurry to his desired position, giving him a full view of your ass.

He slaps it on instinct, before coming up to rub the sting away.

Namjoon doesn’t give you a heads up before sliding his cock into you easily.

Screaming, he starts off rough like his kisses and you can’t help but feel tears pricking at the corner of your eyes.

The pain was forced into pleasure as he continued to piston his hips into you relentlessly, the thickness stretching you out and filling you up so good.

As he slammed into you harder and harder, you felt like you were being used as a sex toy. Like he was only venting in the sex with you.

You hated it, but it still felt impossibly good and irresistible.

“Ah, god. You feel so fucking tight—argh!” He moans and you clench around him even more at the noise he made.

“N-Namjoon,” You repeated his name for as many times as you could, enjoying the way you can call him like that, in this manner.

Namjoon was close. He could feel it just by seeing you sprawled out naked for him, ass up and head smashed onto the pillow. The way your ass jiggled every time his hips smacked onto them, the pretty little noises you made with every thrust.

The way his name sounded falling from your lips.

He came inside of you, right after you climaxed with the help of the rubbing of your clit with your own fingers and the both you plopped down next to each other, beat from the sex.

Moments like these; him lying next to side half-naked and smiling away about nothing at all, and the small giggles that erupt from your lungs, the accidental light grazes of his hand over yours, his dimpled smile that rarely showed up.

When you wake up to the sun that glared fiercely through the nylon sheets of your temporary shelter, Namjoon was watching you.

Jumping back, you grab the blanket as a form of protection.

“What… are you doing here?!”

He looks down, trying to contain his laughter.

“Wait, where am I?”

The memories start running back to you piece by piece and you nod in realisation.

“Ah, right.”

Namjoon flashes the last of his full smile that is equivalent to the sun.

Moments like these, are short-lived.

“Y/N,” He says, tone somehow serious but casual.

“I’m leaving.”

You gather yourself and listen.

“Last night, was spectacular.” He tells you confidently. A shade of coral brushes over your cheeks.

“Not just…that, of course. I really enjoyed every second spent with you and I’m so glad you came into my life. Even if it was just for a night. Or day, whatever.”

Because nothing ever goes smoothly in life.

Even Alice had to leave Wonderland.

“I’m going to find her and get her back.”

Happiness was still something you were going to continue searching for, while Namjoon fights for his own.

“Oh,” It’s all you can reply, your head a pool of thoughts, words, feelings and emotions. But you wouldn’t voice them out. You couldn’t.

“Goodluck. I had a fun time as well.”

Even though you wished for more.

“I hope you’ll be heading wherever you need to be as well?”

Namjoon stretches his hand out and you slap it.

He was inserting all this platonic gestures to not make it feel weirder than it already is.

“Yeah. Will be on my way.”

You can already sense a Jungkook driving his way here to pick you up according to the summon of your father. While Namjoon will look for his lover and seek the clarification he needs.

In fact, the both of you will be on your separate ways now.

This, is where the true journey of a bus ride with him, ends.

It’s been exactly ten weeks since your strange encounter with Namjoon.

An encounter that consisted of almost everything an adventure had in store.

All of this is not a coincidence , you like to believe.

Every single time you were on a bus, you can’t help but wonder if Namjoon would magically pop out and turn your life downside up. Cause the butterflies in your stomach to form again. You want to know what he’s doing. If him and his girlfriend are well now.

Even as of right now, you can’t help but anticipate the next bus ride to happen, rejecting Jungkook’s offer for a ride.

At night, you cannot sleep without thinking about the moonlight that shines in his eyes.

The way your name falls from his lips.

His soft touches and gentle caresses.

His sweet and plump lips with his big hands on your hips.

As much as you’d like to forget, no one has ever brought you to close to euphoria before.

It was considerably the happiest moment in your stagnant life.

Being with Namjoon made you feel like achieved something great. The strong thumping of your heart, the words that flowed so smoothly out of your mouth, your jumbled thoughts coming together perfectly with him around.

It just felt so right.

A tap on your shoulder caused you to remove an ear bud.

“Excuse me, miss. Is this seat taken?”

#btssmutclub #hyunglinenetwork #btsguild #namjoon smut #namjoon angst #namjoon scenarios #namjoon x reader #bts scenarios #namjoon fluff #bts smut #bts angst #namjoon fanfic #jungkook #bts #kim namjoon #namjoon #namjoon x oc #bangtan #bts fanfic

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ariannjs · 5 years

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KARIN | A SasuSaku FanFic (10/10)

(Karin - Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9)

——–

Hey guys! It's been a whiiiiile! I'm so sorry that I'm just uploading this now. To be honest, this epilogue has been finished since last August but idk I felt quite afraid to post it that I totally forgot all about it@.@ Nonetheless, here it isss! Accck I'm shy! HAHA. But here's a late New Year and Valentine's Gift to you all, SS fam!

Thank you for journeying with me as I wrote my very first multi-chaptered SasuSaku fic! I am extremely grateful for all of your encouraging comments on this and all my other works. 2019 has been really difficult but I praise God because this writing journey became highly therapeutic for me that it led me to meeting more SS fans as well! So yeah, Arigatou Gozaimashita!

Alright, I won't hold you back for long, here's the Epilogue of "Karin"! Enjoy!xx

——–

The only time that Sasuke Uchiha had felt incredibly nervous was back when his father was mentoring him on how to use Katon. Though many years had passed, he could still vividly remember that heart-pounding, stomach-twisting sensation of not knowing if he’d be able to produce an impressive result as his father’s eyes were fixated on him.

And now, he could feel the same thing with what he was planning to do.

Although they didn’t really have the best father-son relationship, he knew that if Fugaku Uchiha was still alive, he’s the best person who could give him the most logical advice that he needed at the moment, considering that they were, in many ways, similar in terms of their personality.

That’s why absurdly, he wished his father was here to tell him how to execute his plan in a step-by-step manner like how he passed on to him the Great Fireball Technique.

Sasuke wasn't the kind of person who finds asking questions necessary, a manifestation of the superiority that tended to be his facade even in his most vulnerable state. But if only he could, there were lots of questions that he would like to ask his Otou-san.

How exactly did father ask mother to marry him?

Did he feel as insanely apprehensive as I am right now?

Did mother actually say yes on father’s first attempt to ask?

How many chances does a man have anyway, just in case...just in case the woman says no?

These, and probably a lot more.

With thoughts all over the place, Sasuke fidgeted on the couch as he watched Sakura make funny faces at the giggling Suika on the floor of the Hozuki’s living room.

She’s still so annoying, he couldn’t help but think. Doesn’t she have the slightest idea about how much he was falling in love with her all the more each day?

Observing Sakura with Suika has been one of his favorite past times ever since the redhead baby was born. It just showed him much of the pureness of her heart towards people, children in particular. And it only solidified his resolve that he has made the right decision – probably the best in his life so far – about spending the rest of his life with his female teammate in his genin squad.

He planned to ask her that special question today, when the opportunity arises. His brain has been trying its best to figure out how to do so ever since he came out of the hospital weeks ago. But being Sasuke Uchiha, there was no grand preparation and sappy romantic gestures despite the ridiculous suggestions of his best friend and the disgusting persuasion of his sensei for him to read his favorite book. All he knew was it was completely fixed in his mind that this woman was the one he wanted to marry.

And today was the day that he’s gonna make Sakura Haruno say yes to being an Uchiha.

So while they were waiting for the Hozuki couple to finish packing their belongings, he was on the alert for any open chance to bring up his question in the same way he has his guard up whenever a possible enemy is lingering around.

“Is something bothering you, Sasuke-kun?”

Tch. Why does she have to know him so well?

He tersely shook his head, eyes on Suika who was curiously staring at him with her tiny hand in her mouth.

“You know I’m always here to listen when you’re ready.” Sakura showed that breathtaking smile of hers that seemed to be reserved just for him. TCH!

“Oh, you want to go to Uncle Sasuke? Okay! Okay! Stop bouncing!” She then giggled to the kid, leaned to carry her, and then placed her on Sasuke’s lap.

Suika stretched an arm out to reach for his face, and for a moment, it was effective in drawing his gaze away from Sakura. But the head medic moved closer to wipe the side of Suika's mouth with a bib as the baby babbled incoherent words.

For a second, Sasuke's mind went blank, bringing him to a different timeline wherein quite the same scene was happening as if he was in a genjutsu. It was breathtaking. His heart constricted with longing for the surreal image to become a reality, despite it being far-fetched.

Years ago, he never imagined that he would have the chance of having a family of his own. And yes, even up to now, the idea was still something that his mind wrestled to accept as something that he deserved.

But then, his eyes met Sakura’s once more. And just like all the other times that he has met her gaze, something inside him changed and made him feel like it's just so easy to drop all his hesitations because of her – for her.

“Sakura...I–”

“Wow! I can’t believe it’s our last day.”

Their heads suddenly whipped towards the bedroom door as their redhead friend exited, followed by her husband who had just finished sealing their baggage in a scroll.

Half irked yet half relieved with the interruption, Sasuke sighed as he handed the baby to her frowning mother. It was a good thing that Sakura didn't realize he was about to tell her something important.

Maybe later, then.

Suigetsu shrugged. "Some things really come to an end, Karin."

“That’s sadly true,” Sakura joined in the conversation, approaching the Hozuki matriarch to pass on the baby's bib. “But the good thing is that every time a season ends, a new one is about to begin.” She smiled at the woman who has become one of her closest friends.

It was saddening to see their family leave, but she’s just so excited for them to finally reside in a place they could truly call their home. Besides, they deserved it after everything they've been through individually and as a family.

“It’s time to go.” Everyone turned to the Uchiha who was already standing by the door.

So with a toothy grin, Suigetsu placed an arm around his wife’s shoulders before saying, “Let’s go, Karin. I’m excited for you and Suika to see Hidden Mist.”

The walk towards the gates of Konoha seemed like a trip down memory lane. So when they finally reached that familiar arc that welcomes and sends off Konoha's villagers and visitors, Karin wasn't able to stop herself from handing over Suika to her husband and then throwing her arms as tight as she could around Sasuke.

"Karin. How many times should I tell you to get off me, especially because you're a married woman?"

The redhead chuckled at that, amused with how detached he still was – well, except for a certain pink-haired maiden. "My husband wouldn't mind though!"

Sasuke rolled his eyes but found himself glancing at the other woman with them, wondering if she would mind about the situation. However, he only caught her laughing cutely at the ordeal. He couldn't bring himself to scoff.

Pulling away for the Uchiha to be comfortable, Karin sheepishly said, "Thank you so much for everything, Sasuke. I'm so glad that you've found redemption for yourself. No doubt, you'll be able to help more people inside and outside this village. Like us. I will never forget this."

Karin realized that staying in Konoha was the happiest moment of her life so far. And she knew that despite her initial doubts about the idea, everything wouldn’t happen if her husband didn’t force her to join Sasuke in going to this place for her and their baby's safety. Yet she never expected that the decision would be life-changing for all of them.

Suigetsu agreed with a nod. “Sasuke, you've done so much for us. I owe my family’s life to you. I honestly can't thank you enough."

The former leader of Team Taka was stunned at the way his teammates expressed their gratitude to him. He never even thought that there's anything anyone should thank him for. If anything, it was them that he should've thanked for they've shown him a glimpse of what a transformed life and an assured future look like. But as usual, he was not exactly good with words.

Remembering how they've witnessed the majority of his worst years yet they're still here to stand by him, Sasuke's eyes softened as he gave the couple a simple yet meaningful nod in response.

The pink-haired maiden beside him was smiling the entire time. Sakura didn't know all the details of Sasuke's journey with Taka, but to see him developing such strong bonds even outside of Team 7 was something that she considered a breakthrough. It gave her joy knowing that this scenario was an assurance to Sasuke that he won't ever be alone anymore.

"Before I forget, please bring these pills that would help in keeping you from the cold during your travels," Sakura then handed a small pouch to Karin. "This is helpful especially for Suika since this would be her first exposure to such cold weather."

If Karin was able to stop her tears from falling while talking to Sasuke, she wasn't able to contain it anymore while staring at the pouch given by Sakura. This woman has done so much in bringing out the best in her without her knowing. And so, she also enveloped her in an embrace that's so rare for Karin to give, well, except when it's for her husband and Sasuke.

“Sakura, you’ve saved my life not just once. And then you've shown me the kind of life I never imagined I could still have. Thank you for trusting me and for believing in my potential.” Karin sniffed while Sakura gave her a pat on the back, unable to stop a tear from falling as well. And then the redhead pulled away, instantly wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand with a big smile at her senpai. "I'm not usually like this but—ugh! It's because of the two of you!"

At her loud remark, Sasuke raised an eyebrow while Sakura ended up cackling with a hand on her stomach.

"Whew. At least it's not me this time." Suigetsu snickered too, rocking the baby in his arms that was awakened by the voice of her mother.

Karin almost landed a punch to her husband's liquefiable head, but thanks to Suika's sleepy murmur, she opted to avoid violence to carry the baby again. "Ssh. I'm sorry, kid. Mama's a little different today because of your godmother and godfather." She stuck a tongue out at the two and Sasuke could only snort as Sakura continued to laugh.

"Ha. Sorry, Karin could be crazy at times, or…" The Hozuki patriarch paused and pretended to contemplate. "...actually, most of the time."

"Hey! You're lucky I'm holding your daughter!"

"Kidding, guys. I love that woman nonetheless."

Sakura and Sasuke didn't fail to see the tinge of maroon on the redhead's cheeks before she turned around to hide it. Uncomfortable with such things, the Uchiha scoffed at the sight of his old teammates. But then, he slightly jerked as something hit his side almost close to his ribs.

When he shot a sharp glance at the woman beside him, Sakura was just smiling innocently at the Hozuki's. Yet this doctor might need to heal something later, courtesy of her pointed elbow.

Suigetsu noticed the interchange and smirked a little, having high hopes that one day, these two would finally end up like him and his wife. He then grinned. "But really, the two of you have made a difference in our lives. We'll surely remember this and even tell Suika one day. Sasuke, you better visit us in one of Orochimaru's hideouts. And then bring Sakura-san with you."

"As if I'd want to go back there."

Scrunching her nose, Sakura shivered at the prospect of being in the aforementioned place.

Karin wasn't able to stifle her guffaw as she faced her friends again. "But we don't know, Sasuke, what if you'd eventually need to visit? And that would be nice! I want Suika to meet you both one day!"

"Tch. You'd really want your daughter to grow up in that dumpsite?"

"Oi! You kind of grew up there too!" Suigetsu teased.

Staring blankly, Sasuke fought the urge to burn the couple with his powerful eyes for the sake of their daughter. And then he said, "You better leave now. It's almost dusk."

"Fine then, yes, sir!"

"Take care of your family, Suigetsu."

"Always. And you, take care of Sakura-san!" There was a smirk on Suigetsu's lips as Sasuke remained silent at that. But he knew full well, Sasuke would cross time and dimensions and even give his life just to protect Sakura. This time, his strength would be used not for his own selfish agenda, but for the sake of the people he cared for. Just like what he did for Suigetsu and his family.

"Oh. This is real now, isn't it?"

Sakura reached out and gave Karin's hand a squeeze, looking down on Suika who was now awake after all the commotion with her parents and godparents. A giggle escaped her tiny lips upon seeing Sakura, making Sakura frown a bit as her green eyes met the baby's purple ones. "Yes, it's real now, Karin. But this ain't goodbye. See you soon." She smiled one last time before moving aside, waving a small goodbye as the Hozuki's finally exited the village hidden in the leaves.

Sasuke and Sakura silently remained on their posts as the two figures became smaller from afar.

Until Sakura murmured, "They're such a beautiful family, aren’t they?" Slowly, Sasuke tilted his head to gaze at her. And at that very moment, everything felt right. He took in her beauty as the setting sun made her face glow and the breathing wind made her cherry blossom hair sway in slow motion. It reminded him of those times in his redemption journey that he marvelled at the sight of Cherry Blossom trees because it made him feel like she was beside him, albeit far away.

Now that it became real, he thought of how wonderful it would be to have more peaceful moments like this with her. So as they stood in the place where he first broke her heart, he finally chose to drop all hesitations so he could do what he wanted to accomplish before the day ends, with high hopes that he could also give Sakura a new memory with him in this place.

"Sakura. Do you...want to have something like that?" The Hozuki's were already out of sight but his first female teammate continued to stare at a distance. "A future family?" She smiled, clutching her hands to her chest as she thought of the only man she'd want to spend the rest of her life with. And then she said in a soft voice, “I've...I've always wanted to." "I want to have that too...with you."

With wide eyes, Sakura turned to Sasuke who was now looking at the path his friends walked on. There was no trace of humor on his face, only an expression that showed solace and expectancy. “S-sas—”

"But Sakura...it is clear as day that you deserve the best. And that’s...that’s not me." Sasuke’s gaze fell to the ground. "I'm not even exactly a good man, so I'm far from being the best for you. There were so many things that I've done that destroyed and hurt so many people, including you and the ones that you care for. So even though I'd...I'd really want a future with you, I don't think you deserve someone whose past is as wicked as mine."

"Sasuke-kun, all those is exactly what you've said – a part of the past. My love for you is not based on what you've done or what you would do. It's simply based on you, Sasuke-kun. Just you. Anything else doesn't matter, as long as...as long as I know that you deeply love me." She paused. "Do you love me?" There was a momentary pause as he looked up at her dazzling eyes. But it wasn’t because he was doubting his answer, for Sasuke has always been sure.

For a second, he wanted to chuckle at the irony that Sakura Haruno could read words and situations, analyze lab tests and battle strategies, but she couldn’t read and analyze the feelings that Sasuke Uchiha has for her.

It was not her fault that he hadn’t made himself crystal clear yet though.

So he thought of the best way to vividly convey his answer to her question and firmly address her uncertainties about her standing in his life all this time.

He then settled in responding through the best and significant way he knows. Smiling a little, he gently tapped her forehead right below the diamond-shaped mark of her strength before saying, "You should know that by now.”

Just like the first time Sasuke did this, Sakura's eyes widened and her lips parted a little as her cheeks became painted with pink. The only difference now was that she stared back at him with recognition, eyes brimming with tears of none other than joy. To know that her love was reciprocated for such a long time already made her feel elated more than ever.

For so many times, she has almost given up in waiting. But it was true all along, being loved back by the man she has always loved was worth the long wait. She regrets nothing for even after everything, it all came down to this. Sasuke looked away as he remembered something. "That time you've been avoiding me because of Karin...it made me realize that I couldn’t stand a life without you." He muttered something like "Never again" and then faced her with his mismatched eyes focusing intently – lovingly – on her green ones. "If you’re willing to make things work together with me...Sakura, marry me." Sakura's tears finally fell upon hearing those last words that she thought she would never hear from this man. She didn't even have to contemplate on what she would answer for she immediately said, "I could never imagine loving and marrying anyone else, Sasuke-kun."

And then she tapped his forehead in the same way he did with her, making Sasuke's eyes widen and his heart flutter in a way that he never felt before. His lips curved into a smile as he pulled her into a long embrace that surprised even him. But as Sakura melted in his arms as if she had always belonged there, he felt completely relieved that he got the answer he had prayed to receive from her. Maybe this was what Suigetsu had felt when Karin agreed to spend the rest of her life with him as well, he thought.

The satisfied smile on Sakura’s lips after they pulled away made Sasuke’s heart skip a beat. It still felt like he was dreaming, the fact that he was staring at his wife-to-be. “Let’s go home.”

“Yours or mine?”

Sasuke slowly grabbed her hand, after all, he has every right to do so now. “Ours. From now on, you have to be comfortable around the Uchiha compound. I’ll just walk you back to your place tonight.”

As the two of them walked hand in hand back to the village, two pairs of eyes continued to watch them from the nearby trees.

“Heh, Kakashi-sensei, this is a lot better than the last time the three of us were here with Karin, ‘ttebayo!”

——–

August 2019 | AriannJS

——–

8 chapters. 8 characters. 8 months. It's a wrap! *cries in G#m* This fic is now saying sayonara! But hmm...who knows, I might actually get to finish a one-shot sequel for this. Well, we'll see. ;) Arigatou Gozaimashita, mina-san! I appreciate you all!

- A

#SASUSAKU #sasusaku fanfics #ss fics #sakura haruno #sasuke uchiha #sakura uchiha #karin #ss fanfics #ss fanfiction #ariannjfics

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rebellingstagnationblog · 5 years

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2019 Geronimo Christmas Fics

That’s right, we’re doing it again! 25 new Geronimo fics published December 1-25.

The title? “That’s Christmas to Me”

The playlist? All Pentatonix songs

The theme? Well, why don’t you see for yourself? Here’s a first look at day 1

God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen

youtube

[[MORE]]

This world was dark, even for her tastes.

Physically, that was.

She could not yet speak for the metaphorical; she had only just arrived, after all, and rumors were nothing to base one’s perceptions on.

Searchlights were the primary source of light, their long beams stretching up into the dark sky, making a long sweep from one end of the metropolis to the other. If there was a moon or stars, she couldn’t tell. The searchlights were too bright to allow anything in the vast vacuum of space to shine down onto the world below.

Her boots crunched on the newly fallen snow, a satisfying snap snap snap as she made her way down the street. There was no question as to the direction she was headed. The building in the center of town was the one to which the searchlights were fixed, giving off its position with all the finesse of a disco ball.

Darkwarrior Duck might be the most fearsome of all the Darkwings in the multiverse, but he still had the same ego. The same lack of sense when it came to anything involving stealth or sophistication.

At least there was order here. Her simmering irritation was soothed at seeing how precisely the citizens moved about. Crossed the street at crosswalks. Cars merged with clear signals for at least 300 feet before changing lanes. Everyone stuck to their side of the sidewalk, eyes forward without any sort of technology out to distract them.

It was because of this — this enforcement of rules and regulations — that she was walking down this sidewalk to begin with.

She crossed the street with a few citizens and continued marching toward the building that set her teeth on edge. On her own. No one else was heading anywhere close to this part of town.

Dark ebony robots, the shapes of which resembled Darkwarrior’s head with claws extending out below their beaks hovered before her. What a terrible design. Their only option for movement was strictly airborn since they had no legs. And it seemed rather arrogant to shape something after one's own features.

Then again.

Look at their designer.

“Identification, please,” came the modulated voice. Weak and wavering compared to those in her own world.

She stared unblinkingly at the robot. “Ana Di Lengo.”

The robot hovered, bobbing up and down gently, completely silent for a few moments. “Error. Death records exist for one Ana Di Lengo. Identification, please.”

She sent the bot — and whoever was watching through it's cameras — a thin smile. “Death records exist for the Ana in this universe perhaps. I, however, am not from here.”

The robot fell into silence again. And moved aside as the door behind it swung open.

Complete blackness yawned before her, the building imposing and endless. She stepped through without a moments hesitation.

It was all for show, this grandiose structure. The security out front meant to intimidate the visitor and give them some idea of who they were about to deal with.

But Ana was not intimidated.

The blackness inside was not so complete that she couldn't see where she was going. The lobby was empty, a colossal curved staircase curling upwards that took her to the second level. Into a rounded antechamber, which also was empty.

The walls were fitted with large panels of glass, windows revealing the sprawling city around them. Pale snow blanketed the streets and buildings, dulling the lights that tried their best to illuminate the darkness. In the center of this rounded chamber was a circular platform, along one side of which were stacked rows of computer monitors like bricks in the facade of a building. They showed the city from different angles, some stationary shots evidently from fixed cameras and others moving, likely from robots on patrol, sending back their feed.

Within this half-circle of monitors sat one solitary chair. Padded. With low arms and a wide back. Almost wide enough to obscure the figure that was sitting in it. Almost.

The room was not so empty after all.

The chair was facing away from her. But she didn't need to see his face to know who was lying in wait.

“You're very far from home,” came a purr out of the darkness.

Ana came to stand at the edge of the platform, hands tucked behind her back and head held high. “Turn around and face me, Drake. Where are your manners?”

The figure stiffened either at her tone or at the casual name she called him. Whichever the reason, Ana felt her beak twist into a triumphant smirk.

She allowed it to fall as the chair swiveled around. No need to show off.

Within the plush upholstery sat a familiar figure. Wearing the ridiculous purple outfit with a large brimmed fedora in a matching shade. He had foregone the button down suit and substituted it with something akin to a jumpsuit that was belted at the hips. Military grade boots — steel toed by the looks of them — would have blended into the darkness if they hadn't been polished to a shine. The infantile cape was secured around his shoulders, tucked underneath sizable spiked shoulder armor, making him all the more imposing and broad.

There was still a mask secured around his face, but his eyes glowed red. It was into these that Ana stared, unabashed and unafraid.

As Darkwarrior Duck sized her up.

She in her own black uniform. Much crisper and more impressive than his spiked armor. Drake was many things; subtle was not one of them, no matter the universe.

“Are we going to discuss why you're here? Or is this a staring contest?” he asked, his voice carefully controlled and giving away nothing. She was almost impressed. Almost.

“Don’t joke with me, boy,” Ana snapped. “You can guess why I'm here, surely.”

Darkwarrior leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled in his militaristic gloves. “It must be something big if the great Ana Di Lengo traveled all the way from the Posiverse to visit me.”

“Oh, yes, bravo,” Ana intoned, glaring at Darkwarrior down her beak. “Come, come, Drake. If we are to be allies, I must be able to trust that you can put two and two together on your own.”

He frowned. “My name is Darkwarrior.”

Ana narrowed her eyes a fraction. “Not to me.”

Darkwarrior eyed her.

She let the silence linger.

Silence is a funny thing. Everyone is quick to break it. It makes people uncomfortable, you see. The lack of noise makes them believe they need to be filling the void with something. If you stay quiet long enough, your counterpart will inevitably start talking.

“Allies, you and I?” Darkwarrior asked. “Against whom?”

Case in point.

Silence: a leader’s most effective tool.

“Against the monstrosity that is Gosalyn Mallard Prime.” Saying the name was like a bad taste on her tongue. Gosalyn Mallard had come into Ana’s world to be put on trial and punished for her rash actions of traveling around the multiverse. She had not only escaped her lifelong sentence, but had incentivized the people of Ana’s world — the Posiverse — to uprise and fight against the rules that had been put in place to protect them. Even Ana’s second in command, her own son, had gone against her and joined ranks with the Gosalyn from their own world.

Gosalyn Mallard Prime had ruined everything.

And Ana would show that girl the justice that was in the wake of such haphazard and reckless rule breaking.

Ana took a breath.

Patience.

All in good time.

Darkwarrior raised an eyebrow, still peering over his steepled fingers. “She has a big support system. To go against her is to go against them all.”

“Hence why I am here.”

Smirking, Darkwarrior leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You need me.”

“And your robots. When going up against repeat rule breakers, it's best to come prepared with the full force of the law.”

Darkwarrior Duck was grinning fully now, a cunning curl of his beak.

Another voice, however, came from the darkness. A slighter sound, weaker. “We can offer our full forces.”

Ana glanced to where the voice had come from and felt her fingers twitch at the sight, ready to grab a weapon. But she stayed her hand.

It was another Gosalyn. This one brown haired and softer. More reserved. She seemed to have some semblance of rules and etiquette, her hands hanging at her sides and her expression one of respect as she surveyed Ana with her green eyes.

Ana pushed aside her confusion — the entire point of the Darkwarrior universe was that a Gosalyn didn’t exist, after all, so how one could be here was mind numbing — and inclined her head. “Together, I am confident that we can accomplish our goal.”

“No violence,” this brown-haired Gosalyn said as she stepped fully out of the shadows and stood beside Darkwarrior.

Ana studied them together, the dark uncompromising version of her son and this girl who shouldn’t exist. Really, neither of them should exist. This universe was a blight on an otherwise perfect system.

But, desperate times.

Ana bowed her head. “No violence,” she echoed.

The brown haired Gosalyn nodded. “Then we will help you bring order to the Prime Universe.”

Ana sent a thin smile to the girl. “Might I ask who you are?”

“Christine.”

Still a Gosalyn, but going by a different name. Interesting. Ana would need to study her records to find out where this one had come from, for it surely wasn’t here. Could not be here.

“You have a bright future ahead of you, my dear.” Ana looked between the two. “Shall we settle on a date?”

Darkwarrior finally stood, gesturing off to the side. “We can use my consulting room.”

“There’s less potential of being overheard in there,” Christine offered, a smile gracing her beak as she led the way.

Ana nodded once in agreement before following the impossible girl.

P.S. Since I��m not taking requests for stories/songs this year for the main story, I will happily take holiday related requests from people if they’re interested. DM me so we can talk more!

#darkwing duck #fanfiction #geronimo series #25 days of christmas

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chlobenet · 5 years

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VIOLENT DELIGHTS ASK DROP 💀🖤

I’ve not been online for a hot minute and I’ve come back to 50+ Gennie asks so lets just get straight into another ask drop under the cut ♡

I need some inspiration on what to write next so I will definitely add this to the maybe list - open to more suggestions as well!

Ooooh Polly 10000% has a soft spot for Gennie, and Gen looks up to Poll so so so much, honestly she lowkey idolises her. I do think some earlier season Gen could be fun to write so i’ll definitely keep these ideas in mind!

The only specific scene that comes to mind at the minute is the scene with the italian that tommy kills in the kitchen when the chef is like “my hands have blood” and tom says “so have mine.” I think gennie would be pretty shocked by this side of thomas that she has absolutely never seen before. For the most part though, I do think that the boys successfully keep gen away from the gory truth of the peaky blinders - but she does hear about it a lot of the time, and sometimes it makes them feel lowkey bad because they never want gen to be disappointed in them, or even worse...scared of them.

Gen and tom aren’t even a romantic coupling at this point but I can 100% get behind thomas standing up and even physically shielding her from the police with his own body - blocking them from getting to her. At the time gen wouldn’t even realise what he’s doing because she is just so shocked by the events that are unfolding infront of her. After a while they’re the only ones in the room and she would just be blinking at him, confused, upset, hurt. He’ll just stare back at her for a long time “dont look at me like that Gennie...”

listen buddy, pal, my guy...i love her too sm and I love that you love her and that means that I love you! As for this scene, it’s definitely one i’ll hopefully be able to incorporate into a chapter of violent delights because the way gen and tom are together compared to tom and ada for example is extremely different and it would be a fun contrast to see.

same so much...gen is... baby🥺

now I’M crying at the thought of tommy introducing gen as his wife to people and oh GOSH.

Listen Gen mad or upset is the absolute worst because she doesn’t scream and shout at you, she doesn’t throw things around the room or show any kind of emotional at all really. When gen is mad, she gets real real quiet and she probably wont speak to you for a while and she’ll be damned if she looks at you because honestly looking at you when you’ve hurt gen physically hurts her heart. There’s no greater pain in gennie locks eyes than betrayal or someone doing something knowing that it is going to hurt you - so yeah she doesn’t get into a slanging match with tommy and in some ways he thinks it’s so much worse. She will talk things through though, after she’s had time to collect her thoughts and sort of...evaluate how she’s feeling about situations.

Tommy knows that gen wants kids and he knows with every fibre of his being that she would make the most amazing mother. I don’t think gen would ever really talk about it because she knows tommy already has children and she doesn’t ever want him to think she expects things of him but yes she wants kids more than anything on earth. It’s just sort of an unspoken thing between them, they know it’s going to happen - but they’re not rushing it, when it happens it happens and it will be magical.

Honestly I dont actually think gennie does realise just how much tom does love her, even though he does tell her. She just can’t fathom that someone could possibly love her, little gennie lock, that much. But he does.

Gennie, John and Archie are all the same age. A lot of people thought Gen and Arch were twins in school but nope, just cousins!

Gen worries about Arthur, she really does. I think that she would maybe try and discuss it with tommy but he would explain that arthur is the kind of man that needs to have a purpose and sometimes arthurs only purpose in life is doing business for the peaky blinders. If he wasn’t given something like that to focus on then he would be left to his own devices and even gennie herself knows that has the potential to be so much more dangerous.

Oh my goodness I love this. I do love the idea that gennie is so gracious that she gives off this air of sort of...not importance but you understand what I’m trying to say. I love the idea of the line you’ve come up with for tom and lowkey might steal it. I think the only thing that would ever give gennie away is the fact that although she is well spoken, and extremely intelligent she does still have her birmingham accent - and that’s just a dead giveaway right there.

I think I’ve answered something similar to this previously but basically alfie and gen have this strange sort of ~respect~ for one another. Gennie appreciates that he’s a dangerous man, but she also feels fairly safe in his presence. He makes it very clear early on that she has absolutely nothing to fear from him and she believes him when he says it. That doesn’t necessarily mean she likes him (initially at least) nor does she really trust him, but...yeah she respects him.

Tom would definitely be the one out of the pair of them to admit his feelings first, but he’s also got a whole world of respect for both gennie and his brother so it would be a bit troubling for him when he realises that wow he’s in love with little gennie lock from down the lane. I think he would tell her, but not exactly openly it would be more of a “please, stay...” kind of moment, where he reaches out and takes her hand. They’d both look down and their hands, and then back up at one another and gennie would just nod “okay.”

Hmmm good question, I’m undecided. There may well be a “its you, little gennie lock it’s always been you.” sort of line, maybe on their wedding day but I’m not sure. I’m not even entirely sure thomas knows that’s how he’s always felt so WHO KNOWS - what do you think??

I don’t think so you know! Not through lack of suitors, because lets be honest gennie lock is an absolute catch. But she’s also extremely sentimental and loyal and she is pretty sure that john shelby is the love of her life and even though she’s resigned herself to the fact that they will never be together because of esme and her respect for their relationship - that doesn’t mean that she stops loving him, or that she can look at anyone else in that way. We love one (1) loyal princess.

Listen, tom and gennie talk. They talk a lot more than he talks to anyone else and he’s told her about the war and he’s told her about the dreams he has and sometimes he doesn’t even know why he’s telling her but she’s just so easy to tell and god is she an excellent listener. She doesn’t judge him. She understands that sometimes tommy needs to forget and he needs to sleep and she wants nothing more than for him to feel happy and safe and comfortable so if that’s what he needs then so be it.

I think if I wrote a scene where tom was having one of his grace moments and gennie entered then I’d write it as though grace sort of ... evaporated or disappeared the second gennie enters the room. Even if grace is midway through saying something, gennie is enough to push the thoughts or the hallucinations away and tom might stare dumbfounded at the wall for a hot minute in astonishment but then he’ll look at his wife and he’s just like #of course.

hahah i love this headcanon and I also think that gen would love to watch tom be around/talking about horses because he’s just so in his element and so...at peace?

I think after tommy refuses to go and see lizzie then polly would suggest to gennie that she go and see thomas. I think she’d consider sending lizzie, but then deep down polly knows that tom needs a sort of emotional support that lizzie isn’t capable of providing. You have to remember as well that gennie has lost archie who was the most important person in her life, she knows grief and she recognises that in thomas but there’s more to it than just grief. I think initially tom would try and push her away but..she’s not having any of that!

honestly idk if hair dye was actually a thing then?? so either gen darkens her hair as the seasons go on or...it’s more of a metaphorical thing. S1 gennie is brilliantly blonde, this wide eyes innocent little girl from birmingham who has absolutely no idea what she’s in for. By s5 gen has dark hair and it’s reflective of how her innocence has been tarnished by the peaky blinders as the years have gone on. She’s still an inherently good person, but s5 gen and s1 gen are two very different women.

#gennie asks #violent delights #gennie lock #thomas shelby #john shelby #grace shelby #ok i didn't answer all 50 because i am TIRED but you get the idea #i will do another drop soon :)

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kristasclassicfilmereview · 5 years

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What to Watch this Holiday Season!

Life can get a little busy for all of us this time of year. Some of us may find it a little difficult to get into the holiday spirit. Most of the time I find watching a Christmas film or show helps to boost the spirits. So I have compiled a list of film suggestions that I have compiled and continued to watch every year. For me, I watch a lot of these films when I making my dozens upon dozens of Pizzelles during the Christmas season.

Please keep in mind there is no ranking system to this list, it is just a list. Some films I have already written about previously. Others I have watched but not have written. Also, like my thanksgiving list, I do have an honorable mention section as well. So here is my list.

1. White Christmas- 1954: For me, this film has been one of the first films I watch right after Thanksgiving, normally Black Friday or during the weekend. To be honest I think it is mainly because of the music. Most have heard of this musical, and even listen to songs during the holiday season but if you have yet to watch it, the story is a song and dance team become involved with a sister act who help out an owner of a failing Vermont Inn Owner who was their commanding officer. This film has an all-star cast; Bing Crosby, Danny Kaye, Rosemary Clooney, & Vera-Ellen. A fun fact about this film this is not the first time the song White Christmas has appeared on film and sung by Bing Crosby. The first time Bing Crosby sang White Christmas was during the film Holiday Inn in 1942.

2. Miracle on 34th Street-1947: The first time I watched this film was probably when I was 10 or 11. Yes, I was 10 or 11 watching a black and white film! It always came on right after the parade. When a nice old man who claims to be Santa Claus is institutionalized as insane, a young lawyer decides to defend him by arguing in court that he is the real thing. I don’t know if it was Natalie Wood, Maureen O’Hara, or Edmund Gwen who made me a believer in Santa when I was young, but this film has the potential to make even the Grinch a believer.

3. It’s a Wonderful Life-1946: Growing up this film has always been a Christmas Eve Tradition in my family. This the one film I never watch before Christmas Eve. I am happy to say this tradition continues to live on even as we have gotten older. Some may say this is the number one Christmas movie of all time, which they are probably right. It is just a wonderful film. For those who have not seen this film, the synopsis is an angel is sent from heaven to help a desperately frustrated businessman by showing him what life would be like if he never existed. This film was directed by Frank Capra and stars Jimmy Stewart, Donna Reed, and Henry Travers.

4. The Shop Around The Corner-1940: If you search through my blog you will find this is one of my favorite films. Also, some may realize this film has since been remade with You’ve Got Mail. This is a fun romantic comedy starring Jimmy Stewart and Margaret Sullavan. The story goes two employees at a gift shop can barely stand each other, without realizing they are falling in love through the post as each other’s anonymous pen pals. You may wonder why a film such as this has made my list, well the gift shop is gearing up for the Christmas rush and the film concludes wonderfully at the end with sweet Christmas present.

5. Christmas in Connecticut-1945: Again if you search through my blog you will find a more detailed write-up. But this film is great on so many levels. This film gives us a look into what Christmas was like in the mid-’40s. Somethings may have changed, but some things have stayed the same. The synopsis is A food writer Elizabeth Lane (Barbara Stanwyck) who has lied about being the perfect housewife must try to cover her deception when her boss (Sydney Greenstreet) and a returning war hero (Dennis Morgan) invite themselves to her home for a traditional family Christmas.

6. The Man Who Came to Dinner-1942: imagine its weeks before Christmas and you have your favorite radio personality coming to dinner at your house. He slips and hurts his hip, and cannot travel until after Christmas. Well, this is what happens in this film. Sheridan Whiteside takes up house and runs the show for the duration of the film until his personal secretary gives him a run for his money.

*Fun Facts about films 5 & 6 cast Fun facts about the cast, most of the actors have all acted previously together in other films. Sydney Greenstreet and S.Z. Sakall was in Casablanca in 1942 with Claude Raines and Paul Henreid who both were in Now Voyager 1942 with Bette Davis who was in The Man Who Came to Dinner 1942 with Reginald Gardiner who played John Sloan who is Elizabeth’s love interest in Christmas in Connecticut.*

7. Love Actually-2003: a great British comedy. This film follows the lives of eight very different couples in dealing with their love lives in various loosely interrelated tales all set during the month before Christmas in London. The

8.Rudolph the Red-Nose Reindeer-1964: this is a Christmas classic for young and old. We all know the songs and who Burl Ives is.

9. Charlie Brown Christmas-1965: Another classic for those young and old. At times we all feel lost and we all want to find the true meaning of Christmas. I am sure most of us continue to watch this multiple times through the Christmas season as I do.

10. Polar Express-2004: It happens, heck to some of us it happened way too early. We stopped believing in Christmas.

11. The Bishop’s Wife-1947: Again if you search through my blog you will find a more detailed write-up. This film stars Loretta Young, Cary Grant, and David Niven. Julia Brougham (Young) is a woman of great strength, who longs for the days she can spend with her husband Bishop Henry Brougham (Niven). The Bishop is so bogged down with financial woes because of building a new Cathedral, in the beginning, he feels his wife doesn’t support him and that causes a strain on their relationship. Dudley (Grant) is an angel who is sent in human form to help both Julia and the Bishop. Without giving too much away, Dudley doesn’t cause trouble, but the Bishop doesn’t quite understand what Dudley is doing and what caused him to show up. This film definitely gives me the heartwarming feeling of the holidays. It’s a film that you can curl up on the couch with a cup of cocoa, and blanket while watching or curl up on the couch with a glass of red wine and blanket like me.

12. A Christmas Story- 1983: let’s face it we all wanted that one thing that is equivalent to the Red Rider BB Gun. It’s just a fun movie.

13. National Lampoons Christmas Vacation-1989: This is another film that comes with a little tradition as well. My father had me watch this film for the first time when I was like 12. This film takes the idea of family coming in for Christmas and puts a complete 360-degree spin on it. Everything that could go wrong does.

14. Elf-2003: Whimsical films are always welcome. Deep down we are all a little kid on the inside

15. Scrooged-1988: there are a lot of adaptations and remakes of a Christmas Carol out there. Scrooged is the most comical version I have seen. A selfish, cynical television executive is haunted by three spirits bearing lessons on Christmas Eve.

16. Meet Me in St.Louis-1944: Again if you search through my blog you will find a more detailed write-up. Some people consider this a Christmas movie because of Judy Garland’s rendition of “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas.” She sings to Margaret O’Brien at night time on Christmas Eve and it makes Margaret and the rest of us think of better days ahead.

17. Holiday Inn-1942: A great musical starring Bing Crosby and Fred Astaire. At an inn which is only open on holidays, a singer and a dance vie for the affections of a beautiful new performer. This film also marks the first appearance of the song White Christmas sung by Bing Crosby.

18.Home Alone-1990: This film has always been a childhood favorite of mine. I remember when my brother and I got it on VHS and we immediately watched it. An 8-year-old boy must protect his house from a pair of burglars when he is accidentally left home alone by family during Christmas Vacation. This film has always been a favorite of mine and I am sure it will be in film rotation soon.

19. It Happened on Fifth Avenue-1947: this is a heartwarming film that still holds up today. It provides a look at the class systems in the ’40s through the eyes of the rich and the poor. A homeless New Yorker moves into a mansion and along the way, he gathers friends to live in the house with him. Before he knows it, he is living with the actual homeowners.

20. Jingle All The Way-1996: Like Home Alone, this is another childhood classic. I first watched this film when I was younger at my babysitter's house. A father vows to get his son a Turbo Man action figure for Christmas. However, every store is sold out of them. He must travel all over town and compete with everybody else in order to find one.

Honorable Mention:

As you have already read this list is quite extensive I couldn’t list all the films. However, here is a couple for those in-between times where the film may not be on tv or you may have gotten overruled when using the main tv. So here they are.

1. The Santa Claus Movies (1,2,3) 1994, 2002, 2006: I think a lot of people underestimate these films or forget these films do fill the holiday spirit.

2. Santa Claus is Coming to Town-1970: We all need to reminded of the story of Santa Claus as told by Fred Astaire.

3. Holiday Affair-1949: We all need a little Christmas romance starring Janet Leigh and Robert Mitchum. A young widow is romanced by a sales clerk who she inadvertently got fired.

#oldmovies ChristmasClassics Classics thattimeofyear

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subasekabang · 5 years

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Long Dream –Live Remix– (A Side)

Title: Long Dream –Live Remix– (A Side)

Rating: T

Word Count: 7598 total, 3758 this chapter

Characters: Coco, Joshua, Neku, Beat, OMC, OFC

Warnings: Major character death

Summary: Her Magnum Opus nears completion, and as her audience approaches, she hurriedly arranges one final rehearsal. Elaboration on a pet theory of mine, built out of Final Remix spoilers.

Every day streets are crowded with people

Every night streets are jammed with these noises

Things are so strange, are they real or a dream?

Where am I now, trapped in this city of illusion?

***

Neku surveyed his surroundings. It didn’t take him long to recognize them.

“This is Cat Street…”

“Yo, finally!” Beat said, running a few steps ahead. “We can get outta Shibuya from here! I’m so ready to be done with this crappy Game!”

Neku looked up the street, murmuring, “Unless the way ahead has been rearranged too…”

He tensed a bit as Coco stepped up behind him, the tiny Reaper saying, “No worries fam! See, the way ahead looks, like, totez clear! That super tough wall you guys just made it past must’ve been the last challenge!”

Neku’s eyes caught on the café just ahead. Even in this situation, it still sparked a very complicated emotion in his heart.

“Yo, whatchu waitin’ for,” Beat said, “an engaged invitation? Le’s go, man!”

Beat took off. Neku followed at a slower pace, saying, “Hold on! While we’re here, shouldn’t we ask Mr. H what’s going on?”

The other boy skidded to a halt. “Huh? You think the H-Man’s gonna tell us anything?”

“He might. We have time to spare—it can’t hurt to ask.”

Coco made a face as she walked up next to him. “Uuuuh, source? That guy, like, oozes bad vibes. You should totez just finish the Game! That’s all that matters, yeah?”

Neku shook his head. “I still want to know what’s going on. Out of the people who might actually know, Mr. H is the only one with an address. We might not get another chance.”

The Reaper rolled her eyes and shrugged. “I mean, I guess, but like, why risk it? The finish line is literally right in front of y’all—just cross it and end the Game. Then if you still wanna talk to Coffee Weirdo, just walk right back in and do it then! It’ll totez be less stressful once we’re off the clock!”

Beat nodded. “Yeah, man! We gotta get this over with either way. Plus we might get an explanation jus’ for winnin’! We’ll keep the H-Man as a back-up plan, aight?”

Neku crossed his arms. “I still feel like this would be less risky.”

“Aw c’mon!” Coco said, skipping down the sidewalk. “You srsly need to chill, Neku! Let’s just finish the Game already. Besidez…while we stand here chatting, the other Players are still fighting Noise and stuff. Like, uh, Shiki? Do it for her!”

“Right: Shiki and Rhyme is still out there, Phones!” Beat said. “We gotta end the Game now!”

With a sigh, Neku grumbled, “…Alright, I guess we shouldn’t keep them waiting. But soon as we’re done, I’m coming back to get answers.”

The three of them ran down Cat Street, with Coco trailing farther and farther behind. Eventually she came to a stop, and just watched the boys continue with a wide grin on her face.

“Ugh, finally,” she said to herself. “This pair was WAY more stubborn than the last, 7.8/10 too much effort.”

Neku noticed they had lost her just as he and Beat ran over the city limits. The next thing he noticed was pain. Intense, searing pain, like his entire body was on fire. Judging by the way Beat had toppled over on the ground, the same thing was happening to him. Neku fell to his knees as the agony worsened.

“What’s…happening…?!”

Coco slowly approached them, taking care to not actually cross the limits. “This is fine! All according to keikaku. Congratz on winning the Reaper’s Game: Expert Mode! Oh btw, keikaku means plan.”

Beat cried out suddenly. Black and red flames consumed him, burning brightly for a few seconds before vanishing, leaving not even ashes in their wake. Neku’s eyes widened in horror.

“What did you do to him?!” Neku demanded.

“Erased him, duh,” Coco said. “Though technically wasn’t me, actually my baby that did it.”

“What?!”

“He needs loads of food to grow up big and strong. I’ve tried, like, a gazillion different things, and the Soul of super tough Players like you two is what works the best by far! ty so much!”

The pain only grew. Neku screamed, doing all he could to endure it despite knowing he was failing.

Coco put a hand to her ear. “Mmmm whatcha say? Couldn’t make that out.”

It wasn’t long before the flames consumed Neku as well, and then he too was gone. Coco put her hands on her hips and smiled. The world around her shifted, wavering like a mirage until it all melted into one swirling void of bluish clouds. Before her spawned a massive creature: a tapir with purple skin and six tusks, yellow tattoo-like protrusions in the shape of flames erupting all across its form. Its red eyes focused squarely on Coco.

“Yay! Look at you, you absolute unit! You’re, like, so strong now you could body anyone!”

Coco threw herself onto the tapir’s trunk, hugging it tightly—the creature gave a guttural rumble in response. She could sense its power increasing, and giggled happily as she took a step back. The tapir lowered its head and nudged her gently.

“Okay, okay.”

Reaching up, she scratched the tapir’s trunk. It tilted its head and squeaked.

“Aw, who’s a good boy?”

Coco hopped up to the top of its head, lying down so she could reach far enough to scratch behind its ear. The tapir lifted its trunk and trumpeted happily, then floated up and down in place, jostling Coco only the smallest amount.

“Haha, very good, such cute, wow!”

Soon it settled down. Coco propped up her head with one hand, continuing to slowly pet the tapir with the other, and let out a long sigh.

“Tapez my dude, I’m, like, so glad I have you. ngl you’re kinda my bff.”

The tapir grunted, swinging its trunk slightly. Coco swayed along.

“I dunno when it’s going down…but I’mma make sure you get through it. You’re one of my peeps too now! So it’s a legit promise!”

Coco extended her pinky. The tapir inclined its head a little and flexed its claws.

“Oooooh right. Well, still totez binding lol.”

She pressed her face against the tapir’s skin, letting her eyes close.

“Aaaaaah, we’re almost there, Tapez. Should just need, like, another few rounds and you’ll be a prime example of the ideal Noise body! Though tbh if the next pair is as annoying as this one, totez just gonna yeet them straight into your stomach.”

Her phone chimed. She opened one eye to look at the screen, and then rolled onto her back and groaned loudly, kicking her legs about in frustration.

“Uuuugh for real? Fine, whatevs.” She paused to pet the tapir one more time. “Sorry Tapez, I gotta bounce. brb and then we’ll go find you some more treats!”

The tapir squeaked a farewell, and then Coco stood up and shut her eyes again. Focusing her power, she elevated her Vibe and reached out with her mind to feel for the world she wanted to travel to; after so many times, it was easy for her, and in mere seconds she had concrete beneath her feet. Opening her eyes, Coco looked up at the skyline of Shinjuku and smiled brightly.

I love my city tbh.

***

Feel the people, hear the voices

They are reaching out to catch you

Feel the rhythms, hear the noises

You are beating all the visions

***

Coco moved through the city at a slow pace. Shinjuku was a travel hub, a place that was purely transient for most: each moment was fleeting, but each brought something new, something different, and that everlasting tumultuous tide of life fascinated Coco in a way nothing ever had before. Each second was something wholly unique, and she never wanted to miss even one of them. She spun around on a corner, taking it all in, and just laughed to herself.

“Having fun, Atarashi?”

Her good mood was spoiled instantly. She grimaced over her shoulder to see Joshua standing there, looking every bit as smug as she remembered him.

“fml what are you even doing here Kiryu?” she asked, turning around and crossing her arms in a huff. “Can’t you, like, take a hint?”

“Nice to see you too.” He raised a hand to his chin. “Hm. I’m curious: why is it you hold onto your wings even in the RG?”

Gesturing to them, Coco said, “Aesthetic.”

“…And what aesthetic would that be, exactly?”

“fyi I’m headed to a super important meeting rn so unless you’re finally ready to fite me irl then I, like, don’t even want to hear it.”

Joshua chuckled and brushed aside a lock of hair, which only made him seem even more smug and made Coco even angrier. “Stimulating as that has the potential to be, we’d both be in quite a bit of trouble with the folks upstairs if we were to have a skirmish.”

“Oooooh good point,” she said as she turned away. “And I bet you’re, like, already in hot water after the way you went off.”

“Nothing to worry about on that front. I’ve spoken with my Producer and he assures me the matter has been put to bed. Things in Shibuya will be staying the way they are.”

Coco spun around. “WTF?! You two are out of trouble just like that? I literally have no words!”

“Hm? Why, I would assume your Producer has been apprised of the details as well. Has he not passed them along to you yet?”

There was a short delay, and then Coco glanced aside and grumbled, “That must be why he sent me that txt…”

“I take it you’ve been too busy with your side project to stay on top of the paperwork.”

Coco locked eyes with Joshua. He was still smug, that would never change, but now there was a deadly undercurrent to his words that demanded Coco’s attention.

“tf are you even talking about?” Coco asked. “You really need to stay in your lane, Kiryu.”

“That’s rich, coming from you.”

“Explain.”

“Well for starters, I know you’ve been poking around my city.”

“omg! Tourism is a crime now?”

“Considering our circumstances I believe it falls more under ‘corporate espionage’.”

“It’s totez hilair to me that you consider the UG a corporation.”

“Setting that aside for the moment, there’s also the fact that you’ve been shirking your duties as Composer to jaunt off to an alarming number of parallel worlds as of late.”

Coco smirked. “Aw, u just jelly I can travel between worlds without needing to call an Uber to get back.”

Joshua shrugged. “I admit, it’s a skill I’ve yet to master—even my alternate selves seem to have difficulty with it. One came to call on me recently, you know. Said something about a bizarre Noise erasing two former Players in his world.”

Yawning loudly, Coco said, “Kiryu can I, like, get a tl;dr?”

Joshua’s face began to darken, the undercurrent gradually rising towards the surface. “Well Atarashi, it certainly sounds like you’ve been attacking alternate Shibuyas. If so, that’s something I believe qualifies as ‘in my lane’. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Coco cackled. “Pffft omg are u srs? I am DECEASED y’all, the guy who just tried to wipe his whole city is acting protective up in this bitch! lmaoooooo!”

Joshua stared hard at her. “Coco, do think for a moment: how do you suppose the Higher Plane would react to this news?”

“What, are you, like, planning to tell them? If you’ve got some proof then hmu.”

Joshua didn’t answer.

“lol that’s what I thought, smdh you better sit down Kiryu. Even if I were, like, messing with parallel worlds or whatevs, why would the Higher Plane even care? Angels from this world have no jurisdiction there. It’s free real estate.”

Slowly, Joshua nodded. “…Alright. Perhaps you have a point. Let’s leave the Higher Plane out of this hypothetical. The only one you need to be concerned with…is me.”

The air suddenly felt very heavy. Coco actually needed to remind herself to breathe, but she made sure her reaction wasn’t obvious.

“So, Atarashi. Explain to me why you’ve been killing Neku in so many parallel worlds. And, do try your best to make it a very good explanation.”

Coco brought her hands up to her face, twisting slightly away. “lololol I’m confused. Mad cuz I beat your record? Or want to make sure I don’t off this world’s copy of Edge Head before you can tell him he’s worthy of your grace? Honestly? I ship it.”

Joshua paused. “Neku himself isn’t the issue here. But if you’re making a move into my territory—“

“Yeah yeah yeah, cuz you care, like, SO much about your territory! I am SHOOK seeing you come in here acting like the authority on protecting your peeps! I could learn so much about my job from watching you!”

“I’m feeling a bit of déjà vu. I could have sworn I’ve already told you that a Composer’s job is simply to judge their people, and that it is only the existence and boundaries of their respective UG that require protection.”

Coco covered her mouth. “omg! Why would you say something so controversial yet so brave?” She dropped her hands and stuck out her tongue. “jk obv you’re full of it.”

“I don’t see why I should need to divulge my motivations to you of all people,” Joshua mumbled, “but if you must know…I was under the impression that Shibuya was not worth keeping around. Now that I’ve seen it still holds potential, I of course have every intention of preserving the seeds that I’ve sown.”

Coco scowled at him, but didn’t speak at first. Nearly a minute passed before she said, “Then tbh? I’m not your enemy.”

Joshua’s eyebrows went up.

“It’s, like, only a matter of time before a new kind of Game starts up Kiryu. Their Game. And I’m gonna be mad prepared when it does. If you had literally a single brain cell you’d totez be doing the same thing.”

By the time she was done, Joshua’s eyes had narrowed down to a suspicious glare. “Surely you’re not referring to the party I’m assuming?”

“Like, who else?”

Joshua stared down his nose at Coco as he considered his next move. Coco grunted, drew out her phone, and checked her messages.

“My, you truly are impossible to figure out,” Joshua sighed.

Coco gave her best Clearly Fake Smile and replied, “Because you’re an expert at that lol. I’m nothing compared to your galaxy brain.”

“I think I could do it if not for that absurd…shall we call it a dialect?”

“Uh, this is how people talk now? Hello? If you knew anything about people, then like, you’d already know that, but as always you have 0 friends so buh-bye.”

“…Hm. And, exactly how many friends do you have, Atarashi?”

Coco frowned.

Joshua turned. “But, alright. If this is some plan to deal with the Inferno, then I’ll drop the matter for now. But, one thing I’d like to make clear before I go.” He took one last glance back at her, eyes full of ice. “I will not tolerate any interference in this world’s Shibuya.”

He was off without another word. Coco suppressed the urge to shudder, turning back to her phone and mumbling half-formed syllables as she made herself look busy. She looked back up to be sure that he was gone, and then sighed and tucked her phone away, gazing over Shinjuku once more as she waited for the tension to leave her body. It was immediately replaced by joy.

“omg whoops. Rōjin is totez still waiting orz.”

***

Is it angels? Is it devils?

Whispering in my ears

Is it emotions? Is it illusions?

I need to be with you

***

Coco poked her head through the shrine’s gate. Looking up the path, she could see a bald, tan-skinned man with a stoic face sitting at the building’s entrance, his eyes already locked onto her. She flinched.

“Uuuuh what’s up gamers?” she blurted as she stumbled forward. “I know I’m, like, totez late, but I have a tru legit reason for it, get a load of this!”

The man was Seiji Rōjin, owner of the shrine and also Shinjuku’s Producer. He offered not a single word as Coco hurriedly explained her encounter with Joshua to him. When she was done, he nodded and closed his eyes; Coco looked around awkwardly for a few seconds, and then took a seat next to him.

“You must leave your Opus be,” he ultimately said.

Coco started. “Uh, excuse me? Abandon all my hard work just because that nerd doesn’t want me near his bf? I think the heck not!”

Rōjin opened his eyes to look at her.

“…Um? Something else?��

“The Higher Plane demands a Game.”

Coco blinked. Then she rolled back, digging her fingers into her scalp and shouting, “AAAAAAARGH, srsly?! I know I haven’t held a Game in, like, forev, but can’t they just let me handle thingz down here? Please say sike!”

Rōjin said nothing. As she accepted the reality of the situation, Coco’s heart sank.

“But…Tapez…” She groaned. “…Is, like, a teeny bit of faith in me too much to ask? They know I’ve got mad skillz! When you taught me how to make Tapez, you said I was one of only, like, three Composers whomst’ve ever been able to control Magnum Opus Noise—they should be totez impressed with me already!”

“The Higher Plane demands more of your position than mere talent,” Rōjin said. “It demands discipline.”

Coco pulled herself back into a sitting position. “I am, like, sooo disciplined! I legit wanted to tear Kiryu’s face off, but I didn’t!” She got back on her feet as she went on, “Like, sure, this is about Shinjuku, but the whole reason I’m working on Tapez is so he can protect my peeps! Making sure he’s bad enough to dunk on anyone is literally The Best Thing I can be doing rn! The Inferno is out there, you know, somewhere, and we dunno when they’re gonna throw hands! And now I have to take time out of my counterattack schedule to run some basic-ass Game?”

She whirled back to face Rōjin. He didn’t say anything. Coco stared at him for a few moments, realizing she was getting a headache.

“…heck. We don’t really have much of a choice, do we? If the Higher Plane wants a Game so bad, then like, we gotta pull together a Game. Tapez will just have to chill for a week I guess.”

Coco put a hand to her head as she trudged past Rōjin for the door.

“Ugh, lemme see, the Conductor obvs needs to show, and we should probably @ all the Officers too. idk who’s gonna be the GM this week but they—“

The pain in her head suddenly turned sharp. She paused mid-step.

“…they…”

Her vision blurred, then went dark. And then she saw Shinjuku again, but it was…different, somehow. As if viewed through some sort of filter. She saw the streets, the people, and then a glowing red symbol up in the sky—and then the streets were empty. Not a single soul was left in Shinjuku. No, not quite, next she saw one person: a girl who slowly walked forward with a blank look in her eyes. The girl stared straight ahead, but couldn’t see Coco. Still, she opened her mouth to speak.

“All that’s left in the world is me.”

Coco gasped as the shrine came back into focus. At first she was too surprised to make any sense of the event. But as she breathed, she processed it, and her eyes shot wide as pure dread came over her.

“Uh…a-ah…I…”

Rōjin stood, watching her with furrowed brow. Coco’s entire body shook as she turned to face him.

“I…I saw it again…!”

She jumped forward and grabbed Rōjin’s shirt.

“It was the same vision! You remember, right? From, like, WAY back when I first asked you about Magnum Opus Noise? I saw it again! Shinjuku was erased—it was an Inversion! I-I…” She looked down as tears started to form in her eyes. “I haven’t seen anything since that day…why now? Is…is the Inferno about to attack Shinjuku? Is that what this means?! Are we out of time?!”

She felt a hand on her head. Looking up, she saw Rōjin staring back at her, his face as calm and stoic as ever. Coco swallowed hard, and then exhaled slowly.

“R-Right…right.” She managed a chuckle. “Like, look at me, crying in the club like a little bitch! Thanks bunchez, Rōjin.”

She stepped away and wiped her eyes on her sleeve. Coco found herself looking up at the sky, as if to verify what she had seen hadn’t actually come true…at least, not yet. The same skyline greeted her. But this time, she just couldn’t feel happy about it. This time, it made her feel resolute. She turned back to Rōjin.

“Sorry fam. But I, like, can’t just sit on my ass and play a Game rn. The Higher Plane might not be convinced, but I just know the Inferno’s on their way to end my whole career, and I’m not about to take that.”

Rōjin paused. Then, with a single nod, he said, “Mood.”

Coco giggled. “omg, you’re, like, literally the worst!”

She left the shrine and made her way back up the street, thinking, Dunno how much more time I have to beef up Tapez. My boi’s totez strong, but I can’t be too careful, and probs don’t have much time for last minute boosts. I need to, like, think of how else I can improve his chances…

Her feet slowed, and she looked back at the shrine.

…Hm. I wonder what she would think?

Coco crossed her arms.

I mean, she’s gonna be totez disappointed there’s no Game. But like, she’s still my Conductor, yeah? If I can’t trust her to back me up, then who can I trust?

She turned and got moving again.

At the v least I gotta ask. Whatever it takes…my Shinjuku is going to survive.

***

Every day noises are killing these people

Every night noises are waiting for me but

Don’t run away, we’ve got no time left to fear

Where are you now, still it’s showing me illusions

#TWEWY #TWEWY Bang 2019 #The World Ends With You #Subarashiki Kono Sekai #World Ends With You #fanfic #submission

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worryinglyinnocent · 5 years

Text

Fic: Out of Time (1/?)

It’s here at last! @ripperblackstaff, @woodelf68, @everyone else who wanted to see it. Thanks for your voracious support, guys, and I hope you enjoy!

Summary: Belle is the one to be sucked into Zelena’s time portal with Emma, and they find themselves in a very different time to the one they had anticipated, arriving to see the confrontation between Hook and a pre-Dark One Rumpelstiltskin. They manage to return to the future, but with some unintentional stowaways. With Rumpelstiltskin removed from his own timeline, the universe throws a fit, and it’s a race against time to set things straight.

Rated: T for now, but it will go up in later chapters.

====

Out of Time

One

Belle took a deep breath and pushed open the door to the sheriff’s station. She didn’t want to be the harbinger of bad tidings, especially when everyone was getting ready to celebrate new life and new hope.

All the same, something about Zelena’s disappearance just didn’t sit right with her, and far be it from her to sweep something under the carpet and pretend that everything was ok when potentially the entire town was at risk. If Zelena was going to come back at the eleventh hour and cause havoc, then she wanted to be prepared.

As she entered, Belle found that Emma was looking just as despondent as she felt herself.

“Not in the party spirit either, huh?”

Emma looked up guiltily. “Oh. Erm. Hi, Belle.”

“It’s ok, you don’t need to pretend to be happy on my account.”

“I’m glad I’m not the only one who can’t seem to muster up any enthusiasm about the whole thing.” Emma let out a long sigh and waved Belle over to the desk. “So, what’s eating you? I doubt it’s the same thing that’s eating me.”

“It’s Zelena.” Belle leaned against the desk, grimacing as Emma groaned at the mention of the witch. “I know, I know, I want to forget all about her too, but I just can’t. There’s something about her demise that seems too convenient, you know? Even if she did self-destruct like on the video, what happened to her… remains? She must have left some trace behind, but there’s nothing. What if this is just another way for her to cause trouble? Make us think she’s gone for good and then pop up just when we thought we were finally rid of her.”

“I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about it myself.” Emma gave a huff of dry laughter. “Your worries are way more valid than mine at the moment; I feel stupid in comparison.”

“I don’t know, everyone has different priorities. What have you been thinking about?”

“It’s this baby. I know that the circumstances can’t be helped, and I know that Mom and Dad went through just as much trauma with this one as they did with me, but that doesn’t stop me being jealous that my brother gets to grow up with both his loving parents and I didn’t. I don’t think it’s even jealousy, really. Now that he’s here I just don’t understand my place in this world anymore. I had a life in New York, and it was really good, even if it wasn’t real. And now Neal’s gone, and I just think that maybe it would be better if I went back and bowed out.” She sighed. “Like I said, compared to fears of wicked witches rising from the grave, it’s fairly petty, but I can’t help it.”

“I think it’s perfectly valid for you to have mixed feelings about the whole thing. These are very strange times that we’ve found ourselves in, and we have to make the best of it. All the same, I think that your parents would be devastated if you were to leave Storybrooke. They still love you and care for you, but naturally they’re going to show it in a different way to you than they show it to the baby.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I can feed and dress myself and articulate my feelings, for one. I guess that we’ve been separated so many times that it feels normal to anticipate another separation. I don’t want it, and I know that they don’t want it either, but sometimes we don’t get what we want.”

“Maybe you need to think about it in a different way. If we hadn’t all had to go back to the Enchanted Forest and you hadn’t had to go to New York, you would have stayed in Storybrooke, and put roots down here, and this second pregnancy would probably have happened anyway. You wouldn’t have left then, because you would have had the time to get used to it.”

Emma nodded. “Yeah, even back in Neverland, Mom was saying that she wanted to have another baby. I guess it was kind of inevitable. It’s just going to take time to get to grips with the idea of having a sibling thirty years my junior. We have a weird family tree.”

“I can’t argue with you there, but then my fiancé’s over three hundred years old so I don’t think I have a leg to stand on.”

“Fiancé, huh?” Emma grinned. “When did that happen?”

“Last night. I guess that’s why I’m so worried about Zelena.”

“Yes, right, we were talking about the possibility of more calamitous happenings, not bemoaning my state of adult childhood.”

“It’s ok, I can tell that you really needed to get it off your chest. I don’t know if I’m qualified to give advice, but I hope I’ve helped in some way.”

“Yes, I think you have. It’s good to talk to someone about it. I didn’t really feel like I could go to anyone else about it because it just felt mean when everyone’s so relieved that the little one’s ok. I hope they name him soon; I can’t keep calling him Little Brother.”

Belle failed to hold back a laugh, and Emma joined her in giggles.

“Anyway, how’s Gold holding up?” she asked once composure had returned.

“All right, I think. I don’t know. He doesn’t want to talk about it, which makes me think that he probably should talk about it, but it’s not my place to force him to confront these things if he doesn’t feel up to it yet. I just want to make sure that he’s safe.”

“I know that feeling. I’m just not sure what we can do about it. Coming to think of it, it would probably be a good idea to grab Zelena’s pendant from the barn. I can’t believe that I forgot to pick it up. Of all the things that might prove useful if she was trying to return, the source of all her power is probably up there on the list.”

“That sounds like a plan.”

Belle followed Emma out of the station towards the yellow bug, and Emma paused before unlocking it.

“Are you sure that you want to come along?” she said. “If Zelena is up to her tricks again, then…”

“Then I would very much like to be there to smack her round the face,” Belle said. Emma’s eyes widened at her words and she opened the passenger door, gesturing for Belle to get in.

“You know, over the last few days I’ve really learned to appreciate your gumption,” she said. “I guess because you weren’t around during the curse and I never really got the chance to get to know you afterwards, I tend to think of you and Rumpel as a pair.”

“A lot of people make that mistake.” Belle sighed. “I am my own person, I always have been, and I’m so sick of everyone measuring my worth in relation to me being with Rumpel. I’m not a person to them, I’m just a pawn that they can use to get back at him. Why do you think I was locked up under the hospital throughout the first curse? It wasn’t anything I’d done to warrant that, oh no. Regina just wanted to make sure she had a bargaining chip in case she ever needed to get one over on Rumpel.”

“I’m sorry, Belle. I really am.”

“It’s all right. It’s not as if you knew I was down there.”

“Yeah, but if I had then I would have tried to get you out.”

Belle smiled. “I know you would. That’s why you’re the saviour.”

“Please don’t call me that. I don’t feel particularly saviour-like at the moment. Not even my normal superpowers are working at the moment. I can’t help feeling like all this can be traced back to Greg. If I’d known straight away that he was lying and here for nefarious purposes, then we never would have gone to Neverland, never would have accidentally unleashed Pan on the town; you guys would never have gone back to the Enchanted Forest, and we could have avoided all this pain and heartbreak.”

“It’s not your fault, Emma. Things are just miserable sometimes. Even now, when we ought to be happy that everything’s over, neither of us really are.”

It was strange to be having this conversation with Emma. They had never really interacted before outside of Emma needing Belle’s expertise for something, and it was nice to get to know each other as people, with no hidden agenda in the background waiting to strike. Belle was about to make some comment to keep the chatter flowing, but before she could do so, they had rounded the corner that brought them onto the barn road, and the words died in her throat.

“Well, that certainly does not look good.” Emma glanced over at Belle and then looked back through the windscreen at the pillar of raw magic that was shooting out of the top of the barn. It was the colour of flame, swirling like molten lava, and Belle knew that whatever type of spell it was, it was something incredibly powerful. She had never paid all that much attention when Rumpel had been brewing potions and inventing spells up in his laboratory; she was interested in the magic that he allowed her to see but had learned not to question the secretive things.

If this was related to Zelena’s attempt to break the laws of magic and turn back time, then it was something that no magician had ever attempted to control before.

Emma continued up the lane towards the barn a little way until the bug’s engine gave out with a splutter.

“Magic and technology don’t mix,” Belle said. “Rumpel’s warned me about it before. The stronger the spell, the more widespread and potent its affects.”

They got out of the car and made their way towards the barn on foot. As they got closer, the roar of the magic grew louder and louder until they had to shout to make themselves heard over the din.

“Ok, whatever this is, I really think that we’re going to need back-up!” Emma yelled. “How are you supposed to switch this thing off? Belle, I really think that you ought to wait in the car.”

“And let you be blown to smithereens by whatever this is? Not likely!”

Emma wrenched the barn door open and was almost blown away by the force of the magic that was spiralling inside. Holding on tight to the frame, she peered inside. Belle followed her lead.

The spell was coming from a circle marked out in the dirt floor, with four points facing along compass lines. There in the centre, fuelling the magic, was Zelena’s pendant.

“I knew it was too good to be true!” Emma groaned. “Why does this always happen just when we think that everything’s solved?”

“Magic’s a law unto itself. If that’s what I think it is, then we want to get as far away from it as possible.”

“Yeah, I don’t exactly feel very safe here,” Emma agreed. “It looks like a bean portal but going up instead of down.”

“It’s a portal through time and space, rather than just space,” Belle explained. “Come on, let’s get out of here before something happens. It looks really unstable. Maybe if we leave it alone it might burn itself out.”

“Yeah, I have a whole new appreciation of your proxy knowledge of magic now.”

Emma let go of the doorframe and took a step away, back towards the car, and in that moment, time seemed to slow down to a crawl. Emma was moving away, and a tendril of lava-like magic pulsed out from the portal, snaking itself around her ankle. The portal was not going to stop until someone had gone through it.

“Belle!”

Belle grabbed Emma’s hand, but the force of the portal was too much for the both of them, and she felt herself being ripped away from the door where she was holding on for dear life. Her fingers could take no more, and she let go.

But she did not let go of Emma. Whatever might befall them at the other end of this journey, she wasn’t going to leave Emma to go through it alone, and Belle clung to her hand as they were both pulled into the swirling golden vortex and shot into the past.

#rumbelle fic #Belle French #Emma Swan #Emma&Belle Friendship #S3 AU #AU #canon divergence #Fic: Out of Time

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lon3lynation · 5 years

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Chapter 4: Road Regrets

Previous Chapter

"We drive until the gas is gone And then walk until our feet are torn Crawl until we feed the soil Film the whole thing

It's all business in the left-hand lane Drive there and then drive back again Escape can't be the only way to escape

So I've gotten used to coffee sweats Still getting used to road regrets And hell I took you up on all your threats to leave"

Road Regrets by Dan Mangan.

Visiting Maymont and its 100 acres the day before had been an engaging experience. Touring the elaborate Mansion had taught her the history of the estate and of the Gilded Age era. Lexa tried but failed to envision herself living in such a lavish home during the early 1900s. If she had lived during those times, she'd bet that she possibly would have been institutionalized for loving the fairer sex and daring to fight for equal rights. Morbidly enough, she could picture herself in a mental asylum, a guinea pig for the barbaric experiments to 'cure' her but only succeeding in breaking her mind. If her imagined alternate lives paralleled her own, then the pain was to be a recurring theme.

What a tortured soul.

Lexa laughed.

If Anya was around, she would tell her to stop acting like such a pathetic masochist and to be more present. It was something she had been unable to kick. Her mind often wandered to her past, the pain never-ending as she visited old memories, both good and bad. It was difficult to forgive or forget after it had drastically impacted the life she once knew and irrevocably transformed the person she was.

Melancholy had become an old friend of hers and she didn't know how to let go.

It was always lurking around but she was grateful that it didn't stop her from feeling other things alongside it.

Admiring the garden's' vibrant flowers and rushing streams had left her with the feeling of contentment. It had her looking at her surroundings more closely and reflective of how things could appear differently to others.

Her favorite moment occurred when she came across one of the black bears that were on the grounds. There had been an older couple, a man and a woman, taking a photo of the wild bear from a distance. She chose to stand next to them to observe the black bear pacing and how her appearance didn't escape its attention when the animal briefly paused to look at her.

"Oh, I can't help but feel nervous when he stops and stares at us," the older woman had said aloud. Lexa simply hummed in response before clasping her hands behind her back.

She didn't shy away from gazing at the bear. She admired the thick dark fur, deep brown eyes, its lumbering gait and how he eyed her in return. Before long, the older couple were taking several steps away from her when the bear began closing the distance between them.

Lexa stayed where she was, hands still behind her back, eyes alert on the approaching bear. It sniffed the air and grunted when he got a few feet away from her.

She knew the nervous couple behind her thought the bear was likely stalking her but she believed differently. There was a shared curiosity between them.

In time, the black bear simply plopped down on its bottom, curiosity finally sated and focused its attention on eating the berries off the shrubs.

"How were you so calm during that?" the other woman questioned.

"We had a mutual understanding," Lexa had murmured, the curve of her lips raised in a subtle smile.

At the memory, Lexa found herself softly smiling yet again as she dug her fingers into the sand by her sides. Maymont had been yesterday. Now she was in Virginia Beach. She strolled the boardwalk, sampling from food vendors here and there, before finding herself longing to be closer to the water.

So, she sat on the beach, feeling the warm sand against skin and clothes. Only then did she realize that she desperately needed to go shopping for swimwear. Her overstuffed backpack could only hold so much and she had figured that whatever else she needed, she could get during her trip. A suitcase would be nice, too.

Deciding that she'll go shopping likely after traversing the Blue Ridge Parkway, Lexa reluctantly accepted she will have to deal with odd tan lines for the time being. Pulling her fingers out of the sand, she wipes them off before reaching into the pocket of her shorts for Clarke's cellphone.

When it flashed on, she scrolled through her previous exchange with Clarke after she finally made the decision to continue with the conversations.

'If you think I'm going to hit the acceptance stage, think again. As for your other text, there wasn't much imagining done once the idea you could be some big buff mean looking criminal who can convincingly disguise their voice came up.'

'Shame. Also a shame? How unattractive your mind suddenly made me. I can assure you those specifics are incorrect.' Lexa responded back, at the time feeling partly amused and a little bit offended.

'I feel so very assured. Perhaps I can be convinced if you tell me your name?'

'No.'

'You can't keep telling me no!'

'Yes, I can, Clarke.'

Lexa was quickly finding out she quite liked telling Clarke "no". It was oddly satisfying to frustrate the girl to the point where she was positive that Clarke was shouting curses at the screen. Anya wasn't one to get easily frustrated by her. The few times she did, it hadn't amused her because it left her feeling like a disappointment. It was nice to have someone to rile up and it not be taken too seriously. It was something she planned to do as often as she could. It was almost payback for being convinced to continue with the calls and letting Clarke falsely hope she could get her car back someday.

It truly didn't make any sense to her as to why the Jeep hadn't been reported stolen. Out of all the possible scenarios she thought of, it never occurred to her that the person she had stolen from would reach out to her. It made her a bit uncomfortable because never before was she forced to face her victims after robbing them. After the deed was done, she always made herself scarce, never seeing the unlucky victims again. Now she knew the victim's name of her latest crime and being confronted with what she had done.

But Clarke wasn't like any of her other victims, was she? After all, the others most likely would have gone to the police.

Clarke was an anomaly.

Lexa didn't know what to expect in her predicament with the other girl. She hadn't a clue what could happen tomorrow, next week, or the upcoming months. Things could happen, change or come to an end. There was no way of knowing what she'd get out of the calls with Clarke and how long it would last. For now, it lessened the chance of getting caught with a stolen car.

Good or bad, all Lexa knew was whatever may happen in the future, she couldn't deny the fact that she was intrigued by Clarke. They had only spoken a couple of times and the woman was already getting her to open up a little. Not necessarily with Clarke, but with herself.

She felt daring and playful to the point it could be almost taken as flirting. It had her acting in ways that reminded her of her younger self before all the hurt that happened to her. She thought those traits were long gone but she was slowly finding out that they were only buried and waiting to be rediscovered again. Perhaps there were still a few things left of the person she used to be.

She just needed to peel back the layers of scar tissue, ignore the pain, and reclaim what she missed about herself. It didn't all have to stay connected to her ancient wounds. She could find a place where it could be free of the scabs.

There was a lot of self-reflecting work to be done but that's exactly why she wanted this trip. It was a much-needed escape to finally take the time to look at herself and figure how to move past her history. It had been holding her hostage for too long.

Lexa was still very reluctant on facing those memories head-on in hopes that she could finally make peace with it. She wasn't quite ready to dredge it all back up. There were still infinite miles left for her to gather the courage to do so. It needn't be rushed or it'll only cause her to continue to run further away from herself and leave it festering.

She has done enough running for over 6 years. It was time to sort her shit out for good.

With a sigh, Lexa stood up from the sand and gazed at the blue ocean, noticing a few surfers waiting for the perfect wave. She had been so occupied with her own thoughts that she had barely noticed the others chatting and sunbathing around her.

It amused her thinking how teenage Lexa would be shocked that she turned into such a lone wolf with only her thoughts for company.

Lexa brushed away the sand sticking to her bare legs before unknotting the plaid long sleeves shirt from around her waist to shake out. Once free of sand, she retied it back around her before deciding it was time to go to her next destination.

Blue Ridge Parkway.

Back on the road again, she drove with the radio off and the windows down. It was refreshing to hear only the wind, the traction of tires on the road, and her own breathing. Noise has been a constant melody in her life since leaving home. Between sharing public buses with several talkative strangers and going unnoticed in crowds as she scoped out potential targets to pickpocket, she hadn't realized how much she had craved the quietness.

She was feeling lighter, free of tension, and finally beginning to feel what she believed was happiness poking at her well-guarded walls. It was time to let them form enough cracks to let it in and savor the feeling. It's been too long since she had felt truly joyous about life in general.

It was invigorating.

By the time Lexa arrived at the mountain ridge, she was ready to relish the winding roads and scenic views of the region. It would be a lengthy drive that could take days to complete but it was a journey she wanted to take. She wanted the new and memorable.

The accidentally stolen cell phone vibrated with new text messages as she spotted a visitor center. Keeping her eyes on the road, she opened the texts and glanced at them. They were from Clarke, of course.

'It's a new day which means more bugging the hell out of you to return the car to me, thief.'

'Come back to New York.'

'Don't you feel guilty yet? Do the right thing.'

Lexa shook her head in amusement before placing the phone down to respond to later. She parked near the center, deciding more information and a map was needed. She entered the building and was quickly offered a brochure of areas she could stop and see or stay the night along the Blue Ridge. In the back, it had small cropped maps but she wanted to be able to fully track how to experience the most of the ridge and where it would take her in the end.

Her inquiries eventually directed her to the gift shop. It was filled with all sorts of souvenirs with Blue Ridge Parkway in bold letters on them. The maps were in the corner and she quickly ripped the plastic to unroll the map. It showed the whole length of the mountain chain which was exactly what she needed.

After rerolling the map, Lexa came to a sudden stop a moment later when she realized that she was about to exit the shop without going to the cashier. It took another moment for her to process that she had sneakily hidden the map under her clothes without giving it much thought. It happened so effortlessly that she barely noticed what she had actually done.

She had felt the itch for a brief moment but ignored it because it wasn't needed in this situation. She had money to pay for it. It was just a map from a gift shop full of cheap souvenirs.

And yet her body still went through the motions to steal a stupid map.

Feeling slightly annoyed with herself, she smoothly pulled the map back out and made her way to the cashier to pay for it as she had originally planned.

Beyond ridiculous.

Lexa was back in Clarke's car with the map spread out across the steering wheel to see where her route would take her. However, her mind kept replaying what had almost happened earlier. It was kind of unsettling that stealing was something her body could now automatically do without much thought. It was just idiotic that it occurred inside a gift shop of all places.

She shouldn't have had felt the itch to steal in the first place.

It was only a few days ago that she had successfully stolen a car. The plan was to use the money she had saved up and that she would pickpocket some more cash once it was running low. That should have held her over for a while before craving the rush again. Maybe she needed to look back into joining an underground fighting ring to ease the excessive energy that was stirring within her. Obviously, due to her lifestyle, her body didn't know how to handle downtime.

Shaking her head, she reached for Clarke's phone to text the girl back. A distraction was needed.

'I feel entirely guilt-free, thank you. How much rejection do you think you can take all summer? Because I am not turning back around.'

Lexa smirked at Clarke's ongoing attempts to get her to return the car. She liked the woman's determination and wondered how long she could continue denying what Clarke wanted before she grew tired of it.

'Nice try, though.'

Looking back at the map, Lexa decided she'll drive Blue Ridge into North Carolina. She was content with the idea of enjoying the sights of the mountain scenery during her drive that would likely last more than a few days. There was no time limit set for her. Lexa could take in every moment without the weight of a large ticking clock on her shoulders.

Hearing the alert of two new text messages, she set aside the map for the phone.

'I see it'll take me a lot more to convince you. I don't think I appreciate how many miles you are going to put my car through.'

'Can you at least humor me and share a clue of your location or name? I'm going to get tired of thinking up synonyms for criminal.'

Lexa huffed out a small chuckle with a response at the ready to further toy with Clarke. Admittedly though, the idea of giving Clarke vague clues for her to obsess over seemed fun.

'Stranger danger!'

'Hey! That's my fucking line.'

'Calm down, Clarke.'

'Is being an asshole your default state?'

'Maybe.'

'I'm going to call you now.'

Lexa just managed to read the last text before the phone in her hand blared with an incoming call from Clarke.

"You know, you're keeping me from beginning a very nice long drive." She answered the phone after a slight hesitation when she suddenly felt nervous.

She pushed it aside.

"Hook up the Bluetooth then. It's in the glove compartment."

Lexa let out a quiet "oh" before placing the phone to her left ear to reach the glove compartment with her right hand. She pulled it out and begun to connect the Bluetooth as Clarke continued speaking.

"So, are you seriously not going to give me any clues?"

"I guess I could humor you for a minute," Lexa forced an exaggerated sigh. "It'll take me many miles but I'm sure the scenic views at this particular altitude will make it a memorable experience. I think I'll get views of the whole region. I'm looking forward to it."

Hearing Clarke trail off into a thoughtful hum, Lexa knew instantly she was trying to get an idea of where she was. She gave details, tiny ones, but rather generic enough as it still wasn't going to pinpoint what her location was to Clarke.

"Like scenic with trees and winding roads, oh, Raven asked if you are near a body of water?"

Lexa was positive she was hearing the sounds of someone typing away on a keyboard. She chuckled softly, pulling the wired earbud from the glove compartment and placing it on.

"I guess I'll find that out soon enough. Who is Raven?"

"Oh, um," the sound of typing paused before two hushed voices were heard. "Shit, sorry. She's a friend and now she thinks you're going to come murder us. I forbid that, by the way."

She started the engine after everything was connected, her excitement rising as she began her drive through the winding parkway.

"You forbid me?" she scoffed. "That'll definitely be enough to save you from certain death."

"Shut up."

"Is it a habit of yours to share your name and your friends' names with criminals? I'm pretty sure that should be discouraged."

She paused, hearing no defense coming from Clarke. She continued.

"I have your name, your car, and your phone. I bet I could easily find out where you live. What if I was more than a simple car thief? Someone that could come back to rob or hurt you and your friend without a single care."

Clarke doesn't waste a second to respond.

"But that's not you, is it?"

Lexa stopped breathing.

"What?''

"You may have learned a little about me but I've learned a bit about you too from our talk. I know that you didn't steal the car to make money off of it since you said you weren't going to have it taken apart and that you simply needed a car to drive to wherever you wanted to go. You could've easily said otherwise or nothing at all."

Clarke's confidence was growing.

"There's also the fact that before you abruptly ended our call, you actually sounded like a second away from saying you're sorry. That to me doesn't sound like someone that's a hardcore criminal and is unapologetic about it."

Lexa didn't know what to do about a stranger sounding so confident in her observations of her. She barely had a whole clear picture of herself. It was unnerving to hear Clarke sound so sure and correct at that. Was she more transparent than she realized?

"Seems like we're breaking down all the barriers here."

"Huh?"

"I didn't really care how inconvenienced I would make the person I stole from feel. I am sorry for putting you into this situation."

"Did you really not feel bad at all for whoever you were going to steal from?"

"You're going to regret asking that. I didn't really feel too bad. I think if I had to redo it all over again, I still would have done it."

"Oh."

Lexa could sense the disappointment.

"Did that finally give you the reality check you needed, Clarke?"

"Maybe but unluckily for you, it also made me even more curious to learn more about you."

Lexa's fingers tightened on the steering wheel before she released a pitiful groan. The girl was going to be even more determined than ever.

"Hey, did you know that in Michigan you are never more than 6 miles away from a body of water?"

"I did not know that, no."

"Is that where you are?"

Looking in the wrong direction.

"Nope. I can't say I've visited there yet. Clarke, you're not going to pinpoint my location with the details I've given you. Tell your friend to stop wasting her time."

Clarke huffed through the phone.

"You can't blame me for trying to figure out where you and my car are located."

"As long as you know that you will fail each time. That's something you're going to have to come to terms with."

"I think you're underestimating me, carjacker. I don't easily give up on anything that I want, ever."

"Sure, I'll try to remember that."

Lexa tapped her fingers against the wheel, driving the slower speed limit while silently admiring what seemed like an endless amount of trees on one side and the other an open view of the region. She always figured herself to be a city girl though there were times when it made her feel overwhelmed and claustrophobic. With nature surrounding her with its lack of buildings and people, it was amazingly peaceful.

"So...," Lexa eventually muttered after the pause in the conversation.

"So, can I ask if you even have a destination in mind for this trip of yours?

"Not really. Isn't that the point of a cross country road trip?"

"A road trip usually ends where it began."

"For others, maybe. They have a home and a life to return to. I have nothing in New York waiting for my return. I'm free to travel as far and wide as I want until I decide if I want to settle somewhere."

"Well, what if you did have something?"

"Have what something?"

"Something that you could return to."

"If I did then I guess I would return to wherever that something was. But I don't. It's only been me since I left my foster home years ago. That's never going to be my something and I've no plans to ever go back to where I was no longer wanted."

"Clearly there's a story there that -"

"That I won't be telling you."

"That you won't be sharing, right. I figured that much. What about the years you've been on your own?"

"Throughout the years, I've been nothing more than a hopeless wanderer. It's not like I've made any close connections with anyone."

"You never made any friends?"

"Not really. Well, except for one woman about 5 years back when I was trying to make an honest living and it wasn't getting me anywhere. She stole my wallet, I chased her down, and then she became my friend and mentor in how to live a not so honest lifestyle."

"I guess that's one way to make new friends. She's the one that got you into committing crime? It doesn't sound like she was a good influence on you."

"You're only saying that because if I hadn't met her then maybe we wouldn't be in the predicament we are in now."

Not sure of what to make of the sudden silence on the other end of the line, except that she was most likely correct, Lexa offered up another comment.

"Besides, she taught me how to survive in this world and I'll always appreciate what she has done for me."

"Are you still in contact with her?" Clarke finally responded.

"Not lately. I haven't seen her in months. She's like me, also the sort to wander off to wherever her feet take her."

She wondered how far Anya had traveled and what State she was in now. Were they close in distance or too far apart? Perhaps it was time to try reconnecting with her and find out where she was located now. She would happily drive the distance to see her mentor again.

She did miss Anya, her stories, and the shared understanding they had of each other.

"Well, I think I revealed enough to you today."

"See, I'm already proving myself right that I'd get to know you little by little with each phone call I make to you."

Lexa wouldn't admit out loud, but Clarke was slowly becoming familiar to her and she made it too easy to open up. It made her want to be all the more stubborn.

"I guess this is something I'm going to have to get used to, hm? Keeping you penned into my daily schedule."

"Yeah but there's time and I'm pretty confident that I'll even get you to look forward to these calls."

The thing was that Lexa was already starting to look forward to speaking to Clarke.

It was going to become problematic.

"Overconfident, I think you mean. I'm gonna let you go now since this drive is calling for my full attention."

"Alright, well, have a safe drive then, stranger. I'll speak to you again tomorrow."

"Tomorrow. Enjoy the rest of your day, Clarke."

After saying their goodbyes, Lexa finally disconnected the call and yanked out the Bluetooth earbud. That was enough of Clarke for today. Her eyes wanted to feast on the breathtaking sight that the line of trees finally revealed. Between the bright sunny afternoon sky and the chain of mountains that stood in the distance, it felt like Lexa was witnessing a true masterpiece coming to life.

She eventually pulled over to the side after an hour of driving and left the car sitting idle to stand near the guard rail. Inhaling the fresh mountain air, she sighed out contently, shoving her hands into her pockets. It was quite a view that was way more magnificent than the pamphlet pictures made it out to be. She was glad that she hadn't missed out on learning about the parkway.

This was the beginning of her making a new memory of every place she would get to visit. Lexa was going to savor it all. She was allowing herself new and better memories to hopefully replace the ones that still left their ugly mark on her. Wasn't she deserving of that?

There was only one little irritating feeling that was bugging her as she stood and took everything in. Something was missing. It was telling her that this memorable view shouldn't be admired alone but for it to be shared with someone.

Her imagination briefly visualized a blonde someone standing next to her, gasping in awe at the mountains, and cockily pointing out that she was right about Lexa being near a body of water when she spotted a river glittering down in the distance. It was a scene Clarke would like, she imagined.

Lexa groaned quietly, rubbing her temples to wipe away the picture her brain produced.

She had been right.

Things were most definitely going to get problematic for her.

#There's Distance Between Us #clexa au #clexa #Clexa TDBU #clexa fanfiction #clexa fanfic #clexa fic #myfic #my writing

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