#Also in the end you will learn how to find rational numbers between two rational numbers. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

biletdoux · 3 years

Text

stages of love | j.jh

Pairing | jung jaehyun (nct) + female!reader Rating | M Genre + Tropes | college!au, romance (angst, fluff, smut) Warnings | explicit language, alcohol consumption, instant love?, sexual content (drunk sex, receiving and giving oral, penetration, cow girl position, nipple play), greyzone fidelity Length | 15k+

Summary | A playlist for the trials and tribulations of a beating heart

(Or; your relationship with Jung Jaehyun in ten songs.)

Note: ahhhhhhh!!!! we finally did it boisssss. this fic has been a long time coming and honestly im sick and tired of jaehyun. i’ve spent too long thinking about him for this fic smh. this is also my first time writing smut so we’ll see how that goes lmao. anyway this was a long labor of love so please let me know what you thought of it !!! <333

1. Peach by IU

smitten at first sight.

“How can I explain this feeling?”

“Alright, I think that sums up about everything we need to cover for today’s lecture. Remember, most of this will be on your final exam. Any questions before you’re all dismissed?”

Your professor looks up from the board, scans the room and all he sees are most of the students waiting with bated breath, itching to leave the class, and half of those students having already packed their belongings in anticipation. He held them back an extra twenty five minutes today, which is notably longer than previous lectures in which he delayed dismissal.

“Okay, you’re free to go. Chapters nineteen and twenty are due the next time we meet.”

You breathe out a sigh of relief, ready to head out with the rest of the class. You like Professor Jang and find that he makes history somewhat digestible, but he has a tendency to lose track of time, which is inconvenient, but more so today since you have agreed to meet up with Yeri. You glance at your phone to see text notifications and curse to yourself. You’re already ten minutes late and Yeri is many things and impatient is one of them.

You’re one of the first out of the small lecture hall and you shoot her a quick reply before making your way to the oncampus cafe. Through quickened strides and shortcuts engrained from cross-campus treks from class to class, you arrive in record time. You’re slightly out of breath and impressed by your speed, but you stop, frozen in your tracks when you see Yeri’s displeased face. You find her situated in a small, but cozy corner next to the windows, already unpacked with notebooks and papers strewn on the desk ready to review for exams. It's one of the best study spots in the cafe and you immediately know your best friend had to come extra early to nab such a sought after table.

“About time,” she scowls, “what took you so long?”

You shoot her an apologetic look, “aww, Yeri,” you pout your lips a little too dramatically, “I’m sorry. I just came from history and you know how Professor Jang is.”

Yeri looks at your jutted lips in disgust, but then her face softens in consideration. “Hm, I do know Jang.” She scrunches up her nose remembering her time in his class last semester. “That old man can talk for days on end and he never lets anyone leave class early. I guess I’ll let you go this time.”

You beam at her knowing she’s no longer angry for your tardiness. “Great, drinks are on me today. It’s the least I can do for being late.” Yeri forgives as easily and as quickly as she loses her temper. You learned this after a few weeks of being her roommate.

Yeri says nothing in silent agreement and you place your stuff down across the table next to the chair she reserves for you. You pull out your wallet and weave through the packed cafe to head to the order counter. The line is long and you patiently review the menu. Your roommate has consistent tastes and always orders a vanilla frappuccino regardless of which cafe she goes to, but you base your decision on your mood. You mull over your choices and by the time you reach the barista taking your order, you decide you’re in an ‘iced Americano’ kind of mood today. You have exams on top of exams you need to review for and a stronger caffeine kick is much needed.

After paying, you head back to the table with two drinks in tow. Yeri takes her drink and after you both take a few sips and catch up for the day, you dive straight to work. The two of you decide to review for statistics.

Between re-summarizing chapters and answering review questions, you muse to yourself about how your college experience thus far hasn't been that much different from your high school life. You didn’t necessarily hate high school, per say, but it was safe to say you didn’t enjoy it. Your heart was in the arts, specifically music, and you had found studying the core subjects to be boring and tedious. You remember being ecstatic to have been accepted and enrolled in a performing arts college, foolishly thinking your days of solving differential equations and memorizing chemical formulas were over. You specifically remember daydreaming of your hours being filled with keyboard practice and composition notes and only such things. Somehow the reality of mandatory general education courses slipped your mind when you constructed such fantasies.

Despite frivolous and preconceived notions of college, you have already survived a semester and you are nearly through your second.

“Hey, do you remember when this stats assignment is due?” Yeri’s inquiring voice snaps you out of your brief reverie and you search your cluttered brain for a date.

“Uh, I think it’s due, like, a few days before the final, but I’d have to double check.”

Yeri nods. “Alright, well let’s take a small break. We have some time till then, we don’t have to finish all of it today.”

You happily agree and set down your pen. Yeri takes a sip of her frappuccino and you lean over the table to get closer to her. “Anyway, did you hear about what happened with Jiwon and Youngjae from the entertainment management department?”

Her eyes glisten with wicked interest. “No. Do tell.”

Break time is always synonymous with gossip hour between you and Yeri.

You spend the next fifteen minutes dishing what you know and Yeri offers her own input whenever she feels fit.

“And they think they’re being discreet, but the whole dorm knows they’ve been sneaking around, but guess wha─” Before you can finish your sentence, you are cut off by a loud and energetic voice calling out Yeri’s name.

The two of you look up to see a slim and boyish brunet waving to Yeri and excitedly making his way to your table. He looks vaguely familiar, but you can’t quite place your finger on it, so you let it go.

He smiles happily at Yeri and greets her. “Hey Yeri, how’s it going?” He notices you there and gives you a polite wave, which you return in the same manner.

Yeri replies back breezily, but with her full attention. “Good. Did you need anything, Mark?”

He flushes just the slightest bit, but it doesn’t escape your eyes. “Erm, nothing I just wanted to remind you that we’re meeting for the music theory project tomorrow at four. I would’ve texted, but I forgot to get your number in class, and I saw you here and thought it was a good opportunity to tell you.”

Yeri’s eyes widen, “ah right! I completely forgot about it. It’s a good thing you found me here today, huh? Here, I’ll give you my number.”

She reaches her hand out her hand expectantly, and Mark is confused before scrambling to pull out his phone. You can tell Mark looks flustered while Yeri is calmly putting in her contact information. After finishing, she hands his phone back, “okay, all set. Just shoot me a text so I have your number as well. Thanks for reminding me today or I probably would’ve forgotten and not have shown up or something.”

Mark smiles again, this time a little more sure than before. “All good. I’ll see you tomorrow, Yeri.”

They wave goodbye and you watch Mark scamper from the cafe. Your eyes follow him, but Yeri is already focused on you again, paying Mark’s retreating form no mind.

“So…” you start.

“So?” She returns.

“He’s cute.”

“Yeah, maybe,” she shrugged. “I barely know him though. We have music theory together, but this is the first time we’ve talked all semester and we’re only talking because we got paired up for a project.”

Yeri seems apathetic and you study her closely. You notice she’s acting a little too stiffly carefree to be truly indifferent to the situation. You can’t help, but to tease her a bit. “Well, make the most out of this project then.”

Yeri gives you a hard look and you decide to let it go despite finding your best friend’s situation to be amusing.

“Anyway, keep telling me about Jiwon and Youngjae. You never finished.” Yeri changes the topic, knowing that you might decide to pester her again if she doesn’t.

“As I was saying,” you started up again. A figure outside catches your attention and you peer outside through the window past Yeri’s shoulders. You realize it’s Mark and you watch with interest as he gestures excitedly, pointing to something in his hand, you assume his phone, to some of his friends. From there your eyes wander absentmindedly from one person to the next, and it’s when you see him.

The reaction is almost instantaneous.

“Like you were saying?” Yeri urges, but her words fall on deaf ears, for all your attention is captured by the boy next to Mark with heart-shaped lips.

When you see said boy laugh, you notice he has moon for eyes and you unconsciously suck in a sharp breath. You must have been staring too intently without noticing because he turns his head in your direction and you two hold direct eye contact. Like a deer caught in headlights, you freeze and lose all rational thought. Your head is completely blank. You have never seen someone so beautiful and your mind does not know how to process any sensory information at the moment.

Someone calls the boy away and the entire group of friends leave. It’s only then do you find yourself releasing a breath you didn’t know you had been holding onto so tightly. Your heart is pounding and you feel as though blood is rushing through your ears.

“Hello?” Yeri sounds annoyed, but you struggle to find the words to answer her.

You feel a sudden heat rush to color your cheeks a vibrant red and a feeling surges through you that leaves you out of breath and weak at the knees. A steady warmth washes over you quietly and you feel it deep within yourself and you can’t help but let out a small laugh.

How silly, you muse. Not to be dramatic, but you think you’re in love.

2. Shadow by f(x)

adoration from afar.

“I’m really really into you.”

The next few weeks are packed to the brim with assignments and papers, but despite this, you still find time for your personal research into the boy who was with Mark that day.

Being the obvious first and easiest option, you beg Yeri to ask Mark directly about his friend, but she immediately shoots you down.

“No. Absolutely not. At least not anytime soon anyway,” she huffs. “I’ve barely held two full conversations with him, like hell the next is gonna be about his friend just cause my best friend started thirsting over him after one glance. I mean come on, girl.” She shakes her head at you.

Yeri’s right and you apologize to her for being thoughtless of her situation. She doesn’t say it, but she seems really hopeful about the music theory project and what might bloom from it. You would not want to impede on such possibilities of happiness for your friend, so you let that option go, but Yeri promises to help in other ways and she does.

Somehow between caffeine fueled cram sessions and sleep deprivation, you, with Yeri’s help manage to find out more about the boy. You casually ask around in your contemporary writing and production department and she offers help by searching her vocal performance department.

You find out his name is Jung Jaehyun and he’s a third year in the musical theatre department and that he’s a member of the local chapter of the performing arts fraternity on campus. You also discover his Instagram handle and you find yourself skimming through his page throughout the day more often than you’re willing to admit to any living soul.

You occasionally see him around campus since you first saw him at the cafe and each time, you can feel your heart hammer in your chest and you become so flustered to the point of your sympathetic nervous system activating. Unfortunately for you, your body unconsciously chooses flight each and every time at the sight of Jaehyun because you can always feel your knees go weak and your body lurch away to escape in any direction that isn’t Jaehyun’s. You kind of hate yourself each time you do, but you can’t help it. He’s just so pretty that it’s intimidating!

You try to think positive after the bouts of shame you experience after each escapade.

Well there’s no way to embarrass yourself in front of him if you run away before having the chance to, right?

Even thinking about it now in the comfort of your bed, you can’t shake your self-consciousness and bury your face in a large pillow resting on your knees. Your cheeks are burning and you don’t know what to do.

“Hey, why don’t you just talk to him, instead of moping all day and stalking his profile like a creep.” Yeri’s crisp words cut through your musings and you glance up to see her entering your shared room in the dorms.

“Shut up. It’s not like I have a benevolent match-making professor who happens to pair me up with my crush for an end-of-semester project.” You retort back before sighing dramatically, “I literally have no excuse to talk to him. We’re not in the same year or major. We don’t even have mutual friends. Unless, y’know, you and Mark hit it off, who knows.”

Yeri sits down next to you on your small twin bed, resting her head on your shoulder while letting out an equally dramatic sigh, “yeah, well, Mark’s so dense, all the divine intervention in the world isn’t going to help me.”

You let out snort, “what’s up with you two anyway?”

“Y’know, I could’ve sworn he was into me and I had a chance with him, but every time we meet up we literally only work on the project and nothing else. Every time I sort of tried to do something I get shot down. Like I told him I was kind of chilly today in the library, and he looks all thoughtful for a moment but all he ends up saying is ‘yeah, all the buildings on campus are always cold, huh? Good thing I always bring a jacket with me. You should bring one too next time, I don’t want you getting cold.’ And then he just turns back to the project like nothing. Can you believe him?” Yeri complains and you swear her annoyance is palpable. “And every time I text him to hangout, he thinks it’s to work on the project. I honestly can’t tell if he’s really that stupid or if he’s just not into me.”

You laugh at her unfortunate, but undeniable state of love affairs.

“Really? That bad? I remember him being all blushy when he asked for your number,” you recall. “And you should’ve seen how he looked when he showed off he got your number. Well that’s what it looked like anyway, I could be wrong.”

“Well, at least I’ll get a good grade though. Mark is nothing if not diligent and hard-working, with him being a double major and all.” Yeri sounds resigned however, she sighs again, this time more frustrated and you hear the determination in her voice. “Alright, after finals, for sure we’re gonna hit the clubs. We need to let loose, have some fun.”

You agree with her to appease her short temper, but deep down you feel disappointed. You feel sorry for your friend, having genuinely wanted Mark and her to work out, but a small and selfish part of you felt sorry for having no bridge to Jaehyun at all if it didn’t work out between Yeri and Mark. Looks like you were stranded now and you’d have to find a way to Jaehyun one way or another, but your line of help ends here.

Shaking away such negative thoughts, you think to yourself how soju bombs and dance floors don’t so bad after such an intense exam period after all. It will definitely take your mind off of things for sure.

And even though you say this to yourself, you know your mind will still be plagued with Jung Jaehyun no matter how much you try.

3. What Is Love by EXO-K

careful contemplation.

“I can’t explain what I feel.”

“Mark, tell me you did not.” The disbelief in Johnny’s voice made the situation all the more hilarious and even Jaehyun, who’s the calmer of the two, couldn’t suppress the guffaw from escaping his lips.

The tips of Mark’s ears flush a light pink and he tries to deliver a convincing argument, but all that comes out is a meek stammer, further driving Johnny up the wall.

When Mark came up to his and Johnny’s room asking for advice, Jaehyun had an idea of where it was going to lead, considering Mark’s clueless disposition and inexperienced track record, but Jaehyun had no idea it was going to be this bad.

Mark, having developed a crush on a fellow vocal performance major in his music theory class, came to Johnny, his frat big, to spill his guts and ask for advice constantly. Being Johnny’s roommate, meant Jaehyun was also privy to all the details of Mark’s love life and he had no problem giving advice to the amusing first year student, which Mark appreciated because going to Johnny meant a clowning session before he could get any useful nuggets of information.

When Mark’s music theory professor randomly assigned the two for the end of semester project, Mark was one part excited and two parts nervous, resulting in a frazzled mess. He has been going up to the second room on the right of the second floor of the frat house almost every other day to ask for advice since then.

Johnny was thrilled when he initially heard of the project, already envisioning his little’s love prospects, stating something along the lines of “my little’s gonna get laid!”

However, now looking at Johnny rubbing his temples in exasperation, Jaehyun can tell that his roommate’s initial enthusiasm has dissipated.

Mark’s daily roadblock today consisted of his crush giving him the cold shoulder and being much more snappy than before in the project meet up earlier. Mark recalls Yeri’s anger toward him and racks his brain for an answer. Even Johnny and Jaehyun are stumped at the sudden behavior, assuming that things were going smoothly from Mark’s previous reports filled with clumsy, but endearing and ultimately positive signs. It’s only when Mark offhandedly mentions her so-called ‘strange’ comment about the temperature, does it become clear why Yeri’s attitude suddenly shifted so drastically.

“I mean, I don’t know what I did wrong.” Mark’s second attempt to defend himself has Johnny flaring his nostrils in indignation and Jaehyun has to turn away in an attempt to stifle his laughter.

“Dude, she’s so into you. Or, at least she was, I don’t know about it anymore.” Johnny starts after calming down. “She left herself wide open for you to take a clear shot and you effectively said to her face, ‘thanks but no thanks’ and then walked away. No wonder she’s pissed, I’d be pissed too.”

“Well, what was I supposed to do then?” Mark counters.

“Mark,” Johnny begins, his tone dry and coarse, “you’re killing me.”

Jaehyun deems this the perfect time to step in, the laughter about done coursing through his system at this point. He clears his throat before offering his input, “It’s not too, too bad. Johnny’s just being dramatic. If she likes you enough, she’ll probably forgive you if you play your cards right from here on out.”

Mark perks up, his attention solely on Jaehyun.

Jaehyun hums absentmindedly to himself, gathering and organizing his thoughts to properly explain exactly where and how Mark went wrong and what to do moving forward. When Jaehyun opens his mouth to speak, Mark is glued on to every word and Jaehyun can see the gears in his brain whirring at high speeds.

By the time Jaehyun is done, Johnny has calmed down and Mark nods his head fervently in understanding.

“Ah, that makes so much sense now! I got it now.”

Despite his assurances, both Johnny and Jaehyun know Mark will be back soon.

“Alright little, listen up,” Johnny starts. “Here’s the game plan from here on out.”

Johnny goes off on a sermon, determined to help his little ‘get some’ as Johnny so delicately puts it. Jaehyun can see it’s not the most tasteful of word choice for Mark to hear, but the youngest says nothing.

Lounging lazily in the bean bag on his side of the room, Jaehyun knocks his head back and thinks of a few weeks back when he accompanied Mark and some other frat members to the rec center for some basketball. Jaehyun remembers Mark was bemoaning the fact he forgot to ask for some girl’s number and it was as if a higher entity heard the boy’s laments and felt especially gracious, because right as they were passing the cafe, Mark stopped in his tracks and suddenly ran off into the busy building.

The group of frat boys watched him excitedly weave his way through the crowd of bodies and occupied tables to reach a table with two girls. When they saw the girl putting her number into Mark’s phone, Johnny elbowed Jaehyun, and like a proud parent Johnny exaggeratedly acknowledged his little. “They grow up so fast, don’t they, Jaehyun.” Johnny even wiped an imaginary tear from his eye to really send the message home.

It was only a few moments later and Mark came bounding out of the cafe, eager to show everyone how lucky it was that he happened to see her. “I mean what are the odds, right?” the said boy exclaimed so happily, his cheer so infectious, Jaehyun couldn’t help himself from letting out a laugh of his own.

Jaehyun turned to give Mark an encouraging pat on the back and it’s when he notices a pair of eyes on him. He turns fully to come in the direct line of sight of a girl whose eyes, Jaehyun imagined to have been very warm, had they not been burning holes into him. Her intense gaze slightly unnerved him, but not to the point of pulling away. He found himself entranced and the only thing that broke the quick spell was Johnny’s voice, calling him to move it along.

Jaehyun recalls easily breaking eye contact and giving little thought to the strange girl with fire for eyes, but as the days passed, Jaehyun couldn’t shake the thought of her from his mind.

Even now in the comfort of his room and with Johnny and Mark not even a foot away, carefully planning Mark’s love endeavors, all Jaehyun’s mind can really focus on is the thought of you.

Jaehyun is sure he’s only looked at you for less than a minute, but somehow he’s able to clearly trace out the image of you that day, like a perfect snapshot.

“Yo Jaehyun,” Johnny calls. “You good? You’ve been spacing out, bro.”

“Yeah, I’m good.” Jaehyun answers offhandedly, before contemplating to himself. Was he good? Jaehyun wouldn’t necessarily say he’s bad in any way, but it isn’t normal for him to have the thought of a girl remain so clearly engraved in his mind for so long, and even less common for it to actually be a girl he doesn’t even know nonetheless. It’s not a pressing issue, but it does bother him. He weighs over the next steps in his mind.

“Alright, just making sure.”

With one last thought, Jaehyun concludes to himself that it’s time to tackle his concern at hand head-on.

“Actually,” he starts, “Mark, do you remember the girl next to Yeri the day you asked for her number?”

Mark quirks his head in thought and Jaehyun can see Johnny raise his eyebrows in sudden interest.

“Uh kinda,” Mark answers. “I think she’s a CWP major. I’m pretty sure we shared an arranging class last semester, but like, I don’t know her personally or anything; it was a large lecture. To be honest, I don’t even think she recognized me at all, judging from her reaction that day. Why, what’s up?”

Jaehyun nods, absorbing the information, giving Johnny ample time to fire away.

“Yeah Jaehyun,” Jaehyun can visualize the glint in Johnny’s eyes just from hearing his mischievous tone. “What is up? I haven’t seen you ask about a girl in a hot minute. Thought you suddenly went abstinent without telling me or something.”

Jaehyun isn’t quite sure how to reply. Without a doubt you were cute to Jaehyun and he wouldn’t be opposed for things to happen between the two of you, but he doesn’t even know you! Well, not that it’s been a problem for Jaehyun in the past, but your lingering presence bothers him in ways he cannot communicate. Why is that the thought of you won’t leave him and why does it bother him so much?

Jaehyun decides to be straightforward, as straightforward as his muddled brain allows him to be. “She’s cute. I wanna get to know her.”

“Okay, Jaehyun.” Johnny whoops obnoxiously. “I see you.”

Mark is surprised and suddenly Johnny is all fired up again. Abruptly, Johnny shoots up and the determination that burns in his eyes is admirable.

“I’ve got it!” He declares proudly.

Jaehyun and Mark are quiet, waiting patiently for him to continue. They say nothing, knowing there is not a thing that can reach him when Johnny gets like this.

“We’re throwing a party and you bet your ass your two girls are gonna be there.”

4. Heaven by Ailee

walking on Cloud 9.

“When I hear your voice, it feels like I’m dreaming.”

You look up at the two-story house before you and wonder how you got here. Actually, you don’t wonder at all because you know exactly how you ended up at the steps of the local performing arts fraternity at your college, but you sigh regardless, as if someone had weaseled you into being here. Your nerves gnaw at you and you feel your stomach doing all types of aerobic tricks, the feeling reminiscent of the sensation before the roller coaster drops.

Yeri grabs your hand and pulls you excitedly to the front door. You can feel the thrum of music emanating from the building.

You recall how Yeri almost jumped you to tell the good news.

Finals flew by without any major hitches, ignoring sleepless nights and caffeine crashes. You don’t know how you’ll do, but you’re satisfied with your exam performances. You were in the clear and were just waiting for Yeri to present her joint music theory project before the both of you could finally let loose as a celebration to end the school year.

You waited for her outside of the classroom building as promised, playing with your phone to past time until you were suddenly engulfed by a delighted pair of arms. Yeri hugged you tight; she was in high spirits, seemingly from acing her presentation and you hugged her back in congratulations. She pulled at you closer and whispered in your ears, “just say yes.”

You were confused, but looked up to see Mark headed toward the two you. Yeri released you, leaving one arm still slung casually over your shoulder.

“Hey guys. My frat’s throwing a party tonight to celebrate finishing exams. I was wondering if, uh, you guys wanted to come? I mean you don’t have to, it’s totally optional.”

You didn’t say anything at first and Yeri interjected, “Of course!” She smiled at you innocently despite harshly pinching you to respond, her action hidden from Mark’s sight. “We’d love to, right?”

“Uh,” you answered distractedly. “Y-yeah, sure.”

“Great.” Mark beamed. “Party starts at eight. I gotta go help set up, so I’ll see ya there!”

And with that, he left as soon as he arrived and you looked at Yeri questioningly for answers. “I thought we were hitting downtown tonight. What happened to club hopping?”

Yeri smiled devilishly, “change of plans. I’ll tell you more about it later. The most important thing is finding the perfect outfit for you tonight, cause Jaehyun’s gonna be there.”

And so, here you find yourself dressed in high-waisted shorts and a cute top that took an embarrassingly long time to decide on. You are greeted by the fraternity president at the door of the house, Taeyong you think his name is, and he gives you two a quick verbal tour of the place, really emphasizing where to get drinks. Yeri thanks him for the both of you and you enter the crowded house. You think at least half of the performing art majors must’ve been here judging by the sheer volume of packed bodies.

You remember Yeri explaining how she and Mark may have been making a breakthrough and this party was imperative for its success. You were completely okay attending for that reason alone, because after all, what kind of person sends her best friend to a frat party alone? However, your resolve to go was set in stone after she explained that the frat that was throwing the party just happened to be the same frat Jaehyun was a member of.

“And y’know, seeing as how you’ve been obsessing over him the past few weeks, it’s the perfect opportunity.”

You frown remembering her words and make your way to the kitchen with Yeri in tow. Various beverages, alcoholic and non-alcoholic, crowd the table and you recognize the guy standing nearby idly chatting with others. It’s Jaemin, an acting major in your history lecture with whom you frequently exchange notes with when either one of you decides to flake for the day. You vaguely recall him mentioning his fraternity association, but didn’t realize it happened to be this one. He sees the two of you approaching the drink table and he smiles widely.

“Oh hey, what’s up?” Jaemin greets casually. “Didn’t expect to see you here. How’d you think you did in the history final?”

You groan. “I don’t even want to talk about it. What’s important is that we’re finished and I won’t ever have to think about the WWII timeline for, hopefully, forever.”

“Amen,” Jaemin laughs. “I’ll drink to that.” He raises up his red solo cup to cheers, before realizing both you and Yeri had nothing to drink.

“Oh shit, I’m a pretty bad host, huh? First thing I should've done was get you two something to drink.” He chides himself, but his tone is playful. “What can I get for you, ladies?”

Before you can think about what you want, Yeri cuts you off, her tone matching Jaemin’s. “How about some shots to start off and we’ll forgive the lack of hospitality.”

Jaemin laughs again. “Alright, I like it.” His hands are adept at weaving around the table and finding the paper shot cups and the vodka. “Svedka’s okay, right?”

“We’re not picky.” You and Yeri agree. You take the shot in one gulp and the unpleasant burning in your throat makes you wince.

“Can I get you two anything else?”

“Yeah,” you say. “I think another shot and then a mixed drink. Anything’s fine, but preferably on the stronger side.” You look over at Yeri and she nods in agreement.

“Coming right up.” Jaemin agrees easily.

He pours the two of you another shot and you think he must be a generous guy because the shot is overflowing. You and Yeri cheer once more while Jaemin gets to work mixing a cherry bourbon with some Coke. He tops off the drinks with some ice before handing it over to the both of you. “Here they are. Enjoy, ladies.”

You thank him and take a sip before excusing yourself to make your way around the party. The drink is sweet and the smoky aftertaste of the bourbon gives it a pleasant edge. You and Yeri are attached to the hip as you drift from one part to another around the party, making easy going small talk along the way. You are sufficiently buzzed by this point and feel much lighter as though the party was somehow two degrees removed from your senses. You look over to check on Yeri and she’s noticeably drunker than you are, giggling about the simplest of things and slurring her words just the slightest bit. You make a mental note to ease the drinking, wanting to be sober enough to look after her in case anything were to arise.

The two of you are at the base of the stairs when you hear Mark’s voice calling Yeri’s name. You turn your attention upward to see him ambling down the stairs with excited fervor. His cheeks are flushed, more so than usual around Yeri, and you can tell it’s due to alcohol because Mark is holding her hands and you know he can never be so bold without the help of liquid courage.

“Yo Mark, slow down there.” A voice calls out and you look up again and you feel your breath caught in your throat.

There in front of your eyes is Jung Jaehyun in the flesh. He looks heavenly dressed in simple jeans and a white tee. You unconsciously swallow the lump in your throat and your heart beat gallops a mile a minute in your chest. Your mouth goes dry and you mindlessly gulp down swigs of your drink. You know Yeri would’ve sniggered at your current state had she not been so tipsy and completely preoccupied with Mark.

Jaehyun catches up to Mark and when he reaches the base of the stairs, he notices the two of you.

“Oh Jaehyun, lemme introduce you guys.”

As promised, Mark introduces everyone quickly and Jaehyun shoots a smile that seems to be aimed at you. “Nice to meet everyone.”

“Cool, now that everyone knows each other,” Mark starts. “Yeri, can I show you something?”

“Uh, y-yeah.”

You give Yeri a hard look and she takes your hand to squeeze it in reassurance. She looks at you pleadingly and there’s a confidence in her eyes that you can’t argue with. You relent and let her go.

Mark takes her by the hand and leads her up the stairs while you watch, slightly worried.

Jaehyun seems to have sensed your apprehension because the words that leave his mouth snaps you out of your perturbed state. “Don’t worry. Mark’s a good kid, you have nothing to worry about. You have my word on it.”

And suddenly the situation dawns on you. The boy of your recent all-consuming infatuation stands here before you, and it’s just the two of you alone. Any social skills you have, leave you and you’re unsure of what to do.

Jaehyun notices the awkward tension in the air and works quickly to dispel it. “Your drink’s looking low. Can I get you something else?”

You look down to your drink to see that he was right. Only a few sips remain. You didn’t realize you had drank so much at the sight of Jaehyun.

“Um, some water would be good. I don’t want to be too hungover tomorrow.” You answer shyly. You also need to be sober enough to look after Yeri, but you decide to leave that out.

Jaehyun chuckles, “sure thing. Here, come with me. I’ll get you some water.”

Jaehyun leads you to the kitchen with ease, seamlessly weaving through the crowds of people. Every group of people he passes greets him loudly to be heard of the pounding bass of the music. You are not surprised to see how popular he is.

Once in the kitchen, he grabs you a bottle of water and a beer for himself from the fridge and you thank him. The cold water is refreshing, but it does little to cool your nerves. The awkward tension is high and still ever present. You feel as though you’re drowning in it and you also feel like running away from here despite this being what you’ve wanted for more than anything for weeks on end.

“So,” Jaehyun starts, clearing his throat. “Mark told me you’re a CWP major?”

“Uh, y-yeah, actually.” You hate how you’re so flustered around him. “How’d he know? Did Yeri tell him or something?”

“He said you guys shared an arranging class last semester.” Jaehyun recalls.

“Wait, really? I had no idea.” You start going off on how you could’ve missed such a thing and Jaehyun smiles. You’re much more comfortable when a rhythm has been established and the words flow out of you easily. You’re not as relaxed as where Jaehyun wants you to be, but he thinks it’s a good start.

You continue with small talk from there, much less uptight than before and you feel glad. Jaehyun is as radiant in person as he is in your imagination. You find him to be very kind and your heart flutters even more. Jaehyun mentions he’s a musical theatre major and you do your best to act surprised despite it being one of the only things you know about him prior to this moment.

Before he gets a chance to tell you more about himself, a tall boy with long limbs calls out to Jaehyun that it’s his turn to join the next game of beer pong. Jaehyun looks reluctant to leave and you don’t want him to leave either, but you’d hate to hold him back from prior engagements.

“Would you,” Jaehyun licks his lips in consideration, “like to play with me? I don’t have a partner.”

You nod your head and readily agree, eager to spend more time with him.

You’ve only played beer pong a handful of times and being around Jaehyun makes you nervous, so you miss the first few shots. You feel embarrassed, but Jaehyun is patient and assures you that it’s no problem at all. His little words of encouragement mixed with the beer you drink helps melt your tension, and halfway through the game, you’re whooping and hollering with everyone watching the game.

You high-five Jaehyun without a second thought after nailing a perfect shot and Jaehyun smiles even wider. The two of you are leading when Taeyong comes in to kick everyone out.

“Sorry guys, party’s over.”

Groans of complaints could be heard throughout the crowd, but Taeyong’s words are firm and he ushers everyone to leave. He has a few other frat members behind him helping out. He reaches the beer pong table and pulls Jaehyun aside. After a few exchanged words, Jaehyun nods in agreement and ends the game completely, apologizing to his opponents.

You’re confused, so you carefully ask Jaehyun what’s going on. He sees you and his gaze softens, he quietly explains, “apparently, the campus police have received multiple noise complaints and since the fraternity already has a strike, Taeyong doesn’t really want to risk another. “

“Ah, I see.” You nod. You’re saddened by the turn of events, having finally eased into a relative comfort around Jaehyun and you yearn for more. “Well, I better go look for Yeri then.”

This is a goodbye and you’re unsure of what else to say to him, your disappointment mixes with alcohol making you feel even more miserable. You want to ask for more, but can’t find the words to reach him. Luckily, Jaehyun does it for you.

“Are you free sometime this week?” He asks. “I feel like we didn’t get a chance to really talk and I’d like to.”

Your heart hammers and the blood rushes in your ears, but you still find yourself uttering a mousy agreement.

“Great,” his smile is dazzling and you feel dizzy. “It’s a date then.”

5. 24 Hours by Sunmi

rushed minutes.

“Time goes by so quickly.”

“Hey,” a distant voice calls out and Jaehyun looks up from his phone to see your approaching figure. Your cheeks are rosy from the summer sun and stray pieces of your hair escape from your loosely styled updo. Jaehyun takes all of you in with careful appreciation.

“Hey yourself.” Jaehyun chuckles, slipping his phone casually in his pocket and standing up straighter to greet you properly.

Jaehyun sees the red of your face flush brighter, the soft color bleeding across your cheeks and onto your nose. Cute, he thinks. He watches as you tighten your grip on your clutch, knuckles white with nervous tension, in an attempt to gather your composure and calm your nerves. You clear your throat, “I didn’t know you’d be here so soon. You should’ve texted me.”

“It’s all good, I finished early.” Jaehyun notices you no longer stutter around him like the first night you two met. He’s glad the days and nights of sober texting after exchanging numbers at the party did wonders to make you feel comfortable around him. He’s not too worried about your current ‘first-date’ anxiety, knowing it’ll be dispelled soon enough. “Shall we?” He moves to open the door and the cool rush of air from the cafe greets the two of you.

The cafe is quaint and cozy, tucked away in a small corner of intersecting back streets and crowded buildings. Jaehyun discovered the little spot not too long ago and something, Jaehyun assumes his instincts, compelled him to take you to it for the first official date. It just felt right.

The two of you walk to the order counter and you take it all in. You can hear the quiet chatter of the cafe occupants mixed with the rattle of espresso machines being put to work. Your eyes scan over the decorations and several potted succulents hanging from the ceiling. It’s incredibly homey and you feel at ease.

“Hiya, I can help the two of you whenever you guys are ready.” The barista is cheerful to a fault and Jaehyun watches you shoot her a grateful smile before your eyes move to the menu to decide on what to get.

Jaehyun knows what he wants, so he waits patiently for you to decide, but seeing your eyebrows scrunch together in indecision, Jaehyun chuckles to himself. “I hear the iced lattes here are really good, particularly the caramel latte,” he offers.

You perk up in surprise, but you recover quickly, “okay, that sounds good then. I was between that and the iced cocoa.”

“No problem, I’ll order then. Today’s on me.” Jaehyun says.

Jaehyun walks up to the barista and quickly places the order. He reaches for his wallet after the barista recites the order, but he falters slightly when he sees your gaze glued to the cake display, particularly the crepe cake.

“Can I get a slice of the chocolate crepe cake over there too?”

“Of course! Here’s your new total,” she turns the touch screen display over to Jaehyun and he readily inserts his card to pay. When finished, Jaehyun turns back the screen and after a few taps from the barista, a receipt is printed and she hands him a buzzer.

“Your order will be out shortly.” She informs him.

Jaehyun smiles and says a small ‘thank you’ in return before turning his attention to you. You look up to meet his eyes and you smile, “can we sit over there by the window?”

You head to the little corner table first with Jaehyun steadily in tow. You sit at the chair that leaves your back to the window and Jaehyun is mesmerized by how the afternoon sunlight refracts through your silhouette. You’re glowing and Jaehyun swallows thickly.

“So,” he starts. “What have you been up to?”

“Celebrating finishing my first year of college in one piece.” You laugh lightly. “I got by with passable grades, but other than that Yeri and I just finished moving into our new dorms. We’re no longer freshmen, so first year dorms are off limits. I’m gonna miss the convenient location.” You jokingly mope.

Jaehyun laughs easily with you and before he gets a chance to reply, the buzzer goes off so he excuses himself to go pick up the order.

A different barista places down a tray with your two drinks and a small slice of cheesecake with two dessert forks resting on some napkins. “Enjoy your order!”

Jaehyun smiles in thanks and picks up the tray to bring it back to the table. He can’t wait to see the look on your face when you see the mille crepe cake and true to his expectations, your eyes light up at the sight of dessert.

“Surprise.” He says. “I saw you looking at it earlier.”

Jaehyun watches as you immediately grab a small fork and try a piece of the cake with unrestricted child-like excitement. Your eyes light up at the taste of the delicate layers of fresh whipped cream and thin crepes and the smile you shoot in his direction has Jaehyun’s heart beating a little faster than he’s willing to admit.

“Thank you!” You look up at him. “It’s so good, you should definitely try a bite too.”

“Yeah? I’ll try some then.” Jaehyun sits down and leans even closer to you over the table, his mouth open and expectant and his eyes staring straight into yours.

You try your best to bite back the scarlet fighting to stain your cheeks as you cinch off a small section of the cake with your fork. Your hand falters just the slightest bit when delivering the small confection to his awaiting mouth, but you push through and feed him despite the embarrassment you feel.

Jaehyun chews slowly and deliberately, taking his time to lick the stray whipped cream from the corner of his mouth. You lose the game of chicken, breaking eye contact first.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “It’s good. We should definitely come back.”

You let out a little awkward cough, desperate to ward off your cloud of emotions. “Uhm, yeah sure.”

Jaehyun has always thought you were cute, but he thinks you’re especially cute today.

“Anyway,” you start. You want to change the topic because you don’t think you can survive this tension without your brain frying. “I feel like I’ve just seen you around recently. I should’ve run into you a long time ago since the performing arts college is so small.”

“Oh,” Jaehyun is a little taken aback. “I used to be over at the East Campus. I was a business and administration major for two years before I switched over to musical theatre.”

“Wait really?” Your surprise erases any tension you felt earlier. “I had no idea.”

“Yeah,” he laughs. “It doesn’t really come up in conversation.”

“Why’d you switch over? If you don’t mind me asking.”

Jaehyun contemplates his reply for a second as takes a sip of his coffee. “Well, when I entered college, I didn’t really know what I wanted, so I just followed whatever my parents wanted me to do. I actually knew I liked musical theatre for the longest time, but it took time for me to build up the courage to switch. My parents weren’t happy with it at first and we fought for the longest time, but I think they’ve warmed up to it enough by now. I’ve never really talked about this though, I just tell people I transferred from a different college and the conversation just ends there I guess, but it’s really no big deal.”

“Thank you for telling me this, Jaehyun.” Your voice is sincere and Jaehyun believes you.

“What about you, hm?” Jaehyun returns. “Why CWP?”

“I don’t really have one point that changed my life and helped me find my calling or whatever,” you ponder with a tilt of the head and the taste of cream dissolving in your mouth. “But ever since I was little, I always knew I was gonna end up doing something in music. I was never good at singing though, so vocal performance was out the door and I wasn’t that interested in classical instruments either, so that helped me narrow stuff down. Actually, what really helped me decide was during orientation, my group leader was a contemporary writing and production major and she told me all about it and I’ve been sold ever since. I really like it though, and have no intention of switching.”

“That’s good. Sometimes I wish I switched earlier.” Jaehyun muses. “I feel so behind sometimes. Most people in my class have already been in at least one musical and an internship, except for me. I think about it a lot, but I try not to let it get me so down.”

“You shouldn’t feel that way!” You try your best to cheer him up, and Jaehyun appreciates it a lot more than he thought he would. “Everyone has their own pace, that’s what college is all about! Nothing is ever wasted time. You can think of your time as a business admin major as a way to help you make up your mind on your true passion. You told me you’ve always liked musical theatre, but I’ve bet without the time in business, you would’ve never known you liked it enough to pursue a career out of it.”

Jaehyun laughs at your earnesty. He thinks you’re a touch naive, but your words make him feel light. “You’re right. I can say for sure I wasn’t happy as a business major.”

“See? Nothing is ever wasted time if you can discover your true happiness out of it.”

The two of you exchange easy chatter after that and between small bites of cake and sips of coffee, Jaehyun thinks you’ve become prettier and prettier.

“What was it like?” You ask absentmindedly.

“Hm? What was ‘what’ like?”

“Being a business and administration major.”

Jaehyun has to think about it. He recalls constantly dressing up for group presentations and boring lectures, but his mind wanders to his activities outside the classroom. He remembers the constant partying and the blur of faces that helped him keep his bed warm. He remembers brief flings and relationships cut short. He doesn’t want to think about those things when he’s next to you. “Uhm. It was okay, nothing special, but that reminds me–”

“Yeah?”

“Are you free next weekend?”

“I should be. Why, what’s up?”

“Great,” Jaehyun smiles while taking the last sip of his coffee. “I’m having a housewarming party at my new apartment. You should definitely be there.”

The day of the long awaited housewarming party rolls up sooner than expected between settling into your new dorm with Yeri and the occasional small ‘get-togethers’ with Jaehyun. They’re actually dates if you're being honest, but you don’t want to put a title on anything in case he wasn’t on the same page as you. Being with Jaehyun made you giddy in more ways than one, but that means the anxiety that pools at the base of your stomach grows larger each day when the relationship between the two of you goes unnamed. You feel greedy when you desperately grasp at the shred of time you share with him, always unwillingly to let go.

“Are you ready?” Yeri’s voice breaks you out of your small reverie. Her hand is poised, ready to knock on the black door of Jaehyun’s apartment, waiting for you to gather your composure. Yeri is dressed to the nines in a cute skirt with a top to match. She wants to look good for her new boyfriend and you teased her endlessly for it when the two of you were getting ready.

“Mark’s one lucky guy.”

“Shut up. Worry about yourself.”

“All I do is love you, yet you’re so mean to me.”

Regardless of her harsh words toward you, she helped you toss your closet inside and out for the perfect outfit to woo Jaehyun, even if it meant showing up late to the party.

The two of you leave your dorm twenty minutes later than you intended and it also didn’t help that Jaehyun’s apartment was difficult to find, tucked away in a small building between towering skyscrapers, but now is finally the moment of truth.

“Yeah, I’m ready as I’ll ever be,” you mutter as you watch Yeri knock on the door.

It takes a minute before the door creaks open and Jaehyun’s head pops out. His smile is radiant and you’re absolutely ensnared by the way his fringe falls over his forehead.

“Hey, glad you two could make it.” Jaehyun opens the door wider to allow you and Yeri to enter. He greets Yeri with polite warmth while he wraps an arm over your shoulders. When Yeri heads in the apartment first with her back against the two of you, Jaehyun steals a quick peck to your temple and whispers, “you look pretty tonight.”

His touch is fleeting and he pulls back quickly, as if you imagined the whole thing, but his cheeky smile tells you that it really did happen. Your heart hammers and you force yourself to focus on the steady thrum of mellow R&B that reverberates throughout his apartment to calm yourself. You take his apartment in steady strides with your full attention. It’s sleek and modern with a few pops of his personality here and there in the form of trinkets decoration choices.

“Hey!” Johnny calls over from the couch. He has a beer in hand, but he’s far from tipsy. Flanked on one side is Doyoung with another beer to match and on the other is Sicheng. Seulgi, the girl, who you assume is Sicheng’s significant other, by the way his arm is casually wrapped around her waist, is also there and she nods at you in greeting. You've come to know about all of them after hanging out with Jaehyun so much. “Did you guys get lost or something?”

“Yeah,” Yeri replies as she moves to sit next to Mark who’s on the adjacent loveseat and resting a drink on the coffee table. “Something like that.”

She places a sweet kiss to the corner of Mark’s mouth in greeting and you swear you can hear him crooning at the attention.

“Doesn’t matter, Johnny. The important thing is that they’re here now.” Jaehyun interjects. “Do you guys want anything to drink?”

“That’d be nice.” You hum.

Yeri laughs in agreement, “yeah, the two of us could never say no to a drink.”

“Alright, I’m on it.” Jaehyun calls while moving to the kitchen. “Any preferences?”

“No,” you say. “Surprise us.”

Jaehyun works to mix drinks and you take a seat on the floor next to the coffee table to observe the party. Perched on the shelf of a slender bookcase in the corner of his living room is a bluetooth speaker playing music, the rhythm quiet and bass steady as everyone chatters away once introductions are made on the sofas. You remember him offhandedly mentioning that he doesn’t want any noise complaints on his first week in the new place and it makes sense. Jaehyun’s housewarming party is a quiet affair that is far different from the wild party at the frat house in which you met him, but you think this vibe fits Jaehyun more.

Jaehyun returns shortly with two drinks in tow for you and Yeri and sits himself snugly next to you on the floor. He picks his idle beer from the coffee table and once Johnny realizes that everyone in the proximity has a drink in hand, he raises his voice and beer in a toast. “It sucks that Taeyong couldn’t make it tonight, but here’s to having fun without him. We’re gonna get twice as fucked up to make up for his absence, cheers!”

Everyone lets out a chuckle, but obliges to humor him anyway and joins to connect their drink to his in cheers.

You pull your cup back and take a big gulp of the drink. It’s sweet and carbonated, but the sting of alcohol at your throat leaves you wincing just the slightest bit.

A few pleasantries are exchanged here and there, but it’s only then does Doyoung pull out a deck of cards with a devilish glint in his eyes that deceive his looks.

“Ring of fire, anyone?”

After who knows how many rounds of ring of fire (and maybe a few other drinking games here and there) with too many drink refills for you to remember, you somehow find yourself splayed on the couch and leaning over Yeri’s shoulder in support. Seulgi is on the other side of you leaning on you for support, the same way you’re doing to Yeri, but you don’t mind it one bit. The three of you have grown surprisingly close with one another throughout the night.

Your mind is lucid enough to still be conscious and completely aware of where you are and what you’re doing, but the alcohol in your system eats away at the details in your memory.

You vaguely recall ridiculous punishments that involved Johnny twerking on the dining room table and Mark taking a shot of Jack Daniels mixed with ketchup, and you can’t help but snicker to yourself.

“I think we should get going now.” Sicheng is the first to speak as he moves to help Seulgi up. “It’s getting late.”

Doyoung looks a little groggy, but when he checks the time, he perks up immediately, “oh shit, you’re right. I need to get going too, I’ve got something in the morning.”

With that everyone shuffles to clean the remnants of the party with as much grace as they can muster while intoxicated, which wasn’t much, but in twenty minutes, Jaehyun is already walking half the party to the door in goodbye. Only you, Mark, and Yeri are left.

“Hey Yeri,” Mark calls softly to Yeri as he brushes a strand of hair from her face. “Are you ready to go too?”

Yeri is still sprawled on the couch with you, but mumbles a small response. “Yeah, I should be. Give me a second.”

She turns over to you and nudges you just the slightest bit. “I’m gonna go back to Mark’s tonight, are you gonna be okay?”

“Yeah,” you assure her. “I’ll be fine, just go have fun.”

“She’s free to rest here until she’s ready to leave, don’t worry. I’ll call a cab for her when the time comes.” Jaehyun pipes up.

Yeri gives you a look, but you squeeze her hand one last time to give her some peace of mind. “I’m a big girl, Yeri. I’ll be okay, promise. I’ll walk you to the door, Mark’s waiting.”

You give Yeri a tight hug in goodbye and you find your way back to the couch. The fact that you’re all alone in Jaehyun’s apartment doesn’t hit because of the remnants of alcohol in your system melts away your nerves.

You’re pleasantly buzzed, lost in your own thoughts when Jaehyun comes up to you with a glass of water in hand. “Here, so you don’t feel as bad tomorrow morning.”

You accept it gratefully and take in big gulps, the water refreshing, but your skin feels hot.

Jaehyun takes a seat next to you and the proximity makes your head spin. You turn to look at him, and he flashes you a smile.

“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?”

“You might’ve mentioned something.” You tease. “But I don’t mind hearing it again.”

“Well,” he hums. You’re not sure, but you think the distance between the two of you is decreasing. “You really do look stunning tonight.”

You flush at his words, but you look straight into his eyes. “You don’t look too bad yourself.”

“Yeah? I try to impress.” Jaehyun’s eyes are hooded and your throat goes dry. “Can I kiss you?”

You say nothing at first, his words not registering into your muddled brain, but when you feel his breath ghost over your lips, you don’t hesitate to close the gap between you.

His lips are slightly chapped and you can taste the vodka on his breath, but to you it’s perfect. Jaehyun’s perfect.

Jaehyun kisses you with reserved passion and practiced expertise. His tongue sets the rhythm against yours and his roaming hands have you feeling as if you’ve been set ablaze. He pulls back just the tiniest bit and the intense longing for his touch that hits you is indescribable.

You pull him back in your arms and your lips reconnect in a desperate fervor. Jaehyun adjusts his arms around you and the next you know, you’re in his embrace and he’s carrying you to his bedroom. He places you down gently, his bed is plush and comforter soft.

Jaehyun’s touch is gentle as he gathers your face in his hands. He kisses you again and you wrap your arm around his neck to pull him closer. He pulls back and looks at you earnestly. “I don’t want to do anything you’re not comfortable with. We don’t have to do anything tonight.”

Everything’s moving so fast and you’re dizzy, but you don’t want whatever this is to stop. You want to be as close to Jaehyun as possible.

“No,” your voice is hoarse. “Don’t stop. I want you, Jaehyun.”

He kisses you again, this time unrestrained. His tongue is hot, but you can only savor it for a minute before he starts trailing kisses down your neck and tugging at your shirt. You let out a breathy moan in response to how his touches make you feel.

Jaehyun reaches at your shorts and makes quick work at unbuttoning them. You help him remove the article of clothing and his slender fingers dart inside your panties. You’re slick to the touch and Jaehyun must be made of magic because you think you’re seeing stars. You unravel before him embarrassingly quick, but he kisses you at the base of your clavicle in sweet reassurance.

Your chest is heaving, but you want more. You grab at Jaehyun’s shirt, urging him to take it off. The expanse of his abdomen is a sight to behold, but Jaehyun is cruel and doesn’t give you the time to take it in. He’s on top of you again, lips crashing onto yours once more. He reaches behind you to unclasp your bra and while he’s pre-occupied, you unbuckle his belt and steal a moment in his boxers. He feels thick and hot in your hands as you run your finger over the tip to feel a drop of pre-cum. He buckles just the slightest bit and it emboldens you.

Jaehyun helps himself out of his jeans and you push him onto the bed wanting to be on top this time. He’s straining against his boxers and you want to help relieve the tension. When you pull off his boxers you can feel his inaudible groan. You stroke his length gingerly and look up to see him with hooded eyes look right back at you.

This excites you so you take him in your mouth in a moment of unfiltered courage. Your tongue starts at the base before tracing your way up to his sensitive head. You tease him accordingly to his quiet grunts and groans and when you feel like he’s had enough, you take all of him in until his tip is hitting the back of your throat. You gag a bit, but push through.

“Fuck,” Jaehyun stutters out between stacatoed breaths. “Babe, you’re so good.”

You hum in pleasure at his praise and he grabs your hair. This goes on for a few more minutes before he reaches down to stop you. “Not that I don’t love this,” the look in your eyes nearly has him faltering his words, “but I don’t want to cum just yet.”

You relent with a slick pop and Jaehyun shifts over to rummage for a condom in his nightstand. You settle back down in his pillows. Jaehyun gives you a soft kiss on the lips before he enters you.

“Tell me when it’s okay to move,” he whispers and you place a small kiss at the base of his neck.

He starts off slow to let you acclimate to his size, but neither of you are very patient, so he ends up pounding into you a lot sooner than he anticipated and you find yourself getting caught up in the pleasure.

It feels like you’re dreaming, but if this was a dream, you never want to wake up.

6. Hush by Miss A

shh, no talking, just us.

“I can’t think straight.”

You and Jaehyun don’t become official until a few weeks later.

He asks you one day when you’re naked and out of breath. You’ve gone one too many rounds with him and a thin layer of sweat coats your body as you lay on his heaving chest. You absentmindedly draw shapes on his skin and he gives you a chaste kiss to your temple.

“We should date.” He hums. “I think I’d make a good boyfriend.”

“Yeah?” You raise your eyebrow in teasing.

“Yeah,” he ascertains. “Give me a chance and I’ll show you.”

“Hmm,” you pretend to think it over as if this wasn’t you’ve been hoping for since the first moment you laid eyes on him. “Okay. Let’s give it a try, boyfriend.”

Jaehyun laughs and you feel the world fall into its right place. “Alright, girlfriend.”

And the rest is history as they say.

Jaehyun isn’t your first, but you experience many firsts with him. You’re not exactly inexperienced, but he really opens your eyes.

“Fuck,” he groans into your neck. His hands grip at your hips to help guide you along, but you’re fully in charge. “You’re doing so good, babe. Just like that.”

You didn’t see yourself as someone who liked to take charge during sex, but after that one time Jaehyun asked you to top, you’ve never looked back since.

You roll hips into him and at a pace you know drives Jaehyun wild and you pull him into a sloppy kiss. It’s all tongue and no grace, but you love it the same regardless. You capture his bottom lips between your teeth playfully before pushing him flat on his back until he’s firm against his plush mattress. You place a hand on his chest and the other on his thigh to balance yourself and Jaehyun immediately knows you’re close.

A hand rests on your hip to steady you while the other snakes over to play with your clit to further stimulate you toward your climax. Jaehyun knows what you like and his timing is impeccable, so before you know it, both of you are reaching your highs together. You collapse on his chest and you allow yourself to stay in his warmth long enough to have your breaths synchronize before you extricate yourself from him to head to his bathroom.

When you come back out, he’s disposed of the used condom and opens your arm wide for a hug, which you gladly indulge in.

Time stops when you’re in his arms.

On the surface, it looks like Jaehyun likes to mix it up. He seems like an elusive guy with varied tastes, but the more time you spend with him, you realize he likes the control of seeing you unravel before him.

He likes the intimacy of missionary.

The close proximity to your body has him looking into your eyes and leaving you feeling the most vulnerable of ways. He has full access to your neck, which he lovingly claims as his own and you chide him the next day when you see scattered purple blooms. Jaehyun changes his pace on a whim and you fall to his mercy. When he takes you fast and hard, you see stars, but when thrusts in you with languid leisure, he has you begging for more.

He likes the intensity of taking from behind.

When you’re on your knees with your ass in the air, he takes it as a guarantee to fuck you senseless. Your muffled moans makes his dick twitch and you swear you can feel him fuck into you even faster. Jaehyun always makes sure to wrap his arms around you to finger your clit until you go into sensory overload and he doesn’t stop pounding into you until there are tears in your eyes. He kisses each one away before taking your lips in his and you can taste the salt water on his tongue.

He likes the dominance from eating you out.

He laps at your core like a starved man and makes good use of his adept fingers until your head is spinning. Jaehyun makes it a habit to eat you out until you’re satisfied before he gets his turn. When your thighs are on either side of his head and your hands tangled in his hair, he swears he can stay there forever.

Above all, Jaehyun just likes you. He likes being with you and he definitely likes fucking you and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Mmmh,” you breathe out.

Your back is flush against Jaehyun’s back as you rock your hips back and forth on his dick. You grind your ass back even harder when he pinches your nipple between his fingers.

He kisses your shoulder blade from behind and bucks his hip upward to meet you in the middle.

The afternoon sunlight is streaming in from the gaps of his blinds and you want to take it nice and slow today. The television in front of you is playing a movie, but you’re too enraptured by the feeling of him filling you to the brim to pay it any mind.

“I love it when you’re on top, babe.” he hums as he plays with your clit.

You let out another breathy groan before you can find the composure to bite back at him. “What happened to no sex today, hmm? I thought we were just going to have innocent quality time together and watch a movie.”

Jaehyun must’ve not liked your sass, so he bucks up harder. He’s telling you to pick up the pace and you oblige. Before you know, you’re practically bouncing on his dick and you can feel your impending high about to crash down on you. He can sense it too and maintains his tempo. When you cum, Jaehyun rides on the tail of your climax in pursuit of his own. He cums shortly after with stuttering hips and a bite on your shoulder. He gathers you in his arms and runs his tongue soothingly over where he bit you and the various love bites that he’s littered on the expanse of your skin.

“Just being with you is quality time in itself.” He says. “Besides, class is starting soon, so I won’t get to see you as much.”

7. Disturbance by BoA

a ripple on the surface.

“I didn’t know at first.”

“So I do have a roommate after all,” Yeri’s voice calls out and you turn over to see her standing by the doorway. You roll your eyes at her, but quickly turn back to gather your things.

She lets out a chuckle, but you don’t miss the sour edge to her tone. “I thought I got a single dorm since it’s so empty all the time.”

“You say that, Yeri,” you retort. “But I know you’re over at Mark’s constantly so I don’t wanna hear it from you.”

“Yeah, but I make time to come back here and I always let you know when I’m going out. I feel like I’ve only seen you maybe once or twice the past few months. I feel like the only reason I see you these days is ‘cause of classes.”

“You’re just exaggerating, don’t be so dramatic. Come on, let’s go. I don’t want to be late.”

She looks displeased, but nothing leaves her lips as the two of you head out for the day.

It’s late.

When night falls, shadows come out to play and your college campus is riddled with them. The school auditorium is situated in the far corner of the campus and the lamp lights of the main walkways do little, but you pay it little mind. Jaehyun should be getting out soon.

It takes another ten minutes to see him emerge from the double doors and you perk up immediately at the sight of him. He looks a little shocked to see you, but greets you with a warm hug and small peck regardless.

“Hey,” his voice is small, almost reserved. “What are you doing here? I thought I told you I was finishing late tonight.”

“Oh, you did, but I still wanted to see you.” You explain, eyes bright and tone undeterred.

“Not that I don’t appreciate it,” he licks his lip. “But it’s really late and I still have more stuff I need to work on. I’ll see you some other time, okay?”

“Oh, okay.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry, babe. Next time.”

“Oh hey,” you smile, but Yeri’s fury is palpable and cuts through you.

“Don’t ‘oh hey’ me.” She spits out. “Where have you been? Why didn’t you answer your phone?”

Sheepish, you reply, “oh sorry. I forgot to fully charge it before leaving and Jaehyun and I have different phones, so I couldn’t charge it at his place.”

“You were at Jaehyun’s?” Yeri is glaring at you at this point and you feel a bit peeved.

“Yeah. What of it?”

Yeri’s been getting angry at you recently, losing her temper at the drop of a hat, and you can’t seem to pinpoint why. You’re getting tired of being her punching bag.

“We made plans to go shop for Seulgi’s gift today. You promised you’d be there, don’t you remember?”

“Oh shit.” It completely slips from your mind and you open your mouth to apologize, but Yeri cuts you off before you get the chance.

“Forget it. I don’t want to hear it. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

Yeri turns to leave before you can say anything back.

8. Symptoms by SHINee

something’s wrong.

“The worse it gets, the more exhausted I get.”

Jaehyun feels off.

He can’t pinpoint exactly what he is that he’s feeling, but he thinks it’s reminiscent of his world being tilted by six degrees. It’s not immediately jarring and takes little time for his eyes to register, but he’ll occasionally bump his toe, signalling that this isn’t right. Things aren’t where they’re supposed to be. His head spins just the slightest bit and he feels woozy, but he doesn’t know why.

Jaehyun just feels off.

Jaehyun checks the bulletin board of his school auditorium almost religiously.

Each time before and after class, he’ll swing by and peruse the flyers that hang from haphazardly stuck on pins. He ignores the tutoring offers and the part time jobs scams, his main focus is almost always on the center of the board where they post the upcoming musical theatre production and eventually, the cast list.

This semester, the chosen production is La La Land and Jaehyun has been dead set on landing the role of Sebastian Wilder. He stays back extra late each day to practice the script and to work on his singing and annunciation.

On the day of the audition, he’s sure he’s nailed it and thinks to himself the world must be ending if he weren’t to get the leading role.

When he leaves the auditorium in a rush, excitement flows through his veins and he drinks in the night air as a toast of victory. He’s tipsy on his excitement and wants to laugh out loud, but in the corner of his vision, he sees you. Your eyes light up the sight up, outshining the moon and the stars, but your visage does not elicit the reaction he thinks it should. He expects his heart to swell and burst, but somehow he feels heavy.

He pulls you in for a hug and a quick kiss to quell his weighted heart, but he thinks he’s starting to sink so he calls you off for the night. He’ll see you next time.

Yeah, next time will be better.

You’re snuggled up close and personal on Jaehyun’s chest. Jaehyun notices you fill every nook and cranny of his being perfectly to a tee, and yet that feeling. It’s there again.

Jaehyun feels off.

You laugh at something one of the characters say and you cuddle harder into him. He feels heavy again and it makes his throat itch, so he swoops down and captures your lips.

It’s hard and fast to scrub away at his uneasiness and before he knows it, his clothes are missing, but so are yours. The foreplay is brief and almost impersonal, but he doesn’t care. He just needs to be inside you.

When Jaehyun has you begging and writhing, he feels like the world is where it should be. No longer is he living at a slight angle when he’s buried to the hilt inside your warmth, so when he sees you, he does what he can to get you out of your pants.

Today is no different from any other.

After a satisfying session you roll on his chest. Your kiss is soft and sweet despite the sweat that covers both of your bodies. He hums quietly as he taps melodies on along your exposed spine.

“Jaehyun?”

“Yeah?”

“I think I love you.”

Ah. Jaehyun thinks he’s getting it now, why he’s feeling off.

Jaehyun thinks he’s being suffocated.

To the surprise of no one, and especially not to him, Jaehyun gets the leading role of Sebastian Wilder in La La Land. He was a shoe-in for it anyway and he made sure to put in the work to get it.

His leading lady is someone by the name of Park Sooyoung, but at the first rehearsal she introduces herself as Joy.

“It’s nice to meet you.” She offers her hand out in a friendly greeting. “Here’s to a successful show together, Jaehyun.”

Her smile is blinding and he thinks Joy is a fitting name. He grasps her outstretched hand, grip firm and sure.

“Yeah,” he smiles back. “Here’s to a good show together.”

Rehearsals span over blurred minutes and long hours.

Jaehyun sees less and less of you and spends more and more time with her.

During a quick water break, he scans his phone briefly to see a text notification from you. He takes another swig of water and returns to the rehearsal.

It’s okay, he can always text you back later.

9. Before U Go - TVXQ!

letting go.

“I will leave now.”

“Come on!” You tug both Mark and Yeri along excitedly. “I want to get good seats.”

Yeri rolls her eyes, but obliges anyway, pulling Mark along. It’s opening night for Jaehyun’s big musical and you wanted to be there no matter what to support him. Johnny, Doyoung, Taeyong, Sicheng, and Seulgi are already inside waiting and you’re not sure if they were able to save the three of you a spot.

After a long chat with Yeri, you apologized profusely to her. You did get blinded by your relationship with him and prioritized him over everything, forgetting your friends and other responsibilities in the process. Yeri forgave you easily and helped keep you in line when you went to head over heels for Jaehyun.

However, after patching things up with Yeri, you begin to notice a shift in your relationship with Jaehyun’s. You’re not quite sure how to describe it, but it almost feels like a distance almost.

You chalk it up to his busy rehearsal schedule and choose not to dwell on the topic, in fears of your wandering imagination. It should be fine. After his musical is over, he’ll be less busy and things will fall back into place.

Right?

“Over here!” Seulgi waves over excitedly.

The auditorium is starting to fill up and you want to get comfortable before the show starts.

Everyone greets each other in hushed tones and soon enough, the show starts.

Right. Everything will be fine.

Jaehyun does amazing.

Your eyes are trained on him the whole time and his singing has goosebumps pricking your skin. You can see the passion pour through him every time he’s on stage and you couldn’t be more proud.

A nagging feeling at the pit of your stomach points out the undeniable chemistry between him and his co-star, but you push it deep down and suppress it.

They’re actors, and they’re good at what they do.

Yeah. They’re just acting. Yeah. Acting.

When the curtains close, you’re the first to shoot out of your seat, eager to meet him backstage. You weave through the endless crowd of people, murmuring your ‘sorry’s’ and ‘excuse me’s’ as you pass by. You reach the base of the backstage and shoot a message to let him know you’re waiting. You hum to yourself when you happen to overhear a conversation playing out.

“You did so good, Jae.”

“No, you definitely carried the show.”

You turn up and you see them. Her eyes are almost soft and loving as she pulls your boyfriend in for a hug. They linger in the embrace longer than necessary and you clear your throat to catch his attention.

He jolts just the slightest bit when he sees you and immediately lets her go.

“Everyone’s waiting,” you say quietly.

“Okay,” he nods. “Let me go get my stuff in the back.”

Jaehyun leaves the two of you alone and you wait for him to get back.

When you leave, he waves goodbye to her and she smiles back.

Jaehyun’s celebration party is rowdy, but it’s to be expected when Johnny is the one hosting.

He books a table at the local club and even orders bottle service. The eight of you work your way through two whole bottles of tequila and are already on your third. Jaehyun is downing the shots at a quicker pace than usual and you’re a bit concerned, but you’re unable to say anything because when you try, he whisks himself away to the dance floor and strikes up a conversation with someone else.

You’re perturbed, but you say nothing. This is his celebration night and he can choose to enjoy it how he wishes.

By the end of the night, Jaehyun is noticeably drunk and you haul him outside to get a breath of fresh air in hopes of sobering up. He’s heavy, but you make it out the side door. You prop him up on your side as you lean on the grimy brick walls.

Months have passed and the weather is chilly.

Jaehyun’s body sways and he murmurs something in your ear. You don’t catch it the first time, the overwhelming smell of tequila overtaking your senses.

“What was that?”

He grumbles beneath his breath, steps staggering once more. He tries again, this time his words are crisp and clear and they cut into you in more ways than one.

“I think we should end it.”

For someone so drunk, he sounds so sober.

You’re at a loss for words. A part of you knew this was coming from his lack of enthusiasm around you and his decreased texts. Even the cold night air couldn’t keep your heartbreak at bay. You say nothing, but you understand the both of you knew it was a silent agreement.

You breathe out wisps of chilled air as Jaehyun’s inebriated body stays slumped over on your side.

You volunteer to take Jaehyun home.

You tuck him gently in bed making sure to prop him on his side in case he vomits during the night. You pour a glass of water and place an ibuprofen on his nightstand drawer for him in the morning.

You kiss him on the forehead one last time. You hope it conveys all of the things brewing in your heart at the moment, but you know it doesn’t.

Later, you leave his apartment with all of your belongings that you ever left there with the stars as your witness.

You never return to his place again.

10. Coffee Shop by B.A.P

what could’ve been.

“So without knowing, like a habit, I came here.”

Jaehyun wakes up to an empty bed.

Morning sunlight streams through his blinds and burns at his skin as a sign to get ready for the day. He blinks the drowsiness from his system and stretches his weary joints before heading to the bathroom to get ready for the day.

On his rare day offs, he allows his body to go on auto-pilot. He completely shuts his brain off and allows it to do whatever it chooses.

Today, it takes him back to the cafe.

His body knows where it’s going before it registers in his mind.

The barista manning the order counter is different, but the decorations are the same, still the same succulents hanging from the ceilings. He mulls over the menu and goes up to order.

“Can I get an iced caramel latte?” Jaehyun doesn’t have much of a sweet tooth, but he’s feeling nostalgic today.

“Of course! Here’s your total.”

He pays with a swipe of his card and the barista goes to work making his drink. He waits around by the counter and soon enough, his drink is ready. That particular table is empty, so he grabs a chair to sit. His first sip is overly saccharine, but he appreciates how the flavor mellows out by the end of it.

It’s been nearly a year since that night.

Jaehyun remembers waking up to a splitting headache and a dry mouth. He thought nothing of the prepared setup as he gulps the ibuprofen and the glass of water in one go. Nothing seemed amiss really until a few days later.

No one mentioned your name around him and he caught Seulgi giving him a look every now and then. Mark didn’t say much either, but Jaehyun felt him drifting away.

He thought he’d feel a lot more, but he didn’t. One day you were a part of his life and then the next day you weren’t. It really was that simple.

He kept in contact with Joy even after La La Land was over and maybe they were something more, but it didn’t last longer than a few weeks.

It didn’t feel right when he was with her. Again, something felt off, but a different kind of off.

Joy was the one to end things with him, but he didn’t mind too much.

He filled his days with study and practice and it wasn’t until he landed a job at his local theatre company that he realized.

It was you. It was always you and perhaps it still is you.

Maybe you were different. Maybe you were the one, but Jaehyun didn’t try.

He recalls feeling smothered. You were always there at the beginning, but he took that for granted.

There are a lot of things he regrets, but above all, he regrets not talking with you. He regrets not trying to work on it. He regrets being a coward and running away at the first signs of true emotions.

You weren’t perfect, but neither was he, but he should’ve stayed so the both of you could work it out together. Jaehyun always did take too long to find the courage to pursue what he wanted.

With a final sip, he finishes the drink and moves to throw it away. Then, he sees you. Here, in the flesh, in almost a year.

Your hair is longer, but your cheeks are still as rosy as ever. You walk up to order and Jaehyun thinks it’s a sign. He moves to greet you, but the doors open again and in walk Yeri and Seulgi. He watches you greet them warmly with wide open arms.

You always did give the best hugs.

Jaehyun watches the three of you chatter away and he feels acutely out of place in the little cafe. You look happy and he should move on.

He throws his finished cup in the trash can and moves to exit through the side door, but he moves too slowly.

“Jaehyun, is that you?” You call out. He looks into your steady gaze and almost feels shy.

“Yeah,” he’s quiet. “It’s been awhile.”

“It has,” you agree. “You look well.”

The smile you give him has him believing in second chances and maybe he’ll get it right this time.

Note: i am so sorry that the second part is a hot mess express smh… there were a lot of things i planned and intended that didn’t happen, but i’ll just take this as a learning experience and write and better story next time. thanks for taking the time to read this !! <3

masterlist.

#nctcreations #cznnet #neowritingsnet #jaehyun scenario #jaehyun fanfic #jaehyun smut #jaehyun angst #jaehyun fluff #nct scenario #nct fanfic #nct smut #nct angst #nct fluff

790 notes · View notes

nanowrimo · 3 years

Text

5 Tips for Finishing Your Novel

April’s session of Camp NaNoWriMo is drawing to a close, and you might find yourself nearing the end of your novel. If you need some tips on writing and polishing the ending of your story, author Derek Murphy is here to share a few! Plus, you can check out the rest of our novel-finishing resources on our #NaNoFinMo page.

You won NaNoWriMo and have a 50k collection of scenes and sentences, but how do you clean it up and get it done? How do you make sure it’s finished, satisfying and enjoyable? Here are 5 powerful strategies for finishing your novel and some helpful writing tips that will push you past the finish line.

1. Give it a satisfying resolution.

In order to have a powerful story, your book should probably focus on a main character’s change or transformation. There’s an inner war, a.k.a. the character’s emotional healing, and an outer war: the conflict that forced the reckoning. If it’s a purely symbolic internal realization, you can mirror that with actual conflict in the real scene: the breaking of a dish, a fit of rage, a sudden ray of sunlight (or a storm… this should not be pleasant; It’s a breaking point and spiritual death/rebirth).

You can clarify the moment of change by setting up an illustrative contrast, a before and after, that shows how those internal changes have resulted in real-world consequences or benefits. Each character’s unique challenge will match their personal weakness or fear. The price for victory is the one thing they have so far refused to do, or something they cannot give up or bear to lose.

Make sure your protagonist has gone through a transformative struggle to arrive at deep insights, knowledge or awareness. Find a way to deepen the incidental scenes so that they become instrumental to a deeper purpose, leading towards an identity-shifting event.

The plot is what happens, and it’s important. But you can make it more dramatic and meaningful by making sure you demonstrate how hard it was and what it cost. It matters, it is remarkable, because it forced your protagonist to change.

Your conclusion might include:

Physical tension as allies perform a tug-of-war battle against resistance, that shows how difficult this struggle is, and how much force is required.

The consideration phase, as characters are tempted last minute or the price for victory is revealed: the sweet memories that give them awareness that this fight is worth the cost or risk (you need to show them making the choice, knowing what they will lose).

The final flashback, as the full backstory is revealed so we can see exactly why this conflict is so difficult or meaningful for the main character.

2. Add (unresolved) conflict.

Your story is made up of the events and scenes, where something happens. Each new event will push the characters further into the plot. Slow scenes where nothing is really happening can be red flags, so the first thing to focus on is increasing conflict, drama, suspense and intrigue. This is what creates urgency. The full reveal, demonstrating why THIS challenge is so difficult and powerful, should happen just before the final battle or resolution.

You want to make sure every scene, especially in your conclusion, has enough conflict. I recommend these three:

Outer Conflict (threats): Challenges or obstacles that prevent the character from achieving goals.

Inner Conflict (doubts): Moral struggles, decisions, guilt or shame, anger.

Friendly Fire (betrayal): Strong disagreements between allies or supporting characters.

You want to extend and deepen the potential conflict, without resolving it too easily. The biggest destroyer of conflict is conversation: when your characters just sit around and talk to each other. Most conflict involves a lack of information, and a desire for clarity. A lot of conflict is perceived or imagined.

The most important information needs to come last, and come at a great price. The information that has an emotional impact, and influences their actions and decisions, should be big reveals at dramatic peaks. A surprise or twist should be treated as an event: each scene is leading towards a change or new piece of information that provokes the protagonist to respond.

3. Fill plot holes with character motivation.

After you’ve made sure that “what actually happens” is intriguing (opening questions and raising tensions without resolving them) you can focus on making sure the plot holes are filled, and characters are properly motivated – these two things are usually adjacent.

You can find and fill plot holes by asking:

Why are the characters doing this?

Why does any of it matter?

Basically, readers need to respect the main characters enough to care what happens to them, so their choices and actions need to make sense within the given information. If there’s a simpler, easier solution, readers will get stuck up on “why didn’t they just…”? To fix plot holes and gaps in logic or continuity, or make the story go where you need it to, you can add urgency, fix the mood of the scene (bigger stakes require bigger justifications), show characters in a weakened mental state, or raise concerns but have them dismissed, with an excuse or justification.

You need rational characters to make plausible choices that lead to dire consequences. You need show why they don’t do something easier, or nothing at all, or why they face clear challenges, despite potential obstacles.

They’ll also require a deeper motivation, for why they’re willing to put themselves in identity-destroying conflict, rather than just giving up or running away. Why do they stay in THIS fight, when they’ve run from similar ones? If they weren’t ready at the beginning, why are the ready now – what changed in them, as a result of your story’s journey?

Your protagonist needs to have a strong, consistent internal compass, and it needs to be revealed through incidents that establish their character. This is who they are. Without this reliable core identity, we won’t be able to tell a story that forces them to change.

4. Let readers picture your story with detailed description.

In the final stages of revision, you can begin improving the description with specific details.

It’s smart to start – or end – a chapter with a vivid, immediate scene. You want to leave readers with an image they can see in their minds, hopefully connected to the feeling you aim to evoke. You can close a chapter with a reference back to a motif or image, with a deeper or more reflective context; applying meaning to the metaphor. This will help readers feel engaged, be moved, and leave a lasting impact.

Vivid scenes are mostly a matter of detailed description, so add the specifics about the story environment. Be precise, not vague. Instead of “she put a plate of tea and snacks on the table” you can write “she gently placed an antique porcelain teapot on the table. I could smell it was Earl Grey from the scent of bergamot. The half-sleeve of Oreos and can of onion-flavored Pringles seemed incongruous with the fancy dishes, but I knew she was making an effort to welcome me.”

Focus on the sensations and feelings; but also zero-in on any potential sources of conflict or internal emotions or states of mind. In my example above, the host might be nervous or ashamed of her spread; or perhaps she has a degenerative brain disease and doesn’t notice the incongruity. Tensions are unspoken, potential sources of negative feelings. They hover in the background of your description.

Readers will remember the pictures you put in their heads, not the words on the page.

Description should serve and be bound to the story, not distract from it.

It should be squeezed into and around the scene action, when the protagonist is using or exploring.

Show what’s different, not what’s the same.

Leave space for readers to fill in the gaps, but get them started in the right direction so they aren’t surprised later.

Sidenote: be careful about your metaphors, analogies and similes. Each one will put a picture into readers’ minds, and it can quickly get overcrowded with imagery. You’re asking them to ignore your real scene and think of something else. Use them to confirm and amplify the scene you have, and limit distractions.

5. Prepare to publish.

Typos are bad, but perfectionism will ruin you. This section is about editing and proofreading, but I don’t have time for all that, and you don’t either. The real problem with a story is rarely the number of typos. A very clean book isn’t better if people stop reading.

You can solve a lot of common writing problems, with my big list of 25 common writing mistakes, and self-edit your manuscript to make it as good as possible. After that, a copyeditor or proofreader isn’t always the best investment (and it can also be the biggest publishing cost).

Instead, use an editing software (I like Grammarly) to root out obvious mistakes, but don’t dwell on the small stuff like perfecting every word or rearranging the commas. Spending a very long time wrestling a poorly-written manuscript in shape is less effective than getting something (actually) done to the point where you’re comfortable sharing it.

This may be difficult at first, but you can’t learn and improve without genuine reader feedback (from people who aren’t your mom or best friend; nor the short-sighted opinions of a self-proclaimed literature enthusiast). You need to find readers who enjoy your particular genre, and the sooner you find them, the more valuable feedback you can get.

Shorten the feedback loop: Get over the fear and focus on learning by getting feedback early and often. However, this doesn’t just mean joining a writer’s club: writers are brutal and might focus on trivial things. The safest bet is to make it public, on Wattpad at least. Or get a cheap cover and throw it up on Kindle, Draft2Digital or even your own blog.

Making it public is scary and vulnerable, but it’s better than letting the fear of messing up keep you from the brutal, necessary experience of allowing readers to tell you what they liked and disliked about your writing. Will some people be critical? Yes! But guess what, you’ll get negative reviews even if you’re a brilliant, famous writer. Those are inevitable. And the first negative reviews may teach you more about writing than 10 years attempting to self-edit, afraid of putting your book out into the world.

PS. You can use resources, like my 24-chapter plot outline, as a way to spot story gaps in your manuscript and improve the structure (especially if your book suffers from a “soggy middle.)

Derek Murphy has a PhD in Literature, writes urban fantasy and is the founder of the alliance of young adult authors. More recently, he’s started sharing writing tips on http://www.writethemagic.com

Top photo by Adegbenro Emmanuel Dipo on Unsplash.

#nanowrimo #camp nanowrimo #nanofinmo #writing advice #writing tips #finishing a novel #by nano guest #derek murphy

145 notes · View notes

where-theres-smoak-2 · 3 years

Note

I also find it ironic that Eric said in that podcast that Alina had a bigger group of people she cares about and is more optimistic when that’s actually the case with Aleksander? I mean the centuries of death and persecution have hardened him sure but if he still wasn’t in some ways idealistic he would have used the Fold to destroy their enemies and rule Ravka probably a long time ago. He’s sacrifises and flight over and over so other Grisha can have basic human rights. Alina on the other hand claims to know how cruel the world can be but it seems like she only cares about her and M*l’s suffering and is indifferent to others(hello other Grisha and Genya especially that scene where Alina guilt tripped her was disgusting)and I can’t believe the writers thought it was a good idea to put it there. Like she herself says how them having just each other was more than enough and accepting she’s Grisha would be a betrayal to herself and how M*l sees her yet we’re supposed to root for them and see Aleksander as a villain? What a seriously broken narrative the books and the show have.

Yeah I remember that podcast and I think what they were trying to say was that Aleks only cared about the grisha whilst Alina cares about the grisha and the ravkans as she grew up thinking she was otkazat'sya. Which I actually disagree with because I actually, particularly in the books, didn't feel like she cared that much about the grisha. I will say that I think she does have more care of them in the show but the way I saw it was they both care about everyone but Aleks prioritises the grisha over the otkazat'sya and Alina is the other way round and prioritises the otkazat'sya over the grisha. I don't agree at all with the claim that Aleks only cared about the grisha because what I saw on screen contradicted that. Multiple times we see him say that he wants to make things better for the grisha and for ravka, in his impassioned speech to Alina in the tent in ep 7 he says everything he's ever done has been to 'make grisha safer, to make ravka safer.' So he is including both groups in this. We also know that he has worked together with the First Army on supply runs and not only has his fabrikators made faster, safer skiffs for the First Army to cross the fold but he also provides his grisha soldiers as protection for them and to drive those skiffs, so its not like he has no care at all. Also at the end of the day Aleks is the Second Army General so his job is to protect and provide for the Second Army not the First. It's the First Army General's job to provide for the First Army soldiers so I'm not sure why the narrative seems to blame Aleks for the state the First Army is in and how the Second Army has better uniforms and food that isn't rationed. Of course Aleks is going to prioritise his soldiers over the First Army it's his job to.

I do think in the past Aleks had a lot more optimism than now as you said time and loss has hardened him and I think he is now more willingly to make harder and harsher decisions than he was in the past. Whereas Alina to me does have more optimism or at least more of an idealistic view, she's much more naive I think and hasn't had those harsh life lessons that Aleks has had that I think make him more of a realist. I mean Aleks is still holding on to that dream of a better safer world for Grisha and as you said if he wasn't at least partly idealistic he likely would have overthrown the crown and ruled Ravka himself a long time ago so it is telling that he hadn't done that. I do also think this shows that him overthrowing the monarchy wasn't a move made out of greed or hunger for power as some suggest. He did it as a last resort when he realised that whilst they were in power things for the Grisha would not improve.

I do think it often comes across like Alina only cares about M*l and her attitude of if I pretend I'm not grisha so I can stay with M*l just the fact that we are together will be enough is very problematic. I do think she does care about the fate of the grisha in the show and as the show goes on I do hope we'll see her become more involved in their issues and politics of the world but I also think she would put M*l above everyone else whereas Aleks would always put his people and their greater good above everyone else.

As for the scene with Genya I think its a complicated one. I actually liked the scene between them and I thought it was very heartbreaking and both ladies did an amazing job acting it out. Obviously I don't agree with what Alina said to Genya about having to fight to survive and how that wasn't an excuse. But I also think at the time Alina was in a really really bad place. I mean she had fallen for Aleks and then found out he was the black heretic, had the collar forced on her by him so she was already feeling very betrayed and violated by someone she cared deeply for and who she believed cared deeply for her. Then she learns about Genya's betrayal and so I think because it was one on top of the other she just wasn't thinking clearly and was obviously very upset and probably felt like her whole world was falling apart around her, one by one she was losing all those connections she made at the LP, I think she was struggling to know who to trust and how to recognise when someone was telling the truth and when they were lying, she's trying to makes sense of everything that is happening but isn't getting a satisfactory answer to any of it, so I do think it was a case of saying the wrong thing when you are upset and I do think Alina does recognise Genya's suffering which is why she then says that the king deserves Genya's vengeance but that Aleks doesn't deserve her loyalty. But she isn't as sympathetic as she could have been and I think that is largely because she feels like everyone she knows and cares about is betraying her and its an unfortunate side effect of being human that sometimes when you yourself are in pain it can made it harder to recognise and sympathise with another person's pain because you are so knocked out by your own, if that makes sense. However the beauty of that scene is I could also 100% see where Genya was coming from and why she did what she did, as she said she didn't have the luxury of being a loyal friend when she was trying so desperately to survive and you can see her heartbreak at the fact that her friend doesn't seem to understand that and I actually think its a very similar scene to the one between darklina later in the episode where you can see that Genya much like Aleks is desperately trying to make Alina understand. I think this is where Alina not growing up as grisha really causes that gap in understanding because whilst Alina knows what its like to face persecution for being half Shu and feeling like an outsider she doesn't really understand the level of persecution the grisha experience, she just hasn't been grisha long enough to fully understand how complicated it is and how their safety relies entirely on how useful they are to a monarchy that honestly couldn't give two hoots about them and just uses them for their own gain.

As for rooting for M*lina as oppose to the darkling all I'll say on that is I think its very telling that the majority of the fandom does seem to root more for the darkling so clearly something went wrong in the telling of the story if such a large number of people are rooting for your villain instead of your heroes.

#answered #the darkling #aleksander morozova #alina starkov #anti malina #genya safin

39 notes · View notes

fallingstarnovel · 3 years

Text

Chapter One

Evan Golightly didn't consider himself an unlucky kind of guy. It wasn't like he was wandering around winning the lottery, but he also wasn't getting hit by chunks of blue ice from the sky from a passing airplane.

This week was just like every other week he had experienced so far. As he walked to his lecture across the university campus, he saw the same people he usually did and went to the same places as always. He didn't step on any cracks in the pavement, and he didn't walk under any ladders. He didn't find any four leaf clovers either, and he didn't have a lucky rabbit's paw on his key chain. He had a coffee cup in his hand – medium sized, not big and not small.

He was a little late, because he had stopped to pet a black cat that lay on the pavement in front of him, but that was okay. The lecturer was very forgiving, and most people were a few minutes late anyway due to a clash in timetabling.

Evan couldn't remember if seeing a black cat was good luck or bad luck. As the kitty purred and rubbed itself up against his fingers, he couldn't help but smile and talk to it quietly.

"Oh, you like that? You like the scritches? You're so handsome, such a handsome boy..."

Someone behind him coughed disapprovingly. A little embarrassed at getting caught, Evan straightened up and kept walking, forgetting all about whether black cats were lucky or not.

As he approached the building where his lecture was held, Evan started climbing the concrete steps up to the entrance.

If luck could be charted on a bell curve, with some people being extremely lucky, and some being extremely unlucky, then Evan considered himself to be slap bang in the middle. If he entered the lottery, he might win one of the smallest prizes, but not very often. If he got onto a crowded bus, there would be a seat available, but not a very good one. If he chose answers at random on a test, he would get a 50% grade at the end.

There was a meow from down by his feet. The black cat was following him. It had big green eyes which were staring at him as it meowed again.

"I'm sorry, I would love to play with you, but I'm late," Evan said. He knew the cat didn't understand, but he still felt like being polite.

The cat meowed very loudly and then started walking in between Evan's feet as he climbed the stairs. He started to worry that he was going to trip, slowing down and trying to shoo it away with his foot. It meowed again, but ran away, standing at a distance and staring at him.

Evan had always been weak for cute things. He bit his lip. "Ahh, I'm sorry! Wait until my lecture finishes, I'll come back and give you scritches then!"

He was almost at the top of the stairs now. Evan turned away from the cat – only to see a small black shadow out the corner of his eye down by his sneakers. He felt something brush against his leg, and then he tripped over something, and before he knew what was happening, he was falling backwards down the stairs.

Evan let out a sharp cry, his arms windmilling around him as he went into freefall.

Not the stairs... not the stairs! This was why he hated stairs! He always knew they would kill him one day!

Before he could fall any further and roll down the stairs and smash like a boiled egg, he felt someone grab his arm and hold him still. His bag hit the ground and his coffee cup went flying, bouncing down the steps and spilling coffee everywhere, but Evan...

Evan was being held up at the top of the stairs by a strong, sure grip.

He looked around in surprise. Holding his arm was a smiling youth with curly blond hair, tumbling in cherubic whorls around his ears. The youth looked just as shocked, his eyes big and wide as he stared at Evan. As he stopped Evan from falling.

There was a moment of silence. The youth pulled Evan forward onto the flat ground at the top of the steps, and let go.

"You..." Evan said in a rush. "You saved me! Thank you so much, I thought I was a goner..."

The youth hesitantly smiled back, his eyes flickering down the stairs. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, I just tripped on a–" Evan said, gesturing to the cat.

The cat was no longer there. It had disappeared.

"... Huh. Guess I tripped on nothing. Um, thanks. Oh, man, my coffee..."

The youth picked up Evan's bag and handed it over to him. His eyes were wide, like he was recovering from a sudden shock. "Sorry. I'll buy you a new one."

"Don't worry about it, it was my fault," Evan said with a laugh. "I owe you for saving me. I should buy you a coffee!"

The youth looked at Evan. He couldn’t help but notice that his eyes were light grey, bright and cold, crinkling at the corners in a warm smile. "There's no need to thank me. You don't owe me a thing."

Evan had heard those two sentences before many times in his life. He had heard it from friends who had done him a favour, and from customer service workers who helped him get a discount for his broken laptop, and from the nice woman in the corner shop who sent his mom flowers when she heard his grandfather had died.

They had always been said with varying levels of sincerity. A lot of people said "no need to thank me", but secretly wanted to be thanked very much. If you didn't thank them, they wouldn't help you in the future. People were weird like that.

But when this guy said it, for some reason Evan understood that it was the absolute truth. Like it wouldn't matter if Evan thanked him or not – he would still help him.

Feeling a little flustered, Evan scratched the back of his neck. "Well, I have a lecture now, so I better... uh, you're sure you don't want a coffee afterwards?"

The youth seemed to think about it for just a second too long, before shaking his head. His smile was apologetic. "It's fine. Enjoy your lecture." He started walking away.

"Ah, uh, you too," Evan said in a panic, before quietly smacking his own face. He had no idea if the guy even had a lecture. Stupid, stupid, stupid...

The youth came to a stop. He slowly turned around, an angelic, apologetic smile on his face. "Actually, I'm a little lost. Could you tell me where room M42 is?"

"That's – that's where I'm going now! That's where my lecture is!" Evan gave him a wide grin. "Astro 228, right?"

The youth nodded. "Right."

"Just follow me, then. Huh... I didn't know we shared a class, sorry I didn't recognise you!"

"That's okay," the youth said quietly from behind him as they entered the lecture building together. "I tend to stay quiet."

Watery winter sun did its best to shine through the floor length windows of the lecture building. It shone off the back of Evan’s pale neck, the black hair that fell in every direction. It reflected off the otherboy’s grey eyes, making them seem more luminous, more pallid, as they watched Evan with keen, unwavering interest.

Evan walked slightly ahead to lead the way. "Well, I definitely won't forget you now. You saved my life! What's your name?"

The youth was quiet. Evan waited for an answer for an uncomfortably long time, before wondering if he had spoken too quietly. He was about to repeat the question when a soft voice from behind him said "Ruth."

Ruth? Wasn't Ruth a girl's name? Was this guy actually a girl? "Oh, Ruth? Ahh, that's a cool name."

"You don't think it's weird? That a guy has a girl's name?"

Oh, thank god, he didn't have to try and subtly ask awkward questions about pronouns. Maybe the guy was used to this kind of thing and anticipated the awkwardness. "No, I don't think so. As long as you like it, then that's all that matters. I'm Evan by the way."

The youth hummed. "I know."

Now Evan felt guilty. He didn't even remember seeing this guy around, but he remembered Evan's name. Ah, this was too bad. He would definitely make an effort to remember him now. "Well, here it is. Just in time–"

"Actually, you go ahead," Ruth said suddenly. "I need to use the bathroom."

Evan turned around and blinked at him. "Oh. Sure. I'll see you in a bit, then."

The youth nodded. He hesitated, before speaking again.

“It was nice to talk to you.”

He gave Evan one last beatific smile, before walking away and disappearing around the corner. Evan quietly let himself into the lecture and scurried to the back, mouthing "sorry" at the lecturer, who ignored him.

He made sure to keep the seat next to him free for Ruth even as other students trickled in.

The lecturer coughed several times to get the attention of the class.

"So, last week I opened the lecture with the following quote: God does not play dice with the universe. This is oft quoted and attributed to Einstein himself in a letter to a friend criticizing what he saw as the unacceptable flaw in quantum mechanics, that is, the possibility of unpredictable random events on a molecular level. In many ways, he was right. We have been learning how to chart the movement of objects in a vacuum – predicting the orbits of distant planets and stars around the insatiable black holes that are, themselves, in a perpetual state of movement. I know that most of you have grasped the basics of this particular module very quickly. Predictability is a magnetic lure – one gets lulled into the false sense of security knowing that we can work out the trajectory of some far flung meteor to a high degree of accuracy. As if space can be imagined as some unfathomably large clock, each cog in place, every heavenly body caught in an eternal, rational, predictable waltz to the swing of a baton that, if only we have the numbers, might one day understand the rhythms of. If you turn your attention to the notes we made on how you can work out the speed of rotation of a planet..."

Evan tried very hard to concentrate and make notes. There was always a buffer at the start of the class where this particular lecturer went on a long tangent about random things he thought were interesting, and he usually zoned out through them, but once the actual maths was brought in, there was no possibility of daydreaming and letting it slip by. If you missed anything, you ended up being more confused down the line when the more complicated stuff got brought in.

The poor girl next to him was doomed. She fell asleep almost immediately, and Evan lit a candle in his mind for her. RIP your grades, you snoozy bitch. At the same time, he was envious. Why couldn’t he take a nap instead of doing work?

He tried to concentrate, but all through the lecture, Evan couldn't help but keep looking at the doorway, wondering when Ruth was going to appear. How long did it take to use the bathroom? Did the poor guy have a stomach upset?

By the time the lecture was over, Evan had accepted that Ruth wasn't going to appear. He lit a candle in his heart for the guy's bowel system. Clearly, he had been having some kind of toilet trouble and decided to skip the lecture.

What a shame. He seemed so... interesting.

After the lecture was over, Evan slowly clambered out of his seat. The lecturer had set a bunch of exercises to do at home, and the library was calling for a study session. Time to shuffle into Tesco to get a £3 meal deal and sit down for several hours to pound his brain into submission!

"Hey, Evan," someone called out as they left the lecture. "Evan, wait up!"

There was a girl chasing after Evan. She had warm brown skin and an infectious smile, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

"Oh, sorry Aliya," he said, slowing down so she could catch up. "Did you enjoy the lecture?"

Aliya pouted. "No, are you insane? Enjoy it? Why did I do an astrophysics course again? There's so much maths. I genuinely think I would drop out if I didn't think my mum would kill me."

Evan nodded in agreement. "Sometimes I think about switching to an art degree instead. I won't do it. But I just think about it sometimes."

"Wait, wait, I wanted to ask you something," Aliya said, slapping his arm lightly. "House party. I've been invited, but I don't want to go alone. It's a bunch of people I don't know very well, and..."

Evan rolled his eyes. "If you don't know them, why are you going?"

"Because I don't know how to say no!" Aliya moaned. "It's a pretty casual thing, don't worry. You know I don't drink, so I'll probably be dipping early. Please? Please please please? Please just come for a little while, just to keep me company..."

Evan wasn't a prude. He liked a good party. The thing was that he liked a good party with people he knew. "And I don't know anyone there?"

"Probably not, they're all from netball club. But hey – you'll know me!"

"I don't know you. Who are you. Why are you following me."

"Evaaaaan. Please! I'll do anything."

There was a long silence as they exited the lecture building together. Evan watched the students stream out of the building on their way to other classes, or the library, or their rooms to go back to sleep.

He wasn't exactly great at making friends. Aliya was the only person on his course that he talked to regularly. It was why he was pretty excited to get to know Ruth, except he disappeared, so that was a bust. He tried a few clubs and societies, but none of them had really clicked so far.

He hadn't been to a party in ages. He was wasting the best years of his youth in university, and he wasn't even going to parties. What was the point? He was living like a grandpa and he was only twenty one!

He wasn't an old man yet! He didn't have a pension! He still liked electronic music!

Maybe this was the chance Evan needed to make new friends. How hard could it be?

"Sure, why not."

Aliya cheered. "Yay! Thank you, big guy. I owe you one. Oh, wow, watch your feet, it looks like someone spilled their coffee down the stairs... haha, poor them..."

Contents | Next Chapter

#chapter

58 notes · View notes

itsclydebitches · 3 years

Text

Its Own Reward

Fandom: The Bad Batch

Words: 2,098

Summary: If, at times of unseemly emotional vulnerability, Tech found himself longing for the one thing The Bad Batch didn’t have... well, that was between him and his overactive mind, thank you very much.

Warnings: Mentions of blood/injury later on, but very minor

A clone's favorite game, in the whole wide galaxy, was Picture Your General.

Picture your general in the heat of battle, lightsaber flashing, tearing through Separatist forces with the intensity of a Kaminoan storm.

Picture you general in the aftermath, entering a meditative state, calming the battalion with their mind alone.

Picture your general giving an order and you, standing tall, accept it with pride. Picture yourself as their right-hand man. Their greatest asset. The tool that will win this war.

Of course, at this stage one brother or another would point out the flaws in the fantasy. "Only a few of us will ever speak to them," they'd say. "You're not making Captain. Commander? Dream on. And watch the arrogance, vod. We're important, sure, but we're disposable too. No one is going to mourn us when we fall, certainly not a Jedi."

From there they would either grow quiet in discomfort, or pummel the offender with whatever was in reach, depending on the makeup of the group. No matter the outcome though, the game would inevitably repeat just a few hours later, picked up by everyone from the youngest cadet, to soldiers a day from their first assignment. Every clone in existence wanted to picture their general; imagine up a person worthy of the Kaminoans' stories and, though shared with more reservations, imagine the place they'd find at their side.

Every clone, that is, but Tech.

Well, he supposed Hunter, Wrecker, and Crosshair might be the same, but that was a hypothesis he hadn't tested yet. Out of everything Tech still needed to learn, that was rather low on his priority list. Meanwhile, spending time on a useless game was downright foolish. Oh, he had nothing against games on their own — they fostered a number of desirable outcomes, including, but far from limited to, a social comradery that would serve them well in battle — but this game, Picture Your General, had nothing to offer him. For the simple reason that Tech would never have one.

It was a fact the Regs took great pleasure in pointing out. Frequently.

"Ignore them," Crosshair said, stealing an extra ration off Tech's tray. History implied that he wasn't actually that hungry, merely interested in teasing Wrecker with the extra food. He'd pretend to save it for most of the night until, inevitably, handing it off as a grudging, midnight snack. Crosshair played with the food, but Tech knew his attention was on the rowdy group to their left. "They're not worth it."

Given that it was just the two of them, Tech allowed himself a scowl, snatching the ration back. He had nothing against Wrecker receiving additional food, especially given his fast metabolism, but it was the principal of the thing. This was his. "Says the man who instigated four altercations this week."

"I like riling them up." The food moved back to Crosshair's side of the table. "You don't."

"You're mistaken. I take great pleasure in correcting our less cordial brothers. Though their initial claim is sound, the reasons for why we will not be assigned a Jedi are erroneous in the extreme."

"You mean that we're useless, unwanted defects who don't deserve to lick a Jedi's boots?"

"While I wouldn't have phrased it quite like that... yes. It's factually incorrect."

"Hmm. Your face doesn't say 'factually incorrect.'"

"That's because you're stealing my food!"

"You're mistaken," Crosshair mimicked, this time stuffing the ration deep into his pocket where Tech didn't have a hope of reclaiming it. "Ignore them."

Tech rarely denied himself the chance to speak at length on any topic he pleased, but this time he bit down on the retort that he literally could not. The Kaminoans had ensured that he picked up and payed attention to everything around him, even what he didn't want to hear.

Still, clones were nothing if not adaptable and very little in this galaxy was black and white. The very thing Tech craved was also evidence of his greatest joy: the rest of his squad. They weren't made for a Jedi, they were made for each other. The Regs might have seen that as another defect, but Tech understood the inevitability of balance. If he wanted something as remarkable as his team, he had to give up something else in turn.

Like the knowledge that someone else, anyone else, was fighting for them. To the Kaminoans they were property. Expensive and prized property, no doubt, but even the most beautiful tool would be discarded in time. To the other clones they were outsiders, a blight on everything else they took pride in. And to the Jedi they were... non-existent. Or near enough, Tech supposed. When called to assist a battalion they usually did so on the outskirts, getting into the enemy territory their brothers couldn't negotiate, leaving for the next suicide mission by the time they'd caught up. It resulted in a reputation that was, ironically, quite uniform, given their otherwise individualistic looks and personalities. The Bad Batch was a team of four who did what other clones couldn't. That's all the Jedi needed to know; presumably wanted to know. And Tech could hardly fault them for that when in the midst of a war. Like him, they had much more important matters to occupy their thoughts.

That naïve indifference — an inability to be seen — might have been bearable if Tech hadn't accumulated such a clear picture of them. Oh yes, much of it came down to his academic nature, scrolling through datapads in the dead of night, soaking up information about anything, but especially that which was so crucial to the war... but there were stories too. The GAR was full of them. Whereas cadets played Picture Your General, soldiers spoke of the real thing, at times even more fantastical than their imaginings. Whispers spread through the ranks of Master Obi-Wan's compassion, claims that he fought for clones on and off the battlefield, giving as much respect as he demanded in turn. His former Padawan was, they said, as much a vod as any of them, prone to establishing an equality based on practical jokes and near-death situations — the kind of insanity clones were genetically predisposed to enjoy. There was talk that Unduli welcomed every soldier into her ranks with a Mirialan ritual, that Windu was fighting for clone rights in the Senate, even jokes that Plo Kloon had millions of adoption papers ready and waiting for the war's end... utter nonsense that last bit, of course. Yet every time Tech scoffed at a Reg's unseemly devotion, an awful little voice in the back of his head pointed out that the jokes had to stem from something. One did not craft rumors about a Jedi's kindness unless they had done quite a bit to establish it in the first place.

Tech didn't need kindness, only assurances. Bonds with the Jedi provided his brothers with a connection outside of the Kaminoans. They were building a network, however small, for the day this war ended. The Jedi Council would fight for the clones, Tech was sure of that... but would they fight for a shadowy, defective squad they knew little about? Their place in this galaxy began with each other and ended with the occasional, dubious acquaintance of Hunter’s. That was not enough to survive on and Tech cared only about such practical matters.

At least, that’s what he told himself for a time, but it wasn’t in Tech’s nature to dismiss facts. Like how once Master Shaak Ti had laid a hand on his arm after training, bestowing a smile and words of praise that Tech later kicked himself for missing, too busy being disgustingly flummoxed by the attention. That warmth, gifted three different ways, stayed with him long after they'd left their simulations behind, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't rationalize it away as planning for the future.

Tech wanted a Jedi of his own. He simply... wanted.

In time those feelings didn't abate, but they were buried under an avalanche of new ones which, from a technical standpoint, he supposed amounted to much the same. After Kaller, Tech had lost his purpose in serving the Republic. Worse, he'd lost a member of his squad, even if he eventually got him back. Crosshair's presence now could no more lessen his past absence than food in one's hand could feed a starving man from yesterday. Tech's home was gone. The familiarity of his brothers' faces, even those twisted with cruelty, was something he craved. Everything from the rooms they'd once slept in to the smell of sterilized halls— all absent. So if Tech sometimes stared out at the stars and felt horrifyingly incomplete, who was he to say what that stemmed from? There were too many possibilities. The data was corrupted beyond repair and trying to divide what he'd lost from what the Kaminoans had denied him was an entirely useless endeavor. An experiment not worth his time.

Still, Tech was made of curiosity. His mind was always on the lookout for patterns and new information, whether he wanted it to be or not. In truth though, he figured that Omega's near death was an experience that would have stood out to anyone, genius not required.

Her screams were quite the conductor for one's focus.

"Shoot it! Shoot it!"

The order was for Crosshair, but Hunter couldn't see that he'd been knocked out by the krykna's last attack, one spindly leg the size of a cruiser slamming into his side. Hunter himself was trapped, hands scrambling to free his leg from the cave's crevice even as he yelled. Tech noted, in the dim way his mind noticed most things during a crisis, that he was now using his knife for leverage, cutting into his calf in the process, uncaring. Meanwhile, Wrecker was overwhelmed by the krykna's cluster, something about his size and boisterous nature attracting them like... well. Like kryknas to a clone. Echo was trying to help, but the planet's magnetic field had been messing with his prosthetics ever since they'd landed. Tech saw them both disappear under a small mountain of the creatures, yelling Omega's name all the while.

And Tech... he was running. Yes. He realized that now, legs pounding across the ground, heedless of the numerous arachnid bodies that crunched beneath his boots. He couldn't say that his attention was solely on Omega, her face now just inches from the krykna's pincers. It never was. Tech couldn't help but catalogue a hundred other observations as she neared death's door, most of them quite distressing. Like the difference in height between him and his brothers. Or his abysmal scores in sprinting back on Kamino. Omega was at least five meters away whereas the krykna, most assuredly, was not.

I'm going to lose another one, Tech thought as his next laborious pant turned into a sob. Probability proves it.

Thank the Maker his calculations were incomplete.

Later, the five of them would describe the sensation as akin to static electricity. Even Crosshair, unconscious, would say that he'd felt something passing along his skin, heedless of armor and all the more disconcerting for being... impossible. An impossible memory. Only Tech and Hunter saw it though, the moment when the krykna rose off the ground and flew, all five tons of it, slamming into the opposite wall where its skull caved in like an over-ripe fruit.

Omega sat with her little hand outstretched, looking just as dumbfounded as her brothers. When he finally reached her, Tech found evidence of the krykna's teeth on either side of her neck. They'd only just punctured the skin.

A moment of certain death, averted through instinct. Destiny? Perhaps some combination of the two.

"It's okay. You're okay. Omega, please breathe for me."

Tech was blessed — sometimes cursed — with an extraordinary memory, the ability to recall not just books' worth of information, but images in perfect clarity too. Superimposed over a sobbing Omega was a cadet from his youth. No one important. No one whose name Tech had bothered to learn, uninterested in remembering it against his will. But the boy's words had already been spoken.

"Kriff, maybe we're wrong, vod! Maybe the defect will get a Jedi. After all, don't they say the Force works in mysterious ways?"

An insult, a taunt, and now perhaps a speck of wisdom that Tech should have heeded. He pulled Omega into his arms, one gloved hand sinking into her curls, the other wrapping tight around her waist. He'd performed this gesture a hundred times before, but this time it felt like something slotted into place.

"There you are," Tech whispered and for now, he'd pretend that this was nothing more than a reassurance.

#TBB #The Bad Batch #TBB Fic #Tech #Omega #Crosshair #TBBfic #Star Trek #SW

23 notes · View notes

alpacaparkaseok · 4 years

Text

The Other Side

Part Two

Genre: KSJ Soulmate au

Warnings: none, it’s pure fluff with some emotional jazz I guess

Word Count: 8.8k

Yuri jams her body between me and the door, staring me down as I rattle the handle.

“You locked it!” I shout, seeing red. The door doesn’t budge as I continue to try to break out, the sounds of people shouting outside only spurring me on.

My friend gives me a stern look before nodding. “The door is locked, yes. It will stay like that until you get your heart rate under control. And you want to know how-”

“Yeah, whatever. Get it set up.”

I wave her off, Yuri laughing as I’ve come back to my senses a bit. She rummages through her bag before pulling out a handheld heart monitor. While she pulls a chair over I sink down to my knees, sitting against the door for support.

The second I lean against it, the door jolts. It would appear that Jin has finally arrived.

Yuri has a wide-eyed gaze as she watches the door shake. Jin’s voice rings out loud and clear as he comes to the realization that the door is indeed locked.

“Key. Now.”

Several voices answer him, but he pays them no heed.

“Who locked it.”

His voice is low and monotone, barely sheathing the sharpness that’s threatening to break free and cut down anyone in his path. Just the mere sound of it is enough to make my heart jump again, and I close my eyes against the stars in my vision.

Yuri notices and kneels before me, looping the heart monitor around my finger before lightly tapping my shoulder.

“The senior assistant is on his way, he’ll get Jin under control. For now, do you think you could tell him to calm down and put the heart monitor on?”

I know what she’s saying, but it still takes me a moment to wrap my mind around her words. Once I do, I take a deep breath and give her a shaky nod.

“Sure.”

Rising from the ground, I pause and beg the rational part of my brain to make an appearance. A wry smile cuts across my face.

“This is probably the worst first day ever.”

Yuri shrugs. “Or the best.”

Shaking my head, I knock lightly on the door. I have to do it a couple of times before it’s quiet enough out there for Jin to hear me.

When it’s quiet but nobody responds, I attempt to speak.

“Seokjin?” I wince at how informal I sound, but I’ll just have to dwell on the logistics of it all later on.

Footsteps draw nearer until they’re just before the door. “H-Haneul? Are you ok?”

My cheeks burn bright red as I realize that he remembered my name. “I’m fine, but I need you to do me a favor.”

“Anything,” he responds without a moment’s hesitation. “What do you need?”

Finding encouragement in Yuri’s proud smile, I close my eyes and lean my head against the door. “There should be another heart rate monitor in my bag; I left it in the other room. You need to put it on.”

“You...want me to leave and grab it?” There’s a note of panic in his voice which matches the hitch in my breathing as I think about Jin leaving.

“No! No, don’t leave.” I take a deep breath, fighting to remain in control of my senses. “Just have someone grab the bag and bring it back. Yuri said that the senior assistant will be up shortly - he’ll know what to do from there.”

I’m sure that there’s a crowd of people outside the door, because I hear several feet hurrying away. Despite hearing Jin’s obvious aversion to leaving, I still start to panic as I imagine him leaving.

What if he doesn’t come back? I mean, Bighit probably won’t want me for the job anymore, seeing that I’ve complicated everything. Maybe Jin’s disgusted with me and will just leave before word can get out that his soulmate is a soulmate assistant. My status alone would result in a PR disaster as is-

“Haneul?”

I didn’t even realize how hard I was pushing up against the door until I hear Jin’s voice on the other side. Head jolting up, I gulp down air to fill my empty lungs.

“Yes?”

Now that Jin has calmed down a bit, he sounds a bit timid. “They brought your bag back. Is it ok if I open it?”

“Oh.” The ghost of a smile flickers across my face. “Yeah, that’s fine. The monitor should be in the right outermost pocket.”

I listen intently as my bag is unzipped and Jin begins trying to work the heart monitor. A few people help him with it, while someone else says something about grabbing a chair. About a minute of silence passes before Jungkook’s timid voice rings out.

“Um...Miss Choi?”

“Yeah?”

“What is your heart rate at right now?”

Yuri holds the actual heart monitor, and she quickly consults it before answering. “Haneul’s is currently at 162, it appears to be dropping at a consistent rate. What’s Jin’s?”

Before Jungkook can answer, somebody else arrives. There are low voices consulting outside the door; one of them I recognize as Sejin. I’m about to start pounding on the door and demanding answers when the newcomer speaks up.

“Yuri, are you in there?”

Yuri jumps up. “I am. Is everything ok out there?” When I give her a questioning look, she mouths ‘senior assistant’ to me. I let out a long sigh, feeling a little relieved to know that someone legitimely qualified is out there with Jin.

“Jin is doing fine, however his heart rate is still abnormally high. Jungkook told me Miss Choi is coming down from 162. Is that still the case?”

“She’s down to 158 now, still dropping as it should.”

There’s a long pause before he speaks again. “It would appear that Seokjin here is having a harder time getting his heart rate under control. He’s stuck.”

If my heart wasn’t still beating so fast it would have probably spiked from the panic that sets in. Resting my hand on the doorknob as though it will magically unlock at any given second, I ask what I know I must.

“May I know what his heart rate is, sir?”

“You’re the soulmate?” He sounds a bit uncertain, but Yuri steps in before I decide to break down the door and strangle him.

“She is, but she’s also a highly trained central assistant. Haneul is in control of herself, there’s no need to worry.”

Yuri sounds firm enough that it leaves no room for argument. I make a mental note to buy her dinner or something after all of this blows over.

“Alright,” he sighs. “Seokjin is maintaining a heart rate of 198.”

I gasp before putting my hand over my mouth. “198?” I hiss, whirling to look at Yuri. She has a cool and calm expression on like a mask, but I can see right through her. I would be doing the same thing if I were her; but I’m not.

This is the moment I’ve been waiting for my entire life; it’s the moment I was just dreaming about last night! Yet I should have known that it wouldn’t be so easy. Not only is my soulmate one of the most recognizable idols in the world, he’s also experiencing what is commonly referred to as “stationary shock”.

In other words, Jin has something going on in his head or heart that has him staying in the initial wave of shock that usually only lasts the first 60 seconds.

Yuri is asking questions, but it sounds like she’s speaking underwater. While she’s doing her best to understand the situation, I ease the heart monitor from her hands and stare down at the numbers there.

Instead of continuing to decrease, my numbers remain the same as well. This is what I was expecting; Jin’s predicament directly affects my own. How can I relax when I know that he’s on the other side of that door in a state of shock, unable to calm down?

My feet carry me away from the door, wandering over to a nearby window. Standing before it, I notice with a start that it’s beginning to snow.

The clouds, heavy with water, have decided to gently let go of their burden.

Perhaps I’ve lost just enough sanity to start pondering the lives of nimbus clouds, because suddenly my mind is rushing with the possibilities of the clouds before me.

Just like that, my mind begins to race with all the information I’ve learned over the years about stationary shock. Usually the people who experience it are the same ones that have a history of anxiety when it comes to the topic of soulmates.

There’s a famous example of a couple from the 1960’s that had an encounter similar to anybody else’s; except for the fact that the woman's heart rate refused to come down. What usually takes fifteen minutes ended up going over the three hour mark.

Little things brought her heart rate down: talking to her friends, drinking water, and voicing her thoughts. However, what ended up being her saving grace was her soulmate who took matters into his own hands and talked her down. From their conversation soulmate specialists were able to deduce that she had major anxiety in regard to soulmates due to personal issues. It was only as she was able to open up to her actual soulmate that her heart rate was able to come back down and away from physical harm.

As I watch the snowflakes drift through the sky, I come to the root of it all.

“I have to make him snow,” I mumble. Turning around to where Yuri remains talking through the door, I wave to get her attention.

It takes her a moment, she’s clearly focusing hard on the issue at hand. The hint of a smile cracks her icy expression before she walks over to me.

“What’s up?”

“I think I have to make him snow.”

Yuri tilts her head to one side, looking at me quizzically. “Snow? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“He’s going through stationary shock, isn’t he?” Once she nods, I continue on in my plea. “Don’t you think this could be like that couple, you know, from the 60’s? We need to get him to snow...you know, open up. Let everything go.”

She hesitates, entertaining the idea for a moment. “First we need to go through the normal procedures; chances are the normal steps will bring him down a bit.” Yuri stops me before I can jump into action. “Everyone is bringing up different items for him to go through, Mr. Chung is having him drink some water and stretch right now. Let’s just see how that goes first, alright?”

I look at her incredulously. “Who on earth is Mr. Chung?!”

Yuri laughs, “The senior soulmate assistant, loser. So let’s just let him do his job before we try to pry the nasty truth from your soulmate, ok?”

Blushing madly at the casual way Yuri mentions my soulmate, I give her a reluctant nod. “Fine. But if he’s not better in ten minutes, everybody leaves and I get to do it my way.”

“Let’s say twenty.”

Glaring, I clench my jaw. “Fifteen.”

Yuri sighs before walking back over to the door. “I’ll see what I can do.”

☆

Focusing on the five senses is the first thing all soulmate assistants are taught to do when faced with stationary shock. It helps the person to calm down when they can focus on one thing at a time.

First: Sight.

“Ok Seokjin, my grandchildren have a horrible habit of making fun of how many crooked teeth I have,” Mr. Chung starts. He sounds ultra calm and soothing, I find myself sitting before the door again and being lulled into a calming state just by the sound of his voice. “I’m going to give you my best smile, please pay attention and tell me if my grandchildren are right.”

A few seconds pass before Jin says anything. “You have a lovely smile.”

“Thank you very much, that means a lot coming from an idol such as yourself. Shall we move on to the next step?”

Second: Sound.

“Would you like to listen to some music? Perhaps there’s a piece that helps you to think clearly-”

“No.” Jin’s voice is solid as he rejects the idea. “No music, please.”

Ok, scratch that.

Mr. Chung goes through the other senses, bringing up some tea for Jin to drink and taste, wafting smellings salts under his nose, even bringing up an RJ for him to hold and touch. We’re coming up on fifteen minutes when I give Yuri a knowing look.

“Yuri, Mr. Chung...this is crossing into dangerous territory,” I squeak out, trying to breathe properly. “I think it might be best to give Jin some space for a little while.”

Yuri stares at the door, waiting for Mr. Chung to speak. Holding my breath, I drop my head in my hands and stare down at the floor even as tears prick at my eyes.

This must be my punishment for not being patient enough to just wait for my soulmate.

Right now, sitting so close and yet being undeniably separate, I feel that this is the consequence for not trusting fate enough to just trust its timing.

Now that I’ve fought and clawed my way to the top, I’ve put my soulmate in danger. My heart begins to tear itself apart as I realize that while I’ve been ready for years to meet him, my soulmate was not.

Jin wasn’t ready, and I’ve taken that away from him.

Hot tears are threatening to spill out onto my cheeks, but I brush them away before they get the chance. This isn’t about me, this isn’t the time for self-pity. This is about making sure Jin comes out of this alright.

“Han?” Yuri taps my shoulder, handing me something. I look down to see it’s a paging device. “We’re going, but if you need us, press this button. We’ll be just down the hall.”

I gape up at her, surprised that my request was granted. “You’re actually leaving?” Suddenly my stomach suddenly sinks as I realize that I didn’t really think past this point. “What am I supposed to do?” I whisper.

Yuri fixes my hair, giving me a glowing smile. “There’s a reason he’s your soulmate, Han. Just do what feels right.”

If I wasn’t nearly sobbing before, I definitely am now. Trying my best to swallow my emotions, I nod at her. Yuri walks over to the door, knocking on it.

“We’re ready on this side.”

There’s a few footsteps outside the door and I imagine they’re moving Jin away. For good measure I turn away from the door. The last thing we need is face-to-face contact jolting our heart rate again. I’m not sure how much more I can take of this; let alone Jin.

The sound of the door unlocking reverberates through my entire system, and I cling to the chair I’m sitting on for dear life.

“Quickly, quickly,” Mr. Chung instructs. A moment later, the door shuts and locks again. I can hardly breathe as I hear them moving away, a muffled conversation taking place between Mr. Chung and Jin.

Then all is silent.

Suddenly alone in the room I gaze down at my monitor, watching at my heart rate jumps around a bit before settling back down at 142.

Still too high.

According to Mr. Chung, Jin’s heart rate came down a little bit during the 5 senses procedures, however it was still dangerously high. If everything has stayed the same he should be hovering around 160.

My ears strain to hear if Jin has returned to the door, but I hear nothing. As the seconds tick by I become more and more concerned, remembering my thoughts from earlier.

Jin clearly was not ready to find his soulmate. As far as I know, he had some major issues to work through before we met.

How am I supposed to feel right now?

How am I supposed to react when I’ve finally met the person I’ve been searching for my entire life, only to find that they weren’t ready to receive me?

The question that I’ve buried deep down for the entirety of my life comes bubbling back up to the surface in the face of this new dilemma.

Am I somehow too much?

As I get up out of my chair and sit with my back to the door, I stare out the window at the growing winter storm.

How many times have I wished to let myself go like that? No more small flurries that have people stopping to enjoy before scurrying on; I want to let go of everything I’ve learned and held inside until it’s a blizzard that has cars stopping and school cancelled because to ignore the blizzard is to ignore me.

My vision is blurry as I look down at my hands, almost expecting to see snowflakes falling from them.

Fate is a funny thing. It decided to pair me; a reserved girl with an endless internal blizzard raging and Jin. Jin, the man that flaunts himself with no reserve and infinite confidence.

I wonder if Jin has ever looked inside himself and felt like he was too much. The thought is a comforting one.

A slight push against the door notifies me to the presence of someone else sitting on the other side. Back to back, with only a slab of wood between us, my soulmate and I huff out a sigh at the same time.

It takes me by surprise, and it clearly does for him too. Jin chuckles, the sound sending a thrill through me despite my depressing thoughts. I chew on the inside of my lip, thinking of what to say.

The voice of my friend who found her soulmate years ago comes to my mind, taking me off guard. “And you think he isn’t ready to be found? Nobody ever is. But I can guarantee that the two of you are both ready to be loved.”

Like a lightbulb turning on over my head, I realize that I’ve been worrying over the wrong thing. Sure, maybe Jin wasn’t ready to be found yet. But if I’ve met him doesn't that mean that I should love him regardless?

“Hey Seokjin.”

Leaning my head back and closing my eyes, I can almost hear Jin’s deep breaths. No doubt he’s still trying to breathe deeply so he can get his heart under control.

“Hey Haneul.”

Those two words are enough to have me floating off the ground, a silly grin spreading across my features.

“Do you still have RJ over there?”

“Oh yeah, he’s right here.”

“Is he doing alright?”

Jin chuckles. “He said he’s fine. How are you?”

“I’m ok, I think.” My eyes drift open again and stray back to the window. “Did you know that it’s snowing right now?”

“Really?” Jin sounds strangely familiar, like we do this all the time. “Is it just a little?”

I shake my head even though he can’t see me. “No, it started slow but now it’s really coming down.”

“Good.” I would never be able to guess that Jin is still going through a bout of tachycardia judging from his even tone of voice. “I’d rather it be a blizzard than anything.”

“Me too!” I exclaim. “Much more satisfying.”

“Mm.”

It’s silent again, but this time I don’t feel like the walls are caving in on me. A quick glance at my monitor has me smiling.

I’m down to 135. Once we reach 80 we can open the door.

My heart rate spikes again at the thought of opening the door, and I take a deep breath to calm down.

“Would you describe it to me?” Jin’s voice is quiet, but I hear it clearly in the silence of the room.

“The snowstorm?”

“Yes.” He’s quiet for another moment before adding, “Please.”

Squinting, I stare out the window. “The snow is white.”

The door rumbles as Jin laughs. “We both know that’s not what I meant.”

Laughing to myself, I try to come up with something poetic for my soulmate. “Like I said earlier, it started off slowly. I could see that each snowflake was individual as they came down. Now, they’re in clusters, all big and fluffy. The kind that people try to catch on their tongues, you know?”

“Ooh, right.”

I pause, trying to figure out what else to say. “It makes it look not so cold. Earlier it looked kind of miserable and freezing, but now with all the snow coming down it just makes me want to walk around outside. It’ll be warmer, and quiet.”

Jin hums in acknowledgement. “I like it when it’s quiet after it snows.”

“Me too.”

“That’s probably why we’re…” Jin trails off, and I understand why he doesn’t say it. Just to even think about being soulmates with him has my heart clenching.

“Yeah, probably.” I supply.

“So how’s your first day at your new job going?”

I croak out a laugh, rolling my eyes. “Do you want the honest answer or the lie?”

“Both, please.”

How is he so polite even in teasing? The media has always portrayed him as a free spirit that doesn’t care much about what others think, and yet he’s said please more times in the past twenty minutes than I’ve heard all week.

“It’s great, thanks for asking.”

It’s quiet before Jin speaks up again. “Which one was that?”

I shrug, my shoulders rubbing up against the door. “Probably both, I haven’t decided yet.”

Jin’s laugh sounds loud and clear, but I can’t help but wonder what it would sound like if there wasn’t a door between the two of us right now.

The minutes pass as we continue to chat, each minute bringing my heart rate down a bit more. Once I reach 100, I let out a shout of triumph.

“What happened?” Jin asks.

“I hit 100! What are you at?”

It’s quiet for a long time before Jin responds. “Do you want the honest answer or the lie?”

My stomach drops but I try to keep my tone light. “Honesty is always the best policy.”

“It says 154.”

My eyes grow wide as I sit straight up, wincing as my tailbone feels sore from sitting on the hard floor for so long.

Jin hasn’t hardly dropped at all and it’s been...18 minutes since we were left alone.

“You’re not saying anything.”

I scramble to come up with something to say, but I don’t want to push him too hard. How am I supposed to get someone to open up to me that I only met thirty minutes ago?

Honesty is the best policy, I guess. “I just thought we were getting along well, that’s all.”

I wish I knew Jin well enough to picture what expression he’s wearing right now, but all I can imagine are his wide eyes as he reached out to me when we first saw each other.

“No, we are,” Jin reassures me, guilt evident in his voice.

Turning around to sit cross-legged before the door, I stare it down like I can see through it to Jin. “So...what are you still so freaked out about?”

Jin doesn’t answer, but I hear him shuffling about and suddenly a card slips under the door. I grab it, flipping it over.

“We’re going to have to open this door eventually, aren’t we?” Jin asks as I study the photocard he just pushed under the door.

“What does Jimin’s photocard have to do with that?”

In response another card slips under the door, followed by another and another until I have six photo cards spread out before me. I’m about to ask where his own photo is until it comes flying under the door, Jin’s serious face looking up at me from where he sits in the picture.

Adding it to the collection before me, I furrow my brows, still not understanding what he’s trying to say.

“I’m assuming you’ve heard of me, right?” Before I can answer, Jin continues speaking. There’s an edge to his voice now as his anxiety makes an appearance. “You’ve probably seen photos just like these for years now. People say that we look beautiful, like some fallen gods or something. Untouchable, yet so many can’t seem to keep away.”

Biting down on the questions I have brimming in my mind, I allow Jin to continue without interrupting.

“This is what people are trained to see. Don’t get me wrong, it’s nice to be loved. But they just don’t get it. If they could see past all of this - the photos, the extravagant clothes and performances, even the funny shows! If they could see this. Right now, me cowering on one side of a door, hiding from my s...soulmate, they wouldn’t want anything to do with me.”

“That’s not true.”

“You have to say that! You’re my soulmate!” Jin’s voice rises in desperation, making me wince. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell.”

“It’s ok,” I breathe out. “Go on.”

Jin pauses before speaking again. “I’m not like everyone else. I wasn’t meant for this life. I’m not saying that I’m not grateful for every second of it; I am. It’s brought me more joy than I ever thought possible, but have you ever stared into the faces of thousands of people who love you and do everything for you, and just knew, deep down, that you don’t deserve it?” Jin is nearly panting as he asks the question again. “Have you, Haneul? Have you ever had millions of people love you but it leaves you wide awake every night staring at the ceiling because no matter how you do the math, there is no way you can ever make it up to them? I don’t deserve this, but you do deserve to know that I am not everything I’ve been portrayed to be.”

Suddenly I find myself wishing for rain rather than snow. The snow is silent as it falls, right now I need rain to pound against the windows and roof, to drown out the ache in my chest as I listen to Jin’s voice shake.

“I...I can’t open this door for you, Haneul. Because what you’ll see is so much less than what you’re expecting, and I can’t stand it.”

I never thought it was possible to drown on dry land, but as I gasp for air I find that there is none. I’m drowning beneath the emotions that Jin has thrown out into the void with such disdain, I’m drowning with the knowledge that I don’t know.

I don’t know what it feels like to be loved by people I’ve never met and still feel like I’m not enough. My own problem seems to wither in the face of Jin’s; feeling like I have to hold back just so I can fit into normal society.

As I stare down at the photos, I wonder which is worse: not feeling worthy of an unconditional love, or knowing nobody will ever love you for who you truly are.

Perhaps it doesn’t matter which is worse. At the end of the day, we’re both hurting.

Slowly gathering up the photo cards, I push them back under the door one by one. Jin says nothing as he collects them.

“First,” my voice is thick with emotion but I push through. “I have heard about you. I’ve seen your face literally everywhere, it’s exhausting to think that I was staring at my soulmate this entire time without knowing it was actually you. On the bright side, now I don’t feel so guilty for thinking that you were cute.”

Jin’s dry laugh tells me that he’s not feeling much better and is certainly not much more inclined to open this door.

“Second, I have no idea what that’s like. It sounds...terrifying and beautiful and just weird. Do you actually have that many fans?” I shake my head. “That’s not the point. You’re worried that I won’t want you because you’re not the ‘Jin’ that the world knows?”

Jin gives a muffled response that I interpret as a yes.

“In what world would that make you less in my eyes? I was never expecting to be paired with a world-renowned star and you feeling so inadequate about it all only confirms that I’m not paired with one!” My voice rises as my heart starts to pump harder. “In all reality, I’ve somehow been paired up with a person that’s normal enough to realize that they’re in way over their head, but they’re brave enough to keep swimming. So instead of tiring yourself out and refusing to let me see you for who you are, why don’t you let me throw you a life jacket or something?”

Jin sounds defensive as he questions me. “What are you even saying?”

“I’m making an analogy, Seokjin, let me think.”

He lets out a startled laugh, not saying anything else. As I ponder what to say that can have any sort of effect on him, I remember the storm outside.

Stretching and scooting even closer to the door, I close my eyes against the rising embarrassment. “Just, this is how I think about things sometimes. Hear me out, ok? Then you can decide how you want to do this. It’s your decision as much as it is mine, I won’t force you to do anything you’re not comfortable with. I promise.” I barely make it through my promise, squeezing my eyes extra tight in hopes that he won’t just decide to get up and leave right now.

“...I’ll listen.”

Rubbing the temples of my forehead, I send up a silent prayer that this will make sense.

“It’s snowing, right? I think you might be like those clouds outside right now. You’ve traveled all over the world, picking up little bits and pieces along the way. So many have looked up at you, wishing they could be up there in the sky with you. You’d love to bring them up with you, wouldn’t you? But it’s impossible for a cloud to pick up a person and carry them to the sky.”

“Ok,” Jin interrupts, and I notice with no small amount of relief that he almost sounds like he’s smiling. “I get where you’re going with this, but first I just have to say that I can’t believe you’re comparing me to a cloud.”

“Are you quite finished?” I quip out, grinning.

“For now.”

Sighing, I continue on. “Well, you’re afraid of what people might see if you let go. They’re so used to clear blue skies that you don’t want to scare them away with a bit of bad weather. Sure, sometimes you can send down a few snowflakes. You know, the kind of flurry that melts by morning. People like that, the snowflakes are beautiful and it let’s them know that you’re living in the same miserable world as the rest of them.”

“But?”

“But I think you’re like me. There’s so much going on inside of you; like doubting you deserve everything you’ve been given. You’ve become so good at managing your persona that you’ve forgotten how to let go when you need to. And you’ve forgotten that your soulmate is the one person guaranteed to not mind at all when you feel like everything is too heavy to hold onto anymore. I wouldn’t even bat an eye. It’s normal to feel that the weight of people’s love is sometimes too heavy to bear, Seokjin.”

I’m not sure if I should wait for him to respond, but I sit there quietly as I collect my thoughts. A glance back at the window shows the snow coming down in those same thick clusters as before, the world outside turned into a sheet of white.

Lost in my thoughts, I don’t even realize that minutes pass in silence. This small sliver of time has become infinite for the two of us. We’re too busy looking up at the clouds in our minds and wondering if today will be the day they rage and storm to notice a thing as trivial as time.

“Haneul?”

Jin’s voice brings me back to reality, the door a cruel reminder to our predicament.

“Yeah?”

I can hear him shuffling around again before he speaks. “What if when I start, I can’t stop?”

How do I tell him that I don’t have an answer? I’ve wondered the same thing my entire life.

“I...I’ve thought the same thing.” I admit.

“Really? About yourself?”

“Yeah, of course. Actually, I bet everybody has. But I’ve never heard about anyone going insane from venting their emotions and being honest before, so I think you’ll be able to stop.”

Jin breathes deep, and I wonder if he’s breathing better now. I don’t want to ask what his heart rate is just yet.

“And...you’ll be with me, right?”

I chuckle. “Yeah, with the lifejacket, remember?”

Jin joins in the laughter, the sound easing up some of the stress laid on my shoulders. “You need to decide if we’re talking about clouds or swimming.”

“Right, right.”

What I hope Jin is starting to understand is that I’ll willingly jump in alongside him and swim the length of the ocean if it means he’ll open the door.

It’s been so long, I want to say. I’ve been waiting for you for so long. Can’t you open up?

“See, what I can’t believe is that you didn’t keep my photo card.”

I look at the door with an incredulous expression. “Are you kidding me?! You hypocrite, you need to decide if you’re an arrogant idol or tortured soul!”

We burst out into laughter, amazed at the strangeness of the situation.

“What, I can’t be both?” Jin asks, still laughing.

“Whatever. Do what you want. You don’t happen to have a cushion that you could slide under the door, do you?”

“No, no cushions over here. I feel your pain though; these tile floors are merciless.”

I hum in agreement, switching positions so my legs don’t go numb. It’s quiet for a little while before I yawn, suddenly exhausted by the events of the day.

“So…” Jin starts. “What made you want to become a soulmate assistant?”

I purse my lips, wondering where to even begin. “I’ve always been fascinated by the idea of soulmates, I guess. Why we have them, what their function is, what leads us to them. It just made sense to pursue a degree in soulmate studies, and then obviously this was the next step.”

“So you just applied for Bighit out of the blue?”

Shaking my head, my eyes drift shut as I try to figure out a way to explain this in a way that doesn’t make me sound crazy. “I applied on purpose, it wasn’t just some random job to me. It made sense. I wanted to travel the world...find my soulmate along the way. This job provided the perfect opportunity to do just that.”

Jin must be changing his position as well, I hear him groan a little on the other side. “Well, congrats. You found him, and all within the comfort of Seoul!”

I chuckle, nodding. “That’s right. Now I think it’d be nice to travel, though. I think I’ll be able to enjoy it more.”

“Where do you want to go?”

There’s a part of me that wants to ask if he’s going to join me, but I bite back the comment for now.

“Honestly, I’m not sure. Before, I just wanted to go everywhere. It gave me higher chances of finding my soulmate. Now, though, I’m just realizing that I’ve never thought about going somewhere for the fun of it. Do you have any suggestions?”

“I might have a couple.” Jin pauses. “You really wanted to find me that badly?”

My cheeks burn with embarrassment at his question. “I..yeah, I guess I did. But I was also terrified of finding you.”

“Really?” Jin’s tone is so curious, it makes me smile. “Why would you be scared of finding me?”

I roll my eyes, wanting to tell him that he was obviously scared of being found. Instead I just answer him. “I was worried that you didn’t want to be found.”

It’s silent as Jin processes the new information. I begin to wonder if I’ve made him uncomfortable with my honesty, I can hear him taking slow, deep breaths.

“I’m sorry.”

The way he’s apologizing I know that he really didn’t want to be found. Letting out a dry laugh, I apologize as well. “I’m sorry, too.”

Jin moves around outside, I can feel the door moving under his weight. “This is weird, isn’t it?”

“I mean,” I start, grinning at his innocent view on things. “If you think about it, this is really just another day for me. This is my job, after all.”

Jin snorts. “Don’t tell me you’ve been in this position before.”

I shake my head, forgetting that he can’t see me. “No, never quite like this.”

“Can I…” His voice trails off while I strain to listen, making sure to not miss a single syllable. “Would it be weird if I took you to dinner tonight? You know, to celebrate your first day at your big new job.”

There’s a part of me that wants to tease him for asking me out before even opening the door, but there’s a part of me that’s too busy melting at his kind gesture to say anything of the sort.

“On one condition.”

“Yeah, I know,” Jin huffs. “We’ll open the door soon, I’m almost down to where I should be-”

My laugh cuts him off. “Well, yeah, I guess that’s a pretty good idea but I wasn’t going to say that.”

“Oh.”

“I’ll let you take me anywhere if you give your photocard back.” I jump away from the door as I hear loud noises from the other side, the door itself shaking. “What is going-”

My question is answered as Jin’s photocard is shoved under the door, a bit crumpled but worth it. I can’t keep in my laughter at Jin’s eagerness, Jin himself cracking up.

“I’m so glad you didn’t ask for someone else’s,” he pants, making me laugh even more. Carefully smoothing it out, I place it between my phone case and phone. Slipping my phone back into my pocket, I sneak a glance at my monitor.

72.

“Hey…” I hate to have to ask, in fear of what the answer may be, but I have to. “Has your heart rate come down at all?”

When I hear his machine beeping, I start to panic.

“Seokjin? Seokjin what’s-”

“Sorry,” Jin’s sheepish voice floats through the door. “I took it off a little while ago, I’m just booting it back up.”

I’m completely frozen, staring holes through the door. Slapping my hands against it, I vent my anger with him for nearly giving me a heart attack.

“Don't” bang! “do” bang! “that to me!”

The classic windshield wiper laugh that I’ve come to associate with Jin is what answers me, making me roll my eyes and slump back down. A few more seconds pass as Jin fiddles with the machine, trying to get it to read his heart rate.

“Hey!” He shouts excitedly. “I’m ok!”

This has me straightening right up. “Really? What does it say?”

“77!”

I gasp, grabbing the paging device but stopping before I can press it. “Wait, so you’re feeling better now, right?”

Jin laughs, the sound much lighter than before. I can almost feel his relief through the door. “Yeah, I’m great.”

“So...can I get out of this room now?”

The second I ask the question I curse myself, wishing I hadn’t. I probably should have talked to him a bit more, prepared him more before I threw this onto him.

Jin is quiet as he speaks. “But then what happens?”

I chew on my cheek as I ponder how to best prepare him for the rest of the day. “Well, we say hi to each other first. I’ll probably show you where the loose thread is on your sweater, it’s been driving me crazy this entire time.”

He laughs. “You noticed that?”

“Yeah, I did. I’m sure I have food on my face or something, don’t I? That would be just my luck.”

“No, you don’t.” Then, quieter, “You’re perfect.”

As a blush overtakes my face I choose to pretend I didn’t hear him. “We’ll have to go through the typical procedures, you know, going over the packet I have in my bag that’s for new soulmates, that kind of stuff. We actually have a really boring day ahead of us, Seokjin.”

“Just Jin.”

I blink at the door. “Oh, o-ok.” Then, “I’m just Han, if you want.”

“Like Han Solo?” I hit the door again, making Jin laugh. “Kidding, kidding.”

We chat for a couple more minutes, going over the plans for the day. It’s as I’m finishing to explain the trust exercises we’ll have to perform that Jin interrupts me.

“Sorry, but I just realized that I’d much rather have this conversation face to face. If you don’t mind.”

My eyebrows jump up at how confident he sounds. “Really? You’re sure?”

“I’m sure. Just, go easy on me, ok? I’m not all I’m cracked up to be.” He tries to brush it off as a joke, but it’s clear that he’s still feeling a little insecure. I guess that’s something I’ll just have to help him with over time, starting with today.

Pressing the pager, I smile as I watch the snow fall. “As long as we fix your sweater, I’m happy.”

Jin is laughing, claiming he can’t find any loose thread when the sound of footsteps approaching stops him.

“How’s it going, Seokjin?” Mr. Chung’s happy tone greets him.

“It’s going pretty well,” Jin politely replies. “I think we’re both ready to get up from off the floor.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Yuri’s voice rings out. “We should have brought you a chair, that’s all our fault.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Jin responds as he groans getting up from the floor. “You don’t have to worry about me. Han, on the other hand, is a little intense. You might want to watch out for her analogies.”

“Hey!” I shout as everyone laughs. Mr. Chung checks Jin’s heart rate, making sure everything is clear and ready to go. Getting up from the floor, I smooth out my clothes. I head over to the window area again, checking my hair in the reflection.

Looking up at the snowy sky I hear the door unlock.

Whirling around, I stare at it as though it might suddenly come to life and attack me. When a soft knock sounds, I jump back.

It opens just enough for Yuri to stick her head in, grinning once she sees me.

“Hey, are you ok if we just use this room for the rest of this day? Or do you wanna switch?”

I’m mute, waiting to see my soulmate. I just shrug, letting her know that I don’t care. Thankfully Yuri is an expert in anxious soulmates, so she interprets my meaning just fine.

“You can head in, Seokjin.” Yuri says as she heads back out, leaving the door slightly ajar.

I cling to the window frame, knuckles white as I stare out at the storm. Focusing on breathing in and out, I don’t even notice that Jin has entered the room until I see his reflection in the window.

The world moves slowly for a moment as I look up at him in the window, his hands fidgeting at his sides as he waits for me to turn around.

His cheeks are pink, the periwinkle color of his sweater offsetting his dark brown hair that he has swept back. He’s chewing on the inside of his cheek like I am, causing his lips to pout.

“We might not be able to go out and eat if it keeps snowing like that,” Jin breathes out. Even though we were a mere inches apart before, the only thing keeping us apart being a door, I can’t help but hold my breath as I hear him speak.

Taking a deep drink of whatever courage I have left in me, I turn to look at him over my shoulder.

He almost looks away upon meeting eyes with me, but something keeps him planted where he is in my gaze.

“That’s alright,” I mumble, eyes sweeping over his face and heart clenching as I see him shifting from one foot to another, clearly uncomfortable to be under such direct scrutiny. “I don’t mind cooking.”

Jin gives me a soft close-lipped smile, his cheeks rounding out. “Me neither.”

I turn back to the window, standing on my tiptoes as I watch the people scurrying below. One person is trudging along holding more bags than I thought humanly possible, making me smile.

“Come look at this,” I wave Jin over, hoping to let him know that my attention is no longer solely on him.

Jin ambles over, pausing for a moment a few steps behind me before taking the last couple of steps. I point down at the person holding their bags, grinning as another person stops to help them.

Through the reflection in the window I can tell that Jin isn’t watching them at all, his head pointed down but his eyes looking over at me. Something tells me that if he knew I saw him, he’d pass out right here and now, so I pretend to not know.

As the two people share the load of bags and walk toward the nearest bus stop, I sigh. “See? There are still good people out in the world.”

My hands are still clinging to the window frame, my tight grip the one thing that gives my anxiety away. To my eternal shock, Jin raises one shaky hand to my own, his warm hand resting over mine before gently detaching it from the window and smoothing it out.

Neither one of us dares to breathe as he repeats the action with my other hand, taking extra care to smooth out my clenched fingers before releasing them.

I look up at my soulmate, my exhausted heart managing to pick up some speed as I find him looking down at me already, his eyes alight with stars.

His voice is low as he mumbles out, “You’re different from what I thought you’d be.”

The way he’s looking at me feels like walking out into the world the morning after a blizzard, everything hushed and glittering. It has this way of making my own thoughts quiet down, focusing on just this one thing.

I’m not sure how to put anything into words, so I just smile up at him. “That’s good, right?”

Jin nods, a bit of his hair falling forward with the action. “Yes.”

My attention returns to the snow outside once I see the tips of his ears going red. My smile is reflected in the glass, and my heart stutters as I see Jin’s mesmerized smile mirror my own. Locking eyes in the hazy reflection, I laugh a little.

“What’s so funny?” Jin asks, turning to look at me.

Shaking my head, I look down at my shoes before glancing up at him. “I’m probably not what you expected because I compared you to a cloud.”

He grins, looking down at his shoes before glancing up at me. “Yeah, that stung a little. I try very hard to maintain a nice figure, and yet here you are, comparing me with a big, fat fluffy thing.”

Laughing at his offended expression, I shrug. “I had to come up with something! It’s weird; for all the times I’ve dreamed about meeting my soulmate, I’ve never come up with what to say. That was the best I could do under pressure.”

“No, you did great, really.” He smiles easily now, feeling a bit more comfortable. “You’ve never really thought of what to say, though?”

I shake my head. “No, have you?”

Jin gives me a long look before nodding. “Oh yeah, definitely.”

“Let’s hear it, then.” I nudge him, Jin swaying on his feet as though I had shoved him across the room. I roll my eyes at his dramatic manner, loving every second of it.

“I’ll tell you under one condition.”

“What?”

Jin sighs, coming to stand behind me. The hairs on the back of my neck stand straight up with goosebumps as he brings his arms around me, gently grabbing my hands and slowly bringing them up to cover my eyes.

“You’re not allowed to look at me while I say it.”

He keeps his hands over mine as they rest over my eyes, effectively shutting out the rest of the world. I keep in my laugh, not wanting to deter him.

“Ok, I won’t peek.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

“Good.” Jin’s voice is low and quiet as I nearly jolt out of my skin when I realize just how close he is. He waits to make sure my hands aren’t going to move from my eyes before he removes his hands, one coming to rest on the small of my back before he moves away. I’m left feeling suddenly cold, almost reaching out for him but reminding myself to stay still.

His voice comes from before me, just off to the right as he begins to speak. I can almost picture him leaning against the windowsill, watching me with those bright eyes.

“I’m not extraordinarily talented at a lot of things,” Jin starts, the sound of his voice immediately begging me to gravitate toward him. “I can’t paint you beautiful things or write you award winning songs, because sometimes the things that go on inside my head can’t be translated onto paper. I might not be able to sing for you the way you’d like, because my voice has a tendency to shake when I’m alone with someone I care about.”

Warmth fills my chest at his words even as I want to tell him that none of it matters. His lack of skill in all areas of life is only natural, and I have a sneaking suspicion that he’s better at it all than he lets on.

“I’ve been learning to play the piano, but I’m no Beethoven. If I mess up the keys it’s because I can feel you looking at me, and I just can’t help it.” Jin pauses, taking a shaky breath. “There might be times when I can’t be there for you, because I’m over on the other side of the world on some stage, but there are a few things that I can promise you I’m good at.”

Jin’s hands are warm as they wrap about my own, slowly pulling my hands away from my eyes. I blink them open, looking up to see my soulmate standing before me, still leaning up against the windowsill just as I pictured. His cheeks are pink as he looks down to where he holds my hands in his, making no move to let go.

“I can work the knots out of your shoulders when you have a long day at work, and I promise to remember your favorite meal. When we’re far away from each other, I’ll send you annoying messages every chance I get so you know that I’m thinking of you.” I chuckle a little, the sound bringing Jin’s eyes back up to my face. “I’ll keep the receipts for everything I ever buy you. The dishes won’t be left in the sink overnight, and I’m really good at listening.”

My vision begins to blur as tears threaten to spill over, but Jin doesn’t stop. The snow falling behind him frames him in a winter wonderland, and my mind burns the image into my memory.

“I’m not very good at much, but I’ll be good to you.”

Staring at him, I start to see the pieces that Jin hides from everyone else. I squeeze his hands, pledging to take the time to learn everything that there is to discover about him.

My eyes drift down to land on the single loose thread on the collar of his sweater, and I laugh even as a tear escapes me.

Reaching up to pluck the thread, I give my soulmate a wink which he immediately returns almost out of habit.

“You remember asking me how my first day of work was going?” When he nods, looking a bit confused, I continue. “I know what the honest answer is, now.”

Jin looks intrigued as he gives me a shy smile. “What is it?”

Stepping in a bit closer, I pull his arms around me before lightly feathering through his hair. “Pretty great.”

The last thing I see before Jin leans forward to plant a delicate kiss to my forehead are the clouds that have finally stopped snowing, no longer weighed down by their heavy burden.

Fin.

main masterlist || Help support me? ko-fi

taglist: @taylorroe3 @dreamcatcherjiah @thecaffeinatedscribbles @marianeamine @spookidema

#jin soulmate au #bts soulmate au #jin fluff #bts fluff #bts angst #jin angst #jin oneshot #jin series #bts oneshot #bts series #teeth rotting fluff #kim seokjin #Seokjin soulmate au #jin soulmate #Seokjin soulmate #jin deserves more #bts writer #jin writer #bts author

176 notes · View notes

dontjudgemeimawriter · 3 years

Text

Excerpt: Mika & Terran

Sharing this scene thanks to the request of @thegreatobsesso! It’s a long one so I have some under a readmore.

In rereading this I realized that one of the reasons I didn’t share this before is because I have no idea if some parts of it make sense XD. Here’s hoping.

Just a little bit of context: Mika and Terran work and both live with Zachary as assassins. Mika dislikes Terran because he killed her twin brother and she blames him for her role. Terran is keeping the fact that he didn’t kill her brother form everyone, her included. Terran and Raymond recently had an argument that ended with Raymond implying he didn’t want to see Terran again and they have yet to reconcile (this is before some scenes between the two of them that I’ve shared already).

-----------

Roasters was an odd place, with a lot of make-your-own dishes that led to a number of food atrocities. Mika was easy to find, at a table near the back. She gave me a smile when she saw me, the kind that was just a little bit forced and a little surprised. She hadn’t been sure I’d come, and she wasn’t entirely excited to see me. “Hi.”

I was still focused, but I’d almost forgotten my persona, so I recafted it as I took a step. “Hello,” I said, and wasn’t really sure how to behave—we’d never had lunch out, just the two of us, like this. “You were right, I hadn’t eaten,” I said, finally, picking up the paper menu sitting on the table.

“I already ate,” she said, gesturing to an empty plate next to her. “But…you’re welcome.” She lifted the sleeve of her sweater, showing her arms, which were mostly healed over. Some redness remained, though. “It’s healed a lot.”

“Good,” I nodded, and she didn’t say anything else. Maybe I shouldn’t’ve come. Just by virtue of her inviting me, she held the power right now. I didn’t know how to talk to her without having the reins.

My stomach growled, though, so I studied the menu, a maze of steps to pick from. I didn’t particularly like this set-up, I decided. Shouldn’t the restaurant tell me what was a good combination? But there were a few suggestions listed along the bottom, so I waited in a somewhat awkward silence until a waitress came over and I pointed to one of the items. But once I’d ordered, there was nothing to pretend to look at.

“So,” Mika clasped her hands together. There we go. “I’m not going to ask again, about…what happened this morning.” I nodded. Good, I’d forgotten—or ignored—how close she’d come to getting in that morning. “But…the thing is….” she sighed, looked at the table, then at me. She was nervous. “It did make me… make me think about something differently? Like the other day, you said you had to not care, right?” She looked at me again, and I nodded slowly.

“I’ve never thought of us as similar, I guess? But this morning…” She groaned in annoyance, but not at me. It was something Raymond did, too, get frustrated over not being able to find the right words. “You’ve always been the enemy to me, I guess. And you’ve said that it was Zachary who had you do it, yes, but you were still with him—” She sighed, stared at the table for a minute.

In the silence, I spoke up. “It’s okay—I can just accept thanks for helping you and we can call it—”

Mika shook her head. “I know you’ve been lying to me.”

I froze. Panic stirred. Okay, so she’d learned more this morning than I’d thought, shit— okay, what did she know—

“Or maybe not lying but, something?” she glanced at me, and I tried to not look nervous. “But—I can usually feel people, y’know? Or maybe you don’t—” she flicked a straw wrapper sitting on the table. “Most of the time, I can get a read on people. Can tell if they’re trustworthy or not, that kind of thing. Not enough to really get in, but just a feeling, okay?”

I nodded.

“I usually know when people are lying, because they have their guard up, even when they’re acting like they don’t.” She glanced at me without moving her head. “And okay, I get it. Nyp, like okay. Zachary does the same thing, keeping his guard up. Honestly, most people do. But most of the time, even with him, it’s subtle. I still get a feeling of them, there’s just a suppression of some kind. But with you it’s like a freaking wall.” She raised her head to watch my reaction.

And yeah, it made sense. It was the focus. Though it surprised me a bit that she’d always noticed this. Meant she hadn’t fallen for my act quite as much as I wished, but at least she didn't know anything.

“So that’s why I didn’t trust you. And it doesn't help that every time I look at you I think about…him...but maybe I could look past it if you were being honest around me.”

I nodded slowly. A disappointment that she knew I was lying, but my secrets were safe. “Okay, so I’ve got a wall up,” I said, trying to sound surprised but pleased—like I had no idea why I would but was happy it existed. “There a reason you wanted to tell me?”

“Yeah,” she started wringing the straw wrapper. “I always kinda thought you just didn’t trust me, like you thought I was just a kid or too inexperienced or whatever, and I didn’t care because we’re not on the same side, right? Like I thought it was about me. And you’re just like, the next Zachary, or whatever. But,” she took a deep breath. “This morning, it wasn’t a wall.” she quickly held up a hand, before I even reacted. “I didn’t like, look or anything. But you felt like a person.”

I really should’ve focused this morning. I shouldn't have fallen asleep, shouldn’t’ve frozen in the hallway. I didn't even know if I was regretting helping her or just regretting how sloppily I had.

“And I started to think maybe it wasn’t about me?” she raised an eyebrow.

What could I say to that?

“Like maybe the wall wasn’t for me?” Mika guessed, looking a little hopeful. What was she hoping? “You said you had to not care, right? And like, I’ve hated spending the last few years with him, but it’s been your whole life, right? Maybe I’m reading too much into it, but I started thinking about what that would be like and how I’ve turned off my emotions and stuff. And maybe you’re not just on Zachary’s side, and if so, maybe we don’t need to be enemies.”

I leaned back in my seat, and she waited. How could I dismantle this? Should I dismantle this? If she was just getting suspicious, yes, but she already knew I was lying. Still, there was no way I could tell her anything. What did she want from me, anyway?

“What’s your point, Mika?”

She took a deep breath. “I guess I just want to know—no. I thought I’d give you a chance? Because—I think you know, I hate living like this. And okay, I have to, yeah. But if you also have to, maybe I should give you a chance. Because if there’s any chance we’re in the same boat… then maybe we can… help each other? So, yeah. I wanted to ask you… are we?” She stared at me, her eyes wide, perhaps the only time I’d interacted with her where she hadn’t wanted to bite my head off. And goddamnit, why did they have to look so alike?

What am I supposed to do here, Raymond? Because yes, we are the same. You’re trusting me to keep her safe, keep us safe, and I thought that it was working, but maybe it wasn’t, and you left me. And she’s hurt, because you left her alone and I kept her alone, and I haven’t been helping her and you want me to help her. Before, I could say that it was worth it. Worth it because her knowing the truth would put her in just as as much danger as we already were in, and she was even less likely to listen to me than to you.

But that must not be true, because nothing about that has changed. And if that’s the only reason, I wouldn’t need it. Because you left, cut me off, and she’s fucking right, I do need someone, because you were my someone.

I still couldn’t tell her. But she’s asking for help, and she’s asking to help, and it was much easier when she hated me because then I was lying but I wasn’t betraying her. But maybe I always had been, because weren’t we in the same boat?

She was still watching me, and at least I knew that I was a wall to her so my inner turmoil stayed private. But still, maybe I shouldn’t be talking to you in my head.

“It’s focus,” I said.

She frowned. “What?”

It hadn’t exactly been an answer to the question. “The wall you said?” I explained. “It’s the spell focus. It’s a Nance spell.”

“Oh,” she looked thoughtful. “Do you always have that cast?”

It felt so wrong to admit this. I nodded.

“Why?”

I couldn’t say that. Not even a rational reason, though there were a million—I didn’t trust her enough not to tell Zachary, didn't know how she’d react, didn’t think I could explain—but physically, no answer formed.

She shook her head to dismiss it. “Whatever. Okay, so you cast that spell and there’s a wall? And you didn’t have it cast this morning?”

I nodded again.

“Okay.” She nodded thoughtfully, then set down the straw wrapper. “That doesn’t answer the question, though.”

True. “If you’re asking if we’re on the same side, I don’t think you’d trust my answer,” I said. “And you probably shouldn’t.”

“If you un-cast, I can,” she said. “I won’t look in or anything—I don’t even think I could—but I’ll be able to tell if you’re lying.”

I shook my head. “I don’t think I can do that. For the same reason—I don’t trust you enough.” I wished I could—wanted, for Raymond, for her to be trustworthy—but the truth was, I knew too little about her, or what she’d gotten involved in. And I still didn’t think she was good at lying. Either she wasn’t good at lying or she was very good and pulling an elaborate con— neither possibility made her trustworthy.

“What is your answer?”

“Yes,” I said, and for some reason it was easy to say, so easy that I wanted to say more, admit so much, grasp on to anyone I could talk to, but it didn't matter, because I was so tired of this, so tired of hiding it. Keeping my voice steady, not admitting too much. But if there was a chance this all got back to the Syndicate, or someone else, I needed the assurance that I could pretend I’d been getting her to trust me, not true disloyalty. “I also feel stuck. We could be on the same side, though I don’t think there’s anything to do about it.”

She smiled. “Thanks. Even if you’re lying—I’ve just felt alone, and if there’s a chance you have too, that’s all I need. Not much to do about it. And I know you don’t trust me completely, and I’m not sure I trust you, but maybe we could tolerate each other? We don’t have to talk or like, trust each other or anything, but—It’s exhausting, and I feel like it might be a bit better for both of us to feel like someone else in the house wasn’t against us.”

Yeah, it might. I wasn’t going to unfocus, but already, the stress of it was calming down. If she was willing to give me a chance, I should let her. I gave her a smile—tried to give her a genuine one, but with focus still up, I wasn’t sure if it was possible.

“Good,” she said, and with that the conversation died, something having changed yet very little. My food came out a minute later, so I got to eat at least, and I found myself so hungry that I didn’t put the toasted sandwich down, taking bite after bite. And suddenly I was self conscious, despite having eaten around Mika numerous times.

Who was I supposed to be around her? I couldn’t relax, but I couldn't put on the fake persona I’d grown so accustomed to being.

Once I’d finished the sandwich and moved on to the fries, Mika spoke up again. “Can I ask something?”

“Depends on what it is.”

She nodded, speaking slowly. “Did Raymond say anything? Before you—before he—”

I stared at my fry, tensing every part of my face, because even focusing didn’t mean I could forget about that moment. I couldn't think about it, not in front of her—even if I did have a wall, that might make it might all fall away.

I ate two fries, trying to swallow down the lump in my throat that threatened to force me to tears. Took a gulp of water.

“I don’t remember.”

Mika’s face fell. “Are you lying?”

Of course I was lying. That moment was etched into my memory. That moment was what I returned to. But it was also something—in a way, the thing—I couldn’t tell her.

I took a deep breath, and it sucked, because even if we weren’t letting our guards down, she’d opened up to me, she’d trusted me, and she’d offered me something that I needed and she needed, but I couldn’t.

How could I give her an answer? If she’d asked me this just yesterday it would’ve been so easy to brush her off, to give some sarcastic comment that would make her pissed.

“You are,” she sighed. “Fine. Whatever. We can not talk about that.” She stared out the window, jaw set.

It was unfair, though, I knew that. I couldn't tell her, but I knew it was hurting her, that she was still grieving him, and that maybe he was the only reason she was taking a chance with me. Goddamnit, Raymond.

I couldn’t lie about this, though. I couldn’t tell her his last words, partially because they hadn’t been his last, and partially because they revealed too much. But making them up was wrong. I couldn’t come up with something, couldn’t make up some meaningless last words for him. This lie may be protecting them, but that would be betrayal.

“Look,” I said, and it actually came out sounding gentle. She looked back at me. “What happened, Raymond was expecting it. He walked into that building expecting not to make it out alive—whether it was by fire or execution.” Her eyes fell to the table. “Point is, he was expecting to die. Anything he said to you, I’m sure, was far more meaningful than any last words he said to me.”

Of course, what he’d said to me had meant everything, for me, for him, for all of us— but as far as “last words” go, I was telling the truth. One thing I knew for sure was that Raymond had been ready to die, and because of that and because it was him, whatever he said to Mika was his last words.

And thankfully, she accepted it. She even smiled. “Thank you.”

I gave her a smile, too. And even though this was new, even though I had no idea what to expect, I really hoped it would be okay. I think I needed, if I couldn't have a friend, to at least not be enemies with someone.

#When I planned this scene I was walking the golf course near my school and I stopped and sat in the pavillion #in my heart this scene takes place there and they talked much more #Mika #Terran #Syndicate #my writing #excerpt #Part of this is Mika not being articulate but sometimes I can be really convuluted #So if it doesn't make sense you can ask

21 notes · View notes

aewhore · 4 years

Text

Drunk in love ~ Orange Cassidy x reader (NSFW)

REQUEST BY : @bestfriendshypewoman (I hope you like it!!!)

Summary: You go out to the bar with Adam after Revolution 2020, You and Orange get tipsy and you both get very handsy and flirty. You both end up back in your hotel room and it gets juicy. ;)

Word count: 3500

Revolution had come and gone and it had been the best ppv for AEW so far. You had defended your AEW women's championship against one of your closest friends Kris Statlander. The saying in pro wrestling that “you hit harder when you're fighting your friends” never rang truer than when you and Kris stepped in the ring against one another. It was a hard hitting, fast paced match and it helped a lot that the crowd was electric the entire time. Signing with AEW was the best decision you had ever made in the last 15 years of your career, you were doing your best work and it was only getting better as your title reign continued.

Hopping between different indie promotions means you made friends all over the world but sadly you didn't get to see them as often as you would like until now. That being said you also saw the people you didn't like a lot more often. Such people included the cooler than cool Orange Cassidy. It's not that you hated Cassidy, it's just he rubbed you the wrong way. It wasn't a one way street though, Cassidy wasn’t your biggest fan either. He would leave the room if you entered, he would ignore you if you both ever got stuck in a conversation together but now you were both in the same promotion so you did what any rational adults would do, and completely ignored each other like the plague.

So after your blockbuster match with Kris, you were bruised and beaten up as you prepared to leave the arena and return to your warm, soft bed back at the hotel. However just as you went to leave Hangman Adam Page came into your dressing room. “Hey Y/N, heck of a match tonight, congrats on successfully defending that title” He says as he gives you a congratulatory hug. You and Adam had been friends for many years, ever since ROH when Adam debuted and you were in a singles match on the main card. You had approached Adam after the show and you both immediately became great friends. “Speak for yourself! You just had an easy 5 star match and you're taking home the belt as well, I owe you many congratulations.” You laugh as you pat Adam on the back. “I don't know how you're still standing either, I'm absolutely exhausted and I can't wait to collapse back at the hotel” you confess to Adam as you go back to packing up your gear bag. “So you would be up for a champion’s celebratory beer at the bar?” You turn back to Adam to see him hiding a smirk like he already knew you answer. “Adam, I wanna go to bed.” you whine as Adam starts to give those puppy dog eyes of his. “Come on Y/N, were drinking buddies! You wouldn't want a cowboy to drink all by his lonesome after we’ve both had such a successful night” Adam did give some good points. The second you hesitated to think about it, Adam broke out into a smile. “Great! I'll meet you in the hotel bar in 30 minutes” before you could argue Adam was already walking out giving you no option but to go drinking with your favourite southern boy.

You arrived back at the hotel to dump your luggage off back at your room first, while you were there you changed from your sweatshirt into a nice top so even if you didn't feel the best you might as well look the best. You left your room and headed towards the elevator. As you wait for the elevator, you reply to Adam’s text asking if you were on your way and if he should order you something to have it waiting for you when you get there. You got onto the first elevator that came, still on your phone you glanced up to push the button as you hit send on your demands for a free drink for Adam in exchange for your missing sleep. You put your phone back into your pocket when you see you're not alone in the elevator, you were joined by all 3 of the best friends. You glance away to the mirror to fix your makeup. You hear Trent and Chuck talking amongst themselves about the pay per view that had just passed. It was no surprise not to hear a word from Cassidy other than the occasional grunt and mumbled “yeah”. You feel eyes on you as you glance in the mirror to see Cassidy staring at you in the mirror through his sunglasses. You raise your eyebrow slightly as you can feel your cheeks start to warm up under the heat of his stare.

The elevator dings when you all arrive at the lobby, you immediately turn to walk out of the elevator and towards the bar where you saw nearly every AEW wrestler celebrating another amazing ppv. You spot Adam sitting at the bar with two neat whiskeys in front of him and you immediately beeline for the much needed drink. Once you sit beside Adam the drinking begins, From beers to whiskeys as long as it was alcoholic you guys were drinking it. Since you were so small people assumed you couldn’t handle it, which couldn't be more wrong considering you put away a bottle of whiskey like it was nothing. As the hours ticked the crowd started to thin out in the bar but a lot of the remaining crowd all gathered around a few tables you had pushed together so you could all laugh and chat together. You were sandwiched between Adam and Chuckie T who were deep in conversation about the ups and downs of being southern men. You were drunkenly talking across the table at Kris who was telling you about her learning to wrestle on her home planet and how it compares to earthling wrestling. You were leaning your head against Adams shoulder as you normally did when the liquor was getting to your head. You glance around at your gang of coworker who were laughing and hollering as they told stories of their travels around the world before you eyes landed on Orange Cassidy, now without his signature sunglasses it was irrefutable that he was staring argyle at you, but as you focused on him you realized he wasn’t glaring at you rather he was giving a dead stare to Adam. This was thoroughly confusing as you weren’t aware if Adam and Cassidy had any beef. You make a mental note to ask Adam about it later when you were both sober.

You excused yourself to go to the bathroom and when you return you see that Chuckie has taken your seat and Trent has taken his seat, leaving the only empty seat beside Orange. You hesitate before sucking it up and sitting beside Cassidy, hoping he won't cause a fuss since he's busy chatting to Brandon Cutler and a few others. You pick back up your conversation with Kris which was easier since you were closer to her so it was far easier to hear her. Your conversations ends and you listen to Adam’s as he drunkenly rambles on about proper horse care to Trent and Chuckie who you are not sure if they’re listening intently or too drunk to even know Adams talking. You feel something on your back and turn to see Orange resting his arm around the back of your chair. You turn to face him and he’s already staring right at you with those strikingly blue eyes. “Can I help you?” You say, attitude dripping off every word. Cassidy sighs, he glances around at everyone at the table almost to ensure no one's watching before he leans in to you. “Listen i know we haven’t exactly seen eye to eye-” You interrupt him with a laugh at his massive understatement. “I mean it's hard to see eye to eye when we avoid each other Cassidy” he rolls his eyes. “Are you going to let me finish?” his voice had an air of dominance that you had never heard before causing you to stop talking immediately. Orange pulls your chair closer to him as the group around you gets loud again. He started to speak again this time in a low voice that demanded your attention. “I know we got off on the wrong foot, but I feel I have to explain myself. I feel there has been a misunderstanding between us..” due to how close you two had suddenly become you could smell jack and coke he was sipping on. “You see sweetheart I haven't been avoiding you because I don't like you, no no no quite the opposite, I’ve been avoiding you because I'm fascinated by you, the way you carry yourself. I find you incredibly attractive.” This was the most you had heard Cassidy speak in all your years of knowing him and to say you were gobsmacked would be an understatement. All this time you thought Cassidy disliked you and this is what was happening the whole time.

As Cassidy spoke he rested his hand on the lower part of your thigh. You moved your hand to Cassidy’s side as you leaned in to whisper your response into his ear. “And here i was thinking you hated me but looking at where your hand is right now i can bet that you like me a lot more than you're letting on” the smirk on your face grows as you see a light blush grow on Cassidy’s face. You gently kiss Cassidy on the neck before you go to lean back in your chair but Cassidy doesn’t let you move too far away from him by wrapping the arm that was resting on your chair around your waist to pull you back into him. “Jesus, I always knew you’d be a tease” Cassidy growls into your ear “I just want to see how hot and bothered I get you” You run your hand up his thigh. Before Cassidy can reply in your back and forth he's interrupted by Adam. “Hey Y/N, I wanna head back to my room, help me up” You turn in your chair to see Adam doing grabby hands towards you. You burst out laughing at Adam showing how much of a baby he is. “Yeah ok Hangy lets get you back to your stables” you turn back to Cassidy to see him not looking at you but instead doing his usual too cool for school face, you grab a napkin off the table and a pen from your purse to scribble down your hotel room number. “When you finish up here come see me” You hand Cassidy the napkin and wink before you turn to help Adam out of the bar.

Adam was relying his entire weight on you as you approached his hotel room door, he was chatting your ear off about how fun the night was and how glad he was to have a friend like you. You led him into the room before unceremoniously dumping him on his bed. He Immediately kicks off his boots before he starts to undress himself. “Jesus, Ok Adam at least give me some sort of warning before you decide to get naked” You say over your shoulder as you turn to walk out of the room and to return to your own. “Ok night night Y/N” You couldn't help but laugh as you hear Adam wish you a good night, completely ignoring his half assed strip tease he just gave you. The second you shut Adams door behind you the anxiety in your stomach builds, what if Cassidy doesn't show but what happens if he does show up. The elevator ride from Adam’s floor to your own feels like an eternity. You get off the elevator and head towards your room. Once inside you put your bag down and take off your jacket. The pacing begins some time after that. You were a nervous wreck as you touched up your makeup and fixed your outfit waiting for Cassidy to show up.

When you finally hear a knock at your door, you wait a few seconds to catch your breath before you look through the peephole to see Cassidy looking as nonchalant as ever. You open the door and before you can even greet him. Cassidy pushes past you into the room, slamming the door and pushing you up against it. You can feel his lips ghosting your own as you get lost in his gorgeous ocean coloured eyes. You lean up and Cassidy smashes your lips together in a wild and passionate kiss. Your hands went to wrap around Cassidy’s neck as his hand began roaming up and down your side, slipping under your shirt and massaging at the skin. His hands slide into your bra as he squeezes your tits causing you to gasp and that allows him to slip his tongue into your mouth. “Jump” he growls against your mouth as his hands lower to grab the backs of your thighs as you follow his command and wrap your legs snuggly around his hips.

He walks you both towards your bed before he drops you onto the bed. You bounce as your ass collides with the soft surface. Your body lights up as Cassidy scans your body as he towers over you. You reach up and grab him by the collar to drag him down to smash your mouths back together. His hands return to roaming your body before he begins to tug your shirt up. You take the hint and strip off your shirt. Cassidy immediately attacks your chest with nips and open mouth kisses. You arch your back to get more from pressure and attention from Cassidy’s mouth while his mouth travels down your stomach. You giggled when he reached your happy trail, he eyed you as he began to unbutton your jeans. You raised your hips to make it easier to pull your jeans and your panties off completely and Cassidy throws them haphazardly behind himself. Cassidy drapes your thighs over his shoulder as he begins to lay soft kisses and gentle bites along the insides of your thighs. He finally starts to lay kisses and kitten licks along your slit as your whines become full on moans at the pleasure you're receiving. His hands have a deadly grip on your hips keeping you bolted to the edge of the mattress meaning you can't do anything but lay there and take it as you start to be devoured. Cassidy’s kitten licks turn to long swipes of his tongue and his gentle kisses turn to toe curling pleasure as Cassidy sucks at your clit. Cassidy ate you out like a madman as you writhed and moaned below him. He eased a finger into you as you cried out his name, begging him for more. The coil in your abdomen tightened and tightened as Cassidy slid a second finger into you using his spit and your wetness as lubricant. He then begin scissoring and fucking you with his long, thin fingers. Knuckles nudging your G spot at the perfect pace as he thrust his fingers at an inhuman speed. “A-a-ahh C-Cassidy I’m g-onna c-cum” You cry out. Cassidy sucks on your clit to push you over the edge and you throw your head back.

You gripped his hair as you came down from your orgasm, you pull him up to kiss him and you groan as the taste of yourself fills your mouth. Your hands trail down his body as you tug at the hem of his shirt because him wearing any clothes is getting aggravating. He smirks at your need to see him naked as soon as possible. He grants your requests and you immediately attack his collarbone and chest with kisses and bites, he lets out a low moan when you suck on a sweet spot where his neck meets his shoulder causing him to suddenly grind into you. The feeling of his denim against your bare crotch caused a weird but euphoric rush to run through your body as he began fumbling with his jeans button. You place your hands over his in an effort to calm his nerves, you successfully get his jeans undone and he strips them off and throws them in the same direction that he threw yours. You had seen Cassidy without his shirt on before and you had seen him in wrestling trunks as well but seeing him towering above you in nothing but his boxers made you speechless at just how ungodly attractive he was. His slander build hid how much power and strength he had. You pulled Cassidy down to kiss him and you used this momentum to flip you both over so you were straddling Cassidy. Cassidy raises his hips to throw his boxers off, his hard dick stands up against his stomach and you grind against it for friction against your clit. He stills your hips by grabbing you and teasing your hole with his erection. You whined as Cassidy’s grip on your hips prevented you from sinking down on him.

Cassidy smirked up at you as he lined himself up and slowly lowered you onto himself. The girth of it begins to override your senses as all you can think about is the stretching feeling as Cassidy pushed himself to the hilt. You sit flush against his hips when Cassidy starts to shallowly thrust up into you and your moans turn to cries when his tip perfectly nudges against your G spot. You place your hands against his chest for leverage and you can feel his rapid breathing beneath your palms. His thrusts become violent as his cock starts to throb inside of you. His hands trail up your body to squeeze and tease with your tits as you rode his cock like there was no tomorrow. You could tell Cassidy was close to cumming by the bright red flush of his face and chest and the groans that were just now becoming audible as he increased in volume the closer to finishing he got. Your hips started to stutter as your body tensed with how close you were. Cassidy lets his hand fall back down your body as he starts to rub tight circles on your clit causing you to be pushed over the edge as the coil in your stomach snaps and a rush of electricity zaps through your body. You clench on Cassidy and it feels as if you milk him of every drop of cum as his cum shoots, hot and thick into you. The aftershocks ripple through both your bodies as you fall forward onto Cassidy.

After you both have caught your breath, you roll off of Cassidy to allow him to go to the bathroom. You can't help but stare at his bare ass as he walks away. You start to giggle before Cassidy turns back to you with a raised eyebrow. “I hate to see you leave, but i love to watch you go” He barks with laughter at what a horrible line that was. “You already got in my pants, you don't have to use bad pick up lines on me now.” You laugh at the savage rejection your brilliant line got. You stand on wobbly legs as you reach for a random shirt to wear to go to sleep in. Cassidy comes back from the bathroom with a washcloth and hands it to you and you wipe yourself off before throwing the cloth back towards the bathroom and curling up into bed. You notice Cassidy is still standing beside the bed not looking directly at you but darting his eyes around the room as if he's never been in a hotel before. You realize he’s debating whether to stay or go, so you make that decision for him by lifting up the blankets and patting the empty space. “Come on, cool guy, it's cuddle time.” He tries to hide it as he climbs in beside you but you see that small smile on his face as you pull him into your nest of comfort. “Hey Y/N?” you hear Cassidy ask after you turn the light off. “Yeah Orange?” your brows furrow slightly at what Cassidy could be gearing up to ask. “Are you wearing my shirt?” you breathe a sigh of relief at the simple question. “Um yeah” you say, gauging his reaction, silently hoping he's not mad. “Hm.. Cool” He pulls you closer as you start to fall asleep to the even beat of his heart.

#orange cassidy #orange cassidy imagines #aew imagines #aew #aew smut #wrestling #wrestling smut #best friends #Hangman Page

145 notes · View notes

crispyjenkins · 4 years

Note

JangObi soulmate mark au where all Mandalorians know/can sense when someone is marked with their Mandalor [with Jango leading Mandalore as Mandalor after Jasters abdication and no clan wars]

(this is late because it turned into A Thing. and i love the Thing, but it’s still late.

i combined these ‘cause i got them within a day of each other and i thought, what’s better than an undercover meet-cute? undercover meet-cute with soulmates (ノ*´◡`) also this is a meet-ugly. anyways.

just want to touch on that this ‘verse absolutely includes poly soulmates of many forms and numbers, jangobi just happen to have a mono relationship in this based on the prompts 😌)

“Your sur'gaankar will not share your symbol, you cannot simply look for a match, kih’vod,” Arla teases, poking at Jango’s bare chest where the head of his roughly-drawn mynock leers at them from over his heart. “Marks are companions, not twins; no one soul should be more important than another, so the Ka’ra gave us two. Who knows what your sur'gaankar's is, it could be of something that hasn’t even happened to you yet.”

Seven year-old Jango wrinkles his nose down at his soulmark like it’s personally offended him. And it has. “Why the kriff do you get a beskad from your sur'gaankar and I get a bloody mynock?”

Arla bursts into laughter and hopes their parents aren’t listening.

“I beg your pardon.”

The woman’s grin only widens, leaning right into Obi-Wan’s space, and he hadn’t really counted on running into any supercommandos until Sundari. “‘Haven’t seen your crest before,” the woman repeats, knocking on the painted crest on his chestplate. He had let Master Nu pick it for this assignment, he didn’t want to accidentally end up with a known clan symbol and have to explain any familial relation; she had said it hadn’t been used since before the Coruscant Temple was built, so there shouldn’t be any confusion.

“And,” she had added, tapping two fingers on the side of his neck, “it matches you rather nicely, doesn’t it?”

And he supposes it does, a crane wrapped around a spike of wheat, but he now wishes it were something perhaps a bit less memorable.

“My clan hasn’t been back to Mandalore space in a few generations,” Obi-Wan lies with his best apologetic smile, easily charming the other Mando as he tucks his helmet under his arm and tries to turn back to the ration stall he’d been restocking from. The Keldabe marketplace bustles around them, and Obi-Wan thinks it’s a miracle the woman had even spotted his armour through the crowd, with how tightly species of all sorts press together and jostle them along their way.

“I’m Kryze clan,” she announces, wriggling around an Esperion to plant herself next to Obi-Wan, giving the rations a passing glance before focusing back on her captive audience.

He holds back a sigh, pulling up his mental clan map that he had studied on the jump to Mandalore. “I’ve only been planetside for an hour,” he admits with that same smile as he pays for his box of jerky and taps a little salute to the stall owner. “I thought the Kryzes were further up towards Sundari?”

Kryze bounces along behind him, red hair catching the sunlight quite nicely; Obi-Wan can’t fathom why she’s still following him. “Most of the family is, yeah, I’m the only supercommando. Where’re you from, burc’ya? Your accent sounds funny.”

He gives a bewildered laugh at that; had she never been to the Core? Both ducking into a dimly-lit tech shop, Kryze waves at the Mon Calamari behind the counter like old friends.

“‘Family’s split between Coruscant and Odos,” Obi-Wan decides on, which would explain both his Core accent and why his Mando’a is more slurred than what’s spoken on Mandalore. “You got a first name to go with that clan?”

Kryze’s smile turns playful, not quite flirtatious, and Obi-Wan wonders if she’s already found her starmark. “Bo-Katan, but Haat’ade can call me Bo. And are you?”

He raises a brow through a shelf of droid parts. “Am I what?”

“Haat’ade,” Bo-Katan grins, staying closer to the door while Obi-Wan collects a few upgrades for his speeder. “You don’t seem like a Journeyman Protector, but you’re clearly a fighter. So. Haat Mando’ade?”

“Can I be Haat’ade if I haven’t answered my Mand’alor’s call even once?” It’s an amusing thought, to be seen as Mando enough to qualify for the ruler of Mandalore’s supercommandos; he doubts Bo-Katan would be quite so kind if she knew he wears their armour in deception. “No, burc’ya, one cannot pick and choose from the Resol’nare. I’m as good as dar’manda out here.”

Humming in thought, she skips to join him at the counter to watch him try to haggle a lower price on his goods. “To be fair, you said your clan hasn’t been around other Mando’ade in a while, ‘lek? Hells, do you even know who the current Mand’alor is?”

Obi-Wan doesn’t answer until he knows he’s not being ripped off by the Mon Calamari, and slips his new goggles around his neck. “Only his crest,” he says, and it’s only slightly a lie: the Republic has little to no sway in Mandalore space, he doubts anyone further than Concordia knows the Mand’alor’s full name. “Tell me, are you part of the recruiting committee?”

Bo-Katan throws her head back to laugh, and it’s a good laugh, bright and sincere, still a little childish at the edges. “No, but I liked the look about you,” she teases, leaning on the counter. “You seemed... warm.”

He lifts a brow again, wondering if maybe she’s Force sensitive. “I’ve never been called that before.” Which also isn’t exactly a lie.

“Mm, maybe I just liked finding another redhead.” She smiles and wrinkles her nose cutely. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed that you didn’t give your name, stranger. Secrecy will only get you so far here.”

“And if I wasn’t planning on staying?”

“Then you should still tell me your name because I asked so nicely.” Batting her eyelashes, she sets her helmet on the counter to cross her arms, the Mon Calamari grumbling but not telling them to leave just yet.

“Vhett,” Obi-Wan laughs, securing his new parts and his credit pouch in his pack so he doesn’t lose them to the sticky fingers in the marketplace. “Benyamin Vhett.”

When he looks back at his new companion, her smile has disappeared for a troubled sort of blankness, as she looks at him even more critically.

Then her surprise and glee is a flash in the Force, so bright it’s blinding as she launches back to her feet, grin returning with such a fury that Obi-Wan doesn’t even stop her from getting right back into his space.

She must find some sort of answer in his face, because she puts a hand on his cheek with her eyes positively shining. “Utreekov!” she exclaims gleefully, “How could you string me along like that?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“It figures you’d be just as difficult as him,” she says, spinning around to snatch up her helmet before grabbing his arm and yanking him back onto the street. “You should have told him when you got here, he— Corellian Hells, is this why he’s been disappearing off into Hutt Space?”

Something in the Force tells Obi-Wan to hold his tongue, to let Bo-Katan guide him through the market as quickly as the crowds allow — some citizens even bounce out of their way once they get a good look at Bo-Katan. Obi-Wan’s been a Shadow too long to get lost even in a busy city like this, but he still has to concentrate to memorise the path she takes him, out of duracrete into clay and wood buildings that bake under the sun and whisper history far more alive than Obi-Wan is used to.

She kicks open the door to an ancient-looking cantina that Obi-Wan doesn’t have time to read the name of before Bo-Katan is dragging him bodily inside and shouting over the din, “Mand’alor! I’ve got your sur’gaankar!”

Something like terror lodges in Obi-Wan’s throat as every commando in the cantina freezes and stops talking all at once, staring at them in the sunlit doorway like the second coming of the Sith. Then all heads snap just as quickly towards a table near the back — all except one man lounging at the table who still stares at Obi-Wan with more than surprise, and this is where Obi-Wan’s entire mission falls apart. This is where every commando realises Obi-Wan isn’t whoever Bo-Katan seems to think he is, this is where they call his bluff and he blows his entire cover, and Quinlan is going to make dick jokes at his funeral.

Bo-Katan smirks and marches right for the man, pulling a shell-shocked Obi-Wan through the cantina until she releases him to lean over the man’s table— the Mand’alor’s table. Obi-Wan wonders if he can somehow make it out one of the windows before anyone grabs him.

“So, ori’vod,” Bo-Katan drawls, clearly far from meaning it affectionately, “when were you gonna tell the rest of the Haat’ade that you’d already found your soulmark, hm?”

Ohh, and there goes Obi-Wan’s breathing.

This “ori’vod” blinks, first at Bo-Katan, and then at Obi-Wan, and he just had to be attractive, didn’t he. The Force couldn’t give Obi-Wan one break and make him someone, anyone, that didn’t shine quite like he does in the low-light?

“I have never seen this man before in my life.”

Obi-Wan lets out his breath, mentally preparing himself for the whole cantina to descend on him.

But Bo-Katan just stares back at the Mand’alor and, Obi-Wan looking around at other commandos, everyone seems to be in disbelief of him, and not— not Obi-Wan. Which is just a strange cherry to top his already frankly ridiculous day, especially when Bo-Katan leans closer to her Mand’alor to squint at him.

“So he’s just some other ‘Vhett’, then?”

Obi-Wan licks his lips. “Bo—”

“No, no, I wanna hear what excuse he tries to come up with when we can all feel it.”

Embarrassment prickles Obi-Wan’s neck, and feels even less in control than he had a moment ago; he doesn’t remember learning anything about commandos being able to feel things about their leader, but to be fair, he can’t remember much of any of his lessons right now.

A Mando in gold armour across the table from Jango takes off their helmet, revealing a Rattataki that stares him down with a meaning far deeper than Obi-Wan is privy to just then.

“Mand’alor,” they say, tapping their first knuckle over the left side of their chest, and Obi-Wan’s neck prickles again.

And then every commando in the cantina does the same, tapping the chest of their beskar’gam and nodding towards Jango, as if one entity, as if they had rehearsed it; the prickle turns to a burn, Obi-Wan darting a hand up to his throat as something shifts in the Force.

Bo-Katan finally seems to be catching on that they truly don’t know each other, but instead of angry, she perks up and yanks Obi-Wan closer to the table. “He’s from Odos, he has no idea what’s going on,” she says as Obi-Wan stumbles over his own feet. “Congrats, Mand’alor, I found your sur’gaankar for you.”

Obi-Wan winces before he allows himself to finally meet Jango’s gaze, and doesn’t know what to make of what he finds: a curious sort of trust, disbelief but acceptance, and it’s only when Jango gets to his feet that Obi-Wan realises no one had said his name. That the wheat fronds over his collarbones and around his neck have never bothered him before.

That he’s probably going to have to call Quinlan to finish the job in Sundari.

Mando’a: sur’gaankar — “soulmate”, lit. “picture heart” from sur’gaan “picture” and kar’ta “heart” kih’vod —”little sibling” (’vod’ most often used in fandom as “brother”; ‘kih’ intentionally used instead of ‘ika’) Ka’ra — an ancient Mandalorian story, ruling council of fallen kings, “stars” beskad — traditional Mandalorian curved saber made of beskar. burc’ya — friend (also used ironically or sarcastically) Haat’ade — lit. “true child of Mandalore”, True Mandalorians (slang shortened to Haat'ad/e) Mand’alor — “Sole ruler”, contended ruler of Mandalore. Resol’nare — “Six Actions”, the six tenets guiding Mando life ‘lek — “yeah”, short for elek, or “yes” utreekov — “idiot,” “fool,” lit. “empty head” ori’vod — “big brother”, either older sibling or a special friend (used here ironically) beskar’gam — Armour made of beskar, “Mandalorian Iron” that was actually probably a steel alloy

457 notes · View notes

fleckcmscott · 3 years

Text

Stepping Stones - Chapter 2

Chapter links: 1

Summary: Y/N and Arthur share a delightful life, one that isn’t perfect but wholly theirs. When his struggles take a serious turn, she's surprised by the toll it exacts. Though the steps they'll have to take aren't easy, walking them together makes all the difference.

Warnings: Angst, Swearing, Struggles with mental illness

Words: 3,739

A/N: Once again, a heartfelt thanks to @sweet-nothings04 for offering to beta-read this story and her encouragement. Her contributions have been invaluable! Also, thank you guys for your support! I hope you continue to enjoy this story. And don’t worry: there may be angst - but there’s love, too.

If you have any thoughts or questions, please comment, feel free to message me, or send me an ask! I’m still working on requests and Way Back Home!

Y/N wasn't used to being searched. It'd last happened at the District Courthouse when she'd gotten in the wrong line and nearly wound up in the jury room for a murder trial. At least the stout woman in Arkham's visitor entrance lobby was more pleasant than the bailiffs.

Unassuming in a white polo shirt and black pants, her nametag introduced her as Gladys, and the split "I Can Help!" sticker along the top cemented her as a fixture. She was friendly for a Gothamite, commenting on the sunny weather while unceremoniously dumping the contents of Y/N's handbag onto a plastic table pad. Asking about the ride over as she politely ignored tampons and confiscated a nail file. She spelled Y/N's name back to her before jotting it on the sign-in sheet and offered a genuine smile. "You have a nice time with your husband, dear. Just check out with me before you leave."

Visitor's badge pinned above her left breast, Y/N adjusted the collar of her red silk blouse, ensured the heart pendent around her neck was centered, and pushed through the door marked "Visitation."

Her kitten heels click-clacked across the checkerboard linoleum floor. The cafeteria was large, like an elementary school gymnasium without the scoreboards. Lack of funding had turned the once pristine walls to the off-white of a bathtub that had seen too few scrubbings. Large windows dotted them in sets of two, each covered with grate from the inside. Metal fans were riveted to their frames, a poor attempt to compensate for the lack of fresh air. To her left, six rows of steel tables stretched halfway across the room, about a third full of staff and patients, family members and friends. A metal buffet stood to her right, along with a sign stating a menu of beef cutlets and gravy would be served at 5:30 PM. A pony wall separated a family area on the far end. She spotted a patient with his wife and daughter watching cartoons together, ones that were old enough for Y/N to have grown up on.

It struck her how average the place felt, similar to the hospital back home she'd spent far too many hours in. It made sense: the people here were patients like any other, even if they were under lock and key. When she headed to the aluminum coffee urn on a rickety steel cart, there was a woman, around thirty, making conversation with a new wave chick, holding a ragged teddy bear and pulling her hair. Their eyes met and Y/N attempted a friendly smile. Once she'd purchased two cups, she sat by a window and crossed her legs, foot swinging back and forth as she sipped the stale liquid.

She tried to quell her nervous anticipation. Due to his time of admittance, Arthur's forty-eight-hour observation period had stretched late into Thursday night, well after visiting hours. Tasks big and small had punctuated the wait. One of Arthur's clients called to confirm a birthday party, and Y/N, hazy from lack of sleep, explained there'd been a family emergency.

Then it dawned on her that she'd have to find Arthur's gig list, which meant rummaging through his desk, a private space she'd respected since presenting him with it for their anniversary. Thank god he no longer locked the drawers, because she had no idea where he kept the key. (There were only so many hiding places in their three-room apartment, but she had no desire to search every nook and cranny.) The yellow legal pad resided in the top left drawer, under a prop catalog and kraft paper notebook. After ringing Gary and asking him to fill in ("I'm not sure I can do all these, but I can mention them at HaHa's." "That'd be great but don't get yourself in trouble. And, please, leave out Randall."), she telephoned eight households and three businesses with his contact information and apologies.

She worked extra hours in the evening to make up for the time she'd inevitably take off when Arthur was home, an arrangement that wasn't strictly legal, but she didn't see the harm in. Her colleagues graciously ignored the number of personal calls she made, to ask how Arthur was doing and learn about policies. While he wasn't yet rational, staff said, he was cooperative. Well, mostly cooperative. He'd eaten breakfast and referred to everyone as sir or ma'am, but he'd also caused a ruckus when he'd come to and found his wedding ring missing. They'd made an exception to the no jewelry rule and given it back. Personal clothing wasn't permitted, either, besides underwear, and toiletries were out of the question. It irked her - he deserved the dignity of his own hairbrush - but she didn't want to single him out by arguing for further favors. So she shuttled over a week's worth of briefs on her lunch break, chest tight as she gave it to the man with headphones at reception.

Despite the setting, despite the weight of not knowing what mood he'd be in, a thrill bubbled through her veins. Whenever a silhouette appeared behind the glue chip glass of the patient entrance, her pulse skipped. Y/N knew it was silly to expect a lot this first visit but she couldn't help it. She missed him. She missed him. Like it had been thirty days instead of three.

It took about six minutes for the door to crack an inch, and a full ten seconds for it to open completely. An orderly propped his weight against it, pointing in her general direction with his head. She stood and smoothed her palm down her A-line skirt, ensured the hem was at her knee. Maybe it was selfish, perhaps even foolish, but she hoped the surprise would be a highlight of Arthur's day, make him feel better, and she hoped seeing him would be one of hers. He was still her partner, after all. Still her Arthur. That would never change.

Clad in white scrubs and white shoes and about twenty feet away, Arthur stepped over the threshold and scanned the room. She gave him a modest wave when she caught his eye. His approach was more tentative than she would have liked, his steps shorter than usual, fists balled at his sides. As he drew closer, she noted the oiliness of his hair, the two-day black and grey stubble on his chin. His crow's feet had grown deeper, his eyelids slightly purple. Exhaustion dripped from every pore. The cut on his forehead had scabbed over into a thin line, quite modest considering its origin and how much he'd bled.

But he was as beautiful to her as always. The hint of a smile tipped her mouth. "Hi, Arthur."

"Hi," he said lowly. A reservation she barely recognized clouded his light green irises.

Part of her began to suspect popping in like this had been a mistake. Giving up wasn't in her nature, however, especially when it came to the love of her life. She forged ahead, closing the gap between them. Dr. Kellerman had advised her to let Arthur set the pace of their visits, to offer support while respecting his boundaries. Yet, touching him had become as vital to her as breathing, and it didn't occur to her to ask for permission before she reached to cup his face.

His skin felt papery under her fingertips, and red, flakey spots of dermatitis bloomed next to his nose and below his eye. He smelled of cheap bar soap and detergent, though whiffs of his woodsy masculine scent lurked underneath. But his clothes were clean and fit him well, better than half his own wardrobe. "I'm so happy to see you," she said, tracing his sharpened cheeks.

He nodded weakly, lips pursed into a grimace of disbelief. "Good."

"I got us some coffee. We can sit here or on one of the sofas."

"Here's fine."

She took his hand and led him to their table, itching for him to entwine their fingers, lamenting a little when he didn't. While he followed closely, his posture radiated tension like an oven radiated heat. Rather than the gait they'd adopted over the years, he moved as if he was afraid to touch her, as if he feared she'd disappear. Or reject him. Once he was situated and stirring sugar into his cup, she sat beside him and bumped their legs, refusing to let his fears go unchallenged. "How's your room?"

"It's okay. Just me. I'm not there much." He blew lightly on his steaming brew. "I haven't seen this part of the hospital before."

Y/N arched her brow. "No?"

"Penny had trouble getting over here to visit. When I had episodes."

Flabbergasted, a huff of disapproval escaped her. Arthur had been in out Arkham six or seven times, and Penny hadn't made it over once? According to Arthur, she'd been sick for a while, but what about twenty years ago? Even later, they hadn't had any money, which meant she would've had to care for herself while he was away. If she had had the wherewithal to go through the process of committing her son, couldn't she have at least called a cab? Y/N pushed her ire aside, not wanting it to affect Arthur. "Did you see your therapist today?"

"Mhm."

"Is he good? Does he listen to you?"

"He's fine."

She took a long drink. "Did you get the underwear I brought over?"

"Yeah." he sighed, tipping his head back to stare at the ceiling. "They wrote my name on the waistband."

"I'll get new ones," she said, tapping her chin in contemplation, opting for a little cheer. "Donahue's has a racy number from Mad Mod. How'd you feel about zig-zag bikinis in maroon?" Instead of the laugh she'd craved, the incredulous smirk he saved for ridiculous suggestions, his knees quaked, bouncing and bouncing, freshly wound springs in bleached cotton.

None of this was going as she'd pictured.

Self-consciousness was atypical for her, a personality trait she'd shed in her late twenties after a failed marriage and the beginning of her parents' declines. Being with Arthur felt secure, open, even during his worst days. When he'd discovered his mother's Arkham file, learned the details of his abuse. Or the weeks after she'd passed and any chance of finding out more about himself, the truth about his father and chance to get a crumb of paternal affection, had died along with her.

Gathered at this table with her husband and bad coffee, old insecurities returned with the force of a subway careening at full speed. She sought to encourage him but didn't want to dismiss his feelings, harken back when he'd been burdened with "Happy." Her questions were obviously getting on his nerves - she was at a loss as to how he'd react to more of them. Their banter had vanished. The clues she had to follow were based on an old map, comprised of well-worn paths to joy she could walk with her eyes closed. Now those paths were overgrown with weeds.

But she wouldn't stop trying to trim them. Some shears were in reach: a woman's magazine lay abandoned on a nearby table, famous for its relationship quizzes and bedroom advice. She snagged it, scooted her chair closer to Arthur, and flipped through the glossy pages until the headline "Are You Meant To Be?" screamed in bright pink font. She cleared her throat and read aloud. "'You and your husband are shipwrecked on a desert island. You can take any household item with you. What item would you bring?'" She paused, then went with what first came to mind. "Toothbrush. I can't expect you to kiss me when I-"

"Why are you acting like this?"

Her gaze locked on him. "Like what?"

"Like I haven't fucked everything up."

Automatically, she reached for his thigh, not heeding the angry twitch of his jaw. "You haven-"

He batted her arm away, inadvertently knocking the magazine to the floor. "Don't lie to me," he rasped. "I don't like you seeing me like this. I don't want you to have to come visit and pretend." He wiped his nose with the back of his hand, an anger she recognized as shame dripping from every word. "Can you please just go?"

Pain lanced through her, pain she hadn't felt since her father, deep in the throes of dementia, had accused her of stealing from him. Her lashes lowered to hide her hurt. Arthur acting like this was proof of how out of sorts he was, how much he was struggling with his illnesses. But it didn't make his behavior any easier to take, even if she firmly believed it should. She had to try to accept him as he was in the moment. To forgive him and herself for pressing him too far, too quickly. To listen to his request for time, the way he'd listened to hers after the Murray show, giving her the gift of patience and understanding. A gift he also deserved.

Pushing herself to stand, she glanced at the orderly and lay a gentle palm on Arthur's back. To her relief, he didn't retreat. "I'm here if you need me," she said softly. "If you feel up to it, give me a ring. We could both use a joke or two." Fingertips caressed his distended shoulder, and she pecked the crown of his head, breathed in the oily musk of his scalp. Not entirely pleasant but him all the same. "We'll see each other soon. Get some rest and remember I love you."

~~~~~

"This woman wandered in off the street the other day. Pointy-toed shoes, fur coat, pillbox hat like she thinks she's Jackie Kennedy..." Perched on Y/N's side of the bed, Patricia dunked her orange pekoe teabag, gave it a good squeeze, laid it on her saucer. "She wanted to sue the Wayne Estate for damages to her Bentley, because Thomas Wayne had broken a legally binding oral agreement - she must have read a legal thriller and gotten haughty - to fix the potholes in Old Gotham when he was mayor. I told her to complain to Public Works, but she decided to camp out at your old desk to clip her nails. Finally, Matt had enough and offered her a phone call to Gotham PD or ten bucks for her trouble." She shook her head with a chuckle. "What a jackass. Retirement can't come soon enough."

"Don't wish your life away," Y/N retorted, inadvertently quoting a pamphlet she'd gotten from the Arkham gift shop, "Care for the Caregiver." The title had made her balk: Arthur bathed himself, fed himself, knew who she was. But it had been a straw to hold onto, albeit feebly. She retrieved a curved, wooden hanger from the closet and stuck one end in the arm of her freshly ironed blouse. "Besides, you've been working since you were sixteen, right? I give it a year before you'd go stir-crazy."

"Actually, I've been thinking about taking a class or two at the learning center," said Patricia.

"Oh, really? What kind? Pottery, advanced baking, conversational Spanish?"

"How to find nicer friends."

Hand on her hip, Y/N smirked over her shoulder to find Patricia's teacup raised for a toast. "Let me know what you learn," Y/N said, hoisting the laundry basket onto the bed. "I could use a few pointers." She batted the older woman with a dress sock, then fished for its companion. She shook them out. Aligned the cuffs and toes, smoothed the nylon with the side of her hand, folded the fabric into thirds. The top drawer's left ball-bearing slide stuck when she tried to pull it open, and she made a mental note to ask Arthur to take a look at it.

Without warning, a profound sense of loss swept over her, flushing her cheeks, her forehead. He'd been gone almost a week, the longest they'd been apart aside from conferences and training. Her days had been blessedly busy but dragged on nonetheless, slow as the secondhand on her watch when the battery had to be replaced.

Arthur had gotten in the habit of leaving a note whenever he had an early gig or errand to run, just a few words stating where he was, that he'd be home later, that he loved her. Though she knew he was in Arkham, she couldn't stop her heart from expecting one when she made morning coffee. She ached to pull him inside before he lit a second cigarette, and for his teasing kisses when he'd resist. The way he brushed his teeth from side-to-side, eschewing her method of small circles and daily flossing. Last night, a hot flash had kept her awake, and she'd longed for the feel of his strong, slender hands rubbing refrigerated lotion into her calves, a trick he'd learned to quiet his mother when she'd gone through what he politely referred to as The Change.

Y/N had never wanted to love someone so much she needed them, but Arthur had made it safe. And now here she was, anguishing over a stubborn piece of furniture. She gave the knob another good, hard heave until it popped off into her palm. With a groan, she slapped it on the top of the dresser, between his wallet and her jewelry box.

A gentle hold on her elbow halted her. "The clothes'll keep," Patricia said.

The compassion in her voice, subtle chords that would sound like judgement to others, loosened Y/N's stance. Granted permission for her to take a break from coping and give into grief. Slinking down onto the mattress, she picked up Arthur's blue house pants from the mound of panties and trousers and hugged them to her breast.

"Your anniversary is coming up," Patricia continued. "Will Arthur be home for it?"

"Yes. Three weeks is all the insurance will pay for, and Dr. Kellerman said we were lucky to get that." Most patients were discharged after two, even if they had nowhere else to go.

"How is he? Do you think he'll be ready then?"

"I'm not sure. He barely comes to the phone." She'd tried letters, too. Written on her office letterhead, declarations of her support and affection that were as stilted as the motions she regularly drafted. Something for him to read when they couldn't speak, when they couldn't touch. But he hadn't responded.

Although Y/N was the sole person he'd added to his list of allowed visitors, he hadn't signed the release. Sure, she'd learn the details of his care if a court remanded him, but she wasn't about to have him declared legally incompetent, not unless everything went to shit. But she had deduced his schedule by calling and asking if he could come to the phone. He's in group, Mrs. Fleck, the charge nurse had let slip. Or, You can try in an hour. He should be out of one-on-one by then.

Therapy three times a day. Safety and daily living skills. Goal setting before bed. No wonder he hadn't had the energy to say good night.

"I know what you're going through," Patricia said. She stretched to put her empty teacup on the nightstand. "When Robert got back from Korea, he kept his distance. Buried himself in starting his business, was gone most nights on extra late repair jobs, worked, worked, worked. It was nearly a year before he really came home. But he made it and Arthur will, too."

The intimacy behind the disclosure was a welcome invitation, a hook that tugged at Y/N's core and confirmed honesty would be all right. She drew a shaky breath, fiddled with a loose thread on the hem of Arthur's pajamas. "I thought I'd seen everything. Losing my mother, going out of my mind with my father. Those were finalities I couldn't prevent." Rapid blinking fought the wetness of her eyes. She swiped at them with the heel of her hand. "If you had seen him, Patricia... I just hope Arthur understands. I don't want him to think I wanted him to leave."

"Listen to me." Patricia adopted her mentor tone and hugged her tight around the middle. "There's no way he'd believe that. Remember when we doubled at Kao Wah? When we were in the restroom, and he ordered your favorite dish without having to ask what it was? He adores you." She swept her hand through the air as if she could sweep away Y/N's woes. "You promised to take care of him through everything. You did what you had to to keep him safe. You couldn't have done anything else, Y/N. Don't doubt yourself."

After some moments Y/N nodded. "You know, my parents had a swimming hole on our property. When I was young, I used to skip stones across it and make wishes. For my doll's arm to mend, for my parents to say safe, for my sister's surgeries to go well." She chuckled and dabbed at her cheeks with Arthur's house pants. "I guess it was like praying, which I never had use for." The slightest smile edging her lips, she turned to Patricia. "Let's go to Gotham Park and throw some rocks."

~~~~~

The next morning, eleven percent of her worries cast away by a currently sore right arm, Y/N walked past Sherwood Florist, a closet of a shop around the corner from her office. Storefront freshly washed, robust floral arrangements on display in large, spotless windows, and an owner in horn-rimmed glasses checking the temperature of the nearest cooler, she decided to stop in. Yes, the florist told her, an expression of dubious curiosity on his face. They delivered to Arkham. Just include the patient's full name and ward in the address, and it'd be sent this afternoon.

She chose a squat, plastic vase filled with daisies and a yellow enclosure card with a bumblebee in the lower left corner. A bit cutsie for her taste, but it was the only neutral choice among birthdays and congratulations. She pondered what to write, pushing back the urge to ask him to reach out. A minute later, she put her pen to the cardstock. "I miss you like thread misses a needle. (Good thing you're the comedian - that was terrible.) You're not alone in this. You have my whole heart. - Y/N."

~~~~~

Tag list (Let me know if you want to be added!): @harmonioussolve @ithinkimaperson @sweet-nothings04 @stephieraptorr @rommies @fallenstarsabyss @gruffle1 @octopus-plasma @tsukiakarinobara @arthur-flecks-lovely-smile @another-day-in-chuckletown @hhandley80 @jokerownsmysoul @rafaelbottom @ralugraphics @iartsometimes

#arthur fleck #arthur fleck fanfic #arthur fleck x reader #arthur fleck x female reader #arthur fleck x ofc #joker 2019 #watchwhathappens

24 notes · View notes

mitthsyndic · 3 years

Text

I didn't have time to proofread this, so let me know if there are any mistakes! I also did a little rebranding of my blog; I changed my icon, header and user (was chlmaera).

Read on AO3.

Summary: Maul embarks on his journey to finally end things with Obi-Wan Kenobi after years of bitter rivalry. With the lingering feeling that he will not come back from Tatooine, Maul pays a final visit to the person he loved most in the galaxy: you.

Pairing: Maul x Reader angst with a bit of fluff (gender-neutral).

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 1,846.

Goodbyes

Long ago, these surroundings were all too familiar to Maul. The hum of speeder traffic could almost constantly be heard from your apartment; the first few times he'd stayed the night, it had deeply irritated him. In time, he'd learnt to appreciate the ceaseless sounds of city life as a part of your relationship, and how to focus on the noises that brought him joy instead, like your soft singing voice floating throughout your home as you went about the day. He never imagined he'd miss the cacophony of urban living, let alone that it would bring a smile to his face.

The smell of local markets and restaurants would always drift up into your apartment, but Maul much preferred the smell of your own cooking. Whenever he'd come to visit and you'd be standing in the kitchen over the stove, it would temporarily satisfy the ache he'd long had in his heart for domesticity. The ache he never truly allowed himself to give into.

The taste never disappointed him too; the number of exotic spices and flavours you'd subjected him to from your small apartment on a planet you seldom left took him all across the galaxy. You'd always have a story prepared about the meal you made; over dinner, you'd tell him all about the meal and its various components, how you'd discovered it, how you cooked it. He was certain that the love and passion you put into cooking made the meal taste better than anyone else could ever make it.

Despite the lack of space, your home was beautifully decorated; he’d always thought it was a perfect reflection of your inner self. It was so distinctly you that even when he’d been alone here your presence lingered like a veiled phantom; he found it oddly comforting. As your relationship progressed, tabletops and shelves slowly became decorated with various trinkets he’d bring back for you, such as ornaments or unique stones and shells from countless planets business with Crimson Dawn had taken him to. He’d often longed to take you with him to see the galaxy (and fulfilled that longing a few times), but he feared too much for your safety to expose your relationship to the Empire and his other enemies. He felt it pointless to regret such things now, but a part of him still wished he could turn back time and do things a little differently.

He missed the soft touch of your lips against his, and your drowsy yet delicate caresses of his horns and skin in the early hours of the morning. Physical intimacy was not something he’d often allow himself to indulge in, mostly due to his own insecurities, but there had always been something special and comforting in your affection and desire for him. He had fully trusted you with every inch of his mind, body and soul.

And yet, it had been years since he last saw you.

With the help of Ezra Bridger, Maul had finally uncovered the location of his life-long nemesis, Obi-Wan Kenobi. He had practically fallen into his ship and punched in the coordinates, eagerly rushing to put an end to his rivalry with him. Just as his ship had been prepared to enter hyperspace, he paused for a moment. Allowing rational thoughts to enter his mind once again, he thought about the potential outcomes of fighting Kenobi. Although he’d proved a formidable foe, Maul was rather confident in himself that he could finally kill Kenobi. And yet, he simply could not shake the feeling that he would not ever leave Tatooine once he arrived. He would usually ignore a feeling like this, and label it paranoia. But, the logical side of him acknowledged that he was a little (rather, a lot) older than their last fight. Furthermore, he’d spent another time on Tatooine to know just how dangerous it could be. Eventually, he concluded that it was perfectly logical (and not too dramatic) to pay you a visit again, just in case it really was the last time he ever saw you.

And here he stood now, on your doorstep, anxiously awaiting you to answer his desperate knocks. It felt like an eternity before you finally opened the door, a surprised yet pleased look appearing on your face as you recognised him beneath his dark robes.

“Maul? I… really wasn’t expecting to see you on the other side of the door.” You offered him a warm, genuine smile as you stepped to the side. “Please, come in. If you can stay, that is.” “I have a little time.” He passed you and inhaled your familiar scent, feeling slightly more at ease now you’d happily welcomed him in. He paused for a moment beside you in the doorway, and turned to you. “Thank you.”

Not much had changed since he’d last been here. There were a few more trinkets and paintings, he presumed from your own travels since the last time you’d met, but every gift he’d given you remained proudly displayed around your home. The calming familiarity of your apartment brought him solace. He took a seat, and gestured for you to join him as you closed the door.

“What’s wrong? You seem… troubled.” You read his face with such ease as you settled beside him despite the many years you’d been apart. Sometimes, it appeared you knew him so well he felt certain that you were secretly incredibly strong with the Force.

“Nothing’s wrong. I’m just going on a… mission. I have a purpose. I thought I would stop by on the way.” He knew that you could tell he was lying.

“Good. It’s good to see you.” You stood, and looked over to the kitchen.

Despite your friendly demeanour, it was apparent that you felt a little awkward around Maul. When you were lovers, you would have pushed Maul to tell you how he was really feeling, and he’d eventually relent and allow you to reassure him as best you could. In that moment, he longed for you to pry into how he was feeling, or how he’d been. He knew that it was selfish of him to expect things to be exactly as they had been all those years ago due to the nature of your break-up.

“Can I get you anything?” You asked, eyes glancing between the kitchen and your feet, looking at everything except for Maul.

“No, please sit. I want to talk to you.” He pleaded, a little more desperately than he’d meant to come across. But, you obeyed, and sat beside him once again.

“The nature of my mission is dangerous, to say the least.” He sighed, suddenly feeling the tension that had been apparent to you since he entered. After a moment’s contemplation, he took in a deep breath, and decided to be honest with you. “I am confident as ever in myself, but since I left I have been unable to shake this feeling that I will not return from my mission. I knew I had to see you one last time before I died.” “And if you live?” You inquired, ever the optimist. Your question was sincere, though. He could tell from your expression that you believed him, but were doubtful that his feelings would come to fruition.

“Then I shall finally allow myself the life I have always wanted. I did not leave you because I didn’t love you; for my entire life, I have always been serving a greater evil than myself. Sidious, Mandalore, Crimson Dawn. Hatred and anger have always been my driving factor, and the way I connect myself to the dark side of the force. But, our relationship taught me that there is more to life than revenge and fury. Love, passion, domesticity, you. You taught me to live my life differently from the way I always had; I let myself love and be vulnerable and enjoy the smallest joys the galaxy has to offer.”

“Then why did you leave?” A question that he knew was coming, yet the hurt in your voice wounded him all the same. He couldn’t bear to meet the tearful, pained look in your eyes.

“I could never let myself be vulnerable and happy. There is comfort in familiarity; I understand how to be angry, violent and selfish. I find it hard to understand how to fully love and give myself to you the way you are able to with me. It was easier to go than to stay and learn about the other side of me.” He locked eyes with you, allowing himself to shed silent tears with you. “I feel as though I am finally ready. That is, if you’ll have me. I didn’t think to ask how you’ve been all this time.” “I’ve been good. Nothing much has changed, but I’m happy.” You broke eye contact with Maul, mustering up the courage to be as honest with him as he had been with you. “It took years to recover from the heartbreak of losing you, and yet I never truly healed from it. No other lover could have ever filled the void you left. But, I learnt to be happy without you, and in time, my anger towards you subsided, and I forgave you. I understand why you left, but that didn’t make it hurt any less.”

“I’m sorry. Truly.” He reached out, and took your hands in his.

“I know.” The two of you sat in silence for a little while, adapting to each other's touch and presence once again.

“When your mission is complete, come back home to me. Life is too short to deny oneself of the things you love. We’ll adjust to however we may have individually changed over the years, and we’ll make it work. Just, promise me that this time you’ll stay.” You broke the silence, and gave his hands a gentle squeeze. They felt a little more rough than you remembered.

“I promise.” Maul felt almost overjoyed at the new incentive to kill Kenobi; he could finally let go of all his hatred, and return home to you. He stood and walked to the door, and you followed. “I love you. I always have and I always will. I’ll see you very soon.”

Maul took your head in his hands and placed a delicate kiss onto your lips. As he went to pull away you deepened the kiss, the urge to make up for lost time increasing your yearning for each other. Or was it the lingering feeling that this really would be the last time you’d ever meet?

“I love you too, Maul. Be safe for me.” You grinned, watching Maul walk away and shutting the door behind him.

The persistent feeling that Maul would not return remained in both your minds as you parted once more, but you chose to remain hopeful. Maul, on the other hand, knew his fate was clear. Regardless, for the first time in a long time, he drifted off to sleep easily, dreaming of the future that the two of you never had.

#maul x reader #lord maul #darth maul #maul #star wars #fanfic

35 notes · View notes

nbrook29 · 3 years

Text

love you to the moon and to saturn

This is part 4 of my Sander in NYC ‘verse. I posted it on ao3, but recently I’ve also been posting my fics on tumblr so here it is 😌

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Warnings: mild sexual content

* * *

Saturday, 10:00

His sleep was anxious, mind too preoccupied with stress to allow him to get a proper rest. The wake up was even worse as mere seconds after he blinked the sleep away from his tired eyes the memories of last night crept back in, flooding him with worry and making his brain replay the argument over and over again like a broken cassette. And then he checked his phone only to find a string of messages and missed calls, all from Sander, causing his stomach to twist with nerves at what they were going to say.

His abrupt leaving had been a dick move and if Sander was pissed, Robbe knew he couldn’t blame him. So he stalled, finger barely swiping at the screen as he was unsure whether to unlock it and face the consequences or maybe throw the phone back on his bedside table and bury himself under the covers to wait for his courage to come back and for his nerves to settle.

Heaving a sigh, he chose option number one because it was the only rational one.

He tapped Sander’s photo, holding his breath without even registering it.

Two seconds later he knew.

He didn’t need to worry.

Sunday 13:00

Robbe hides another smile into his glass at the thought of yesterday’s evening, trying to focus on what Marie is saying. She’s talking animatedly about a guy she met at her new internship, hearts almost flowing out of her eyes as she swoons on the wooden stool and sips her black coffee. She’s the kind of girl who falls in love quickly and falls out of love just as quick. Across from where he’s sitting, he sees Fien and Lucas rolling their eyes at her exaggerated lovesick sighes making him snort in his marshmallow latte.

“Weren’t you obsessed with that lanky guy from Starbucks last week? What happened to him?”

Marie shrugs, tossing her long brown hair back from her shoulders. “I decided he was too old for me.”

“Didn’t you say he was 21?” Robbe interjects with amusement, remembering their group messenger chat he caught up with this morning.

“Exactly!”

They all start bickering about the appropriate age difference in relationships, Robbe watching them as he munches happily on one of the soggy marshmallows he fished out from his cup, trying not to giggle at Lucas’ scandalized face at Marie calling 21 old. Robbe knows from the many stories Lucas has shared so far that his own boyfriend is a senior at college so his reaction is even more entertaining because of that.

It feels good to be around them again, Robbe thinks to himself. He’s been canceling on them way too often those last few weeks and he still feels guilty about it. They’re a fun bunch, their bantery dynamic established since day one when they all chose the middle row to sit in during their morning classes, and then promptly spent half of it bonding over the outrageous occurrence that was the absence of a coffee shop on the campus. Not long after, Robbe also discovered that apart from the passion for filmmaking, they all also like skateboarding. After that, the rest was history.

They were for sure a nice distraction from Robbe’s intrusive thoughts in the beginning of the semester. He lucked out, finding his group, his people, so early on in his college journey. But at some point even their goofiness and honest attempts at cheering him up weren’t enough. Not since the news from Sander came that he’s staying in New York until February and since the thing with Jens.

Now, observing them from over his half-drunk coffee, lips twitching at some of the more creative but still lowkey insults Marie and Lucas throw at each other, he realizes he has really missed them. They’re like siblings, the two of them, constantly bickering and teasing one another, but it’s all good-natured and amusing to watch.

“Oh my god, let it go, children, for the love of god,” Fien cuts in abruptly, before turning her big expectant eyes on Robbe, twirling a lock of her hair around her finger and adding innocently, “I’d finally like to hear about Sobbe’s makeup.”

Heat rushes to Robbe’s cheeks and he scratches at the back of his neck, bashful all of a sudden. She’s the number one fangirl of his relationship, he has learned recently, but in a cute way, not creepy like Aaron sometimes used to be with his invasive questions. She always moans about being forever single, pouting at Robbe for some fluffy snippets and claiming in faux-seriousness that he owes it to the world to share them with others for being lucky enough to have a fairytale-like love story.

Robbe has never disclosed to them how unfairytale-like some of the details are because it’s not his story to tell. But he really likes her so he always indulges her, usually after a bit of teasing. And, sue him, but he’s proud of his relationship and the fact that he of all people can call Sander his boyfriend, so even if he brags a little, he thinks he has good reasons for it.

(He’s still kinda smug when he thinks about the time when he showed the three of them a photo of Sander, a pleased little smile on his face at their reactions and playful threats of stealing him for themselves.)

“Oh yeah, I wanna know too,” Marie agrees excitedly, scooting her chair closer to him. “You’ve been all smiley ever since you came over here so I’m guessing that hottie of yours did something right,” she ends on a teasing note, her waggling eyebrows leaving Robbe no doubts she expects some saucy details.

“Oh my god, stop,” he groans as he hides his face in his hands, his friends giggling at his embarrassment. “It wasn’t like that! We just… finally talked things out.”

Saturday, 18:00 (flashback to last night)

Robbe’s been gnawing on his bottom lip relentlessly, completely unaware, to the point it’s a few bites away from drawing blood. He can’t help but feel nervous, the cursor hovering over the 'accept' button as he's rolling his eyes on himself internally, telling himself to stop making a bigger deal out of this that it needs to be. There is a bit of embarrassment clouding his logical reasoning to be honest, embarrassment about his overreaction last night.

Was it an overreaction? He's still not completely sure, but it's not like avoiding the situation is going to magically fix everything between them. Even though he'd really like that. It feels so awkward to be in this position. Robbe doesn't know what the protocol here is. They bicker, quite often even. Fight a little too, stomping off out of each other’s room grumpily but only over stupid stuff, nothing like this.

He's walking on an unknown ground just hoping he's not going to make things worse. He desperately needs their dynamic back because he's already over it.

Not being able to share the most mundane every day stuff with each other over texts to joke about it, rile the other up or just vent about something stupid like their coffees not being hot enough on a given rainy morning sucks.

So he takes a deep breath and clicks on the button before he works himself into a never-ending second-guessing.

When Sander says a soft hi and smiles at him with the usual warmth in his eyes, something akin to relief courses through him from head to toe.

He gives him his own tentative smile and a short hi, pushing himself higher against the pillows. Before Sander can say anything more, he lets go of what has been weighing down on him the entire day.

“I’m sorry,” he starts, contrite. “About yesterday. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have just logged off like that without explanation. And then ignore your messages,” he adds after a pause because that’s what he feels most guilty about. He knows he’d freak out if Sander just cut him off without giving him an opportunity to talk things out, would worry himself sick.

Sander looks conflicted, brows knitted together, like a part of him wants to reassure Robbe because it's in his nature, but the other part is genuinely hurt. Robbe doesn't want compassion. Not for that, because he knows he doesn’t deserve it. Causing Sander distress is the last thing he wants.

"Yeah, it did suck," he finally admits after a moment passes, and Robbe finds comfort in his honesty. It’s a good start. They won’t get anywhere with false niceties and pretending everything’s fine. Robbe tried pretending, yesterday and most of their calls before that, and it got them where they are now.

“I mean, I know you didn’t want to talk about your problems yesterday,” pausing, he scrunches up his nose a bit, “but maybe next time just don’t log off so abruptly so I know you’re okay?” his voice tilts on a hopeful note.

Robbe just nods, feeling shameful, hating that there’s not much more that he can do when he’s talking to him through his computer, and can’t exactly reach out to cuddle up to Sander’s side or kiss the underside of his jaw as a silent apology to then stay close for the rest of the evening as they heal together.

It’s frustrating and disheartening, but it affects them both the same amount and Robbe needs to remember that. Because the truth is, Sander didn’t exactly give him a legitimate reason to doubt him or to think he didn’t miss him. Those full of hurt eyes Sander gave him yesterday at the suggestion have been eating away at him all day.

Robbe just got swallowed by his own insecurities and let the little things that bothered him consume him all instead of, well. Communicating.

Sander was right yesterday. Of course he was.

He knows he has some more apologies to give.

“I’m also sorry for not telling you earlier how I felt,” he keeps pouring his heart out, “and for, you know, assuming you don’t miss me much, and-”

“Woah, hey,” Sander stops him before he can get himself deeper into the spiral. “Robbe, I fucked up too, don’t take it all on yourself.” He adjusts his laptop and Robbe can see his face clearer now, his eyes bloodshot and tired, a clear sign of a sleepless night, and the guilt clogs his throat even more now.

“I should have seen something wasn’t right.” When Robbe shakes his head and goes back to apologizing, Sander shoots him a pointed look that makes him shut up. “I should have, don’t deny it. You know, I took a long walk yesterday after you hung up, to clear my head, but also to get a perspective on our latest talks. And I felt so dumb for not realizing you were not doing okay.”

“Sander, I don’t expect you to read my mind,” Robbe tries to joke, but it falls flat even in his own ears. But he can’t bear those big regretful eyes on him. He doesn't deserve them.

“Baby, I’m sorry I haven’t been there for you the way you needed me to. Please tell me now? What’s been bothering you, hmm?”

Robbe scrubs his face trying to collect his thoughts, to find a concise way to get everything out of his chest, but he doesn’t know where to start.

“It may take a while.”

Sander makes a show of fluffing the pillow he placed against his back and getting himself more comfortable on his bed, sighing with contentment for a better effect.

“Look, I’m in my comfy clothes, got an energy drink on my nightstand, the computer battery is full and I told everyone I’m busy so they won’t nag me with anything. I’m all yours today.” He gives him an encouraging smile, fondness etched into every crevice of his face.

Robbe’s heart does a little skip at his words, Sander’s demeanor so comforting that he feels the last pieces of apprehension ebbing away, the need to vent overpowering the hesitation of showing his vulnerability.

“I think I just found myself overwhelmed with some things,” he admits quietly, picking at his nail, an absent-minded habit when he’s nervous, as he’s trying to find the right words. “A lot has changed in those last few months, almost all at once, and I kinda have trouble coping. And like,” he scoffs at himself, “I’m angry with myself ‘cause I should be enjoying most of it, being in college and majoring in something that I actually like, and it’s great, but I can’t help but focus on all the things that are different now, things that are not so great.”

Before continuing, he flicks his gaze to Sander for a second, only to then cast his eyes back to his lap. “The last two years with you were the happiest of my life, you know? After years of bullshit and constant misery and pretending to be somebody I wasn’t I-,” he sighs, bittersweet smile on his lips,”I finally found my person, you know?”

Sander mirrors his smile, but he’s frowning a little. “But you still have me,” he reminds him softly.

“I know, but it sucks when I can’t just, I don’t know, snuggle up you and forget about stuff. It’s all your fault, by the way, you’ve been too good to me and now I have withdrawal symptoms,” he pouts, and hears Sander chuckling on the other side of the screen.

“You have no idea how much I wish virtual hugs were a thing. And kisses, oh my god, kisses too. I’m so kiss-deprived. Once I finally get my hands on you, I won’t let you go for a week.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

For a short moment, Sander manages to bring a genuine smile on his face, but it quickly disappears when the reality sets back in. There are still almost four long months to get through. He watches Sander’s smile slipping off his face slowly and he knows they’re both thinking about it.

The boy sighs deeply. “You know, sometimes I feel like it was a mistake to-”

Robbe’s eyes snap to him. “No, no, no, don’t think that, it wasn’t a mistake. Please don’t feel guilty or something, that’s the last thing I want you to do,” he stresses. Sander still looks conflicted, and fuck, this is exactly what Robbe wanted to avoid.

“Hey, I’m serious. Look, you not being here is tough, but like I said, it’s just things piling up, changing. Shit like school work that has been piling up and me getting so stressed about the end-of-the-semester project because I still haven’t figured out the details. Plus people moving away, all of that makes it difficult for me to adjust. So don’t go thinking it’s because you’re the center of my universe or something,” he ends his rambling with a feigned-offended huff and Sander easily lets them slip into their usual banter.

“I’m not?! Wow, the things a guy finds out after being such a devoted and doting and loving boyfriend.” He wipes the imaginary tear, letting out a long-suffering sigh. “Such a menace, breaking my heart in half on this lovely Saturday afternoon.” He purses his lips in offence and Robbe is grateful for Sander’s attempt to lift the mood, trying to be upbeat.

He feels a tug in his chest thinking about how if Sander was here, he’d be tackling him to the nearest surface to shut him up with tickles and loud smooches and playful jabs in the sides and how they would make much more noise than necessary, acting like the rambunctious teens they are.

That’s going to have to wait too. But he discovers this thought doesn’t hurt as much as it would have yesterday because their conversation right now, this opportunity to vent and Sander’s texts last night, all of it makes him feel better, helps him see he’s not alone.

“I love you,” he blurts out all of a sudden, and it’s something he’s wanted to say since he read his heartfelt texts this morning that almost made him cry in relief.

Sander blinks a couple times, surprised, but then his previously playful face melts into such a fond look it makes Robbe blush like it was the first time he said it.

The I love you too comes right away, soft and quiet, like he’s telling a secret, and it’s heart-stoppingly precious.

To keep himself from drowning in fuzzy feelings, he shoots him a private little smile and steers the conversation back to his friends, telling him how it sucks that it’s they all now live away and how unexpectedly difficult it is to meet up. Robbe’s used to basically having everyone at arm-reach.

“We do video call, obviously, but you know, Milan is all loved up with Ralph in Amsterdam and not that keen on leaving their love nest and Zoe and Senne keep traveling between Genk and Ghent, which with Zoe’s coursework and internship is already a struggle. I don’t think they’re doing that well, actually,” he winces, remembering their last conversation.

If during freshman year somebody had told Robbe who his best friends were going to be, he’d looked at them as if they had grown two heads. Because for real, Jana’s new friend and her roommate? And school’s fuckboy?

But life’s funny like that sometimes. Moving into their apartment in his sophomore year has been one of the best decisions he’s ever made. His number one best decision is currently frowning at him from his dirty screen.

“Oh, that sucks. Do you think they’ll work it out?”

Robbe sighs deeply, propping his chin on the heel of his palm. “Senne has been thinking about finding a job in Genk so I hope so.”

Sander huffs a laugh suddenly, shaking his head. “Wow, I wish I was in his place and there were only 2 hours between us, instead of a whole ass ocean.”

“Yeah, I think once you’re back we’re gonna have a master's degree in that long distance bullshit,” Robbe smiles at him wistfully.

“Ugh, never again though. You’re not getting rid of me, it sucks without you, Robin.” He sounds so grumpy Robbe can’t help the short giggle that escapes him, but deep down he’s happy they both share that sentiment.

They’re staring at each other now, enjoying the moment before Sander shoots him a knowing look. “You haven’t mentioned Jens.”

That sobers him up enough for the fuzzy feelings to disappear from his stomach.

Jens. There’s not much to talk about really. And isn’t that a punch-in-a gut kind of truth considering it was his best friend? Isn’t it heartbreaking that Robbe didn’t even feel like fighting for that relationship and there’s a nagging voice in his head telling him that Jens didn’t either? Just a regular heated argument was enough to finally cut that last string, to put a stop to a friendship that had been hanging by a thread long before. Not that they had noticed.

He felt awful, afterwards. More alone than ever before. But deep down he knew it had only been a matter of time. He just wished Sander had been there to pick up the pieces.

“Sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” Robbe winces, going back to apologizing once he translates his feelings to words the best he can, hoping he made Sander understand.

The boy pulls a face at him, eyes narrowed as he pretends to give him a stern look. “Enough with apologizing today, okay?” He waits until Robbe nods, albeit begrudgingly, because it’s in his second nature to keep saying sorry when he knows he messed up.

He nestles against his pillows to get more comfortable as he glances to the window, registering that sometime during their call it got completely dark outside, November days getting shorter still. He can feel tiredness starting to creep into his bones, the nervous anticipation before their call he had endured all day wearing him down significantly.

There are still some things he needs to get out of his chest and Sander coaxes them gently one by one, listening to him moaning and groaning about his school course load and how he thinks he’s not skilled enough to come up with interesting ideas and being quick to cut him off and reassure him when Robbe’s words get self-deprecating. He’s so attentive and so patient with him, not even an ounce of judgement in his eyes that Robbe feels the pressure and stress that have accumulated over the last few weeks finally letting go with each word he pours out.

When the conversation eventually steers to Robbe’s uni friends and he admits sheepishly that he kinda ghosted them lately, feeling too blue to go out and have fun, Sander interrupts him mid-sentence.

“You should reach out to them, tonight.”

At Robbe’s unsure look, he continues, “If they’re as cool as you made them out to be, I’m sure they’re gonna understand you needed some time to figure things out.”

He then proceeds to cover his ears and whistle, refusing to talk more until Robbe caves and shoots a text to the group chat, trying to keep it short, but explaining things along the way and making amends. Sander’s very pleased with his persuasion skills, beaming at him when Robbe reads him the replies he gets from Lucas, Marie and Fien, wearing a small smile himself as he rolls his eyes at Sander’s smug face.

Sander then asks about his mom and it’s so sweet because he always makes sure to ask, and Robbe falls for him even more each time he does. He’s a bit reluctant when Robbe tries to make him talk about his recent days, keeps saying this call is not about him, but he gives in before Robbe gets upset about it.

Watching his eyes light up with excitement when he talks about his classes works like a balm for Robbe’s yearning heart, Sander’s genuine happiness making his own struggles worth it. It’s a nice reminder that he’s there to make his dreams come true and that it’s everything Robbe has wished for him.

When Sander talks about shenanigans with his friends, Robbe recalls the TikTok video he watched some days ago.

“Nice Michael Jackson moves, by the way,” he comments, trying to sound innocent, but it ends up coming out a little coyishly as he bites at his finger to hide his smirk.

Confusion clouds Sander’s face but only for a second. Then, his lips stretch in a wide grin and he looks very pleased with the confession. “Have you been stalking me, Robin?”

Robbe shrugs, a picture of innocence as he keeps peeking at him from under his lashes. “I might’ve seen a video or two. They’re all so thirsty for you in the comments though,” he adds, putting a note of faux-jealousy in his voice. He quickly noticed that Sander’s new uni friend is semi-popular on the app so his videos always get a fair share of comments. Ever since Sander appeared in them, the hoard of the guy’s fans has been declaring their love for Robbe’s boyfriend under every video. They mostly make him laugh, but sometimes he’ll roll his eyes at some of the raunchier ones, possessiveness that he didn’t know he had activating in his brain.

He waits for Sander’s cocky comment, but to his utter delight, he blushes deep red and scoffs.

“Shut up, it’s so embarrassing,” hiding his face in his hands, he adds, “All of my friends have been teasing me about it constantly.”

“Aww, poor you, being fawned over must be such a hardship, how do you cope?”

“Oh I don’t know, smartass, you can tell me from experience ‘cause I saw those comments under your old vlogs.”

Robbe huffs a laugh. “They were nowhere near as detailed as yours!”

“What can I say, I’m irresistible,” Sander quips back and yeah, there he is, Robbe’s favorite (cocky) dork. “If I’d known you’re my TikTok fan, I’d have sent you those videos right away so you wouldn’t have to waste your time searching for them."

Robbe sighs. “They are a nice window to your life there,” he replies offhandedly, not even registering the implied double meaning to his words, but the immediate change in Sander’s amused expression makes him aware of the slip.

Fuck.

“So you noticed. That I’ve been texting you less.”

Robbe drops his gaze, pulling the cover further up his body, feeling awkward again. He doesn’t want to make a big deal out of this.

Sander shifts on his bed, scratching at his head. “I felt like I was too much, you know? I wanted to share every silly thing with you, but then, well, it was something Josh said that I should,” he waves vaguely trying to find the right words, “cut back on my ‘running commentary’ ‘cause it’s probably annoying.”

“Tell Josh he’s stupid,” Robbe cuts in with a huff, grumpily beating his pillow into submission to make it more comfortable.

The corners of Sander’s mouth twitch at his comment, but his face remains sheepish. ��I think he was mostly joking, but it got stuck in my mind and made me question every message. In the end, I didn’t send like half of them,” he explains softly, voice colored with poorly hidden self-consciousness. “I didn’t want to give you the impression I don't have time for you, I’m sorry.”

And, fuck. They’re both idiots.

Sander’s brows shoot up when Robbe bursts into giggles out of the blue, clearly surprised with the reaction. But at this point, it feels like the only proper thing to do.

“So basically we could have avoided this whole bullshit if we just talk about all this sooner,” he groans at the realization, burying half on his face in his pillow to hide his heated face because he’s a little embarrassed he blew things out of proportion.

There’s a visible relief on Sander’s face too, eyes crinkling as he regards him with a dopey grin, and Robbe knows.

They’re gonna be fine.

“Here I thought we were masters of communication,” Sander sighs with a faux-disappointment, leaning back to smile at the ceiling. “Fuck, no more of assuming shit, what do you think?”

And that sounds like something Robbe can get behind one hundred percent, more than ready to leave their misunderstandings in the past and just do better. So he nods, chin digging into his collarbone uncomfortably with the position he’s lying in, but it doesn’t matter, he’s too preoccupied with staring at his happy face and swimming in his fuzzy feelings.

“Prepare yourself for an onslaught of photos and messages, I’m not messing around,” Sander warns, smiling at Robbe’s soft okay. “You know, just a few days ago I ended up at Pebble Beach, it was cold as all fucks, but the view was just,” he imitates an explosion over his head and Robbe giggles at his childlike enthusiasm. Then, Sander’s face softens and becomes a little sad. “That place is so romantic that it made me feel like shit without you there,” he sighs, and Robbe can relate. “I’ll take you there one day.”

“You’re gonna take me to New York?” Robbe asks, doubt lacing his voice as he cocks his brow which makes Sander scoff in indignance.

“Hell yeah! You don’t believe me? What do you think I’m doing here everyday? I’m scouting the best places for dates, finding the best skateparks and checking out all the museums so I can be the perfect guide for you!” Sander throws his hands, a duh expression on his face, but there’s a wide smile brewing on his lips letting Robbe know he’s not really offended or anything. And, honestly, Robbe just melts with his words.

“I can’t wait, baby,” he sighs dreamily, rubbing his cheek against his pillow as he gazes at him with what he’s sure is the softest look.

Sander narrows his eyes playfully from above the can of Redbull he’s been sipping on. “Don’t ever doubt I’m gonna go out of my way to impress you.”

Robbe blows him a kiss that morphs into a huge yawn, eyelids growing heavy, forcing him to blink repeatedly to stay away which prompts Sander to tease him a little about boring him, but it quickly dies out and he’s just looking at him fondly.

“You should go to sleep.” He ignores Robbe’s melodic neeees, giving him a stern look that was probably supposed to be intimidating, but he looks too amused to keep it up. Once Robbe gets his promise they will see each other tomorrow, Sander sends him several virtual kisses and goodnights before logging off.

Robbe falls asleep with Sander’s beaming face flowing through his mind.

The sleep that comes is unsurprisingly the calmest he’s had in weeks.

Sunday, 18:00

Sander: And?

Robbe: And what?

Sander: Was I right?

Robbe: About?

Sander: About your friends

Robbe: Kinda

Sander: So it means I was 😎

Robbe: :):):) yes

Sander: Thank you sander

Robbe: Thank you sander

Sander: See, you're so precious everybody's in love with you and forgive you in seconds

Robbe: 🙄

Robbe: Precious srsly?

Sander: So precious 🥰

Robbe: Omg

Sander: Haha

Robbe: We're good 😊

Robbe: But I don't think they are in love with me 😂

Sander: They better not be 🤨 I'll fight them all! 🗡💀🧟🤺

Robbe: Dork ❤

Robbe: I think they a little bit in love with u though 🤔

Robbe: They've been babbling all afternoon about how cute you are 🙄

Robbe: A g a i n *yawn*

Sander: They have good taste 🤷♂️

Robbe: Nah they just don't know your annoying habits so that's why

Sander: 😮 I don't have any how dare you badmouthing me like that

Robbe: 🥴

Robbe: You never wash your coffee cups right away so they lay around

Robbe: You always tickle me when you want sth

Robbe: You're full of corny jokes

Robbe: You eat my fries when I don't look

Robbe: You hog the covers

Robbe: And I still remember that Wednesday when you ate my last bag of chips 💔

Sander: Okay first of all

Sander: Wow

Sander: Don't hold back 🥺

Sander: Second of all

Sander: I THOUGHT THOSE CHIPS WERE MILAN'S I TOLD YOU!!!

Robbe: That's what they all say 💔

Sander: You're unfair, I thought I made up for that lil mistake 🍆

Robbe: Well you did 🙈 but I still remember 😝

Sander: Also you love my jokes

Sander: They're awesome 🤧

Robbe: I'm just messing around 😘😘

Sander: 🥰

Robbe: But I swear to god if I have to listen one more time to Marie waxing lyricals about your 'perfect moles' I'm gonna 🤮

Sander: What haha 😂

Robbe: I mean they are but like

Robbe: Chill girl he's not your man 🤨

Sander: That's right cause I'm your man 😏

Robbe: And don't you forget that

Thursday, 3:48

Soft knuckles brush his skin, body arching into the touch that turns his muscles into jelly and sends liquid fire rushing through him. He’s overheated in the best way possible, seeking out Sander’s tongue, but the boy denies him access, smirk well in place as he pulls back, green eyes cloudy from lust. He’s staring at him like he wants to eat him whole and Robbe almost whimpers, bones melting and lids closing when Sander takes the tender flesh of his neck between his teeth and bites at it ever so gently, but just enough to make Robbe see stars.

He sighs as he feels a ghost of touch on his nipple, Sander leaving a trail of kisses down his sternum as he’s moving so teasingly slow to his final destination, and he doesn’t even hesitate, spreading his legs wider around Sander’s hips in a blatant invitation, blushing hot pink when Sander sends him a fox-like grin, mouthing at his inner thigh.

The details get fuzzy for a few seconds, Robbe blinking rapidly to get his surroundings and finding himself on top of Sander, and there’s an inkling at the back of his brain telling him something’s messed up about the logistics here. He decides to ignore it, focusing back on the moment and Sander’s glistening, kiss-swollen lips, on his eyes transfixed on the place where they’re connected, and he leans down, his tongue sweeping over his Sander’s bottom lip before he starts pressing soft, spit-slick kisses into his mouth. He pushes Sander’s hands up over his head and intertwines their fingers, arching his back as he takes over, the rush of pleasure almost overwhelming him.

“Ohmygod, Sander,” Robbe breathes into his mouth. His hands are trailing all over Sander’s chest and stomach now, squeezing and rubbing almost like he’s his personal plaything.

It’s not long before Sander’s warm hands draw him back towards his chest, lips ghosting along Robbe’s, teasing, always teasing, but not granting permission to properly meet, making Robbe impatient and whine in desperation only for Sander to grin wickedly at him. He feels nails dragging along his spine, leaving goosebumps in their wake, stopping at his cheeks, massaging them to his heart content while Robbe can only pant, rocking back and forth and biting his bottom lip to keep from coming.

He’s an oversensitive, blissed out mess, trying to keep his eyes open to take a mental snapshot of Sander’s lust-blown pupils as they watch each other, Sander fucking him slowly and punching the prettiest sounds out of Robbe’s mouth.

Hips stuttering, he drops back down on his elbows to crash his lips against Sander’s, feeling his body tensing he’s so close and-

Eyes shot wide open, blinking harshly against the darkness of the room. His first instinct is to reach out to the other side of the bed, snuggle closer to the source of heat lying next to him, but his brain catches up with his hands quickly and he stops himself mid-reach, groaning as he flops back on the bed, disappointed. He kicks his covers down grumpily, letting cold air hit his overheated skin, frustrated and too awake to go to sleep now.

Fuck.

Thursday, 13:08

*photo attached*

Sander: Good morning x

Robbe: Heeyy sleepyhead 😘

Robbe: You look cute

Sander: I had very interesting dreams last night

Robbe: Oh yeah?

Sander: Yeah I'm still affected by them 😏

Robbe: Stop it I'm at a coffee shop with the guys!

Sander: I'll have to tell you about it tonight then 😈

Robbe: Can't wait 😘

Sander: Today at 16 my time right?

Robbe: Yep :)

Robbe: You know

Sander: Hmm?

Robbe: I might have some of those dreams too last night

Sander: 🥵🥵🥵

Sander: Do tell

Robbe: 🙈

Sander: Now I’m super intrigued 😈

Robbe: How about I tell you tonight

Robbe: With details

Robbe: Lots of them

Sander: Tonight can't come fast enough 😩

Sander: Looks like I will though 😏

Robbe: Omg you're such a dork 😂

Sander: Did it get u hot

Robbe: No wtf 😂

Sander: ☹🥺

Sander: Kay

Sander: I have to get up now

Sander: I'm late 🙄

Sander: Robin it's raining I don't wanna go out 😩

Robbe: Haha get your pretty ass out of bed and go be a good student!

Sander: Ugh fine 🙄

Sander: I love you ❤

Robbe: ❤

Sander: Hey no, not an emoji, tell me you love me ☹

Robbe: Haha

Sander: Come on

Robbe: 🤐

Sander: Robbe

Robbe: Gotta go 😌

Sander: Okay then 😔💔

Robbe: I love you too idiot ❤❤❤💯

Sander: Yesss 🥰

Sander: Hey that's my emoji 😏 so you like it after all

Robbe: 😂 go to class!!!

Sander: I'm going I'm going

Friday, 19:00

Robbe checks his phone for time again, not wanting to be late for his call with Sander, but there’s still about half an hour until he should get going. It’s been a pleasant evening and a while ago he would have never called any time of the day spent with his father ‘pleasant’, but there he is. Enjoying his dinner not only with him but also with his girlfriend of six months that he met in July when the first attempts to salvage the relationship with his dad have been made.

And it’s all because of Sander. The fact that he’s even here speaks volumes about his skill of persuasion. If it hadn’t been for his boyfriend, Robbe would have continued to stew in his own juices and ignored his dad.

“How is Sander doing? New York is a jungle.”

Robbe huffs a laugh. “He’s good, he fits in well in the city vibe. But, um, he needs to stay a bit longer, till February actually ‘cause the school postponed the art show.”

He goes for another bite, frown on his face at the mere reminder of the change of plans.

“You probably hate it, huh?” his father questions.

His only response is to throw him a duuuh look, making his dad snort.

“You should visit him.”

Robbe looks up from over his spaghetti, expecting to see his dad laughing or winking at him, but both him and Margaux are looking at him with unsuspecting smiles, like the suggestion is the most obvious thing in the world.

He exhales a short dad in a laugh, glancing at them back and forth. “I don’t have a spare several thousand euros lying around waiting to be spent on a trip to New York,” he explains, slight exasperation in his voice.

“Oh I don’t think you’d need that much, Robbe,” Margaux smiles at him as she puts away her fork and reaches for her phone. “A few months ago I was actually backpacking with my friend through the East Coast and, wait, let me check, I have everything saved on my AirBnB account.”

Robbe gets back to his dinner as she scrolls on her phone, trying to squish the building hope in his chest away because even if it’s cheaper than he thinks, there’s still no way he can afford it; his equipment and books for school have eaten all of his savings.

“There it is! Look,” she scoots her chair closer to him, his dad peeking at the phone from the other side. “We stayed in Brooklyn for 98$ a day for a double bed, in Bedford to be exact and the conditions were really nice, plus the train station was close by. I’m sure you could find something half as cheap since it’s just you and the room can be tiny, just to sleep really.”

“That’s a reasonable price, I think,” his dad joins in, and then proceeds to ask her questions about her other expenditures while in the city and the flight prices, debating whether it’s better to drive to Frankfurt and take a direct flight from there or maybe decide on a layover flight from Brussels.

They are so into the planning and discussing the best options that they both jump slightly when Robbe speaks again, clearly forgetting he’s sitting right next to them, a picture of confusion.

“Guys, guys, wait. It doesn’t matter if it’s 1500 euros, or even 1000 euros because that’s still a 1000 euros more than I have to spend on a trip anywhere.”

His dad is so enthralled into checking different flights that he barely raises his head from above his phone, replying offhandedly, “I’ll pay for it.”

And, okay, no. Robbe gapes at him like he grew two heads, spluttering, because hell no.

“No way, I won’t take your money, dad.”

His vehement tone finally makes his father properly regard him and he sighs after a second. “Robbe, please don’t treat it as an attempt to buy you or your feelings.”

Straight to the point, his dad, always has been. It definitely is one the reasons for his refusal, but it’s not only that.

Robbe takes a deep breath to calm down. “Look, dad, it’s still lots of money. I can’t-”

“I’m many things, but irresponsible with money I’m definitely not. So if I say that I can pay for it, it means that I can afford it and it won’t affect me.” He gives him a pointed look. Before Robbe can argue again, he continues. “We can treat it as your Christmas gift. And next year’s birthday gift. And last two Christmases gifts as well.”

Robbe thinks about the packages he received from his father those holidays, and how he sent them back without even opening. Then, it definitely felt like buying his affection.

“You’ve been doing good at school, got into the university you wanted, you’ve been more responsible those last few years that I could’ve ever asked from you. Then you worked during the summer because you were adamant about paying for school stuff yourself. I think you earn it, Robbe. If you don’t want to go for other reasons, then that’s fine, but if it’s just about the money, please let me give you this.”

“New York is the kind of place everyone should visit at least one,” Margaux says gently. She has a warm smile that immediately made Robbe like her, despite really trying not to for obvious reasons. “And I think Sander would love for you to come visit too.”

Robbe has been torn before she spoke, but the mention of Sander reminds him of their videocall a while back, Sander telling him about places he was going to show him one day, being his guide and taking him to his favorite spots in the city. He can see it all vividly now when the opportunity is at his fingertips, can’t stop the excitement filling his body at the thought of seeing Sander before that dreadful February, even though he’s still now sure what to do.

While he’s been lost in his thoughts, trying to come to some conclusion, Margaux has been typing away at her phone. “Dates around Christmas are very expensive, but what would you say about, let’s say, December 8th? Til December 17th?”

Robbe wouldn’t even consider Christmas because there’s no way he would leave his mom alone for the holidays, but… the dates Margaux offered seem kinda perfect. His main project is due on December 4th so he wouldn’t have to worry about that and it’d be fine if he missed classes for those several days. Completely unaware, he finds himself making plans in his head before he even made a decision to accept his father’s money, but when his eyes snap to his dad’s, the small smile he gives him lets him know he already knows Robbe’s answer.

December 7th, 22:00

His excitement has been uncontainable the entire day, making him so giddy he had to cancel his regular call with Sander because his boyfriend would figure him out in seconds. And that’s the last thing he wants.

He’s still in shock that he somehow managed to keep it from him, planning a surprise in his head ever since he agreed to his dad’s help and working extra hard at uni to afford missing those 8 days of school. There’s apparently been one close call when Younes almost spilled the beans to Sander during their Zoom, but thank god for Yasmina who managed to effortlessly salvage the secret, improvising and coming up with an easy lie, leaving him unsuspicious of any ploy going on.

And Robbe just. He just can’t wait. He’s been counting hours since last week, his lips yearning to be kissed by his favorite person, body pining for touch and caress.

Lost in the dreams of their reunion, Robbe’s startled by a ping from his phone, lips stretching in a wide smile when he sees a notification from Sander’s instagram. He opens it, curious, melting when he’s greeted with a graffiti sign saying ENKEL LIEFDE, Sander’s style easily recognizable to him. Underneath, there’s a heart and his own handle and that shit never fails to make Robbe heart stutter. There’s a DM from Sander waiting for him as well, the same photo, but Sander’s caption says The High Line needed its own version of my love declaration for you, but unfortunately I couldn’t find enough space for a redo of your gorgeous face Robin :( So I did this :) You like it?

He replies with a bunch of red hearts, likes the post and adds another heart in a comment because there’s never too many of those. Then he flops back on his bed, a smile glued to his face.

Nineteen hours.

#wtfock

32 notes · View notes

ace-oreos · 3 years

Note

You must be so sick of alpha and Fordo asks but you’re latest fic has given me angst potential- maybe a one-shot with alpha working with the bad batch to find Fordo post order 66 an him just breaking at the seams when he finds his Vod because he thought he lost Frodo like he lost Sev. Tears and man hugs ensue

Oh I am NEVER sick of Alpha and Fordo asks - they’re such a fun chaotic duo to write for. :D Also, Alpha working with the Bad Batch is something I never knew I needed until I saw your ask and I would absolutely write something with all of them again. I cannot express how difficult it was to not go off on a tangent about Hunter.

In true Sev style, I chose Kashyyyk as the main location for this one. It’s just so useful for these kinds of things.

Also. Y’all. I did not realize until I was four pages into this that I forgot Echo. So uh... whoops? 😅 😂 With that in mind, let me warn you that this is WAY longer than the other fics. I have no idea what happened. I have no idea what I’m doing.

Also also, thank goodness for Wookiepedia lmao

Edit with tags: @dudewhynotthis @merspots @the-mandalorian-clone-lover @delta-the-mando (taglist is open!)

“Captain.” The sergeant keeps his distance even now, face inscrutable as he surveys Alpha.

“Alpha,” he corrects half-heartedly, more for the sergeant’s sake than his own.

“Alpha,” Hunter amends. “We’ll be entering the Mid Rim soon - maybe an hour, hour and a half tops.”

“Good to know.” Alpha knows he sounds despondent at best, but he’s hit enough dead ends by now to know all too well this will likely be a fruitless endeavor. There’s nowhere in the galaxy safe from him - not when his brother’s life is hanging in balance.

But it’s a big galaxy, with little regard for individual yearning or emotion. Alpha can vow to upend the galaxy as much as he likes, but the fact is they’ve only so much time, and only so many resources, and...

And maybe Hunter picks up on that, in that way of his as he observes Alpha without further comment. The sergeant is as much his vod as anyone else Alpha has encountered. Still beyond him sometimes, a little too other for Alpha to ever fully mesh with him or his brothers, but he’s a good soldier. A good man.

“We’ve always got room for another,” are Hunter’s parting words as he makes his way back to the cockpit.

If you find out your brother was dead all along.

Alpha doubts it was anything less than a genuine offer, but it isn’t the only route. Not until I’ve exhausted every other option. And even then....

It doesn’t do, to let himself become so intertwined with a brother until he isn’t entirely sure he knows who he is without the other. He’d tried, both for his brothers and for his own peace of mind, to put a stop to it before it went too far. And maybe that was Jango getting in his head more than Alpha ever should have allowed, but he’d thought it was the right thing to do.

Sometimes I can’t help but wonder...

________________________

“ - you know as well as I do we’ve been going in circles for weeks now - ”

“Yeah, you might’ve mentioned that once or twice…”

“You said it yourself - we’ll get ourselves killed if we aren’t careful.”

“So we’ll be careful.” Hunter’s voice holds a note of finality. “We can keep rehashing this conversation, or we can help a vod.”

Alpha doesn’t catch the muttered reply, but it’s hardly amenable, if Hunter’s sigh is anything to go by. He can’t blame them, really - Fordo isn’t their brother, and outside of combat they’ve little common ground. And it’s only natural for Crosshair to raise the questions none of them are yet ready to face. Alpha thinks he could learn to like the man, given time.

He reigns in his thoughts before entering the cockpit. The least he can do is put on a rational front. This whole thing isn’t at all rational, but the Bad Batch seem to understand better than others. It runs deeper than brotherhood here, whatever it is, and Alpha is irrepressibly reminded of Fordo, somehow -

(And osik, does that thought burn, dig under his skin to remind him once again that he failed, that should he redeem himself it will be not on his terms but likely an inconsequential whim of a galaxy that cares nothing for them or everything they’ve fought so hard to hold on to - )

“Y’know, I’m not sure we’ve ever been to Kashyyyk,” Wrecker muses. “That’s a first.” If he’s trying to divert Alpha’s attention from Crosshair, it’s a skillful effort that almost takes Alpha aback. “‘Course, I only remember the fun parts,” he adds as an impish afterthought.

“Anything with explosives, you mean?” Alpha asks drily.

Wrecker grins. “Something like that.”

You and Fordo would get along fine.

What leaves his mouth is, “I don’t suppose anyone has any relevant information about this place?”

Right on cue, Tech pipes up from his position alongside Crosshair. “Actually…”

Tech is just as much of an efficient distraction in his own right. It’s not exactly the height of strategy on Alpha’s part, but once again it redirects attention. He has no doubt Hunter sees right through it; still, the man has enough tact to refrain from commenting.

You understand, I think, Alpha decides, watching exasperation and amusement play across Hunter’s face in turns as his brothers’ bickering fills the cockpit. You would go to hell and back for them, wouldn’t you, Sergeant?

Hunter casts him a wary glance. Alpha holds his gaze.

There’s too much we can’t say. It’s okay, vod - I think I’m starting to understand too.

________________________

Kashyyyk is dishearteningly vast, all sprawling jungles and endless island chains set on a swath of ocean that dissects the planet’s hemispheres. Getting in was no easy task, what with the Imperial blockade cutting off the planet from others in its sector. But Tech’s adroit piloting had come through, and they’d slipped past the blockade with little disturbance.

“You really think your buddy is here?” Crosshair asks dubiously, surveying the area with a distinct air of displeasure.

“I’ve seen the records,” Alpha says, as much to reassure himself as the other man. “The Empire’s tighter with the book-keeping, I’ll give them that. Fordo’s unit lost contact not long before Order Sixty-six went down. If they made it out, it would be on record somewhere.”

“And if they didn’t?”

Alpha battles his temper into submission before replying. “Then they would be confirmed KIA. But they’re still listed as missing as of two weeks ago.”

“Sounds like you’re leaving an awful lot to chance,” Crosshair opines. There isn’t malice in his voice so much as an unmistakable note of disapproval. “What’s your plan if it turns out they were just waiting for reinforcements and pulled out days ago? That leaves us here in the heart of Imperial occupation.”

“I haven’t forgotten,” Alpha says grimly. “But if they lost comms before the order came through, then there’s a chance they aren’t with the Empire. Their main focus would be survival, not falling in line nice and neat like Palpatine expects.”

It’s clear there are a number of objections rising to the forefront of Crosshair’s mind, but the man keeps them to himself. There’s a conflict brewing there, Alpha knows, but that’s a matter to address at another time.

“There’s an area south of here where all comm signals go dead,” Tech announces, tapping furiously at the device mounted on his vambrace. “According to intel, the Wookies call it the Black Forest.”

“Sounds inviting,” Hunter says. “What’s the deal with it?”

“A prison ship crashed there centuries ago,” Tech relays. “The Wookies believe it’s cursed, so they avoid it whenever possible. It’s possible Fordo and whoever was left were driven back by the Seps - or it was a desperate bid and he was banking on the droids not following somewhere they can’t maneuver well. But why cut himself off from allies…?”

“The forward operating base was set up in Kachirho,” Alpha muses aloud “There was another commando squad deployed here, but they were retasked shortly after Order Sixty-six. If Fordo’s here, I doubt he would hang around anywhere with high Imperial activity.”

If he were operating alone, the decision would be simple. But he has the welfare of four other men to consider now; one wrong move, and they’ll all end up on the business end of a blaster.

With that in mind, Alpha looks to Hunter. “Sergeant. What do you think?”

“It’s your call,” Hunter answers. “If you have reason to think your brother is hiding out here, then I think it’s worth taking a look. So long as we go careful, I don’t see why the Imperials should notice us.”

Wrecker’s chuckle fills the comms. “Famous last words.”

_________________________

For all that they have a reputation for being unorthodox - a reputation that is doubtless justly earned - the Bad Batch can pull off stealth pretty well, too. It comes as a bit of a surprise, if Alpha is being honest, but if nothing else the overarching threat of Hunter’s wrath is enough to keep them in line.

“Keep an eye out for slavers,” Tech warns. “The whole planet has been a hotspot for them ever since the CIS first let them in.”

It’d be just our luck to run into slavers, Alpha thinks wryly. Individually they’re not much of a threat, but a group of Trandoshans spells trouble for anyone. Even without the training to back it up, their brutality can overpower even an ARC trooper. ‘Course, it’d be just like you to get into a mess like that, Fordo…

“We’ll be a bigger target if we travel as a group,” Hunter says.

“If we split up we might as well ask for a death sentence,” Alpha cautions. Typically his first choice would be to operate alone, but between the slavers, the Imperials, and the remnants of the Separatist forces, he’s starting to think their strength might lie in numbers this time.

Alpha mulls it over. Greater numbers means slower going. If we split up, we’ll be able to cover more ground. It’ll be risky, but - payoff is worth it.

“We’ll move faster this way,” Hunter says, echoing Alpha’s thoughts. “Wrecker, Tech, you’re with me. Cross…” He fixes his brother with a stern stare. “Don’t do anything stupid. Alpha has my full permission to stop you by any means necessary.”

Alpha rewards the sergeant with a wolfish grin. “I’ll hold you to that.”

He can’t read Crosshair half as well as the others, but the sniper doesn’t appear altogether displeased. He merely shrugs when Alpha jerks his head towards the route they’ll be following, and trails after him without argument.

Silence lays thick over the jungle. There’s an odd rustle here and there, interspersed with faint growls from time to time, but progress is relatively smooth. Alpha takes pains to remain on guard; just because he can’t see a threat doesn’t mean they’re in the clear.

Before long the silence is disconcerting. Given the planet’s Wookie population, there should be regular movement around them, or some sign of existence. But this stretch of the jungle is oddly lacking.

“This doesn’t feel right,” Crosshair mutters.

“Guess no one’s home,” Alpha answers absently, scrutizining the terrain. “Look - there’s no sign of a fight. Maybe no one was here to begin with.”

“Kachirho isn’t too far from here,” Crosshair points out. “You don’t think it’s a little odd that this path hasn’t been used at all?”

“It is,” Alpha allows, “but look at it this way. We’re traveling the way we’ve been trained to in this kind of setting. The Wookies probably have their own methods for getting around.”

“It’s still weird,” Crosshair decides. “And if your brother really was here, we’d have found evidence of that, too.”

He isn’t wrong, but it nonetheless stings to hear the man voice the doubtful thoughts that have been creeping up on Alpha. Still, we’ve come this far. What have we got to lose?

(More than he’s willing to surrender. But Crosshair doesn’t need to know that.)

“Let’s keep moving,” Alpha says, sharper than he intends.

“Hang on,” Crosshair says suddenly. “Contact - ”

Alpha pivots in time to see a Trandoshan emerge from the surrounding foliage. The lizard is taller and more solid than he previously anticipated; instead of hitting it head-on like he initially planned, Alpha redirects in order to avoid being gutted on the lizard’s knife.

He hears the shot and the telltale thump of the lizard falling to the ground. As Alpha picks himself up, Crosshair scans the area through the scope of his rifle.

“Oh, shab,” the sniper hisses.

It doesn’t take long for Alpha to locate the cause of Crosshair’s disgruntlement. A group of Trandoshans lurches towards them. Alpha does a rapid assessment: each lizard is packing some sort of ranged weapon - including slugthrowers, he notes unenthusiastically - and most are carrying an assortment of knives.

“Ideas?” Crosshair asks tersely.

“They’ll just follow us if we run,” Alpha says. “It’ll save us trouble in the long run if we take them now.”

“I can see why Hunter likes you,” Crosshair says, oddly nonchalant considering the circumstances, and fires.

With Crosshair covering ranged attacks, Alpha elects the more up-close-and-personal option. The slavers have the advantage of size, but Trandoshans aren’t renowned for their intelligence. As long as he stays in motion the risk of having his throat slit is greatly reduced.

Alpha targets a straggler first. He hits low, knocking the lizard off balance and sending it staggering into another. The other makes a grab for him, but Alpha is already ramming his vibroblade into the first slaver’s exposed neck. Using the limp body as a buffer, Alpha pushes against the other lizard, trying to force it onto its back foot.

Just as he feels his opponent’s defense start to give, another three descend on him. Cursing, Alpha throws himself aside before they can hem him in. One of the slavers has enough presence of mind to bring his knife down on Alpha’s unprotected back; the force of the blow has him crashing to the ground.

Alpha scrambles for a foothold, but one of the lizards seizes his leg in a vicelike grip. He writhes instinctively, kicking out with his other foot. He feels the impact more than sees it and wrenches himself free.

Just as a third lizard fills the other’s place, there’s a crack from Crosshair’s rifle, and the lizard topples. Alpha springs to his feet to avoid being crushed by several hundred kilos of Trandoshan. The others are wary now, trying to divide their attention between him and Crosshair.

Alpha doesn’t give them time to choose. This time he uses his blaster to put a round through the closest target. It’s not quite enough to put the lizard out of commission entirely, so he follows up with a quick succession of bolts.

It’s not exactly an even match, but things aren’t going as badly as he first feared, Alpha thinks. No sooner does the thought cross his mind than his helmet flashes a warning. He turns to deflect the attack coming from behind, but he moves too late and steps directly into the strike.

The slaver’s curved knife skids off Alpha’s breastplate and sinks into his bodysuit in the gap between the cuirass and the shoulder bell. Alpha manages to pull away, but not before the knife catches the underside of his arm and slices a gash halfway down his bicep.

A line of pain sears through his arm. There’s no doubt the Trandoshan cut deep into the muscle. That arm is effectively useless now; Alpha grimly switches his knife to the other hand.

He doesn’t have eyes on Crosshair from his current position, but the rasping breaths and occasional curses over the comms suggest the sniper isn’t having an easy time of it either. Time to fall back and reassess.

“Let’s pull back. We might be able to lose them.” Alpha bites the inside of his cheek to suppress a hiss of pain when his wounded arm is jostled. “We can’t take them now, at any rate.”

“You might want to rethink that, alor’ad…”

Crosshair jerks his head to indicate the slavers pouring into the area. There’s a slim chance they’ll be able to slip by, but not without risking serious injury. Slowing down to accommodate a bad hit would mean certain death or capture.

Pinned down. Shabla brilliant.

Alpha makes an effort to keep his rapidly rising alarm in check. “We’ll have to hold them off, then.”

“There’s no way,” Crosshair objects. “We’re outnumbered eight to one.”

Alpha sends a slaver sprawling rather than answer. He can see it as plainly as Crosshair, but he’s not going to lay down and die, not when his brother is still out there somewhere, not when there’s still a chance they could pull this off -

He hasn’t been this close in weeks and it isn’t his place to gamble anyone else’s life but his own, but even now he can’t bring himself to give in and he understands in a sudden flash of clarity that this is where he will always fail - because he has a foothold, now, and even though all logic points to turning back for once he can’t give in -

An arm clamps around his neck. Alpha thrashes, trying to throw his attacker off, but now that he’s been caught off guard the lizard has an advantage. His vision begins to blur at the edges and he redoubles his efforts, fueled in no small part by panic at being unable to draw breath.

He doesn’t know where Crosshair is anymore. He can hardly see beyond his own hands, scrabbling desperately at the arm locked around his neck.

No sooner does his vision begin to fade than the crushing pressure on his neck abruptly loosens. Alpha hits the ground gracelessly, coughing violently as he tries to inhale. His breath rattles in his throat, but his vision gradually returns.

He lurches to his feet and assumes a defensive stance as best he can. He’s lost track of how many slavers are still standing - too many is his best estimate.

But the man standing before him isn’t an enemy. He’s -

“Vod,” Fordo says softly.

Alpha can only stare at his brother in stunned silence, momentarily deaf to the ongoing struggle around them. Fordo....

“Later,” his brother promises.

______________________

“So how’d you end up running with them?” Fordo asks with a nod towards the Bad Batch.

“It’s complicated,” Alpha says lightly. “Too much to unpack now, at any rate.”

Fordo laughs. He’s battered and weary, with something lurking in his gaze Alpha can’t quite decipher yet, but it’s Fordo, and that’s more than enough.

“It’s quiet here,” Fordo remarks. “I like that.”

“‘S nice,” Alpha agrees.

They’re still hovering just above the surface. Tentative. It’s not exactly what Alpha is accustomed to, but for Fordo’s sake he lets his brother take the lead.

“Everything’s gone sideways, hasn’t it,” Fordo says suddenly.

“It has,” Alpha admits. There’s no use pretending otherwise. “But we’ll find a way through.”

Fordo flashes a small smile. “You’re good at that.”

Alpha merely shrugs. There’s a thousand other things he wants to say, but he hasn’t the faintest clue where to begin. Finally he ventures carefully, “Y’know, for a while now I thought this mission did you in.”

Fordo lets out a long sigh. “I was starting to think it might, myself.”

“I…” Alpha breaks off, startled by the sudden pressure behind his eyes. It worsens when he tries to continue. “I don’t know what I would’ve - ”

He falters again. I care more than I should. I never should’ve let that happen, but even now I don’t know if I regret it.

“Alpha,” Fordo says softly, and pulls him into an embrace.

Alpha doesn’t know how much time passes before he finally disentangles himself from Fordo as gently as he can and scrubs at the hot trails on his face. He can’t quite bring himself to feel any shame over it. He’s never been given to such displays, but… Fordo is his vod.

“So what’s the plan, alor’ad?” Fordo asks with a familiar note of mischief in his voice.

Alpha smiles despite himself. “It’s a big galaxy.”

“We’ve got time.”

“Yeah,” Alpha laughs. “We have time.”

#alpha-17 #alpha 17 #captain fordo #the bad batch #bad batch #clone force 99 #the clone wars #star wars #fic prompt #thanks for the prompt!#this was really fun #and i would absolutely write for them again #hunter specifically but shhh #if you make it through this post good on you lmao #my askbox is open!

43 notes · View notes