#and it’s her birthday on sunday so maybe i’m just feeling ten times worse because of that

[pierregaslays]

:(

[gingerale2017]

“Now, Kiss!”

Based on this hc I made earlier :)

3474 words

Fandom: The Lunar Chronicles

Pairing: Kai x Cinder

Fluff

Description:

Kai knew that the annoyance was part of having a sibling, but he hated it all the same. Nainsi would tease him about everything and when she figured out his crush on Cinder Linh, it only got worse. When Cinder calls Kai on the day that Nainsi brings some friends, she suspects that something might be cooking in the pot. Is she right, or are they friends for another agonizing day?

(Also I decided to name her Nainsi bc I’m too tired to brainstorm anything else I like it)

“WAKE UP KAI!” was the first thing Kai heard after being unfortunately interrupted by a sweet dream involving a certain someone. He was awake now, with a 100-pound pillow being tossed onto his head. Groaning, he flipped to his other side, squeezing his eyes shut as if that would make the tiny monster go away.

“KAI WE’RE GONNA BE LATE!” Nainsi yelled. She threw another pillow at him and when he didn’t show any signs of stopping, she yanked the cover out. Thank the stars for sheets.

“Stars, what time is it?” Kai managed to ask. Knowing his family it was probably five in the morning.

“Seven-thirty, ” he groaned again. It was way too early to get out of bed. Plus, the school didn’t start until eight-thirty so they were very much not late. He tucked his head in the pillow and wished for his sister to magically vanish away into whatever drama she obsessed with now.

“KAI! GET OUT THE BED RIGHT NOW!” Kai turned his head to glare at her. She glared right back.

“You know Cinder gets up super early for whatever reason. That’s something you two can get along with, ” instead of rolling her eyes like she usually did when Kai talked about Cinder, Nainsi's lips formed into a coy smile.

He cursed.

She somehow smiled even further and cocked her head, “Got any plans with her tonight?”

He could feel his ears turn red, and he tried to kill her on the spot with his eyes. His little sister took the smart choice and sprinted out of his room with Kai on her heels.

She screamed as he followed her down the stairs into the kitchen, seeking refuge next to their father’s chair. Kai could tell he was annoyed by the posture he was in and the way he took another sip of his coffee.

Nainsi shot Kai a smug smile that he wished to wipe off her face, “are you gonna wear pajamas to school, Kaito?”

“I’m going to kill you.”

“Ah, yes, but then you’ll spend the rest of your life in jail and will never see your precious Cinder again.”

He glared at her once more and left to go change. When he came back, the aroma of fried eggs was so strong that it filled the whole house.

His father was humming a tune while seasoning the eggs with pepper, now in a less annoyed mood. There were two plates on the kitchen counter already equipped with breakfast. Nainsi rebelliously made cereal instead of eating eggs. Kai, on the other hand, was grateful for the free breakfast.

He sat grabbed a ate and sat at the barstool, preparing to dig into his meal. Dad wanted to make small talk instead, “Good morning, son, and you're welcome for the delicious breakfast that I so graciously made for my marvelous kids.”

“Good morning, father, and us marvelous kids are so grateful for this delicious meal that makes caught us by surprise. But unfortunately, one of your children prefers Lucky Charms to you’re amazing breakfast, ” Kai responded after swallowing his first bite of eggs.

Nainsi looked up from her cereal, “that’s because I don’t like eggs, they’re disgusting.”

“You don’t like anything, ” she stuck her tongue out. Kai picked up his plate and placed it in the sink. Unsurprisingly, he was still hungry, so he went to see what was in the fridge.

“Kai, why don’t you ever want up early?” his father asked.

“Um, because-”

“Because he’s up all night thinking about making out with Cinder in the back of her BMW, ” the little monster interrupted before he could continue. He grabbed a tomato and slammed the fridge shut.

He then threw the tomato at her, “two strikes, Nainsi.”

She dodged the tomato and looked back at Kai with big round eyes.

“Hey, it's too early to fight with your sister just yet, ” interjected his father, “also, if you couldn’t tell, your mother is working double shifts at the hospital today so she wouldn’t be coming back tonight and I have a business trip. I know you have some friends coming over today, Nainsi, so behave better than usual. Both of you.”

“What friends are coming over, Nainsi?” Kai mused, an idea forming in his head.

“Just Geovanna and Emily. Possibly Ben but he hasn’t confirmed yet,” she answered, “why?”

“Just wondering. Anyways, we gotta go now,” Kai pulled on his sweatshirt from the laundry and headed towards the front, “bye dad.”

He nodded at Kai, currently preoccupied with his second mug of coffee while Nainsi rushed to follow Kai.

It was freezing out, as it usually was during winter in Maryland, but today was unusually cold. He turned on the car while Nainsi hopped in the passenger seat.

“Are we gonna go or what?” she barked.

“In a minute. Let me close my eyes for a bit.”

“You always do that, you lazy bum.”

“Your insults are getting drier and drier Nainsi.”

“Just go, ” this time she hit his forearm with her binder from nowhere. Repeatedly.

“Okay, stop hitting me. Ow.”

They drove off towards the school. Although Nainsi lived to tease Kai, they got along pretty well. They talked about this new show and had similar opinions on it during the short car ride. Once they were at Nainsi’s school and she was gone, then he could start playing the radio.

He bid his goodbye’s and see you later’s and now was off to his school.

᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽

Kai was unsurprisingly drained during the last period of the day. He fiddled with the corner of his notes to keep himself awake for at least ten more minutes. When he felt himself starting to doze off, he began to replay the day so far.

When he got to school, Cinder was marked absent which made his day worse. He always looked forward to hearing her sarcastic remarks or her smiling at one of his witty jokes.

Anyways, she was gone and he was sad, but Cress wasn’t. She happily explained to Kai that she and Thorne were going on a date Sunday. He was happy for her, truly, but all he could think about was how he can unsuccessfully tell his feeling to Cinder.

Not telling her felt like he was forgetting something important every day, except he was not forgetting. He knew exactly what he was doing and it killed him, but he also didn’t want to ruin the good that they have now. Then Kai would think about how it would be better and his thought would circle around and around.

After meeting up with Cress, they endured through the first two periods they shared, Scarlet and Thorne joining during the second. Although he had plenty of friends to talk to and enjoy, he couldn't help missing Cinder.

She's gone for one day and you feel like this? he thought, get a break. The little voice inside Kai's head was right.

Then the last bell rang, startling him. He stood up and began to pack his things. Then he fast-walked out and left.

"Kai!" he heard someone call.

Iko and Cress gestured at Kai to come to their lockers. He obliged.

"Look, Winter's birthday is in a couple of weeks, during the break. We want to throw a party because it's her sweet sixteen! We already have all the decorations ready, I know it's early, but long story short, can we throw it at your place?" his blue-haired friend asked as innocently as possible. Although she had to change her posture, tone, and expression to look innocent, Cress had that personality as her default.

"Please, Kai?” Cress pleaded and she knew what she was doing. It was always impossible to say no to her without feeling guilty. Or maybe it was just Kai who hated saying no.

“Of course! My parents are going to their parents during that week, so I’ll just ask to stay behind.”

“Yay! Thank you so much!” Iko hugged him tightly, “also not a word to Winger. It’s going to be a surprise.”

“Sounds nice.”

“Yep. I got to go to my job interview, remember what I was telling you about. Ah, the chance to work a boutique, what a dream,” and with that, his friend walked away.

“Hey Cress, did you hear anything about Cinder, ” he pressed.

She nodded, “Adri was mad at her again so she’s stuck at the garage, ” the blonde began to nibble in her fingernails. Noticing the bad habit, she brought he hand down.

“Oh, ” he hated Cinder’s stepmother, he truly did. And it killed him he couldn’t do anything about it.

They walked silently down the hall. Girls batted their lashes and some greeted him but he ignored it as usual.

“Do you think Adri would let Cinder free tonight?” he asked, now in the parking lot of the school.

“If you’re the one taking her anywhere then, of course, Adri would.”

Cress, Cinder, and Winter all skipped one grade. Cinder and Winter skilled first, and Cress skipped seventh. Cress was the smartest of them all, granted, and they don’t have a driver's license. So Cress got a ride with her older brother Jacin, and so did Winter (Jacin’s girlfriend). Cinder usually rode with Thorne, but on the good days, she rides with Kai.

They reached Kai’s car which was near Jacin’s car and being the super over-protective brother he was, he glared Kai down. Kai found this confusing because his feelings for Cinder were quite obvious, but then he saw Thorne parked next to Kai.

Thorne was currently ‘interested’ in Cress which made her a flustered mess.

Cress walked quickly to Jacin’s car and hopped in the back. Kai called goodbye and started his car. Then there was a rap on his window.

“What?” he asked Thorne, “I got to pick up my sister.”

“What flowers does Cress like?” he lifted an eyebrow at his friend, “not like that,” what Thorne did not know was that Cress told Kai everything about their date. Perhaps Thorne wants to keep it secret until then.

“Uh-huh.”

“Just answer the question!”

He shifted in his seat, “I dunno. Ask Jacin.”

“Great advice,” Thorne deadpanned.

“Get her roses. Those are super romantic and she’s all about the romantic gestures.”

“Nah, too cheesy. Pretend it's Cinder, what would she like?”

“Cinder doesn’t like flowers. Wrenches, however, are much appreciated.”

“I think I’ll just get roses.”

“Yeah, now move, my sister is waiting for me, ” Kai rolled up the windows and drove out.

Time passed very quickly and the next thing he knew, Nainsi was climbing in the passenger seat with her three friends in the back seat.

“I thought it was only two people, ” he whispered harshly.

She shrugged, “Ben decided to come.”

“What are you gonna feed them.”

“Pizza.”

“Who’s money?”

“Yours,” he shoved Nainsi but she shoved back.

“Fine but you owe me.”

“We’ll see, ” she turned in the seat to talk with her friends.

᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽᯽

Once everyone was settled inside and pizza was ordered he began to brainstorm ways Kai could punish Nainsi for this morning.

Then, like a light bulb, a perfect idea formed into his head. He walked into the laundry room where a basket filled with his clothes was waiting for him.

He pulled off his shirt, grabbed the basket, and headed into the living room. His sister was watching a realistic drama with her friends, although Kai wasn’t sure the drama wasn’t ‘realistic’ at all.

This plan happened before on accident with the same friends and they just stared at him while Nainsi shooed him out. Little did he know that her friends would just start talking about him and his looks. When Nainsi told him this, he groaned and whined about how he got enough of this from school. So when Nainsi had people over, Kai would camp in his room to avoid the awkwardness.

Now, he knows how her friends would react. And how she would react.

But before he could do anything, the phone in his pocket vibrated, making him turn a one-eighty back into the laundry.

It was actually Cinder calling and he answered quickly, “hello?”

“Uh, Kai?”

“Yes?”

“Can you do me a favor? Please?” it sounded like she was outside where it was currently raining.

“Yes, of course, what do you need?”

“I need a ride. I’m stuck here in the rain, by myself. Also, this is going to sound weird but, can I also stay with you for an hour and a half?” she defeated like she lost an argument.

“I can pick you up and you can stay with me. Nainsi has some friends over but it should be fine, ” Kai wondered if he sounded too cheery.

“Ok, thanks. I’m at the gas station outside your neighborhood, by the way.”

“Great, see you in a few minutes. Bye.”

“Bye, ” she hung up.

Kai hurried to put on a shirt and grab two rain jackets from the close, just in case Cinder needed one. Then he walked into the living room and out the front door, only to come back in. He forgot to tell Nainsi where he was going.

“Hey Nainsi, I got to pick up someone. I’ll be back soon though, ” she nodded, mouth full of pizza crust, “uh, don’t open the door to strangers. Bye.”

This time he didn’t go back inside after he left. He drove out of the neighborhood, slowly because it was pouring buckets and he could barely see three feet in front of him. After an eternity, Kai finally reached the gas station and parked under the large roof.

He didn’t even see Cinder come in, only heard her, sacring him witless. She smiled apologetically while tossing a white plastic bag onto her lap. It was full of snacks.

“Thanks for coming to get me, I owe you one now, ” she said, handing him one of the bags of chips.

“Of course, Cinder, I would do anything for you, ” the corner of her lip curved upwards as Kai’s cheeks heated, “that came out wrong. I meant that you’re my friend and such. Like the good moral movies where like the one friend reminds the other what friendship is truly about?”

Cinder snorted, “Like My Little Pony?”

“Isn’t that a TV show?”

“Same thing.”

“Is not.”

“Whatever, I know what you meant. Peony had made me watch enough TV shows and movies to last a lifetime.”

“Okay then, ” the rain seemed to finally thin during their conversation making it much more comfortable conditions for Kai to drive in.

Cinder had a habit of talking with her mouth full and the ‘good manners kid’ inside of him cringed. He hoped he hid it well.

Anyways Cinder explained why she was soaking wet at a gas station abandoned with snacks. She was bored and hungry and wanted something to do. So she walked to the gas station, alone, for snacks and a good walk.

Kai raised an eyebrow at that, “you live far away from me, how and why did you walk miles just for a bag of junk food?”

“People can do miraculous things when they are bored, Kai.”

“Yes, and penguins can fly if they really set their minds to it.”

“They are a bird so, hey, nothing’s impossible.”

“Who drove you?”

Cinder shoved a chip in her mouth, “Pearl,” she admitted reluctantly.

“What?”

“I skipped lunch and she knew I was hungry so she drove me here and left me while I was getting snacks. She also called me and said that it was a prank she couldn’t resist.”

“Oh, ” Kai said as they were pulling in his driveway. It was drizzling now so there was no need for the rain jackets.

“I’m also supposed to be at the garage until later so that's why I have to stay that long. If I come back early, Adri would get mad, and I don’t feel like getting yelled at today.”

“Ok,” he said as he walked out of the car.

He opened the door for Cinder and followed her inside. Nainsi and her friends did not move from before he left, but they switched shows. His little sister locked eyes with Cinder, immediately getting up.

“Hey Cinder. I did not know you two were hanging out today?” She said conspiratorially.

Cinder nodded, “yeah it was kind of sudden. Also, Peony is not with me, sorry.”

“That’s okay. I’m going back to my friends now. So you guys can ‘hang out’” Nainsi emphasized the last part then ran off to her friends.

“So, um, what do you want to do for an hour and a half?” he asked.

Cinder turned to him, “I don’t know, what do you want to do.”

“I don’t know.”

“Let’s just go to your room then.”

“Good idea, ” Cinder has been to his house enough to know the layout. He followed her to his room where she fell on the bed.

“Working under cars all day isn't good for the back you know, ” she explained, muffled by a pillow.

“I would expect so because your posture is not up to standards.”

She snorted, “I guess that’s true, ” Cinder sat up and leaned on the headboards, “sorry for taking up your space. And for calling you. Stars, this was a bad idea, you already have people here. I’m like an intruder-”

“Why are you apologizing so much? I don’t care if you light my room on fire, ” Kai accused. It was true, ever since he met her, she would apologize for every single tiny thing, as if every single wrong thing she did was unacceptable. He moved towards her to place a hand on hers, “it’s okay, Cinder. And calling me was a good idea because you saved me from the little demons.”

Cinder let out a genuine laugh that ended with a genuine smile. A smile that never ceased to make his heart twitch. He bashfully realized that he was still holding her hand.

Kai let go but she only grabbed his hand back. He watched her intertwine their fingers, trying to ignore the strong pounding of his heart. He dared to look up and realized that Cinder was staring at him.

He looked into her chocolate eyes that seemed to shine with stars. He wanted to dive into that sea of brown and lie there for eternity. As long she was there.

“Now kiss!” cried a shrill voice. Kai jumped away from Cinder, noticing that she copied his actions.

“Aw, come on just kiss already, the tension was so thick, ” said... Peony?

Cinder’s eyes widened, “Peony, what- how did- why are you here?”

“Well first, I was invited to the sleepover but I had volleyball practice so I had to come late. I just got here. And second, I saw Nainsi sneaking up here so I followed, and oh my stars, we ruined the money, didn’t we?” Peony looked at Nainsi.

“We did. Sorry guys, we’ll go now.”

“Yes, now you can kiss in peace, ” the girls left, leaving Kai very flustered. He glanced at Cinder and saw that her cheeks were also tinted pink.

“So, do you want something to eat, ” he asked finally. He could not bear the silence anymore.

“Yes, ” she nodded, although they already are in the car.

They got up to leave but before he could open the door, Cinder grabbed his wrist and pulls him down. The next thing he knew they were kissing. It was quick and soft and amazing. It felt like everything suddenly clicked and the world was righted. Like the stars finally aligned.

She pulled away and Kai could feel the heat in his ears. His heart was beating so loud that he was sure Cinder could hear it as well.

“Let’s go get some food, ” she breathed and opened the door. She was still holding his wrist, he realized. He intertwined their hands like before, but this time it felt more meaningful. It was like their hands now signified that they were more than friends. That they loved each other, even if they hadn't admitted it yet. But he could feel it and was sure that she could too.

They entered the kitchen and Cinder began to talk about food options but all he could think about was the kiss. He wanted to kiss her again. And to hold her.

Someone cleared their throat behind them, making them turn around. Nainsi, Peony, Emily, Geovanna, and Ben all stood with knowing faces. Nainsi smirked, “finally.”

Peony looked like she was about to explode with happiness, “I already told Iko. She’s ecstatic.”

Neither Kai nor Cinder said anything. Nainsi probably knew because of the looks on their red faces and told Peony. Then Peony told Iko and Iko probably told everyone in their friend group.

So now everyone knows.

“Just to be sure, you guys did kiss, right?” asked Emily.

Slowly, Cinder nodded. Kai opted to stare at his feet. Peony whooped, Nainsi squealed, Cinder blushed, and Kai groaned.

“Ok now we will leave you alone, for real, ” Nainsi promised, dragging her friends away.

“Why are there so many people here?” Kai murmured then turned to Cinder. She leaned on his shoulder. They were still holding each other's hand, “I really want to kiss you again, by the way.”

“Me too.”

“Okay then, ” he cupped her cheek with his free hand and kissed her. Cinder squeezed his hand affectionately. He once again felt like everything was where it was supposed to be, where he was supposed to be, and that was with Cinder.

Tagging: @just2bubbly @winterrhayle @jacihayle @shelbylmkaider @cerenoya @a-salting-the-world @ladyvesuvia @not-the-founder-of-rome @greenalmond @zephyr-thedragon @cinderswrench @cindersassasin @strawberry-seraph (these are just one-shot tags so please tell me if you want to be added or remove for these types of fics <3)

[broadstbroskis]

drunk dial | auston matthews

a very long time ago, an anon sent me an ask with a prompt that was like “so we’re just ignoring the fact that you drunk dialed me to tell me you love me?” with auston and @nolypats and i have been chatting recently and, well this is finally completed

-----

It’s a typical Saturday night and the boys don’t have another game until Wednesday, somehow, someway, so you arrive at Scotiabank Arena dressed for the bar after and notice immediately that you aren’t the only one who’d made the choice to do so. 

“Ohhh.” Steph runs her fingers along the sleeve of your leather jacket as soon as you slip into the seat beside her. “I love this! New?”

You nod at her, but are already busy gushing over her sweater to answer anything else about the jacket, which you’d openly lusted over for months before your best friend had surprised you with it for your birthday a few weeks ago, despite your insistence to Auston that it was too much. 

Steph seems to have been waiting for you to arrive because as soon as you do, she flags down Alannah, who grins as soon as she sees you. “Wine o’ clock!” She cheers and you grin, standing and following the two of them to the closest spot in the club level for you each to get a glass.

It sets the tone for the evening, with the three of you giggly and tipsy by the time the game ends and you meet up with everyone in the lounge downstairs.  

“Oh boy.” Zach’s eyes widen almost comically, when he’s the first one to approach the three of you, coming out of the locker room fresh off his shower. Alannah straight up squeals when she sees her husband, throwing her arms around him like she hasn’t seen him in days or weeks, instead of like five hours, and you give the reaction the giggles it deserves, hearing Steph join in right behind you. “Oh boy.” Zach repeats, looking between the three of you.

“What’s going on?” Mitch asks, appearing at his side, with Auston and Will right behind him.

“It’s wine o’ clock, bitch!” Steph cheers, erupting into a fit of giggles, and that’s the last thing you remember.

-----

Considering how much your head is pounding the next morning, you’re just happy to wake up in a bed, even if you know right away that it isn’t your own. It takes you a few minutes to open your eyes, but you breathe a sigh of relief when you do, taking in the familiar sights of one of Steph and Mitch’s guest rooms.

Poor Mitch. You bite back a laugh, taking your time to sit up at the edge of the bed, and a couple deep breaths as it makes your headache even worse. You might not remember last night, but you know from prior experience that having to wrangle a drunk you and Steph back here was no easy task for him. You owe him big time. 

The two of them are both, unsurprisingly, already awake when you make your way downstairs, nursing large and larger cups of coffee. “Any more of that?” You ask hopefully, and Mitch snorts, while Steph points pathetically toward the counter.

There is, blessedly, a good portion of the pot still left, and still warm, and you pour it in a mug, hugging it toward your chest like the lifeline it’s about to be. “Sorry, Mitch.”

“You will be when you see the pictures.” Mitch says cheerfully, way too cheerfully for this early in the morning, especially considering how hungover you are.

You groan immediately, noticing Steph’s done the same only after she bangs her head against the counter and follows it with a soft, “Ow.”

“Where’s my phone?” You whine reluctantly. You might as well get the roast over with.

Your phone is hiding in the blankets of the bed you’d slept in, almost dead, where you’d apparently just thrown it at some point. Steph’s already back in the kitchen when you make your way down, her face paling even as she occasionally laughs at whatever she’s scrolling through.

Your own phone has more than a few messages with pictures from last night, as well as a few more chats that are blowing up with texts this morning, commenting from last night, but there’s one message that catches your eye. 

It’s from Auston, separate from any of the group chats, and it catches your eye because it’s just...not like a usual text he’d send you? you good? is the only thing he’s sent, no emojis, nothing, and it’s strange enough that you ignore the other incoming texts to explore through your phone a little to see what you could have done to get a text like that.

Instagram and Snapchat both yield nothing- embarrassing videos, sure, but nothing overly terrible- and the photos making their way through the texts are the same, but your call log is another story.

“Shit.” You groan, swiping back into your messages with your best friend. 

“What?” Steph asks.

“I called Auston, like, ten times last night.” You tell them, more focused on texting him. i’m sorryyyyy. didn’t mean to keep you up

it’s good. He sends back a few minutes later, and you frown, because as cool and chill as he might pretend to be, he’s not, and this is strange. 

couch movie day? You ask him. The coffee has done the trick; you at least feel like you could move, and there’s no better way to spend a hungover Sunday than with your best friend, lounging on his supremely comfortable couch. i’ll even agree to football if that’s what you so desire.

yeah alright, that sounds good. It’s punctuated with the fingers forming the ok sign emoji,though, and that, at least, is close enough to normal that you smile. You must have kept him up later than you even realized with your calls, for him to be so short with you.

“Alright lovelies.” You suck down the last bit of coffee and address your hosts. “Thanks for the bed last night. I owe you big time, Mitch.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll come collecting!” He teases.

“Headed to Auston’s though.” You press a kiss to Steph’s head and then Mitch’s as well. “Comfy sweats and a couch calling my name.”

——-

When you let yourself into your best friend’s place, it comes as almost no surprise to find a giant ginger sitting at the counter. “Freddie!” You beam, throwing your arms around him and regretting it pretty quickly, once your head starts to pound again. He starts to squeeze you, returning the hug, but you shake your head quickly. “Nope, don’t do that.”

“Alright, fair enough.” He laughs. “So rough night last night, huh?”

You level him with a look but he barely even blinks, and you sigh. “Where’s Auston?”

“Right here.” Your best friend is still shirtless as he walks out of his bedroom, yanking some ridiculous graphic tee over his head as he gets closer, which gives you the second you need to look away and take a breath after even just that tiny minute of exposure. Auston’s abs are honestly unfair and they are, objectively, not even his best feature. “Hey.” He gives you a nod, fixing the glasses he tries to pretend he’s too cool to actually need, refusing to wear them outside the house unless absolutely necessary, and you grin back; as annoyed as he may have seemed over text, he’s not acting that way at all now. 

“Is there coffee made?” You ask hopefully. Auston rolls his eyes at you, but nods over at his absurdly fancy machine, the one that had taken you about three months to figure out how to use. “Sweet, you’re amazing. I’m stealing that and then going to steal some sweats, okay?” You don’t even wait for him to respond, knowing it’ll be fine. Precedent is on your side here. Instead, you reach for a mug and address Freddie instead. “Fred, you joining?”

“Nah.” Freddie says, surprising you a bit. You’ve never known him to turn down a lazy Sunday. “You two have fun.” He says, giving you a knowing glance, which means he definitely caught you looking at Auston earlier, and it’s only the fact that Auston is standing right there that stops you from flipping Fred off on his way out the door.

It figures Freddie’s freaky goalie powers would be working now. Catches onto your more-than-best-friends-feelings for Auston, sure, but too oblivious to notice the hot neighbor in his building he’s crushing on is practically in love with him. Good one, Fred.

It’s barely a minute after Freddie clears out that you slip past Auston to go change, bringing your coffee mug along with you and reaching for your favorite pair of sweatpants the minute you enter his room. They’re old and perfectly worn, from his first year in the league, too small for Auston now, but just large enough for you to feel cozy in. One of his comfier sweatshirts completes your outfit for the day. Auston might be able to survive the day in a t-shirt, always radiating heat even as he complains about the Toronto cold, but fuck that, you were ready to be comfortable and nap through an afternoon of American football. 

Auston is already settled on the couch and if you weren’t so hungover, you’d throw yourself on him, just to be obnoxious, but as it is, you settle slowly onto the cushions beside him, and then lower your head to rest in his lap, frowning to yourself when you feel him tense. 

But it happens so quick; one minute his quads are tight underneath you and the next he’s relaxed again, you find yourself wondering if you imagined the entire thing. Maybe he wasn’t even annoyed with you this morning either; maybe you were just projecting your annoyance at the entire world onto him.

His hand moves to your hair, just like it always would, and you decide your hangover must have you paranoid. “How’s your fantasy team going to do today?” You mumble, already ready to fall back asleep.

Auston hums. “Good, I think. I play Willy this week and he’s a fucking disaster.” You giggle into his lap; his hand stills for a second, but then goes right back to playing with your hair. “Hey, uh, you-” Auston starts, but whatever he says next goes unheard by you, as you give into the sleep that’s been ready to overtake you since you settled onto his lap only moments ago.

-----

It’s hours later when you come to again and you only know this because whatever football game Auston has on is well into the second half. 

It takes you a few minutes to wake up again, slowly coming out of your sleepy state, before you realize that Auston’s talking to someone- quietly, but talking pretty freely- and it’s actually this that’s what has woken you up.

“Yeah it’s-” Auston cuts off frustratedly. He sounds kind of like he wants to be pacing but your head is still in his lap and his hand has moved from your hair to rest on your shoulder, brushing gentle strokes over the curve of it. “I just haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.”

Ohhh, juicy. You don’t want to listen in on Auston’s conversation; you know he’ll bring it up to you when he’s ready, but well, it’s hard not to. You can’t get up without alerting him that you’re awake already. You shut your eyes again tightly, focus on your breathing, and try to fall back asleep, but he’s talking again. “You don’t just get the fuck over that, Fred.” He hisses and ohhh, that sounds angry. You wonder what could have possibly happened to make him sound like that; the two of them never fight. “I would have gotten over her already if I could.”

And that’s the end of that for you. You’re already feeling sick enough today before hearing Auston and Fred talk about one of Auston’s girls. You squeeze your eyes closed tightly and re-double your efforts on trying to fall back asleep, concentrating on blocking out the sound of his voice. 

It works a lot better when you focus on how his hand feels on your shoulder, but it still feels like taking the L.

-----

The second time you wake that afternoon is much smoother. Your headache is basically gone, but the tradeoff is Auston’s thumb digging into your upper trap, which you ease off. “Sorry.” He winces, soothing that spot immediately and you don’t have to look up at the TV to know the Raiders have just done something terrible for his well being. 

“I’m hungry.” You whine at him and he laughs.

“Two minutes.” He responds, checking the time, which of course, turns into more like five, because the difference between “football time” and “real time” is fucking riduclous, but when the half does end, you sit up, the two of you swiping between food delivery apps to decide on dinner for the evening.

When you look up from your phone, Auston’s looking at you with a soft smile, that one you can’t let yourself look at for too long. “I’m gonna shower real quick, if you don’t mind?”

You’re already standing before he answers, but he nods, smile fading from his face a little. “Yeah, go for it.”

“Thanks.” You call, already moving towards the master bath, ready to steal a second pair of sweats for the day.

The shower is the distraction that you need, the step away from that smile that’s too close to everything that you want. The large walk-in a scalding reminder of every other girl who may have been in this position, of the girl who Auston wants to keep around in this position, the one girl who’s managed to do the thing hundreds of girls in Toronto thought was impossible. Auston’s soap smells bitter today, as you lather yourself in it, wondering how you became one of those girls.

You must have taken longer than you thought in the shower because the food’s arrived when you come back out. Auston’s unpacking the takeout bags onto the coffee table, with utensils ready. “Ohh, smells good.” You tug the long sleeves of his shirt over your hands, settling into the couch next to him again and watching him spread your takeout favorites out in front of the two of you. “Thank you.

Auston hums in response, passing you over your favorite dish ordered, the one that you love and he hates, and you only kind of watch him make a plate for himself, a mish-mash of options from the rest of the meals that you’d ordered, more focused on the plate of food in front of you, which is maybe why it’s a total surprise when he says, “We’re really just going to ignore you drunk-dialling me to tell me you love me?”

You choke. “What?”

Auston pales. “Uhh.” He freezes; his fork’s halfway to his mouth, but you can’t even chirp him for how lame he looks right now and it’s not even just because you apparently did something a hundred times more stupid. 

No, it’s because your mind is racing at the fact that you did do something a hundred times more stupid last night and you can’t even put together a coherent thought about that, let alone anything else. No fucking wonder he’s been strange all day.

“Uh.” Auston repeats. “You know what? Don’t worry about it.”

“Absolutely not!” You protest, words finally coming back to you. “What the fuck? God, I’m so sorry!” 

And somehow, that makes this worse? Auston’s shoulder’s tense, he looks extremely interested in his food suddenly. “I mean, it’s cool.” He shrugs, acting again too chill for the situation.

It’s a long moment before you respond, trying to gather your thoughts before you say something you don’t mean. “Is it though? Because you’ve been weird all day and I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, but, like, I can’t take it back now. So the best I can do is leave and like, let me know if you want to talk about it ever and promise not to make things super weird everytime I see you if you don’t want to talk about it.” You don’t realize you’ve stood up at some point in this chat, but Auston still hasn’t responded, and well, maybe it’s for the best that you’ve stood. 

You turn to leave, only for him to tug you back gently toward him, but he either pulls harder than he thinks or you’re just not expecting the tug, and you land in his lap instead of the couch. It’s hardly a graceful fall, with Auston having to loop his free hand behind your back to catch you, your nose bumping against his shoulder on the way down, and your legs folding under you unnaturally until you squirm around to fix them.

Auston’s barely breathing when you finally look up at him, a little annoyed that he’s still acting weird after what you said. “Could you-” He trails off. “Just sit still for a second please?” You give him a look, but settle down, stopping your movements, and he takes a deep breath, relaxing, finally. “I’m sorry if I’ve been weird all day, but I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you telling me you loved me.”

You huff at him, annoyed and ready to climb off his lap to storm out, but he tightens his grip on you, like he knows what you’re thinking. “You don’t have to rub it in.”

“I swear, I’m not!” His thumb slides up to brush a spot of skin between the waistband of the sweatpants and the oversized shirt. “I haven’t been about to stop thinking about that, and then you came in here, looking like you always do, in my clothes all day, and I’ve been trying so fucking hard not to ruin shit between us for months now,” Your eyes widen and your jaw drops as everything starts coming together. “Until last night, when you called me and left me that message and I thought maybe we were on the same page…”

“Except I didn’t remember doing it.” It pains you to even say it; you hate that he’s been feeling uncertain throughout the entire day. Uncertain and unsure and just...hanging. “Auston-” You reach your hand out to brush against his cheek.

“You didn’t even mention it.” He says. “Not in your texts, not once you got here. I thought...I thought you just wanted to carry on with things as normal, that you regretted saying it, or wanted to take it back completely?” He shakes his head, like he’s clearing his thoughts, but you don’t let him move away, putting your hand right back on his cheek.

“I mean, I wish I remembered saying it.” You tell him softly. “But I don’t think I’ll ever regret loving you.” 

“Good.” Auston says firmly, and you barely have time to grin in response to that before he’s tugging you closer in his lap and kissing you soundly. 

[acklesforlife]

Happy Birthday Danneel Ackles!

It’s Danneel Ackles’ birthday, so we thought for our continuing celebration of Supernatural Spring Break week, this was a good time to both wish her a happy birthday and share the rather amusing story of one of our first times meeting her.

There have been a few memorable times since, including the party celebrating ‘Supernatural Day’ in Austin with Mayor Adler, which was just plain fun and an opportunity for some real conversation.

And I’ll be forever touched that Danneel wanted a copy of Family Don’t End With Blood (and how incredulous she was that Jensen actually had a chapter in it!) and that she has read our other books too.

The actual first time we met Danneel was a long time ago – at the after party following the premiere of indie movie Ten Inch Hero, which was at a club in LA back in, I think 2008. We all left the premiere and walked over to the club, invited by director David Mackay – the cast and the audience all together.

We had a lovely little chat with Danneel there about the film, met screenwriter Betsy Morris who’s still a friend today, and asked actor Matt Barr (now of Walker) to watch the rest room door while I in desperation used the men’s room because there was a huge line at the women’s. (He was lovely about it and it makes me laugh now every time I see him as Hoyt).

It was a momentous party, what can I say?  After that, my co-author Kathy and I interviewed David over a three hour brunch in Vancouver for the first book we were working on, and mentioned that we’d love to chat with Danneel  too. To be honest, we didn’t really think that would happen. But a few months later, while we were in LA for the Supernatural convention, we got a call from David.

I’ll let some excerpts from our second book, Fangasm! Supernatural Fangirls, take it from here…

… he let us know that Danneel Harris had actually agreed to an interview too. This prompted some hyperventilating and a rush of euphoria that left us grinning like fools. Jensen Ackles’s girlfriend was going to meet with us? Really? David had given Lynn’s cell phone number to Danneel so that she could call us tomorrow, the same day the boys came back to town. SWEET.

Given the pattern of the weekend so far—great things happening and then going horribly wrong—we should have known what was coming.

[On the Sunday of the convention, while everyone was in a fever pitch of excitement over Jared and Jensen being there] Lynn was obsessively checking her phone. “Noooo!!” she gasped. It was the plaintive moan of a beast in distress.

Kathy assumed that Lynn was passing a gallstone from the sound of it.

“No reception!” Lynn said, wide-eyed.

For Kathy, who hates phones (really, what doesn’t Kathy hate?) this didn’t seem like a big deal. The world really is too connected anyway. An hour out of cell phone reception seemed like a welcome respite, an opportunity just to enjoy the moment.

Lynn wasn’t as philosophical. “What if Danneel calls?”

Kathy honestly didn’t hold out much hope that this would actually happen—a yellow on the threat scale at most—so she wasn’t concerned.

Lynn was taking up her slack by flailing around, banging buttons on her phone as if somehow this would jolt it into action. “How can there be no cell phone reception in LA??”

Lynn had a point. We’re reasonably certain that there is cell phone reception in the Arctic Circle, but there was not a bar to be had in a hotel in LA. LA!! The town where everyone’s people are calling everyone else’s people, where iPhones are accessorized to coordinate with the day’s outfits, where a missed call can ruin a career. Jared and Jensen distracted Lynn for the duration of their time onstage, but as soon as it was over Lynn made a bee line for Jared’s girlfriend, Sandy (the woman sitting in front, wearing a hoodie so no one would recognize her—except Lynn apparently). Lynn wildly explained our dilemma to the stunned and probably scared actress. It was a good thing the Men With No Necks (MWNN) were only being paid to guard “the boys” or Lynn would have been face down on the carpet.

While Lynn was doing this, Kathy was pretending that she did not know Lynn.

Sandy was sympathetic, but didn’t know if she’d even see Danneel. Lynn thanked her for the sympathy and moved on to the next person who might be able to help. She attempted to enlist convention photographer Lizz, to no avail, and finally Creation owner Adam.

“I’ll try Lynn,” he said, sounding slightly exasperated. “But I’m kinda running an entire convention here.”

Thwarted again, Lynn pulled out all the stops. During her Jensen photo op, she stopped everything to explain the situation to Jensen himself.

“Hi, Jensen,” Lynn said, hoping that her voice wasn’t sounding too shaky. “We have an interview set up with Danneel today for the book we’re writing on fandom, and she’s supposed to call us, but I don’t have any reception on my phone, so I’m afraid she won’t be able to.”

The photo-op process screeched to a halt, and the room fell silent. Photo ops, you see, are not a place for conversation. They are highly valued by fans, who pay top dollar for the privilege of standing next to a celebrity, and they are relentlessly organized. The entire experience lasts about twenty seconds, and during that time you’re expected to say hello to the celebrity, smile, perhaps get an arm around your back or lean into said celebrity’s very firm bicep, and then move the hell out of the way and let the next person crowd in for the next picture. The photo ops allow no room for deviation. So when deviation happens, no one is very happy. The photographer wasn’t happy. The other fans weren’t happy. And the MWNN looked ready to move into swift and potentially lethal action.

Not that any of this stopped Lynn. “Can you put us in touch with her?” she continued, oblivious to the threatening stares all around her.

“Oh right, the interview,” Jensen said.

Lynn just nodded, though inside she was stuck on “OMG Jensen knows about our interview and our book, ohmygodohmygod.”

“Maybe she can email you,” Jensen continued. Then the conversation abruptly ended as Lynn was grabbed unceremoniously by the back of the neck and “escorted” from the photo-op room. Uh oh. She hadn’t experienced that feeling since being a two-year-old caught trying to get away with her baby brother’s coveted teddy bear. Lynn was most definitely in trouble—and even worse, she’d made no progress in getting in touch with Danneel, who didn’t even have our email address!

Lynn, ever the intrepid researcher, was not deterred. She thanked the Man with No Neck for his assistance and got right back in line for her next photo op, the “sandwich” photo (as in sandwiched between Jared and Jensen, which is vaguely dirty and thus very popular). As Lynn walked up, Jensen immediately tried to continue their conversation.

“So do you want to . . .” he began, while Jared looked confused. After all, the celebrities know the no talking rule as well as the fans.

Lynn held up a hand defensively. “Shh, I’m not talking to you. I totally got in trouble for it before,” she added, as the MWNN hovered threateningly.

Jensen laughed. “I got in trouble too,” he protested.

We doubt the MWNN were involved.

“Can Danneel get us her email?” Lynn managed as she was once again “encouraged” to leave the room as quickly as possible.

There was no time for an answer. Damn. Thwarted again. We were disappointed, but Lynn was relieved that she wasn’t escorted out of the entire con (the specter of the Flying Fangirl from Asylum still looms large at these events after all). We were still feeling like an interview with Danneel had been too good to be true anyway, so we tried to swallow our sadness and settled in to watch some of the other guests. Midway through the next panel, Lizz the photographer came out into the audience and passed us a note—from Danneel. It just said, “Send me an email, love danneel” and included her email address. Being a bit clueless about the popularity of smartphones in 2008, we figured this meant that she wanted us to get in touch with her later for an email interview. We were disappointed that we wouldn’t get to talk to her in person but incredibly excited that she’d given us her email address. We wandered back outside after the panel and tried not to be too miserable about the Danneel interview not happening that day. We were hanging out in the hallway chatting when photographer Lizz suddenly appeared and yanked us away in the middle of a sentence with an exasperated, “Come with me!” She led us down a small side hall.

We still weren’t entirely sure what was going on. Were we in trouble again? Had the MWNN decided to kick us out after all? Moments later, Danneel emerged from the side door, introducing herself with a smile. Somehow we managed to compose ourselves and smile back. Apparently Jensen had facilitated the interview after all! Danneel suggested that we all grab some coffee, so we headed upstairs to the hotel’s Starbucks, where Danneel insisted on treating.

Coffee in hand, we went back downstairs to start the interview. Danneel suggested that we go backstage to talk, and then came a weirdly symbolic moment. The very same Man with No Neck who had tossed Lynn unceremoniously out of the photo op for daring to speak to the talent now held back the curtain to the backstage area, solicitously helped Danneel and us step over the various wires and cables snaking across the floor, then closed the curtain behind us to seal our crossover. The irony wasn’t lost on us.

Kathy whipped out her trusty voice recorder just as she had done for every other interview we’ve conducted, turned it on, and . . . nothing. We were interviewing Jensen Ackles’s girlfriend and there was NOTHING. It wasn’t the batteries, which had been checked and rechecked. Kathy tried to maintain some semblance of professionalism. She would quietly figure out what was wrong and then she would just as quietly fix it. Deep breaths. Okay, the recorder was FULL. Not to worry. She excused herself, leaving a confused Lynn to entertain Danneel.

First the cell phone, now the voice recorder. Sunday turned out to be the day technology failed us. This, for Lynn, is an everyday occurrence. For Kathy not so much. She loves technology. She embraced the Internet years before it got pretty, she used a “portable” PC to write her doctoral dissertation (portability is of course a relative designation—relative to muscle mass and stamina), and she gets gleeful over the prospect of using every new toy her university has to offer. So yes, technology was her friend. Until it wasn’t.

While Kathy dashed upstairs to grab her laptop (wishing that she could grab a shot of tequila), Lynn attempted to keep up a conversation with Danneel without actually asking any of our carefully prepared interview questions. Without a recorder, there was no way she’d remember a damn thing that was said—so that left small talk as the only option. Luckily, Danneel and Lynn connected over their mutual love of writing, swapped college stories, and then Lynn (as always) managed to talk about her children. Danneel proved herself a great listener. Minutes went by—lots of them—and Lynn realized to her horror that Jensen and Jared were almost done with their autographs. After that, it was off to the airport—and we would lose our interviewee to her boyfriend as she left with Ackles. Where was Kathy???

Finally, shortly before Lynn had moved on to telling Danneel about her daughter’s first steps, Kathy returned and hurriedly tried to download everything onto the laptop while time quickly ran out. Come on!! All Kathy could focus on was how long it was taking for everything to download. That and the rising nausea that threatened to overtake her. Lynn, in desperation, started asking the interview questions (which, since they weren’t recorded, are lost to posterity—and to this book).

Suddenly Jared Padalecki walked by, meaning that autographs were over and people were getting ready to leave. We despaired of a recorded interview, heartbroken over the squandered opportunity. And then, quite unexpectedly, Jensen Ackles was standing there, smiling and saying hello. Even more improbably, he held a fluffy white dog in his arms. For a moment, Kathy was sure this was all part of the nightmare, because fandom at the time had no clue that Jensen even owned a dog. Icarus, however, was quite real—and quite fluffy. Icarus was almost as excited to see Jensen as we were—he’d apparently been whining backstage every time he heard his owner’s voice during the Q&A. We hugged Icarus while Jensen hugged Danneel and tried to talk her into riding with him to the airport. All Kathy heard in those words were that it was too late—she’d blown it.

Danneel, however, had other ideas. She blew Jensen off. No wait. This part can’t really be happening either. More of that dream? Kathy was contemplating poking herself with a sharp object, sticking her finger in a wall socket, anything to jar herself back into reality. This was surely just her own anxiety-ridden psyche toying with her. Must be. Who says goodbye to Jensen Ackles so that she can talk to US?? But Danneel really was excusing herself to say good-bye to Jensen, Icarus happily following, with assurances to us that she’d be right back to finish the interview. Kathy gathered together the few shreds of sanity she still had, sorted the problem, and figured out how to record directly onto the laptop.

Danneel returned, true to her word, and the interview finally began. We relocated to the “green room,” the cloistered room where the guests are confined between stage appearances. The green room, as we were well aware, is a private space—more or less a “No Fans Allowed” clubhouse for the celebrities. We immediately felt like imposters, occupying a space where we clearly shouldn’t be. The room offered a small banquet of food, a bit of which we gratefully sampled, and a table stacked full of fans’ gifts for “the boys.” The coolest of these was a hairdryer that looked exactly like Dean Winchester’s favorite gun—and yes, it actually worked!

Danneel, of course, was quite comfortable in the green room and turned out to be very good at making us comfortable as well. Lynn asked questions. Danneel answered. Kathy breathed. Everything was going to work out just fine. Somewhere the unicorns of fandom were neighing happily.

And then the laptop went dead.

Kathy again tried to be unobtrusive as she flailed around trying to find an outlet. No point in making a bigger fool of herself, right? Sooner or later, though, it became apparent that she was in need of assistance and everyone, including Danneel, was up and scouting for an outlet, crawling under tables and moving furniture to do so. Danneel, we decided, had the patience of a saint. She never lost her sense of humor either, shrugging off our apology for keeping her from accompanying Jensen to the airport by wryly noting that “Jared would have been in the limo anyway, it’s not like we could have made out on the way to the airport” and jumping up to knock on wood when we asked her about the possibility of marriage.

In the midst of all the sitcom mishaps we did manage to carry on an interview…

You can read the rest of our misadventures (and the interview itself) with Danneel in the book, but Kathy and I left that day with a respect and affection for Danneel that has never faded.

Jensen posted a photo of her plunging a clogged toilet today for her birthday, and I laughed because it makes it clear that she’s still as genuine as she was that day she got down on the floor and crawled around looking for an outlet right along with us.

I’ve had the opportunity to chat with Danneel several times since our hilarious interview, and I think most people who have run into her at the brewery would say this too – she’s not afraid to be real.

I’m so glad Danneel was able to be part of Supernatural as a cast member before it ended, but really she’s always been part of the SPN Family. Happy birthday, Danneel – thanks for keeping it real!

–Lynn

Source: [x]

[liibrii]

Chapter 3: In the light, your name

Ojiro Aran x fem!reader

Series Masterpost || Ch. 1 || Ch. 2

wc: 4.7k

warnings: time skip spoilers, swearing, internalised guilt and shame, intrusive thoughts, self doubt, drinking.

a/n: this only took forever cause I got carried away (what a surprise). if you wanna be tagged in future chapters lemme know, and as always feedback is greatly appreciated! 

A step forward, two steps back. Like a dance, just like his mother taught him, dancing and laughing back home, only this dance holds no joy, only cruel turns and twirls and your hand slipping from his as fate whisks you away.

“One Ace special coming up!“ Osamu places a plate of freshly made onigiris in front of Aran. They look amazing, as if taken directly out of one of those fancy cooking books. The practice had been especially gruelling that day and yet Aran has no appetite. All he wants is to go home and sleep. He would have, if Gao hadn't dragged him to the newly opened Tokyo branch of Onigiri Miya.

More out of politeness than really being hungry he takes a bite. It's good, much better than ones he remembers Osamu bringing to practice. “Woah, this is tasty!“

Osamu practically beams at Aran's praise. Even he has changed, notices Aran. Has he grown a little? The grey of his hair is gone, and he smiles so much more. Aran doesn't remember ever seeing him so talkative.

Has everyone changed so much while he wasn't paying attention?

While chewing he pulls phone from his bag, in some silly hope there'd be a message from you. But the screen is empty and seeing his screensaver is almost a mocking to his hopes. What else did he expect? People don't always mean what they say, but a storm doesn't mean to blow away roofs either.

Lost in his thoughts Aran barely takes notice when Gao says his goodbye and other customers slowly start leaving.

Osamu closes the shop then places two more cans of beer on the counter. Without much enthusiasm Aran opens the can and pours the fizzling liquid into a glass. Which drink was it, third? Fourth? For a moment he considers telling Osamu everything. About you, how he feels and how he screwed up. Just to get it out there. But Aran knows Osamu talks to Atsumu, and Atsumu never learned what keeping a secret means. So he blames his sour mood on practice.

 Even if Aran was a good liar Osamu'd see through his little ticks. They've been the same ever since elementary school and so obvious; the nervous scratching of his nails, rubbing of his neck. Ever since he'd grown a beard he added rubbing it to the list.

“I should probably get goin',“ says Aran before downing half the glass in one long gulp.

“What's a few more minutes?“ Osamu doesn't bother pouring his beer. “I'll clean up later. Don't have any other plans anyway.“

A low chuckle leaves Aran's lips. “Life goin' that good, yeah?”

“Could say that. Could be far worse. How about ya?“

Aran massages his temples. He's getting light headed and still he takes another long sip. “Like ya said, could be far worse. Had a rough couple weeks. Women, ya know?“

Osamu hums and nods, wisely. “Women. Got dumped, did ya?“

“In a way...“

“What happened, did ya forget her birthday or somethin'?“

Aran laughs. Oh no, he knows exactly when your birthday is. “Said somethin' stupid.“

“Just somethin'? If she gets upset so fast then maybe she's trouble.“

“Wasn't like that. She trusted me and I... had a bad day and took it out on her.“

Osamu takes an onigiri Aran hasn't touched yet. “Have ya apologised?“ He asks with his mouth full. “Should start with that,“ he continues after Aran shakes his head, “treat her to dinner. I know some good restaurants if ya want. Or better, cook somethin' yerself.“ He opens the browser on his phone. “What's her favorite food?“

Aran tells him. “Whichever recipe ya find I can tell ya right now I can't cook it.“

“I found a few even Tsumu can make,“ laughs Osamu still scrolling through his phone. “What's she like? More into fancy stuff or more homey? Fried rice's easy but not very fancy, more of a safe bet. Maybe with an omelette. I can show ya how to make it to look like a panda. Success guaranteed!“

“How can omelette look like a panda? It's yellow.“ 

“A yellow bear then,“ Osamu shruggs before putting away his phone. “Does she like bears?“

“Does- I ain't sure...“

“Ya don't know?“

“No! Why would I? Is that what ya ask folk ya take on dates?“

“Usually I ask what they think about apple curry.“

“I don't think she likes apple curry... Or maybe she does...“ He gloomily stares at the empty glass in front of him. “Gimme one more.“

Osamu obliges and pours him one more, deciding this is the last one for him. Aran's eyes are getting glassy and he dreamily observes the white foam before downing half the glass.

“We went down to the Kamakura beach,” he says, scratching at his immaculate fingernails. “She looked s' pretty in the sunset... She likes sunsets... I think. Ain't sure 'bout anythin' these days.“

“Everyone likes sunsets,“ nods Osamu. “Never trust people who don't like seein' sunsets. I'm tellin' ya, buy her some udon. Or bring her here, I'll give ya a special discount.“

Aran bursts into laughter. “He'll know then...“ Osamu leans his head to the side, wondering what his old teammate meant by that. “She's ex of a friend.“

“Ow,“ is all Osamu says. That explains everything. You don't date a friends' ex. “Sorry. She sounds great.“

“Yeah, yeah she is... Kinda almost like a whasit's called again, kotatsu? Warm...“ He's just blabbering now, his mind a hazy labyrinth of disconnected thoughts. He misses you, he misses you so bad, and he fucked up, and he doubts cooking you a dinner would repair the damage he's done. Once it would be pretty easy to bribe you with the right snacks but you've changed. You've changed so much he still fears he doesn't know you at all. “Hey Samu? Hav' I changed?“

“Yea? I doubt the old Aran-kun wouldda come to me for advice.“

Corners of Aran's lips perk up. Why is his glass empty? “Yer a good guy ‘Samu. Can ya call me a taxi? I've got practice t'morrow.“

He has to stop visiting Onigiri Miya on the evenings Aran thinks on another morning after drinking and talking with Osamu till late night hours. The cool breeze of the early morning hours is refreshing but isn't doing anything to ease the hammering in his head. Sky without a cloud promises the day to be sunny and hot. Aran's just glad he found his sunglasses ad that the gym has air conditioning.

There's a distant ringing in his ears. Ringing that doesn't stop and causes other people on the train to send him sideway looks. It's because his phone is ringing but he's too focused on trying not to throw up to notice. He only does so once he's walking the short walk from the train station to the gym. Seeing your name over the 'missed call' almost makes him drop the phone. He calls you back, frantically tapping his fingers on his arm, hoping you'll pick up. You don't.

The sun is too bright. Pouring rain would be more appropriate to his mood. Aran's glad he can hide from the warm rays inside the gym. No matter his mood volleyball always takes his mind off things, and even now he hopes it will help him see things more clearly. The thought of you has become a wind chime, singing at every little thing that makes him think of you. Staying focused on the ball in front of him is harder than expected. But first and foremost he's a professional volleyball player with a new season just around the corner. He can't let his team, his fans down. Since your first year of high school you've been his supporter too. He can't let you down.

When his phone rings again he’s in the middle of receiving drills and this call too goes unanswered. Instead your message waits for him.

           (9. 45) Aran are u free this Sunday? the shrine down the street is holding a festival. wanna come?  

A wide smile spreads over his face. He's more than happy to come he writes back, his smile spreading even wider when only a few moments later you text him place and time.

“Ojiro what are you looking at?“ Gao peers over his shoulder and Aran quickly puts his phone away.

“Nothin'“

“Nothing, ey? Does the nothing have a name?“

Aran rolls his eyes and heads for the showers, ignoring the teasing laughter of his teammates. Honestly, he's too excited to see you to care.

Aran glances on his phone to check the time. Five more minutes and he'll be only ten minutes early. He kicks the small stone form the pavement onto the road. Then he straightens his shirt. Maybe this colour wasn't the right choice after all, maybe you would've liked the red one better. Once in passing Akagi said red looked good on him. He sends you a short message, letting you know he's already here.

Minutes later he catches the sight of your figure manoeuvring between visitors flocking towards the many stands. “Sorry, I got worried all the best mochi'd sell out,“ you apologise, pointing to plate full of different kinds of mochi in your hand. “Samu isn't here yet?“

“No.“ His heart clenches. He didn't even think about the possibility of you inviting anyone else. “He's probably just late,“ he quickly adds, “let me call him.“

“Always late,“ you complain, “tell him I got his mochi but if he doesn't appear soon I'll just eat them myself. Want one?“

He declines the sweet and you shrug. While he waits for Osamu to pick up he avoids looking at you. The call goes unanswered. “I'll send him a message.“

“Tell him every minute he's late is a free onigiri,“ you mumble, your mouth full of delicious mochi. “And he's paying for drinks. I saw a stand with soya smoothies up the street. And a stand with takoyaki.“

“Have ya mapped out all the food stands?“ chuckles Aran.

“Well you know Samu, food is his best motivator. You sure you don't want one?“

He gives in and takes the matcha one. He watches with a fond smile as you stuff an entire mochi in your mouth.

“What?“ you mumble when you catch him staring.

“Ya look like a hamster.“

You roll your eyes in an effort to cover the smile creeping on your face. “Very funny. How's life?“

“It's fine,“ he nods, awkwardly.

“Good.“

“Yeah.“ He rubs his chin. The beard is getting a little long. He glances over at you. He should say something. But what? “I'm really sorry about what I said,“ he finally utters. “I do care. About you.“

“We all say things we don't mean, right?“ The soft look in your eyes makes his throat tighten. He hurt you and yet here you are. Reaching out, again. “It's all water under the bridge. Besides, I really missed hanging out with you. So, where do ya wanna go?“

“Shouldn't we wait for Osamu?“

“Nah. It's his fault for being late, he'll find us. And he better buy us those smoothies. Want one more mochi? You should really try the chocolate one, it's amazing.“

Never again. Aran doesn't want to see you hurt ever again.

The festival is crowded, which is to be expected in Tokyo, and he keeps an eye out for you. The last thing he wants is to lose you somewhere in the sea of people. He stays close, quietly delighting in seeing your excitement over different attractions of the festival. A few times your hand brushes against his, sending a shiver down his spine.

Osamu never shows up, messaging about an hour later he got stuck at work, promising you both as many onigiri as you'd like the next time you come around Onigiri Miya. “A shame. I was hoping to hang out with him while he's still in Tokyo.“

“He'll have time in the future,“ says Aran, doing his best to ignore the pang of jealousy in his chest.

“Probably. But will there be fresh soya smoothie for him to treat me to?“

Aran buys you the smoothie you so crave, grinning upon seeing your excitement. You walk around the festival grounds and from time to time he steals sips of your smoothie. You pout and nag he should buy one for himself but don't stop him. 

As night falls you search for a good place to watch the fireworks from. Just after they start Aran puts his hand on the small of your back to gently push you forward so you'd see better. But you don't budge and he bumps into you, his chest to your back. The sounds of festival fade, as if the crowd disappeared and all that remains is you, looking at him, fireworks reflecting in your eyes. The softness of your gaze causes his heart to do somersaults. You snicker and flick his nose.

Tease, he thinks and tickles you. He wishes he could properly put his arms around you and rest his head on your shoulder. He wishes he was here as more than just your friend. He wishes he alone would be enough of a reason for you to always have the same soft look in your eyes.

But if Kita, the perfect Kita Shinsuke, Kita who knew you better than anyone wasn't enough, how could he be?

His hand lingers on your arm for a heartbeat longer. He could try, he could always love you with all he has and hope you'd love him back, hope he could be enough. But if he failed... he'd only hurt you more, wouldn't he? And you've been hurt enough.

During lunch break his phone rings and his hearts jumps, hoping it's you. But instead Osamu's name is written over the screen. A bit disappointed Aran picks up.

“Aran-kun whatcha doin' this Saturday?“ Not even a'hello'. So many years and still so rude.

“Practice till afternoon, then watchin' a movie.“

“Amazin'! Want some company?“

A boys' night out? Why not? It would be nice to spend some time with someone who wasn't his teammate. “'Course.“

Osamu laughs. “Knew ya would. I happen to know someone interested in a blind date. I'll tell her to meet ya at the cinema.“

“What? Osamu I'm not really one for blind dates-“

“The ex of a friend. She's Kita-san' ex, isn't she?“ Aran's silence is an answer enough. “Ya asked me for advice. This is it, go out, try meetin' someone else. Whatever you want to have with her it won't end well.“

Aran knows. He knows all that. He knows you returning his feelings would be the worst case scenario. Sooner or later he'd have to tell Kita. “I know,“ he says. “I know that.“

Osamu doesn't answer immediately, waiting if Aran will add anything else. “Just go on this one date, see how it goes.“

“I'll think about it.“

He does think about it. The entire day in fact. Meeting someone new would be nice and who knows, she might be the one he's waiting for. A part of him, the guilty part that's been way too loud in the past weeks, stays firmly against the idea. Searching for the right one when you're right here. What if this blind date is just a crazy fan who somehow found her way to meeting him? And what about you, it asks? It would be cruel wouldn't it, leading you on while going on dates behind your back.

But he isn't leading you on, Aran argues with the voice inside his head, you're just a friend anyway. He cares about you yes, but only as a really good friend. Osamu is right, you should never be more than that. You're Kita's ex. And you don't date your friend's ex. So why break his heart further?

           (17.48) I'll go on the date. send me time and place.

That's the thing about making plans, the moment you make them something else comes up. Just the following day his phone rings, making his heart flutter when he sees your name.

“Hey.“ Your voice alone makes him smile. “I, uhm, I have a request.“

No beating around the bush. It makes Aran wonder if you've been hanging with Osamu so much you picked up his habits. “Oh, do ya?“

“Yeah. It’s is a bit awkward... Listen, I have a very important exam next week but my roommate's gonna have her boyfriend over for the entire weekend. Let's just say earplugs aren't helping and leave it at that, yeah? So, could I maybe crash at your place till then? I just need a quiet place to study. I can sleep on the couch! Or the floor, I really don't care!“

“'Course ya can,“ says Aran without hesitation.

This is how we finds himself sitting with a bunch of your notes in his lap, you leaning on his back explaining one of the questions. There are at least 4 empty mugs on the desk of his living room. He hopes you've left some coffee for breakfast.

He's amazed by how naturally you fit into his life. Almost like the space beside his shoes in the closet was meant for yours and the jacket hanging beside his was always meant to be there. You've even found your favourite mug already. The bedroll on the floor of the living room is the only reminder you're only crashing at his place for a couple of days. If you asked he'd let you stay longer.

The next morning you wake up the same time as him, sipping your first cup of coffee for the day, half asleep and draped in the hoodie he strategically left on the counter last night. You don't even raise a brow when he takes your phone and asks you to unlock it. “I'll send ya a playlist. Just some classical music. It's good for studyin'.“

“Sure,“ you answer in a groggy voice. “Have fun bouncing the ball around,“ you wave him off when he gets ready to leave.

Your sleepy face makes him smile for the rest of the day. Practice runs longer than usual and he returns late, stepping over two stairs at the time. The lights are still on when he enters but there's no answer when he calls out. He finds you behind the desk, so absorbed in your notes you don't notice his approach. When he places his hands on your shoulders you jump and shriek. “Aran!“ You remove your headphones. “Do you want to give me a heart attack?!“ He laughs and you smack his leg before he sits on the floor beside you.

“Is the material so interestin'?“ He looks over your many notes and pushes an empty mug to the edge of the table.

“I was listening to music,“ you rub your eyes. He notices they look a bit reddish. He takes your phone and clicks the play button and music continues. It only takes him a moment to recognise the piece.

“Dmitri Shostakovich, Waltz number 2. My mom's favourite. Used to dance to it with dad every Thursday.“

“That's sweet.“

He stands up and offers you his hand. “Come, ya need a break.“

You take his hand without question, only raising your brow when he places his left hand on your back. “Ya have to put your hand on my shoulder,“ he grins to your more than apparent confusion.

“Oh, right,“ you mumble. “I can't really dance you know. Not waltz at least.“

He gently holds your right hand in his and gives you a reassuring squeeze. “Don't worry, I'll teach ya. I start with my right foot forward, ya step back with yer left, yep, just like that, then my left foot forward,“ you jump in surprise when he turns you around, “and the first turn, now yer right foot forward, then left, and turn. See, it ain't hard.“

“Easy for you to say,“ you disagree, your eyes fixed on his feet and your mind preoccupied with trying not to step on his toes.

“Just follow my lead,“ grins Aran, gently pulling you a little closer.

He counts the steps and beats in his head and step after another you relax and follow his lead. All those Thursdays when dad wasn't home and mom pulled him into taking his place are finally paying off.

“I didn't know you could dance so well.“

Aran laughs at your words and gently pushes you into a twirl under his arm. “I guess there's a lot ya don't know,“ he says when he pulls you closer again. 

You follow his steps and soon begin catch on the slightest of his moves. Music changes but you don't let go so you dance on through his living room, off beat and saying quiet 'Sorry's,' every time you step on his toes. The way your brows furrow when you mess up is adorable but Aran doesn't give you the time to ponder over the mistake, pulling you into the next turn with ease and certainty of someone who has danced these steps countless times.

When the last song ends Aran leaves his hand on your back. You're so close, your hand in his. Looking and smiling at him. His eyes linger on your lips. It would take so little to close the space between you. So little that would change so much.

He pulls away.“ Do ya want tea?“

“Don't I always?“ you muse and head to put the water on, then open the cupboard but the last cups stand on the highest shelf and even on your tiptoes you can't reach them. Aran gently pushes you to the side and reaches for them. “Here.“

He pours himself a glass of water then pulls his phone out to check the time. Shit. The blind date. That's today! He glances over at you, making your tea, humming the melody of the last song you danced too. His heart drops.

What is he doing? He can't... This is getting out of control. He clenches the glass tighter. You're so close, he wouldn't even have to fully extend his arm to tap your shoulder. If, right here and now, he told you how he feels, how would you react? He lifts the glass to his lips. Probably not in the way he wants you to. A leap of faith, one that could take him anywhere. To the love of his life, he thinks watching you stir, or to the stone to shatter the friendship you both tried so hard to rebuild. A risk he doesn't have the courage to take.

The half empty glass he leaves in the sink draws your attention. You watch Aran head for the bedroom and you don't think much of it. It's his apartment, he can do what he wants. It's only when almost ten minutes pass that you decide to poke your head through the door to see what he's up to. The clothes he's wearing certainly aren't what one would wear for staying at home. “Going somewhere?“ you ask, curious as to why he's wearing a pretty alright polka dotted shirt.

“I have a date.“ He awkwardly fixes his collar. He doesn't want to meet your eyes.

There's a short silence before you answer. “A date? In this shirt?“

Your judgemental tone makes him turn. “What's wrong with this shirt?”

You scrunch up your nose. “It gives you that,“ you wiggle your fingers, “successful businessman in his forties looking for a wife vibes.“

“What's wrong with that?“

“What's wrong with-?! Aran! You're a professional athlete!“ You enter his bedroom and start looking through the closet. “Don't you get invited to fashion shows and stuff? One would expect you'd get some fashion sense purely through osmosis. Ouch!“ you yelp when he playfully smacks your shoulder. “Here, this one.“ You hand him a shirt of dark violet colour.

He takes it from your hands and inspects it. Then he hands it back. “I like this one better. And I'm runnin' late already anyway.“

You shrug and hang it back. “As you wish Mr. CEO. Wait, are you bringing your date back here?! Shit, I need to clean up my stuff.“

“Relax. I'm not bringin' anyone back. It's a blind date anyway. Ya keep studyin' alright? I'll be very disappointed if ya don't get the highest mark.“

“What do you mean a blind date? Damn, I didn't expect that from you player boy,“ you tease and it's a distraction enough for Aran to miss the forced smile.

“Osamu's idea.“

A small “Ah,“ is all you reply at first. “Get going then, being late is the worst you can be on the first date!“ You push him out of the room. “Have fun, don't say anything stupid, and don't only talk about volleyball.“

“It's not my first date y/n, gosh, stop bein' such a mom. Why are ya so excited anyway?“

“Probably too much caffeine.“

When he returns you're still up. You have two cups of tea ready before he even takes his shoes off.

“So, how was it?“ You push the cup across the table. “Come on, come on, no need to be shy,“ you grin, “tell me!“

Aran rolls his eyes at your sudden excitement. “It was nice, but nothin’ special,“ he tells you.

“Just nice?“ You tap your fingers on the table. Aran recognises the rhythm, it's one of your favourite songs. You sent it to him a few days ago. “Dating must be harder now that you're famous,“ you say, absent-mindedly. “Or is it easier?“

Before answering he takes a cracker from the bowl on the table. “Harder,“ is the answer he settles on. “Ya never know if they're attracted to ya or yer status. What about ya?“ He focuses on chewing crackers and taking small sips of tea, anything to keep from glancing at you.

“Ah you know,“ you sigh, “have enough other problems at the moment. College is messing with my head enough already. Why put another person in the mix?“ This time Aran doesn't miss how your voice trembles, and how you rub your forehead. Maybe you just have a light headache. You do look exhausted.

He changes the subject, feeling the talk of dating is quickly approaching dangerous territory. “How are ya feelin'? With studyin' and all?“

You lean on your hand. “Could be much worse. It's just a lot. Probably should have started with studying earlier.“

“But with work ya didn't even have enough time, right? Don't be too hard on yerself.“

“Actually, I quit. I thought it would help me focus on studying,“ you say upon seeing his questioning gaze.

“Ya know what will help ya study better? Some good night's sleep.“ He takes your empty cup. “I'll do the dishes, ya go ready for bed. No talkin' back,“ he points his finger to your face, “ my house, my rules. No stayin' up past midnight.“

“It's one in the morning.“

“Past time for ya to go to bed then young lady.“

After that you don't protest and before he even finishes doing the dishes you're snuggled on your bedroll and half asleep. Seeing you fills him with warmth. He could get used to this, coming home to you every night. He turns the lights off.

When he lays in his bed he wonders what's with the sinking feeling in his chest. There's anger. Why were you so excited for his date in the first place? Why did you look almost disappointed when he said it was nothing special? He hugs his pillow, thinking he'd much rather it was you in his arms. You must be soft. If only you'd be here, his nose filled with the scent of your shampoo. Teeth of shame sink in his heart. Why does he have to feel like this?

He wants you to be jealous. It's so damn childish, he knows that. It's something his teenager self felt when you hugged Kita after a game but only gave him a high five and a head pat.

How long is he going to keep lying to himself? He's in love with you. Not the you he remembers. You here and now. You sipping your fourth cup of coffee, you frantically flipping through notes wearing one of his old hoodies. That at least hasn't changed; you still steal any hoodie you can get your grabby little hands on. Not steal, he corrects himself, borrow. You borrow them. For an undetermined period of time.

He buries his face in the pillow. You're not the always cheerful manager he remembers anymore. But you are still you.

Tag list: @aonenthusiast @rosecaffelatte @kara-grayson04

[defstolemyheart]

ex - kim seungmin, park jinyoung pt i

tags: angst, , jinyoung x fem! reader, brother! seungmin, cheating trope

note: another one I cross posted from my instagram. this was my tribute for Seungmin’s and Jinyoung’s birthday, since they both share birthdate! I was inspired after listening to Stray Kids - EX.

word count: 2.5k

synopsis:

Kim Seungmin prides himself for being extremely patient, and for having the decency to never cuss at anything or anyone, no matter how intense his emotions are.

But Park Jinyoung deserves none of Seungmin’s groomed patience and decency.

Not after what he has done to you.

No.

Park Jinyoung can go fuck himself.

--

A ring. And another. And another one. 

Again and again, the doorbell rings for over a dozen times before Seungmin drags himself out of the comfort of his bed, murmuring annoyance under his morning breath. He takes his time stepping downstairs to the living room, rubbing the remains of sleep off his eyes before glancing at the wooden clock on the TV stand. 7.14 AM.

It’s far too early on a Sunday morning to wake up and irritation begins to grow rapidly under his skin as the doorbell won’t stop ringing. Who would be so cruel and dumb as to visit people’s house this early on a rest day?

“Tsk.” 

Seungmin’s face contorts to disgust as soon as he opens the front door of his house. Any trace of sleepiness in his being disappears as he slams the door shut, only to bounce back as the person on the other side of the door is forcing it to stay open. Their sneaker clad foot lodges between the teak door and the doorframe.

“Fuck off, Jinyoung. My sister doesn’t want to see your face.” Seungmin puts his body against the door, exerting as much force as he could to close it and paying no mind that the person outside, Park Jinyoung, asshole extraordinaire, is yelping in pain.

“First, address me properly, I’m older than you. Second, let my fucking feet go, it fucking hurts. And third, please, please let me talk to y/n, I’m begging you, Seungmin.”

“Ha!” Seungmin scoffs. “Don’t you think you got the order wrong? Beggars can’t be choosers, Jinyoung. You’re not welcomed here. Go home.”

Seungmin pushes the door again, but Jinyoung persists despite yelling out curses in agony as his toes are practically being crushed in his shoes. For a split second, Seungmin considers kicking on Jinyoung’s ankle until it breaks. Or should he just go get his baseball bat and beat the shit out of Jinyoung?

“I’m sorry Seungmin, please, please let me talk to your sister.”

“No! Fuck you! I’m not going to let you see her and just cause her more pain, you asshole!”

“I was wrong, Seungmin. Please, man…”

“You dumped her!” Seungmin’s patience is running thin, much like his strength now. Why couldn’t Jinyoung come after breakfast so that Seungmin would have a lot more energy than he is now? In fact, he could’ve just not come at all. “You. Fucking. Asshole. You threw my sister away, after she forgave you despite knowing you fucking cheated on her. You dumped my kind, loving sister, for some- some dumb ugly bitch.”

Jinyoung groans at Seungmin’s words. “Seungmin, I’ll tell you what really happened. Please let me in.”

“NO! I AM NOT LETTING YOU STEP INTO THIS HOUSE!”

“Please-”

“You hurt her! You fucking hurt her when all she’s ever done is love you.” Jinyoung flinches, all struggles pausing at the younger’s words, and Seungmin feels tears forming on the corners of his eyes. 

His lids squeeze shut in an attempt to barricade the tears in, but it’s a vain effort because they eventually break through and Seungmin weeps as he tries his best to push Jinyoung out.

Call him weak and sissy for crying, but who wouldn’t be, if they were in his shoes? 

Seungmin came home from school early two days ago, one of the off chances that a senior in high school like him rarely gets. 

He was excited because he finally gets to sleep or play games or most likely sleep. Seungmin barely has time to sleep the past six months because of afterschool studies and late night classes, so he was looking forward to diving and snuggling in the soft comforter on his bed. But he threw his plans out the window the moment he opened the door and saw you, his older sister, slumping against the wall by your entryway. 

You were crying- fists pounding merciless hits on your own legs as screams continuously ripped from your throat, curses he had never heard you say are targeted to yourself.

Seungmin flustered and panically asked you what had happened. The sight of Seungmin had you sobbing so mournfully. He scooped you up and carried you to your room, your trembling hands landing hits on his chest as you wanted Seungmin to just let you be. But how could he? 

You were just fine in the morning, all bright smiles when you served him breakfast in place of your mother, who was out with your father, visiting your grandparents for the week. You were laughing as you chased after Seungmin who forgot his bus pass. You were giggling when his eyes widened at the ten thousand won bill you slipped in his hand, a pleasant surprise that had him thanking you with a wink which made you laugh louder.

And just mere hours later, you were all tears, and he was utterly confused but he did the best he could to comfort you. He wrapped you in your soft fuzzy blanket, and hugged you, rocking you back and forth in his hold as you broke down completely, like somebody just tore your heart out. 

And somebody did. 

Fucking Park Jinyoung did.

You cried for hours, with your brother hugging you through the hiccups and the hyperventilations, side effects of weeping your lungs out. He took all the hits you threw to his chest, all the while your trembling lips uttered your boyfriend’s name painfully. 

Seungmin’s heart hurt, not from all the beating, but from witnessing you as your heart shattered to pieces. And he was angry. Even as he rubbed comforting circles on your back, rage pulsed through him in turbulent ripples.

He wanted to curse at Park Jinyoung. 

Curse him and pummel to the floor him for making you cry, because Seungmin could already guess what Park Jinyoung had done to you, to cause you to weep this hard. Though he hoped for it to not be true.

And when you finally calmed down and told him what happened with stuttered words and a shredded voice, confirming his hypothesis, Seungmin wanted to find the man and kill him on the spot. The only thing holding him back is his conscience and the fact that your fragile self needed all the comfort you can get. He couldn’t let you be alone that night because right after the calm, the storm of sadness hit you again and your body shook violently as you cried and Seungmin was scared that if he left, worse things would happen. 

So he stayed up all night that night, and last night he kept waking up every other hour because he was scared you’d break down again.

Now he’s crying, because he’s thoroughly tired, hurt, offended and enraged. His teeth sink in his dry, chapped lips, holding back more tears as he wipes the remaining ones off his eyes. 

“Fuck off, Jinyoung!” He cries out as he pushes on the door with his knee, gritting on the pain erupting from the joint.

Your mother would have fainted if she heard what Seungmin said just now. She’d have a heart attack if she heard what his youngest child has been spouting for the last five minutes since Jinyoung’s arrival.

Never, in the relatively short time he’s been living on earth, has Seungmin ever uttered profanities. It’s something that his friends found to be rather baffling but he really likes about himself.

Kim Seungmin prides himself for being extremely patient, and for having the decency to never cuss at anything or anyone, no matter how intense his emotions are. 

He was raised gently, by both of his parents, and you, his older sister. The three of you would speak to him softly, though stern at crucial moments. Your parents are saints. They never snapped at you and Seungmin, never letting their emotions take control of themselves. 

Their patience is unwavering even when the both of you made the stupidest decisions. Their lips never once uttered curses, not at you, or him, not at anyone. They’d rather stay silent even in times of frustrations, while others would’ve rambled all the names of the animals in the zoo and come up with even more vile terms to say.

And his upbringing really, really shaped Seungmin to be the boy that he is now.

But Park Jinyoung deserves none of Seungmin’s groomed patience and decency.

Not after what he has done to you.

No.

Park Jinyoung can go fuck himself.

Better yet, maybe Seungmin should really grab his baseball bat and beat the older man to a pulp.

Seungmin’s heels dig hard on the cold floor, trying their best to hold his stance as Jinyoung won’t relent. “Just- Seungmin- please, give me five minutes, please.”

“No. Kindly fuck off please, Jinyoung, before I call the police on you.”

Jinyoung’s arm flails into the gap of the door, hand reaching around to grasp on the door handle the younger is holding with his life. Seungmin lands a particularly hard hit on the older’s hand and slams the door once more, positively bruising the older man’s arm. Jinyoung shouts in pain and retracts himself away from the door and Seungmin uses the chance to close and lock the door twice, for safety measure.

He slumps against the creaking wood, chest heaving as he tries to regain composure. But it’s hard to do so when Jinyoung is now banging fervently from the other side.

“If you’re not getting off our porch in two minutes, I am seriously going to call the cops on you, Jinyoung!” Seungmin yells, anger seeping out in every syllable he utters. “And we have CCTV installed on the porch last week. I will show them the tapes and tell them you’re harassing my sister if you won’t leave.”

Seungmin hears Jinyoung groaning, and his steps slowly fading away from the door. Through the small window by the door, Seungmin takes a peek of the world outside. Jinyoung is walking out of their gate, hand roughly ruffling his brown locks out of frustration. The steel gate closes with a loud bang as Jinyoung slams it close after him.

Rude, Seungmin mutters under his breath.

The boy stands up and decides he needs to hydrate his parched throat. All that cursing and screaming really took a toll on his vocal chords, but Seungmin thinks they’re worth the soreness and inability to speak loudly for the next few days.

He gets to the kitchen and pours himself a glass of water. He leans on the kitchen counter, closes his eyes and sips his water slowly. His whole body begins to ache, though it was no surprise because he was basically roughhousing the door to keep Jinyoung out. He pats himself in the back for doing such hard work so early on a Sunday morning.

“Good job, Kim Seungmin. You did very well-” He nearly chokes himself when he opens his eyes to you appearing silently next to him. “N-noona. You’re up already?”

It’s been a day since he’s seen you out of your room, and you’re not looking any better than he saw you last when you sat on the living room couch at 5 AM yesterday, crying as you finished a pint of the mint and dark chocolate ice cream he had saved for foreseeable moments of mental breakdowns that commonly plagued high school seniors in the country. 

Seungmin didn’t protest like he’d usually do when you swiped his snacks away. He thought you needed the sugar boost more than him, and probably more, so your brother went out to the convenient store and got you another pint to finish. 

He wondered if all heartbroken people can finish two pints of icecream in one sitting at the crack of dawn. He wondered if he’s heartbroken, will he become like this too? Or will he be the cause of someone’s cries and binge-eating.

He still wonders until now, how much people can hurt each other, as he looks at you.

His eyes study you with palpable worry. Your skin is pallid, with dry, tender patches around your nose, the effect of rubbing it harshly with tissues as you tried to soak snot and tears that pooled around it from hours of crying. Your eyes are bloodshot and tired, apparent from the bags under your eyes. You crack a feeble smile, and he smiles back, just as weak.

“Was that Jinyoung?” you ask hesitantly and Seungmin isn’t quite sure how to answer, the question feels almost rhetorical.

“Yeah. Jinyoung was here. He wanted to see you.” Seungmin sips more of his water, Jinyoung’s name gives a bitter aftertaste in his mouth.

Seungmin grabs a clean mug from the upper cabinet and pours you warm water. You take it gratefully, though your hands still tremble and it doesn’t go unnoticed by your brother. You didn’t eat last night. He knows that because after the morning melt-down over ice-cream you asked to be left alone in your room and he hadn’t heard the door opening at all.

“Noona, I’m going to cook breakfast. What do you want?” Seungmin asks, wanting to get Jinyoung off and away from your mind and also genuinely worried for your well being. You shake your head lightly, though and he squints his eyes to you in hard judgement.

“I don’t feel like eating, Min.” you reply weakly.

“If you’re going to cry again, you at least need some energy to do that.” Seungmin huffs a tired sigh and you chuckle sorrowfully from your brother’s words.

“Okay then. Anything but pancakes.” you sip the water slowly, feeling the way it slides down your throat and warming up your stomach. “Your pancakes are horrible.”

“Just because I burnt them twice- nevermind. I’ll make toast and sunny side ups. Do you want bacon? Or sausage?” He makes his way to the fridge and grabs some eggs and bread.

“Sausage.” you sit down on the stool of the kitchen island, watching your brother looking for sausages from the freezer, brows furrowing as he’s considering between blackpepper or cheese sausage. “Do we still have salad-mix, Min? I think I need some vegetables in my system.”

He puts the ingredients he has in his arms on the counter and comes back to the fridge, hand rummaging the shelves for the clear plastic packaging he was sure to have seen last night. “We do. I’ll mix them with the roasted sesame dressing.”

“But you don’t like sesame dressing.” Your eyes widen, perplexed, and Seungmin clicks his tongue at your statement.

“Let me be a good brother for a day, will you?”

You laugh, albeit shaky, and it brings a smile to Seungmin’s previously scowling face. 

“You’ve always been a good brother.” you say and Seungmin beams even more, feeling rather fired up to cook you the best breakfast he can fix.

In his excitement he hums and the kitchen is filled with the sound of him cooking and singing, that he fails to catch your whisper.

“Thank you, Seungmo.”

--

end notes: I feel like this is sort of cringe, but hey, baby steps, right? I’ll post part two tomorrow!

[bubble-tae]

BTS React to S/O Crying

“Hello! Can I request a bts reaction? They hear their s/o crying and then find out it was just because of a video of a puppy/baby XD thank you! ❤️” - anon

Warnings: Jimin’s mentions animal abuse

reposted from old account

NAMJOON

It was well known that Joon couldn’t help but be enamored by cute things. He even bought baby shoes for himself because he insisted that were just so adorable. It was an endearing quality of course, but being sent baby video after baby video made you numb to toddlers taking their first steps. When he came up to you with this sad expression for the thousandth time since you’ve known him, you merely rolled your eyes. He didn’t bother being hurt by your disinterest, knowing you’d eventually take his phone, which you did.

Instead of the normal video of a baby doing something cute, you were met with a FaceBook post about a child’s birthday party. Reading further, you saw that no one showed up to this little girl’s birthday party. The parents were asking for people to come, just so she would feel that people cared about her. You screenshotted the post onto Joon’s phone and wiped the tears that formed from your eyes.

“We have to go” you told him. He held his hands in yours.

“I already have a gift” he smiled back at you.

JIN

“How about I make us some popcorn?” Jin had suggested. It was day two of your period, and to help you through your particularly rough cramps you and Jin had decided on having a good ole fashion movie night. The candy barely made it halfway through the movie, and after something so sweet, Jin knew you’d be craving something salty.

While you heard the microwave whirring, you picked up your phone and went onto the Instagram explore page. As per usual, it was full of funny images and pictures of cute furry little animals. You clicked on a picture of a handsome dog, and your phone started playing a sad piano tune. The dog was waiting at the front door for someone to come home, and when the door opened it was a veteran home for a visit. The dog jumped into his arms and the man started crying, and before realizing it you were crying too.

Jin most have heard you because he bolted from the kitchen nearly slipped right onto his ass. He kneeled in front of you, asking a million questions. Between sobs he could make out the words “he come home” which I’m confused him further. You handed him the phone to watch the video, crying louder when the dog jumped into his arms again. Though Jin laughed he sat next to you and held you in his arms, the giggling in his chest almost putting you to sleep. That is, until you both smelled the burnt popcorn.

YOONGI

You were FaceTiming Yoongi from home while he was on tour. He was in some city and could barely keep his eyes open, but he insisted on seeing you before he fell asleep.

“It was actually a really good show tonight” he said after yawning. Your phone buzzed in your hand, a notification coming in from your friend. It read URGENT at the beginning.

“Hold on, I think somethings wrong” you said as you clicked the notification. Your face disappeared from Yoongi’s screen, only able to hear the quiet tapping of your fingers. He was on the hotel bed drifting into sleep when he heard the first sniffle, mistaking it for you maybe just having a cold. When you let out a small whine he sat up abruptly, almost dropped the phone off the side of the bed.

“What? What’s wrong? What’s happening?” He kept asking.

“Y/BFF/N… her daughter…” you let out.

“What’s wrong?” Yoongi asked again. Your face reappeared on his screen, this time with puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks. His heart sank and he feared for the worst. She was only three, and didn’t seem to have any health issues besides having minimal hearing.

“She…” you choked on your words, “she learned how to sign my name!” You finally let out with another cry and laying back down on your bed.

Yoongi let out an exasperated sigh, hand subconsciously finding his way to his chest.

“That’s amazing, sweetheart.”

HOSEOK

You jumped on Hobi as he lay on your shared bed watching videos. He let out a small groan when you put your weight on top of him before wrapping his free arm around you.

“Watcha doing?” You asked nosily, exceptionally bored on this Sunday morning.

“Watching fail compilations. Wanna watch?” He asked, already adjusting his arms so you can see his phone screen. He exited out the video he was watching so you can pick a new one together. There was one that had a thumbnail of a cat on a water slide, and you picked it immediately without even consulting your boyfriend.

“Hey!” He whined.

Before the video loaded, an ad began to play. It showed images of malnourished dogs with matted coats.

“SKIP IT!” you yelled at him. His hands frantically searched for the ‘skip ad’ function, but there was none.

“I CAN’T” he yelled back in the same distressed tone as you. The both of you sat screaming at his phone as more dogs kept appearing, until finally the tears were rolling down your face. The actual video started playing, but neither of the two of you were in the mood for funny videos anymore. You hid your head into the pillow while Hobi rubbed your back, letting out little sniffles as well.

“We have to donate…” you sniffled out.

JIMIN

“Why is this fun, again?” you asked Jimin as he set up his laptop in front of the both of you. Somehow in the midst of poking fun at each other, you had said that Jimin was a crybaby. He was determined to prove you wrong, setting up a “Try Not To Cry” challenge on his computer.

“It’s not, that’s the point.” he responded.

“Aw, did I hurt your ego?” you poked at him, only getting a side eye in return as he hit play.

The video started out fairly easy, cute animals and babies doing silly things that weren’t even sad, but about halfway through, things started to turn grim. The video did no work to even censor things that you definitely didn’t want to see. Your stomach didn’t turn easily but it was hard to keep watching. Jimin hadn’t moved an inch beside you, but you knew that the video was bothering him too. The last straw for you came when an image of a deathly sick child appeared on the screen. You slammed the laptop shut and your eyes started to water. Jimin sat up and clapped his hands together.

“I won!” he yelled with a smile on his face. You just looked at him as you cried, watching his face turn from happy to distraught as he realized what he had done. He pulled you into a hug, and even though he won, he felt like he lost.

TAEHYUNG

Taehyung, your husband, had been trying without much luck to transfer old videos he had on his phone onto the household computer.

“It just won’t work!” he whined at you in frustration when you asked him how things were going.

“Let me help” you said has he stood from the chair so you can sit down. He watched carefully over your shoulder as you dragged around different files and accepting certain security questions. The videos were beginning to transfer, but one caught your eye in particular. It was of yours and Tae’s first daughter when she was still a baby. It felt like only yesterday, but nearly 4 years and 2 more pregnancies have passed since then. You clicked on it and Tae’s hand made its way to your shoulder. The video started playing, and the room around you was filled with your daughter’s little giggles, and the screen had her rolling around in her cute little leggings.

You watched her raise herself onto wobbly legs, taking two shakey steps before falling into Taehyung’s arms. You were crying before the video was over, and you could hear sniffles from the man behind you as well.

“How about we pick her up early today?” he suggested. You nodded, and took no time to get up to go get your daughter.

JUNGKOOK

Last night you dreamt of your late dog again. It had been weeks since he was put down, but with Jungkook gone on tour the house just seemed even more empty. You tried to perk up and get on with your day knowing that Kook would be home shortly, but nothing seemed to lift your mood. You were very vocal to your boyfriend about your feelings, but he seemed to have shrugged off your text almost completely. To make things worse, his plane was going to be coming in a few hours late.

It was around ten when you heard your phone going off, an incoming FaceTime from Jungkook. You accepted it immediately.

“Baby..” he let out softly, “I think I’m going to be even later than I said.” Your eyes began to sting as tears threatened to break. All you wanted was him home tonight to hold you while you slept. Tears started to fall as you let out a small, “I miss you.”

“Don’t cry, his paperwork is just taking longer than I expected.” he said. You wiped the tears from your eyes and looked back at the phone. Joining Jungkook in the frame was a beautiful dog with a bandana on that read “ADOPT ME!”

“Meet Duke!” Jungkook continued, “our new rescue pup!” There were more tears coming now, this time from joy, and you practically begged him for his location so you can come there and meet them both.

[largesunglasses]

I know I'm wicked annoying right now but I'm anxious so I have to write it out.

My dad has to stay out until the 8th as long as he or anyone in the house doesn't have symptoms/test positive. My mom has to test negative with a pcr(I hope I'm writing the right letters) and so do my dad and I before she can go back to work. I have to stay out for ten days with the same stipulation as my dad. My return date is the 4th which happens to be the first of my few days off leading up to my birthday. My boss told me I could still have them and talked to my DM who agreed. I went back and forth because I'm pretty sure I don't have enough PTO but if I return to work on the 4th my boss has to redo the schedule for everyone else. My thought was I don't want to mess with people's schedules more and if I or someone in my household shows symptoms/tests positive I assume that counts as re-exposure and then will she have to scramble to fill my shifts that I already had off. She agrees it's better to give it the extra few days. I will go back on the 9th. I also feel extremely guilty for taking the time off.

I FaceTimed with Patrick earlier he's staying in their basement. My sisters been down there with him since she's received both her vaccines and well he's 8 and scared of the basement like me. I feel bad for him. I also feel bad for Soph too.

I'm not normally a big birthday person anyway but last year this time I was feeling good. Decided to go out for my birthday which I don't normally do. Dinner with friends then the casino and maybe a 3 am mcdonald's run on the way back to my friends where I slept until noon and then went home for Sunday dinner. I felt like 32 was going to be the year that led me to good things. I'm all about numbers and mostly 3s so turning 32 was going to be the year I finally accomplished something and got myself together for 33. Now March 8th will be here before I know it and I feel like I've done nothing but take a giant leap back. In a way I'm happy I'm 32 and living at home during a pandemic. In a way I'm mad at myself for almost being 33 and still living at home. I've never taken health for granted having the father I do and I think a lot of people feel the same after the past year. I know a lot of people have it way worse. I'm just feeling big time sad and really nervous about my family right now and I need to write it out.

[yellow401]

I need to know

“I need to know,” I prayed.

“Lord, I need to know that all of this is not just a reaction, a defense mechanism from a damaged 14-year-old boy.”

“I need to know that this is real, not just a fence I’ve put up because I’m too afraid of my past.”

“I need to know, because I cannot continue down this path if it’s not real. I cannot continue, if I don’t know.”

I said this prayer in the bathroom, because it’s one of the places I can go to pray. I figured out one day that I’ve never lived alone—I went from living with my parents to living with a missionary companion, then to roommates in college, then I was married. Now we have reproduced. So, I pray where I can; where no one will see me but God.

On my twenty-fifth birthday, I was at a Thai restaurant with my family, and I excused myself from the table because I couldn’t keep from crying. I went into the bathroom then, too—it was one of those that just has one toilet in it, and you lock the door. As soon as I locked the door and sat down, I heard a voice in my head as clear as day: “It’s just you and me now. You can tell me whatever you need to tell me.” It was the voice of God.

I immediately lost it. I sobbed my heart out in that bathroom, praying to God. And He listened to every word. I know that today as much as I knew it then. And for the first time that whole day and the sleepless night that preceded it, I felt peace.

That night, I prayed in my bedroom alone when my roommates were not around. I was crying again. “¿Cómo puede ser que yo no cambie?” How can it be, that I cannot change? By then I understood that “change” was not going to involve my sexuality; nor did I expect to pray any of that part of myself out of my life. I could handle that. But I also understood by this point that, for better or worse, my lot lay with the Church, with the Gospel of Jesus Christ, not as a spectator or an ally, but as a practitioner, and, unfortunately, as a leader. No, I wasn’t trying to un-gay myself that night; but I was trying to un-sin, to un-loser, to un-coward. To finally take that leap of faith and live according to the covenants I knew were right, the life I knew I needed to live even if I tried to ignore it. Excruciating, that; the ignoring it, I mean. Don’t do it if you can help it.

Each of these times, I had a good cry between myself and the Lord, then I wiped my tears and went out into the world. Each of these times, there were people depending on me, and I didn’t need them to see me broken.

Bettina is not the main character in Freie Fall, but she’s my favorite. When she finds out that her husband has been cheating on her with one of his male colleagues, she takes their baby and goes to stay with friends for a while. He tracks her down and they have a spectacularly awkward exchange on the doorstep. She finally broaches the word “gay,” and he can only stammer, “I’m . . . not . . .” To which she quietly replies, “Was bist du, dann?” What are you, then? When he doesn’t respond, she shouts at him in justified anger, “WAS BIST DU, DANN?” He still says nothing, and she slams the door in his face.

Some time later, on another sleepless night, I didn’t know why but I felt like my heart would burst. I prayed, “Lord of Heaven and Earth, You who know all things, who looked at Your creation and decided that for some reason at this time the world needed one of me in it, WHAT AM I, THEN?”

The answer came quickly. “You’re not gay. Not just gay, anyway.” That was not the answer I expected. Well, fine. I guess I could handle that. God didn’t seem to mind telling me that I was odd; maybe He knew what He was doing.

Brief history of my life: 1999-2011: took shit from the Mormons for being gay; 2011-2019: took shit from the gays for marrying a woman. It took me until I was 34 years old to figure out just exactly where I fit, and by then I realized the exact label didn’t matter; just don’t call me “gay and in denial” and we can be friends. Maybe the rainbow flag will always trigger me a little (though I understand it means safety and acceptance for many others), but I can stand off to the side with my little panro heart and call that place home.

It is both frightening and emboldening to realize that, as I learn to recognize and accept some of these parts of me, particularly those that fall outside the ideal mold of what “righteous” people are like, I have actually grown closer to God. The condemnation I was so sure would fall upon my head when I was fourteen . . . hasn’t. In fact, I’ve had to ask God’s forgiveness for not trusting Him more.

If you told my ten-years-ago self all the things that would happen between then and now, he probably would say something like, “Don’t talk shit,” because he swore more often than I do, and also because he wouldn’t believe you.  But somehow, one little thought, one epiphany, one prayer in the dark at a time, my life has changed an awful lot in ten years. God has been guiding me the whole time.

When I first started this blog, I wrote:

“Something awoke in me. There is something I need to say that I haven’t been saying.  Something needs to get out.  I don’t yet know what–I prayed about it, but sometimes you have to pray for a while about something like that.

“So for some reason I started a tumblr account at 1:00 a.m. on a Sunday morning and here I am writing about it.  Maybe I’ll figure it out as I write. Maybe that’s what I’m supposed to figure out.  Dammit, I don’t know.”

When I say “something awoke,” I mean an uncontainable longing for something completely unreachable and opaque to me at the time. I didn’t even know what to do about it, other than wait on the Lord’s timing. After finishing the post before this one I realized that I was close to figuring it out. I knew at that point that there was one more post to write in this blog, though I didn’t know what at the time. I guessed there was one other shoe that had to drop before I could call this particular phase of my life complete.

I think I know what the last piece is now: complete honesty and acceptance. Of myself first, so that I can completely, unequivocally stop worrying about myself and do the work I’m supposed to do in this life. I’ve asserted elsewhere on this blog that I’m not special—everyone is here to serve in some way and overcome some thing. I know that acknowledging my flaws and issues isn’t going to magically fix them, but I feel now in a way that I didn’t before that maybe I can confront them and move on. Then of others—I don’t know exactly what, but I know I have work to do in the Church and in my career before I’m done. And for whatever reason, God made me weird, so there must be something unique I can do for others.

So with this final blog post I turn over the page on this chapter of my life, this period of intense growth, knowing the future will probably be at least as intense; I assert, though my hands may tremble, that my life is not an act—I know who I am and what direction I’m headed. That’s about all I know, right now. But it’s a lot. And I have learned through happy experience that it is enough for now.

Here goes nothing.

[walkerismychoice]

For Law and Love - Chapter 14

Book: Desire and Decorum - Modern day AU

Paring: Ernest Sinclaire X MC

Raiting: PG-13

Summary: Anna uses the letters from Ernest to help her get through their month apart and decides to surprise Ernest with letters of her own.

Word Count: 1431

Law and Love Master List  - Catch up here

Day 2:

Anna woke up the morning after her birthday and sat up in bed. She immediately looked over to the stack of letters on her nightstand and couldn't wait to open the second one.

Good Morning Anna,

Yes, I said good morning because if I know you, you'll be opening these letters first thing. I hope you had fun celebrating your birthday last night, but also that you aren’t too hungover. I’m picturing the empty space on your bed right now and wishing I was there waking up next to you like it should have been (except if you are at your dad’s house. I know he likes me, but I’m not sure he’d be cool with that). If you didn’t head there last night, I’m sure you’ll see him today for Sunday dinner, so say hi to him for me please if you don’t mind. 

With Love,

Ernest

P.S. - I know you think I’m a bit paranoid, but I do still think it’s best we don’t make any attempts at communication via phone or electronics. While I highly doubt anyone is going to scour my phone records to check for evidence of a relationship between us, it is better to be safe than sorry.

Anna laid back on her pillows with a smile. There was the L word again, and it was definitely not a mistake. 

Day 3:

Anna groaned as she rolled over and shut off her alarm clock, wanting to keep hitting snooze until the last minute, but then she remembered a new day meant a new letter, and she suddenly felt better about facing the day.

Happy Monday my dear Anna!

I know how you dread Mondays, but I say it’s happy because I’ll get to see you in class today. I’ll try not to get too distracted by the sight of you, but I can’t make any promises. I figure you could put the enclosed gift card to good use for your usual order from Crema Cafe. See you soon!

Love,

Ernest

Anna tucked the gift card into her bag before she headed out the door. While it didn’t completely surprise her, Anna was amazed at Ernest’s attention to detail where she was concerned, knowing that she would most definitely be bringing and extra large coffee to class that day. She grabbed her latte on the way and convinced Annabelle to sit in the second row again behind Luke and Hamid, who were now attending every class due to the change in circumstances. 

Ernest scanned the room and found Anna immediately upon his arrival. She held up her coffee cup and a big grin spread across his face. “Thank you” she mouthed subtly and he gave her a nod. Ernest turned out to be an amazing lecturer. She’d never been more attentive in class in her life, and not just because her boyfriend was speaking, though it didn’t hurt.

-

That night, Anna decided she loved her letters so much, she’d start writing letters to Ernest as well.

Dear Professor Sinclaire (Okay I know you aren't technically a professor but I'm still going to call you that),

I thoroughly enjoyed your lecture today and have never found the topic of business law more interesting. You are a vast improvement over that asshole before you (who shall remain nameless) and you are much more fun to look at too. I know you probably think I'm just saying that because I'm your girlfriend, and you are the most modest guy I know, but you should have heard what the girls behind me in class were saying. Or maybe not because it would probably make you blush, but just know I realize how lucky I am to have you and cannot wait until these 30 days are up.

Love,

Anna

Day 7

My Anna,

One whole week down already. It's Friday which means that not only will I see you in class today, but I will hopefully get to see you at the Legal Aid clinic tomorrow. It's been a full week, and I'm sure to be craving your touch. I know we need to remain discreet and professional, but I'll take whatever I can get. Good luck on the quiz today, but I'm sure you won't need it.

All my love,

Ernest

-

Mr. Sinclaire,

What was that quiz today? I never thought I’d say this, but I kind of want the old guy back. Just kidding, of course, but that was rough. Good thing I know how you think, so I’m sure I did alright. I would like to mention that your eyes looked stunning today with that blue shirt you were wearing. You should wear that color more often. 

I’m so looking forward to seeing you at the clinic tomorrow. Hopefully we can get a little time to sneak away during breaks. I know if Bart has anything to say about it, we will. I think he’s my new best friend.

Love,

Your Anna

Day 8

Good Morning Anna,

I’m sure it will be a good morning because I get to spend the day with you. Even if we don’t get any alone time, just being near you will brighten my day. I know you aren’t otherwise thrilled about getting up so early on a Saturday, so don’t worry about getting up earlier to get coffee on the way. I’ll take care of you.

Love Ernest

As promised, Ernest had Anna's usual coffee order waiting for her when she arrived. It was a really busy day, and they didn't get much time together, but they snuck in little kisses and touches when they could. Ernest ordered food for the two of them and arranged for a picnic style lunch on the floor of the file room for them because it was the only place they could ensure privacy. And of course Bart covered for them and made sure no one needed to access the room during that time. Anna also got the chance to surprise Ernest by giving him the letters she had written throughout the week and she could tell he was truly excited to read them. The day passed all too quickly, but she was thankful for the time they did have.

-

Dear Ernest,

It was amazing to spend time with you today, not only because I got to talk to you, hold you, and kiss you, but because your passion for helping people is inspiring. Seeing the way you treat all your clients as your equals without judgment shows that you really care, and I know you are going to be the best at whichever type of law you choose. Speaking of kissing you, I'm already about to combust every time you touch me, and when I climbed into your lap during lunch I could feel how wound up you are too. I can hardly imagine what it's going to be like st the end of these 30 days, but I can't wait to find out.

Thinking about you always,

Anna

Day 20

Anna, My Love,

Only ten more days until I get to hold you in my arms once and for all and never let go. I assume by this point I’m getting desperate for you, and have become well acquainted with my right hand. I envision myself closing my eyes and imagining it’s you wrapped around me instead, wondering if you’re in bed doing the same as me. Just thinking about it now already has me aching for you.

Love, hugs, and kisses,

Ernest

-

Oh Ernest, 

You don’t even know how bad I want you right now, and your letter from today only made it worse. You are correct that I’ve spent many nights touching myself as I think about you. I’ve also purchased a couple new toys to help get me through, and I’m looking forward to trying them out with you too. We’ve already made it two thirds of the way there, let’s hope this last third flies by.

With Love,

Anna

Day 30

My Favorite Girl, Anna,

We’ve made it! The day is finally here! I hope you haven’t made any plans for the next few days, because I’m taking you back to my place and we’re not leaving my bed until it’s absolutely necessary. I want to see you as soon as possible, so meet me at my office at 5pm. I will have all the grades for the class submitted and then we will be free - no longer student and teacher, just Ernest and Anna.

Can’t wait to see you my Love,

Ernest

[mayquita]

You’re My Best Friend (1/4)

I know, I know, I'm the worst. I should be working on one of my multiple wips, but instead, I have not only decided to write this story but I've turned it into a new wip. This was meant to be a little story, written as a birthday gif for my best virtual friend, Sara, but as usual, I got carried away and the small one-shot has become a multichapter.

Maybe I should wait to post the full story, but I think @saraswans deserves more for her birthday than a simple imageset, so here's at least the first part. (Still, this comes ten days late) As good news, the second part is almost finished, I will post it at the end of the week. The bad news, I don't know when I will be able to finish the rest, but I will try to make it as soon as possible.

(This is unbeta'd, so I apologize in advance for the many mistakes and nonsense)

Summary:  Emma shares her passion for Queen with her best friend Killian, with her son and with the rest of her friends. What will happen when Henry encourages them to participate in a Queen karaoke party? Will Emma (or Killian) finally dare to express her (or his) hidden feelings through the lyrics of a song?

Rating: T — Words count: ~1500 — A03 — Ffnet

Special Queen Karaoke party at The Rabbit Hole.

Don't miss it!

"We have to go, mom!" Henry almost shouted, bouncing excitedly in his seat, while holding the flyer with one hand and putting it right in front of Emma's eyes.

Emma and her son were in Granny's sharing their traditional Sunday brunch with the rest of their friends. Henry had not only gotten flyers for her, but he also was handing out one for each of them, while hastily commenting on ‘ how cool it would be to get on stage and pretend to be Freddie Mercury for once.’

She wasn't surprised that her friends welcomed the news of the event with enthusiasm while humming in approval. In fact, if there was something that her group of friends had in common, it was their passion for Queen, a passion that her twelve-year-old son had also acquired and that had even increased after watching Bohemian Rhapsody, the movie, a few months ago. Since then, Queen's songs played at all hours both in her apartment and in her car.

Emma had even come to almost lose interest sometimes. After hearing the same songs over and over again, it was as if, somehow, Queen's magic had begun to fade, becoming a repetitive background sound. That weird feeling hardly lasted, though. It could always be worse. Henry could be a reggaeton fan or whatever the latest style of music was, Emma reminded herself, wrinkling her nose in disgust and turning up the player's volume even more, letting the lyrics of Don't Stop Me Know drag any vestige of another kind of ‘music.’

"Henry's right, I don't even remember the last time we went out together at night. It will be fun." Of course, Mary Margaret would agree with the plan, both her words and the wide smile that appeared on her face making it evident.

"And my dear granny can babysit Leo and Roland." Ruby added pointing to the smaller children. Leo, David and Mary Margaret's son, was one of the reasons why they had reduced their nights out. The adorable baby was barely eight months old and kept his parents busy and exhausted all the time.

Roland, on the other hand, was Robin's five-year-old son, David's best friend. Robin's wife, Regina, had adopted him shortly after their marriage — his first wife had passed away when Roland was just a baby — and now the three of them formed a cute little family.

Ruby, Emma herself, and her best friend Killian —who wasn't there yet, by the way— remained the only singles in the group. Although all of them had known each other for many years, the new additions made it increasingly difficult for them to relive their wild nights from the past, having to settle for Sunday brunch instead. But at least they managed to meet once a week, without exception. That was something Emma valued more than anything, after so many years living alone, with no one to care about her, or no one to take care of. Until Henry arrived, that's it.

For that reason, the idea of spending a night with friends, without responsibilities while enjoying their favorite music was too tempting to turn it down. The possibility of seeing Killian take the improvised stage to perform some of her favorite songs, even if it was a karaoke version, was a bonus that she could not ignore.

Only when her son started talking again, trying to choose the most appropriate song for each of them, Emma realized that she might not be able to witness the event. She shook away the incipient sense of disappointment with a subtle movement of her head, deciding to act instead as the responsible mother she was (or that she should be at least)

"Sorry, kid, but I'm afraid we're not going to make it."

Henry's head snapped around looking for her, the confusion marked on his face. "We? How's that?"

"You're twelve buddy, which means you're not allowed to be in a bar at night, and since your potential babysitters will be all there, I'm afraid we're going to have to reject the proposal."

A flash of disappointment crossed his face, his brow furrowed while he hurried to whine, "But mom, it's a Queen tribute karaoke! We have to go! We need to go!" His lips drew a dramatic pout as he put his hands together as a sign of prayer. Emma should have imagined that Henry wasn't going to give up so easily. She was about to reply when Ruby got ahead of her.

"I'm sure Granny won't mind watching him, even he can help her with the little ones." She offered while she ruffled Henry's hair in an affectionate gesture.

Before answering, Emma saw out of the corner of her eye how her son pulled out his phone and started typing. A few seconds later, a wide grin blossomed on his face. "Problem solved. Avery has offered to have a sleepover in his house, so mom, don't worry, I may not go, but you're going."

"Where are we going?" Her heart skipped a beat when she heard Killian's voice. Her face turned automatically in the direction of the sound to find her best friend had just arrived. Although his lips drew a soft smile the moment their gazes met, the dark circles under his eyes and some deep lines of expression indicated the tiredness accumulated after having to get up early on Sunday.

She also didn't overlook his deliberate use of the ‘we ’, as if they were part of the same pack. Well, to be honest, where was the lie? Except for sleeping —even they had slept together on some occasions. Just sleep — and working, they did almost everything together. That's what best friends were for, to share the good and not so good moments, right?

He approached their booth, dropping into the seat next to her and letting out a heavy breath.

"You're late. Tough session, I suppose?" Robin asked.

"It has been a bloody nightmare." Killian ignored the disapproving glances that both Regina and Mary Margaret directed at him and continued talking after a short pause. "Anyone remind me why I teach sailing to preteens." Realizing his mistake, Killian addressed Henry immediately. "Don't take it personally, lad, you're much smarter and well educated than all those spoiled brats."

"Teaching sailing is your passion." David reminded him.

"And in your own words, young people assimilate information much better because they have fewer concerns in their minds." Emma quoted. It was true, Killian's passion for the sea and sailing was well known to all of them, as well as his extraordinary patience when he tried to pass on his knowledge to little children.

Most of the young students adored him — and also many of their mothers and some fathers, by the way. — Emma had witnessed several displays of affection and admiration from them. But she better than anyone else knew that sometimes children could be exasperating.

"Okay, okay, I get it." He sighed as leaned even more against the back of the seat. "It's easy to forget it sometimes, especially when two of those little scoundrels decide to get into a fight for any nonsense." Killian dragged a hand down his face and rubbed at the scruff on his jaw as if he wanted to erase the vestiges of the previous altercation. "Anyway, now that the nightmare has finally ended, I prefer to occupy my mind with something more agreeable. So where are we going?"

Henry handed him one of the flyers as he explained. "It's in two weeks from now, and we've all agreed to go."

His face lit up as his eyes fell on the flyer, though he quickly schooled his features, directing a glance at Henry through his narrowed eyes."We?" His gaze drifted for a second to Emma as he arched an eyebrow subtly. She replied with an almost imperceptible shake of her head. One more sign of their unwavering friendship was the ability to understand each other without the need to talk, she thought as a warm sensation spread through her body. "I'm afraid you won't be able to join us this time, my boy."

"Oh, come on, Killian! It's a karaoke party! With Queen songs!"

He was persistent, she would give him that. But he was also behaving in a somewhat manipulative way, trying with Killian since he knew in advance that he had a soft spot for her son. "Nice try, buddy, but don't forget that you already have plans with Avery."

"Fine," He huffed, raising his arms and then dropping them in an over-dramatic gesture. "But since I'm not going to go, at least I'll need graphic proofs of what will happen."

That she could guarantee. She would be in charge of taking pictures and videos, since she wouldn't sing. It didn't matter that Queen was her favorite band, that she would be surrounded by friends or that it would be nothing more than karaoke. No way was she going to get on top of an improvised stage to perform. That wasn't happening.

//

The Henry of this story is a little inspired by my own son, who is also twelve years old and a little obsessed with Queen (just like his mother...)

A tiny teaser from the next chapter: "It's a shame, because there's a song that suits you perfectly."

Thanks for reading :)

[feitclub]

6 - 22 - 2009

in honor of my son’s tenth birthday, here’s the blog entry I wrote on June 22, 2009 after returning from the hospital and collapsing.

If there's one thing movies and television shows have taught me, the birth of a child is the greatest day of a person's life. Sadly, it seems Hollywood is a habitual liar because I felt that the twenty-four hours I spent in a hospital waiting for my son to be born was one of the worst days of my life. Thankfully it all ended well. Mako shook me awake around 2:45AM on Sunday morning, clutching herself and saying "We need to go to the hospital." It would later turn out that she had been in pain for nearly two hours prior to that but she stuck it out and waited to see if it would pass. It never did, so we all threw on our clothes and drove to the hospital I was understandably excited, if a little drowsy. When we arrived I was quite surprised at the lack of initiative from the skeleton crew working the off-hours. Technically speaking, this hospital is "closed" on Sunday but they maintain a side entrance and a small reception desk during these periods. Mako called them before we left so when we arrived, they knew we were coming. That doesn't mean they did anything though. I distinctly remember one man walk past us, acknowledge our presence by simply saying "Ah, Feit-san. Go to the fifth floor." without breaking his stride. You would think a pregnant woman bent over in pain would warrant a wheelchair or some measure of physical assistance, but not here. The fifth floor was a little busier than the ground floor, probably because there's always something going on in the maternity ward. Newborns arrive when they arrive and both they and their mothers require 24-hour care. Still, despite the buzzing of nurses around us most of the lights were off on the floor, so we spent our initial wait in the dark. Eventually Mako got a bed in the "labor room" and we were told that despite the pain, Mako was only dilated three centimeters and she needed to be at ten centimeters before any serious attempt to give birth could be made. When we asked how long that might take, they said "a while." I must try to set the scene here by describing the labor room. There is only one room and all expectant mothers have to share it, apparently. I don't know how many beds were in the room but there was little more than a wall and a curtain to separate Mako's bed from the others. Mako was also located right next to the toilet and near the examination chair, so we were in a fairly high traffic section of a very small room. It was here that we had to wait...and wait...and wait... As noon approached and after repeated claims of "it'll be a bit longer" it was evident that while Mako needed to lie in bed and wait, we didn't all necessarily have to sit next to her until the baby arrived. Mako's mother stayed and encouraged me to go with my father-in-law back to the house and clean up. We were all exhausted, having woken up in the middle of night only to sit and wait for nine hours in the corner of the labor room, so the idea of a shower sounded pretty good. Mako's dad also suggested we have some lunch, which I thought might help me cope with all the stress but it didn't change much. That's how nervous I was: not even eating made me feel better. We went back to the house and I washed up. My father-in-law told me to try and take a nap which was virtually impossible. Despite all the waiting with no end in sight, I was still worried that the baby would arrive at any moment. I laid down and maybe nodded off for forty minutes or so, but I awoke sharply and scared that I had missed the birth. I hadn't, of course, but I wouldn't feel calm until I was back at the hospital and next to Mako. Hours and hours went by, and I spent all of them by Mako's side in the corner of this horrible, horrible room. I'm not going to point any fingers here, because I certainly don't have the intestinal fortitude to endure even a tenth of what a pregnant woman goes though, but everything in this labor room carried a horrible stench. The human body generates a lot of foul smelling byproducts and this room was where they all get discharged. The delivery room (when we finally got there) was even worse, but the labor room's odor and total lack of privacy was miserable. Adding insult to injury was that my only seat was a tiny stool with no back and nothing to lean against. Between Mako's bed, her I.V. and the table where we laid out her belongings, there was barely any space for any visitors to sit by the bed. Eventually I went out again with her father for another meal, but I again spent the entire time thinking only of her. It obviously can't compare to the physical pain a pregnant woman experiences, but to see my wife in such torturous agony all day while she waits and waits was really painful for me. However, the idea of not being with her felt even worse because we had decided together to try and have a baby. Wouldn't leaving her to have the baby without me be a betrayal of our mutual agreement? Speaking of which, one of the worst things about this shared labor room was overhearing all of the other patients. In the next bed over was a woman who had checked in some time before us. At first she was just sleeping but as the evening approached, she went into the delivery room which was within an audible distance. She shrieked and screamed and we eventually heard the baby's first cries. A little while later, a man showed up and was surprised when he found out the baby was already born. This was obviously the father and I never saw him visit her once that day. Where the fuck was this guy that he couldn't attend his own child's birth or even comfort his wife as she struggled? His failure as a father/husband reminded me why I needed to sit next to Mako and just ignore my back pain and exhaustion. Yes, I left twice to eat meals, but I never left her alone and on both occasions I came back within an hour. At no point was Mako without a member of her family on hand. As the sun went down, it occurred to me that Mako had just spent the entirety of the Summer Solstice indoors, waiting for this baby. After about seventeen hours, things started to look like the baby was coming. We were still in the labor room but as her dilation increased, Mako was encouraged to try pushing to speed up the process. While I had spent most of the day just sitting with Mako and occasionally massaging her, it was during these initial pushes that I actually had something important to do. Mako was standing up and hugging me, holding onto me for leverage and squeezing with all her might as she tried to push. It was crazy intense and while it would prove futile (and it hurt like hell), it was the undisputed highlight of Sunday because I felt like I mattered. This is as good a time as any to mention how little attention the hospital staff paid attention to me, which I found deeply insulting. Maybe it's just the culture of Japan to leave the husband out of the birth process, but as I spent my entire Sunday next to my wife trying to console her and assist in the delivery our child, you would think that at one point someone would just start talking to me about something, anything, to acknowledge my constant presence. Instead, I was spoken about but almost never spoken to. The bad news is, I'm pretty sure it was that old-fashioned Japanese racism at work. For those unfamiliar with Japanese racism, I should explain that it's not actually hateful as much as it's clueless and stupid. I'm sure none of the nurses or doctors felt anything was wrong with me, they just never thought to treat me like a human being. Instead, I was treated like a gaijin. They would ask my wife "where is your husband from?" and "does your husband speak Japanese?" instead of just asking me directly. When they needed our signatures on waivers, they would explain everything to her (while I listened) and then look at me and start stammering, mumbling to themselves "oh, how do I explain this since you cannot read?" Under the circumstances I let it all slide but inside I was pretty pissed. But I digress...around ten o'clock we finally entered the delivery room. Mako gave it her all but after spending her entire day in pain on a bed without eating (she had no appetite at all), she found herself unable to push the baby out. They put her through a variety of poses, which means they were trying their best but it felt like they didn't really know what to do. Eventually they said there was a "bump" (こぶ in Japanese) and the baby wasn't moving any closer to the exit. Just after one AM, Mako couldn't push anymore and asked them for a C-section. True story: in Japan they call it an "imperial cut" (帝王切開). They spent almost an hour prepping Mako for surgery and then took her away to the O.R. I was left in the dark (literally) to sit and wait to find out what was going to happen to my family. I was understandably upset by this turn of events. Was there nowhere else I could go? I knew the surgery was routine and carried relatively little risk but that couldn't stop me from worrying about what might happen on the operating table. Let's not forget that it was past two AM and I had been awake for nearly twenty-four straight hours, so I was already a little out of my mind. Being afraid that my wife or my son might not return from the O.R. was terror I didn't need. My son was the first to appear, shortly before three AM. I wanted to be excited and revel in the moment of seeing my first child in the flesh, but all I could think about was Mako who was still absent. I asked the nurse and all she could say was "they're closing her up." While that was meant as a reassurance, I couldn't put her out of mind even as I looked down at my very healthy brand-new baby boy. As you can guess, she eventually turned up, as did her parents who must have been up waiting for my messages. Mako was on a stretcher and couldn't sit up, but she was conscious and able to ask me if I saw the baby. I told I did and that made her smile. For all the hell the two of us had gone through (her more than me, of course), having a baby after nine months of anticipation was a wonderful feeling. I suppose if we were going to go with the surgery in the end we could have saved Mako a great many hours of discomfort by asking sooner, but we had hoped for a natural birth. Ah well, at least now my son can totally kill MacBeth: Tell thee, Feit was from his mother's womb Untimely ripp'd.

[rksungho]

It’s still early in the morning when you’re called into Katie Lee’s office at the Seocho facility. When you enter, you’re greeted by very serious looking men standing along the walls while the CEO stares at you from behind her desk. She gestures to the chair in front of her, and something in the way her eyebrow arches tells you that you shouldn’t make her wait. 

After you’re settled on your seat, the woman carefully studies your expression before beginning. “So,” she holds her gaze right at you. “I hear you’re displeased with your stay at my company.”

She lets her opening statement hang in the air a few seconds for the full effect. “Word around this facility is that you’ve been complaining behind our backs to other trainees. Some… Hwang Inho person has shared his knowledge with his own CEO, who has in turn passed it on to me.” Her lips purse into a thin line. “I suppose you don’t know this, but I really, really hate gossiping.”

“Now, I am a very busy woman and I’m already late for Mnet’s recording, so I will try to make this quick.” She moves an open manila folder across the table in your direction. “This is a mutual party settlement on the termination of your contract with KT Entertainment. If you sign this, your time with us will come to an end effective immediately, and these fine gentlemen will escort you outside.” She makes a brief pause, and her face softens a little. “I understand it’s not easy being a trainee. You may not always fit in; you get homesick; and you constantly second-guess all the choices you’ve made this far. Trust me, I know. I’ve been there myself, once upon many years ago. But I toughened up; I held my ground against all the difficulties because I believed in myself and in my dreams, and now… Well, now I can help make other dreams come true.”

A man politely interrupts the conversation to let Katie Lee know her car has arrived, and she stands up with a nod. “I believe in you, Sungho-ssi. You wouldn’t be here if I didn’t. I can make your dream come true, but for that I’ll need to trust you, and right now I feel betrayed instead. I’ll give you a second chance to reconsider your attitude to this company, and I promise you there won’t be a third.” With a sigh, she picks up a pen, signs her name on the dotted line and then hands it back to you. “If you’re ready to commit yourself to your goals, just let these men know and they’ll file this folder away. Otherwise…”, she glances at the pen one last time, then leaves.

“The choice is yours, Jin Sungho.”

[ Should Sungho decide to stay in the company, the lawyers present in the room will escort him back to practice and instruct all of his trainers to be particularly harsh on him for all of August as punishment for his behaviour. 

Should Sungho sign the agreement and leave KT Ent, he will be immediately removed from the trainee roster and returned to the status of ‘rookie’, and his decision will be filed along with his records in Samsung’s archives for future reference. 

There aren’t any points to be collected for answering this prompt. You have until Sunday, August 11th, midnight EST to post your reply, or Sungho’s choice will be defaulted to leaving KT. ]

the moment he’s called to the office he knows something’s wrong. he’s had these moments before, the second a coach drags him aside or when they were talking about the kt rookies announcement. each time sungho was convinced that this is it, this is the part where they cut me loose, tell me i’m not wanted here. i get it, i’ve been here before. each time his anxieties have been immediately quelled, something different than what he expected being the cause for singling him out if just for a moment.

but this is different. he hasn’t been to this office since he signed a contract. this is wrong.

men in suits confirm his suspicions. this is the end. what had been the final straw? a fight with taemin that had become too loud? had news of his scrap with that royal kid belatedly made it to his ceo’s ears? or was it worse; did jaehyun actually tell someone important what he had seen in the supposedly haunted bathroom over a month ago?

“So,” she holds her gaze right at you. “I hear you’re displeased with your stay at my company.”

she makes it sound like a bad hotel review. a bad stay at her company? sungho doesn’t dare speak yet, his jaw clenched so tightly that it aches already. but he thinks. he thinks of all the times he’s been ostracized by trainees ( how many times he’s fucked himself over with his unlikable personality ), how many times he’s been criticized by coaches and asked to leave the practice room ( how many times he’s worked until he’s felt sick, and then worked through that, through literal blood, sweat and tears ). the literal bones he’s broken since signing her contract. a bad stay? what an understatement.

She lets her opening statement hang in the air a few seconds for the full effect. “Word around this facility is that you’ve been complaining behind our backs to other trainees. Some… Hwang Inho person has shared his knowledge with his own CEO, who has in turn passed it on to me.” Her lips purse into a thin line. “I suppose you don’t know this, but I really, really hate gossiping.”

sungho’s blood runs cold and the tightness of his jaw is joined by a tight grip of both hands. fists curl, fingernails dig into the soft flesh of his palms as he tries to keep his cool. inho had said something. to his ceo. hwang inho marched up to tiger jk’s office and told him that sungho’s unhappy at kt entertainment. the worst part is sungho can’t even doubt it. he sees it so clearly in his mind, that annoying confident saunter and that self-important air as he tells secrets that sungho had whispered in strict confidence.

this is what he gets for trusting someone with too much. he should have known better than to give someone his dreams, even the foolish ones, alongside his heart. his thumb presses over a ring on his finger, a birthday gift he had treasured at the time of its giving, as he fights the urge to rip it off and shove it in a pocket right now.

he still can’t speak as she explains the contract in front of him. he’s seen it before. he knows this part. he can’t talk around the lump in his throat, the memories of a younger self, hardly more than a child, being told very seriously how he had no place in the company anymore. he feels the aches and pains from then all over again, the bruises from a fight where he had won a battle and lost much more than a war. in a moment he’s nineteen again and regretting every decision, every well-meaning action that had lead up to his ultimate demise. it’s his worst nightmare come back again as it has many times in dreams. but this time he can’t wake up.

“I understand it’s not easy being a trainee. You may not always fit in; you get homesick; and you constantly second-guess all the choices you’ve made this far. Trust me, I know. I’ve been there myself, once upon many years ago. But I toughened up; I held my ground against all the difficulties because I believed in myself and in my dreams, and now… Well, now I can help make other dreams come true.”

how could she understand? doesn’t she know what he’s been through once already? does she know the way he feels other trainees’ eyes on him, the snide remarks and the pointed way they don’t approach him? yeah, he’s a dick. he tried not to be so unlikable when he came here, he tried to be the perfect little puppet for the company to mold into an idol. nothing had worked. here he is, after a year and a little extra of trying, being told to get out again.

but hadn’t he wanted this?

hadn’t the intention always been to finish out his contract and reject another from kt should it be offered? hadn’t he wanted to get away from the pink and taemin and the children and everything else he can’t stand about this place? this is an escape as much as it is a punishment. he could be freed, but at what cost?

he doesn’t mean to but he thinks of taemin. he thinks of how every fucking time he’s snapped, he’s yelled, he’s threatened violence against someone or something he’s been there. he’s been god damn awful to taemin, but he’s never given up on him. he doesn’t know why he thinks of it. sungho will deny ever having the moment of consideration later.

“I believe in you, Sungho-ssi.”

“can i have time to think about it?” the words are out of his lips before he can stop them. perhaps not the wisest thing he could have said, but it’s there. one of the suits shakes his head, telling him he has ten minutes to reach a decision. sungho can feel the sweat on his palms, cold. no phoning a friend or anything here.

he doesn’t reach for the pen immediately. he doesn’t so much as move. she said she believed in him. despite it all. despite how he’s given her literally no reason to so much as like him. after all the problems he’s caused, all the displeasure he’s made evident. why? he doesn’t understand. his own mother hasn’t put this sort of faith in him.

the plastic of the pen is cold in his hand when he picks it up, just holds it without going anywhere near the line he’d have to sign. he skims the words. if he signs this he doesn’t owe them anything, right? no debt to pay back, just an offer of freedom.

katie lee would be disappointed if he signed this. oh well, she’s already disappointed in me. would the other trainees be happy to see him gone? maybe. maybe relieved.

sungho can feel the minutes ticking by as he deliberates. they’re long, and too fast at the same time. he needs more time. how is he supposed to make this decision on the spot? he glances at the clock. he has three minutes. for just a moment he lets himself wonder how this would play out.

if he signs the contract, he gathers his things and leaves immediately. he goes home to an empty apartment. what does he do then? start searching for a job? beg his boss for his old spot back? sit at home and do nothing while inho goes to and from trc every day? sungho doesn’t like that idea much. he lowers the pen away from the document.

if he doesn’t sign, he goes back into a practice room. rumors spread, inevitably. trainees always talk. but how is that any different from before? sungho has endured it this long.

he drops the pen.

“i’m not leaving.”

a minute to spare.

[h4rr3h]

ohio is for lovers, chapter two harry and evan and everyone else

“You look like someone punched you in the vagina.”

“Thanks, Niall.” Harry snaps.

Sunday, March 25, 2018

The Mission House, Green Room

169 Bleecker Street, New York, NY

“You look like someone punched you in the vagina.”

 “Thanks, Niall.” Harry snaps.

 He shrugs and sit next to Harry in the backstage green room of the Mission House.

 “But himmmm?” Harry whines, for like, the fortieth time.

 It takes Niall five deep breaths to choke down what he wishes he could say to Harry and comes up with a rare supportive comment, “for what it’s worth I don’t see her going through with it.”

 “What makes you think that?” Louis interjects, “he’s literally one of the nicest people I’ve met, he’s going to be a doctor for Christ’s sake. He drives an Audi A5 Coupe, he volunteers at the animal shelters -”

 “Oh I’m sorry I wasn’t aware you had a crush on him,” Harry snips as Niall faux snores.

 Louis scoffs, “whatever man, she’d be stupid not to. Out of all of us, he’s the only one who actually has his shit together.”

 He wasn’t wrong.

 “Anyways,” Harry starts, “I think tonight is a good night to play the new song.”

 Niall raises an eyebrow, “you’re like four beers in, I don’t think you’re ready to play anything new in your state, Mate.”

 “You forgot the two tequila shots,” Louis reminds.

 Harry’s hazy, and completely drunk. He always plays better a little buzzed, he was more daring, and a little less uptight. But completely fucking blitzed? Well this is uncharted territory.

 “I think it’ll be fine,” he slurs.

 The longer he stands upright the more the room starts to spin. He swears he didn’t feel this drunk five minutes ago. It doesn’t help that he hasn’t eaten since this morning’s pancakes at ten o’clock.  

 Evan is fucking engaged to the Valium. In some ways he could believe it and in some ways he couldn’t. Louis was unfortunately right. On paper, the dude was perfect. He’d checked off all of Evan’s boxes long ago and what was even worse was that they had history. They dated on and off throughout high school and after a year apart their freshman year of college, they’d been inseparable ever since. Sure, Harry had Jordan. And he did love her in a way. What way that was, he wasn’t quite sure of yet. He couldn’t help but feel something was missing between him and Evan; some vital ‘aha!’ moment that was just six years too late in hitting her. That someday she’d wake up and feel the same way he did.

 Now, to be clear, Harry is not lovesick. It ebbs and flows inside of him. He’d go weeks, even a month or two without having that tugging ache on his heart of wanting what he couldn’t have. Then he’d have a few beers and whine to the boys about it and have a shag or twelve with Jordan to set himself straight again. Before anything, Evan was his best friend. Besides Louis, of course. He cherished her friendship above everything and it made him feel sick every time he wanted her in that way.

 “We’re not doing anything new tonight,” Louis reasons, “now let’s get some water and carbohydrates into you before you get up there and blow chunks, alright?”

 “Did someone say carbohydrates?” Evan chimes from the doorway, wielding two large platters of food.

 “Alright, we’ve got...mozzarella sticks and potato skins, take your pick -”

 Harry dives in the second the platters hit the table, shoveling food into his mouth, “thanks Ev.”

 Evan tilts her head towards the door, Niall and Louis catch on but Harry is too busy stuffing his face to see her subtly kicking the other boys out of the room. She shuts the door behind them when they walk out.

 “You alright?” She asks when Harry finally comes up for air.

 Harry feigns confusion, “yeah? Why wouldn’t I be?”

 Evan puts her hand on her hip and gives him the look, the one she gives every so often when she sees through his bullshit, and Harry knows it.

 “Well for starters, you’re drunk. You never get drunk before a gig.”

 “Nerves,” he replies, shoving a whole mozzarella stick in his mouth.

 She rolls her eyes and takes another step closer to him. Evan reaches out, holding his face between her palms, “I know you, you’re upset over something. You can’t lie to me. I always call you on your bullshit.”

 She looked at him and it was like that first night when they met when could have have kissed her the first time and maybe then they wouldn’t be in this mess. He’d perfected resisting the urge over the years as the fates had presented him many opportunities. Her eyes were watery like they were when she was holding back from crying, he’d seen it time and time again, and he hated himself for bringing her an ounce of pain like that.

 “I’m just going to miss you, is all,” Harry manages.

 Evan pulls him in, wrapping her arms around his middle. Harry’s resistant at first, he’s drunk and daring and feeling all too many emotions at once. He can’t say anything, and just stands there holding his arms loosely around her.

 “I’m not going anywhere. I already told Huck I’m not moving until after the wedding. You still have me.”

 If only he did, he thinks.

 Still held in an embrace, he could feel the wetness of Evan’s tears seeping through the fabric of his shirt when she pushes her face into the crook of his neck. For as long as he’d known Evan Bosco, he’d only seen her actually cry twice; once, when their cat Gretchen died, and the second, at the end of Titanic. Evan was an level headed person; logical. She wasn’t directed by emotions or feelings, she was precise in her actions and in her life and well, if she thought marrying Jacob-fucking-Huckabee was a good idea, then it probably was.

 “Are you just sure you’re ready for your last name to be Huckabee?” Harry mumbles into her ear, his chest vibrating with a quick chuckle.

 Evan snorts and gives him one last squeeze before letting go. She wipes her eyes and sniffs, trying to hide her tear streaked cheeks.

 “You should probably get out there, everyone’s waiting for you.”

 Harry shrugs, “they can wait, you’re more important.”

 Evan approaches him again, sliding her hand to the back of his head, twisting the short curls at the nape of his neck between her fingers. She lets her thumb slide against his cheek  and jaw and bottom lip and Harry thinks for a second that she may actually kiss him. His heart is racing so loud he’s damn well sure she can hear it loud and clear. He notes something in her eyes, is it hesitation? You goddamn wish, he thinks.

 Stupid girl. Can you feel it? Can you feel it?

  Evan sits around the booth with the rest of the gang, minus the three bandmates. They’ve crammed themselves into their usual spot. Sharna’s elbow is digging into her hip while Huck’s arm is wrapped protectively around her middle. Polly and Jordan are bickering over who’s more politically correct on this week’s latest cause. There’s more space now than there will be later when the eight of them are stuffed into the U-shaped booth that hugs the bar table. Empties already line the far edge of the table’s surface and there’s a mix of half watered down drinks and shot glasses in clusters that clang every time someone bumps the table.

 Huck is drunk and grabby. He’s subtle, though. He’ll press a kiss below an ear and then into the smallest exposed part of collar bone. His hands will dive between Evan’s thighs and gently squeeze; ‘just warming my hands’, he’ll say. His breath smells like the three whisky sours he’s downed in the last hour and a half. Glassy eyed, Huck whispers in Evan’s ear, sending a shiver down her spine, “you excited?” He asks, toying with the ring on her left hand.

 She smiles, “yeah,” comes out in barely a whisper.

 Evan plants a kiss on his jawline, and wiggles out of his grip, “I’m gonna go get some food for the boys backstage, I’ll be back in a jiff,” she says before giving him another peck on the cheek.

 She orders Harry’s two favorite bar foods; mozzarella sticks and potato skins. Jojo behind the counter adds it to the gang’s running tab that they’ve had since Evan’s twenty-first birthday nearly four years ago. She shutters to think of what the total of it is, but wipes it easily from her mind. She looks down at her hand and watches the diamond on her ring finger twinkle under the dim bar lighting.

 “Damn, girl!” Jojo reaches across the bar and grabs Evan’s hand. “Huckabee splurged. Congrats!”

 Evan grins, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes, “thanks!”

 “If you need anyone to bartend the wedding, I’m your girl,” she winks, “don’t even have to pay me. Just make sure Huckleberry has some hot groomsmen for me to feast on.”

 “I’ll see if he’s got any hot med school friends for you,” Evan teases.

 “Looooord almighty, a doctah?” Jojo emphasizes her southern twang and starts fanning herself with a stack of paper napkins.

 Evan clutches her stomach laughing, an annoyed patron at the other end of the counter bangs on its mahogany top for Jojo’s attention, “sorry, have to take care of the createns,” she mutters under her breath, and within a half second musters up a cheesy customer service smile, “what can I get for you, darlin’?”

 She can’t help but feel the ring on her finger weigh her down like a dead weight. Evan blames it on the sensation of having something new (and a very heavy something, at that) on a finger that had previously been bare for twenty four years. She twists the metal back and forth, occupying herself by watching people in the packed bar. People watching was a common pastime of hers. She longed to understand the meaning of people and why they do what they do and why they don’t do what they don’t do. As Niall would always tell her ‘it’s just not that deep, Mate’ but she liked to think that human existence could be boiled down to more than just wants and needs.

 The bar always seemed hazy with the strings of  globe bulb lights that lined the ceiling in perfect tight zig-zags. Evan liked the dim lighting because it hid her bar burn when she would drink a little too much. It also made you feel a certain way; warm, happy, like nothing could hurt you here because everything and everyone glowed and things that glowed couldn’t hurt you.

 “Food’s done!” Jojo drops the two platters onto the bartop, snapping Evan out of her momentary daydream.

 “Thanks Jo! Have a round with us if you can?”

 She glares to the line of people waiting, “I don’t think tonight’s the night, but enjoy one for me,” she winks.

 The walk from the bar counter to the sorry excuse for the Mission House’s green room is short. In reality the green room used to be a freezer, but when the place nearly burned down ten years ago the owners converted it into a green room for local bands they hired to play. Harry, Louis and Niall were the top bill on Sunday nights. They had a small following with their band and Evan knew Harry wished he could do more with it than he was. He by no means had the dreams of becoming a rock star of any sort, but anything was better than teaching third graders how to play Hot Cross Buns on the recorder.

 “Did someone say carbohydrates?” She rings, displaying the trays in her hand, “alright we’ve got mozzarella sticks, potato skins, take your pick -”

 Harry lands face first into the platters before she’s had a second to finish. He’s drunk, she knows that at the very least but she wants to know why. He takes gigs much too seriously to get drunk. She spots at least four empty beer bottles while Louis and Niall are still nursing their first. She catches a glance at his bloodshot eyes when he mumbles a ‘thanks Ev’ at her.

 With a nudge of her head, the other boys take her hint and leave her to it with Harry. She knows he’d lie through his teeth to the boys about what was going on in his head but he never could get a damn thing past Evan, and she knew that very well.

 “You alright?” She asks gently.

 There’s a flicker of something in his eyes, “yeah? Why wouldn’t I be?”

 Evan puts a hand on her hip and fixates her eyes on his, locking with them for a second and giving an empathetic sigh, “well for starters, you’re drunk. You never get drunk before a gig.”

 He breaks the eye contact. “Nerves,” he says while gulping down another deep fried piece of cheese.

 Evan knows what she’s doing well. Harry wears his heart on his sleeve and it’s never too hard to tell when he’s upset about something. When she rolls her eyes at him, she makes sure to do it nice and slowly so he can see. She closes the space between them in a single step and reaches out, forcing his face between her palms, “I know you, you’re upset over something. You can’t lie to me. I always call you on your bullshit.”

 He gives her a look she hasn’t seen him give in a very, very long time. On the night they met, in fact. It happens so quick she thinks she may have been making it up in her head. Whatever it was, Evan can’t quite place it. Tears start to form in the corners of her eyes. While marrying Huck meant spending the rest of her life with the man she loved, she couldn’t help but feel her heart break when that same notion also meant leaving behind the other man she loved.

 “I’m just going to miss you, is all,” he mutters.

 Evan tugs on his shirt to pull him into her. She can feel every muscle in his body tense up when they touch, as if he’s holding something back from her. Her arms slither under his and she hugs him so tight she’s worried he’ll puke up all the greasy bar food he’s just shoved down his throat at warp speed. Harry doesn’t budge, and his arms lay loosely around her form.

 “I’m not going anywhere. I already told Huck I’m not moving until after the wedding. You still have me.”

 Forever and ever and ever and ever, she thinks.

 Evan presses her face into his shoulder and lets herself cry into him. She prays he can’t feel her body shake against him as she lets out the silent sobs. Evan wasn’t much of a cryer, but when she did…

 “Are you just sure you’re ready for your last name to Huckabee?” Harry’s chuckle tickles her, and his voice is so light and fragile in a way she’s never heard before.

 She snorts, welcoming the lightheartedness and gives Harry one last hug before finally letting go. She wipes her eyes and cheeks with the back of her hand and sniffs away the saltiness, “you should probably get out there, everyone’s waiting for you.”

 “They can wait, you’re more important.”

 It’s like all the air’s been sucked out of the room and Evan pauses for a half moment before coming back to Harry. She slides her hands behind his head and toys with the slop of curls that lie there, twirling them around her index finger, that damn ring weighing her down. Evan’s hands slide to the sides of his face, grazing her thumb across his cheek, tracing the sharpness of his clenched jaw, and finally a swipe to his bottom lip.

 Stupid boy. Can you feel it? Can you feel it?

  The gig is great as usual. Despite Harry being drunker than a skunk, the boys managed to pull off one hell of a show and Harry at least had the decency to start puking after they were finished.

 “Water and bread for you, buddy.” Louis pats his back.

 Harry is about a half step away from unconsciousness, his face buried in the crook of his arm that is spread across the table. Jordan is leaning on him, not too far behind in her state. Evan mentally prepares herself for having to listen to that all night long, neither of them were very...quiet, so to speak. Everyone is drunk and happy again and the moment in the green room is long gone from Harry and Evan’s minds.

 At least for the time being.

 “Hey did you invite your dad tonight?” Sharna slurs, “nope, wait. I’mma text him.”

 She struggles like a child to unlock her phone and whines, dropping it to the table when it doesn’t work.

 “Can you please not get that excited over my father? It’s gross.”

 “Your dad is a fucking DILF and you know it,” her friend pips, sipping from the little black straw in her AMF.

 Evan gags, “shut the fuck upppppp,” she groans, covering her ears.

 The rest of the table is laughing hysterically, except Niall. This pisses Sharna off. She’s funny. What she said was funny. Everyone should be laughing.

 Niall never laughs at Sharna’s jokes. She should know this by now.

 “So Niall, how’s the novel coming?” She asks with a touch of poison in her voice.

 “It’s great,” he starts, “I’ve already killed your character off.”

 Sharna responds with a middle finger while she sucks up the last of her drink, the straw making a slurping sound as it struggles against the ice to get the last bit of liquid in the bottom of her empty glass.

 Polly is asleep leaned up against Louis. Evan can hear her little snores and see the tiny pool of drool collecting on her boyfriend’s shirt. He gulps the last of his pint  before patting her on the cheek lightly to wake her up. Polly grumbles and curls herself into him more, “up and at ‘em Little One. You’ve got class bright and early and I have to be up in four hours to make some macchiatos for overworked White Collars.”

 She groans and finally obliges and manages to stand up long enough to jump on Louis’ back. They both wave as they head for the door. Evan chuckles as she watches them leave and turns to give Huck a little peck on the neck.

 “I love you,” he whispers low enough for just the table to hear, “I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”

 He’s drunk and kind of going cross eyed when he says it, but Evan knows it’s sincere, “I love you too,” she responds, and gives him a solid kiss on the lips.

 The bile in Harry’s throat threatens round two.

 “I think it’s time for us to go,” Harry mentions, “you coming home tonight?” He motions to Evan.

 Huck is glassy eyed and she knows he’ll pass out the second he hits the sack, take up half the mattress, and not move until morning. She was already feeling the effects of a hangover, and didn’t feel like adding no sleep to that menu.

 “Yeah, I’ll get this one a cab home and meet you back at the apartment.”

 She nudges her fiance and he slowly and sloppily slides his way out of the booth, hanging onto Evan for dear life. Or in this case, for his balance, and the two stumble to the sidewalk where she hails him a cab with the snap of her fingers. With the help of the taxi driver, and a hefty tip, she sees him off and starts the very short walk back to the apartment.

 The air is chilly but not freezing. Her bare legs prick with tiny goosebumps from her ankles to her thighs and she can’t help but think about Harry and what happened before the gig. They have these moments, every now and again, seconds between moments where she thinks things may be different, where one of them would actually have the gaul to say how they really feel. But things like that don’t happen for people like Evan Bosco. So she settles for marrying the brain surgeon and hopes one day she’ll get over that missing piece in her chest.

 Meanwhile, Harry stays inside with Jordan, who at this point, is totally asleep.  He gently nurses two more shots and a Rum and Coke before ordering an Uber for his girlfriend. She’ll end up waking up at 6am puking her brains out and he didn’t feel like spending his morning holding back her hair. Harry wanted to go home and drink until he couldn’t remember his name and try and forget this day ever happened.

 Apartment 11A is dark by the time Harry reaches the door. He looks around for signs of Evan, and sees her boots tipped over on the mat next to the entry and a half drank glass of water on the kitchen counter. He stumbles to the bar cart awkwardly shoved in a small corner of the kitchen and pulls out the fullest bottle of alcohol there is (which happens to be tequila) and brings it to bed with him.

 Monday, March 26, 2018

185 Bleecker Street, Apartment 11A, New York, NY

 It’s no surprise when Harry wakes up with a blinding headache. It’s already half past ten, which means he’s missed his first lesson at work. He makes up a half assed apology via text to his boss and lies about an aunt who passed away, then rolls back over for another hour or two until he’s woken up by Evan’s hurling noises.

 Down the hall in their shared bathroom, Evan pukes out the contents of last night’s celebrations. She may have helped herself to a half bottle of wine when she’d gotten home, tempted by it sitting on the counter when she tried to responsibly chug a glass of water and an aspirin before going to bed. She hears Harry’s footsteps coming up the hallway when another bout of vomit spills out of her.

“Don’t come in here,” she moans, her voice broken and hoarse, “I’m disgusting.”

 “I got you a glass of water!” He reasons.

 “....Fine.”

 Harry opens the door and walks slowly into the bathroom. Not for her sake, but for his, the slower he moves, the less dizzy his hangover makes him feel.

 Evan snaches the glass from his hand and gulps it down, “thanks,” she says, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, “why aren’t you at work?”

 “Called out,” he replies, taking the glass back and a sip for himself, “why aren’t you at work?”

 She glares, “called out.”

 Harry lets out a breathy laugh, “c’mon, I’ll make you a bacon, egg and cheese sandwich on a bagel.”

 Evan clutches her chest dramatically, “music to my ears!”

 Despite that one time he set the stove on fire, Harry was actually a halfway decent cook (at least in his mind). The two ate their breakfasts at the table with two cups of coffee each, respectively. Neither wanted to bring up their talk last night. They’d both felt it, that second between a moment when they feel brave, as if they could break through some sort of invisible wall of bullshit that the both of them put up and finally break it down.

 Harry, mostly for the sake of his hangover, didn’t want to bring it up for a variety of reasons. He was clearly drunk, as Evan already knew at that point, and hoped that would be enough to keep her quiet. Pride was another, for obvious reasons. But she’d pulled him in first and she cried. He looked to his shoulder for a moment and saw the black smudge of her mascara still on his shirt. It was all too much for him to think about at this hour with this bad of a headache. He wanted to finish his meal and crawl back into bed and sleep for about another week straight.

 Did she feel it too? He thinks. Probably not because she’s still got the ring on her finger and he watches her play with it over and over again like she’s adjusting a fucking noose around her neck while they talk about today’s weather and how winter seems to be finally over. She couldn’t have felt it too, Evan’s a bold woman, she goes for things that she wants and if she had wanted Harry in that second then she would have wanted him in all the other seconds too. And he can’t wait for the day he can finally wake up in the morning and not have Evan Bosco on his mind.

 He felt nothing, not a damn thing, she thinks as she takes the last bite of her breakfast sandwich. Also, she thinks that her ring is too loose because it slides too easily between her knuckle and the middle joint in her finger. Was it this heavy on her hand last night too? She felt the cold metal slip again as she balls up the napkin and tosses it on her plate. Evan’s lucky if she’s had at least two hours of sleep from the night. She knew she shouldn’t have mixed the red wine with liquor from the bar but desperate times call for desperate measures.

 “So what are you up to today?” Harry asks.

 “Well, I have an article due by the end of the day tomorrow, but I think I’ll check in with my dad and see if he wants to go out for dinner or something. I haven’t seen him in a couple weeks.”

 As the Millennial Voice column expert in her father’s travel magazine, Evan was tasked with writing a monthly column on the hot spots in different cities that twenty-somethings would enjoy. But, due to the lack of budgeting, this usually just consisted of Google research rather than actual travel.

 “I miss Papa Bosco. I haven’t heard any of his -ism’s lately,” Harry chuckles.

 Evan Bosco Sr., who not only was fluent in Klingon, was also a walking, talking fortune cookie of life advise. Most of which he had taken out on his daughter’s friends, “oh I’m sure he’ll have plenty saved up for you next time you see him.”

 “I love a man who can make me cry about my life choices,” Harry smirks.

 Evan rolls her eyes, “or lack thereof. Any big plans for you today?” She asks.

 He shrugs, “I’ll probably just loaf around and eat my weight in Chinese food, maybe jerk off in the shower - “

 “You’re deplorable,” Evan snides, tossing her crumpled napkin at him.

 Harry sips his coffee, feeling the chip on the edge of his monogrammed mug slice the soft flesh of his inner lip. He winces a bit, and licks off the blood.

 Monday, March 26, 2018

987 Amsterdam Ave, Apartment 5B, New York, NY

 Evan busies herself with unpacking the bags of groceries she’d collected for tonight’s dinner. Her father wasn’t home yet, and she was sure due to the large amounts of missed calls and texts that he’d have a lecture waiting for her. Almost twenty-five years old and Evan was still subjected to her father’s lectures. She knows he did it out of love, but sometimes, she just wished he’d let her fuck up without there having to be a lesson about it afterwards.

 More often these days, Evan found herself missing their old apartment. It was modest, for the city. The walls were white and covered in exposed brick and held framed photos of maps and photography of all the places they’d explored together. It was a little cleaner, with Evan gone. No empty glasses left on the coffee table, just to the bottom left of the coaster, leaving yet another ring in the table’s surface. And no matter how many times Evan Sr. had to yell at his daughter about it, she never learned.

 She missed the smell of the bakery across the street wafting through their windows in the morning, making the entire place smell like warm, buttery croissants. She missed their neighbors across the hall with their hyperactive Yorkie, Chico, who never seemed to stop yipping. Hell, Evan even missed the way her socks always slid against the hardwood floors and she’d bust her ass every so often when she would pivit just right. She felt as if she had a semi permanent bruise on her hip from falling over the years.

 But most of all, she missed coming home to her father. Who, despite still having social anxiety at age forty eight and mumbled more than he actually spoke, was the most loving creature on the face of the planet. She checks the time, there’s still about another ten minutes before he would be walking in the front door, tossing his messenger bag on the floor, and reaching into the fridge for a beer. Just one, though. Always one.

 Throughout their time travelling during her childhood, Evan found out that the greatest thing about it weren’t the sights, or the culture, or the tourist traps. It was the food. Between the two of them, they’d created what they dubbed “The Holy Grail” of recipes from their travels. Transcribed into a notebook with crunchy pages and stuck together with food splatter,  shoved into the cabinet above the fridge, Evan knew she could make any meal in this book and immediately be back on her father’s good side.

 Tonight it was Paella, the recipe was given to them by the Chef of a little hole in the wall place in València. It was her father’s absolute favorite meal and he swore he could never get it just right like Evan could.

 “Surprise!” Evan declares as her father walks in the door, both confused but also relieved to see his daughter.

 Evan Bosco Sr. drops his bag at the door and slides past his daughter to stalk into the kitchen for his one beer, “you weren’t at work today,” he mutters.

 “Yes...well...it’s been an interesting twenty four hours. Plus I slept in and -”

 It takes her father approximately three and a half seconds to recognize the symptoms and before she can finish her  sentence, he interjects, “you’re hungover.”

 Her father cracks a smile, probably the first one all day. Evan Sr. wouldn’t say that he hated his job, he just hated how draining it was, and sometimes it took smelling Paella cooking in the kitchen to bring you back down to Earth again.

 “I am, but,” Evan holds up her left hand to show off the ring, “I’m also engaged.”

 Evan Sr. presses his lips together and tilts his head to the left. He gulps once before processing the diamond on her finger, “I’m happy for you, sweetheart.”

 Evan recognizes that look on her father’s face. It was the same one he had when she came home from school one time in seventh grade and told him it was now her life’s dream to drop out of middle school and join the Peace Corps. It was first a flash of confusion, followed up by mild disgust and then finished off with the sudden realization that he had to pretend to support his only daughter in a terrible decision.

 “Are you?” She quizzes.

 Evan Sr. nods, “sure am! Just been a long day.”

 He takes a long swig of his beer and places it onto the counter with a shaky hand. The green bottle double clinks onto the counter.

 “How’s Harry taking it?” He asked, stirring the simmering food in the pan.

 Evan grabs the wooden spoon from his hand, “fine, why?”

 Her father takes another choking gulp of his beer. He’s halfway done in just the two gulps he’s taken so far.

 “Just curious,” he pips, putting an arm around his daughter’s shoulders, “he is losing his best friend, after all.”

 Evan Bosco Sr. of Columbus, Ohio wanted nothing more than for his only daughter to marry the man of her dreams. Evan Sr. knew that Jacob Huckabee was not going to be this man. He knew this for a while, and while he always wanted to support his daughter in her decisions, couldn’t help but feel slighted by the latest development in her relationship status. Slighted, not only because had Jacob not considered his fiancee's father’s opinion in the matter of their union, but also because he was the most absolutely boring person on the face the the planet. This, all coming from a man who studied the courtship rituals of insect mating in college.

 For fun.

 “What is the male obsession with thinking they’re going to lose someone who gets married?!” Evan groans, “I’m not going anywhere.”

 “I know,” he pats her on the back, “it’ll just be an adjustment for him. I’m sure he’s going to have to find a new roommate.”

 “Why don’t the two of you move in together since you’re like, so obsessed with each other,” Evan rolls her eyes.

 Her father grins, “Harry will always have a place in this household.”

 “Yeah,” she scoffs, “I swear if you had it your way I’d be marrying him,”

 It felt a little too toxic to say and her father bit his tongue and fought back what he wanted to say. Recalling a time not all that long ago, when Harry was in a vulnerable state and confessed all that he felt for Evan Sr.’s daughter and he let himself reflect for a moment to a time in his life when he knew what it felt like to be absolutely helpless in love with someone.

 Being a single father was not the life that Evan Bosco Sr. had planned for himself. He’d met his forever girl (or so he’d imagined) at age eighteen. They had dreamed of a life together traveling the world with each other. However, Elizabeth Highwater, or Just Lizzie, as Evan Sr. had called her through their nine year courtship, had never wanted children. So after a few years of marriage and a few spins around the globe Evan Sr. had suggested settling down somewhere and starting a family. It was six months after that conversation that Lizzie had found herself pregnant with a child she didn’t really want. She stuck around at first, playing doting wife and mother. But there had been a new man that offered her an out and a new life, the life a Highwater was expected to have. And all of this did not involve being the wife of Evan Bosco Sr.

 So she left. One day on a chilly November night with nothing more than a packed suitcase and a note left behind to her husband and only daughter. Evan Sr. lied to his daughter about her mother’s whereabouts until age twenty-three, twenty years after she’d left. He had told her that her mother was really a mermaid, and that she had to go back to the ocean for a little while, but she’d eventually be back. It seemed stupid, but in a way it helped him heal as well.

 But Elizabeth Highwater did not come back. At least not until her new husband had called Evan up a year or so ago to tell her that her mother had died. Evan remembers feeling a whole lot of nothing and then a whole lot of something seemingly all at once. She always harbored resentment for the woman like an anchor inside of her. She hated her mother for leaving her, and even more for breaking her father’s heart. She saw it it in the crinkles in the corners of his eyes and in the way the world seemed to always rest on his shoulders.

 Evan had flown out to her parent’s hometown of Columbus, Ohio and met her step father for the first time and saw the house they’d lived in together and the evidence of her mother’s life without her child over the last twenty years. It was a good life, by the looks of it; big house but not too big, nice car, a boat trailered in the backyard. Evan’s time in Ohio had been summed up by something that Niall had dubbed the “Ohio Incident”.

 But we’ll get to that later.

 “As long as you’re happy, Pumpkin, so am I.”

 Evan Sr. feigns a smile, pressing his lips together so tightly they turn white.

 She takes a step closer to her father and places a single hand on his shoulder, “dad, you’re a terrible liar.”

 He raises a brow and finishes off his beer before walking away into the living room.

 Evan paces around the kitchen, occupying herself with setting their places at the kitchen island that took the place of a dining room table. She pours a glass of the wine she had brought over and sits on the counter while the last of their dinner cooks.

 Why did he seem surprised? She thinks to herself. Aren’t boyfriend’s supposed to ask permission from the father of their girlfriend for their hand in marriage? Perhaps she’s thinking too much about it. Perhaps Huck had mentioned it in passing and her father had forgotten, or chosen to forget about it. Huck knew how close Evan was to her father, he wouldn’t overlook such a tradition.

 Would he?

 Monday, March 26, 2018

185 Bleecker Street, Apartment 11A, New York, NY

 “Jordan for the last time I’m not going to your fucking parent’s house for the weekend! I have too much to do here. Just please drop it,” Harry throws himself onto the couch while his girlfriend stomps around the edges of the living room, circling him like prey.

 They’d gotten into another argument, shocker, at first in the early afternoon when Jordan had called Harry complaining as to why he didn’t spend the night with her, nursing her through her vomit inducing hangover. By the time she’d laid it all into him it was half past five and he was starting to get hungry. Knowing Evan would be at her father’s, he invited her over to order some take away and could maybe make out with her. If for, at the very least, to get her to shut the fuck up.

 “I just don’t understand you! One second you’re here and the next I feel like you’re on the other side of the world. I can’t keep doing this - “

 “Stop, stop, stop.”

 Harry leaps up and puts a palm over Jordan’s mouth, “for the love of God, stop complicating things. I just really don’t have the time to go upstate this weekend!”

 He removes his hand slowly.

 “It’s much more than that, Harry,” there’s a flicker in her wet eyes. She’s about to cry. Shit. “I can’t do this right now. I think we need to have some time apart, And I’m not talking our usual time apart. I’m thinking this may have to be permanent.”

 She sits on the edge of the couch and Harry follows. She wipes just below her right eye with the back of her hand and sniffs, “I see all these happy couples and I always wonder why we can’t be them. I know you just think I’m a brat that nags at you all the time,” she’s crying more now and Harry starts to feel terribly, “but I do love you, and I do want a future with you. But if you can’t even spend a weekend with my family...for something I told you about months ago and suddenly you don’t have time? That’s not normal Harry.”

 Harry stares at his hands, “I don’t want to hurt you, Jordy.”

 “Yeah well, you’re a little late for that,” she replies, and the sting hits him square in the chest, “I just want to be happy. I want to celebrate each other. I want what Evan and Jake have! I want to get married one day and spend the rest of my life with someone who loves me just as much as I love them.”

 That was all it took, and Harry didn’t feel so bad about her tears anymore. Deep down, he knew it wasn’t her fault. How was she supposed to her her boyfriend was in love with his best friend? He resented her statement. The wound was still fresh and the hangover in trying to forget the whole thing was still lingering.

 “I don’t think you can be that for me right now, Harry.” Jordan says.

 She stands and kisses the top of his head, “I’ll let myself out.”

 Harry doesn’t reply to anything. It takes him ten minutes after the front door shuts to take a deep breath again. Usually when this happened, he knows Jordan would be back soon; in a couple days, a week, a month tops. But something about this time feels different.

 It’s not long after Jordan leaves that Evan arrives back home. She smells like wine and Spanish food and her father’s cologne. She can sense the tension in his face the moment she lays eyes on him.

 “Everything alright?” She questions.

 “I feel like you’re asking me that a lot lately.”

 “It’s because you’re incredibly transparent. I know you better than you know yourself, you know,” she grins.

 Harry falls silent and looks to the floor, “Jordan dumped me again.”

 Evan fails to act surprised, “please remind me how this is new news?” She says, hanging up her coat and kicking off her boots.

 Harry huffs and stands, picking her boots up off the floor and places them on the shoe rack next to the door, “she said she wants to be with someone who loves her just as much as she loves them.”

 There’s attitude in his voice and Evan can sense it, “yeah, still failing to see the big shocker here, Harriet. What do you expect from the poor girl? You guys break up like every other week for some stupid shit and then get back together without ever working anything out. Of course she’s going to realize you don’t love her back.”

 Harry’s breath catches for a moment, “I do love her.”

 Evan rolls her eyes.

 “Okay maybe not like that, in that way,” Harry defends, “but I do have love for her…I’m just not in love with her.”

 “Ding ding we have a winner! Only took you how long to figure it out?”

 Harry lets out a breathy laugh and swings an arm around Evan, “yeah, yeah. So how did Papa Bosco take your big engagement news?”

 She pauses before answering, “strangely. I don’t know. It’s like he wanted to say something but didn’t. But not something like ‘oh I think this is a terrible idea’ but like he, I don’t know, like he’s waiting for me to figure something out.”

 Oh if she only knew.

HELLOOOOOO!!!! Thank you again everyone for the kind words of encouragement and how you’re feeling about this fic! Please let me know! Just a note for the next update, it will come a day late as the 5th I’m throwing a party for my mom’s 60th birthday and I won’t be able to post, so the next chapter will arrive on May 6th.

For any questions/comments/concerns, please do not hesitate to take advantage of my ask!

[taxesdeathtrouble]

Over The Hills And Far Away

somehow i managed to write this in one day????? what the fuck?????

there’s like, a lot of fluff in this fic, guys. A Lot.

continuation of ‘going to be true, if you’ll let me’

title is from Rita Ora’s ‘Anywhere’

~5000 words

Enjoy!!!!

1. The One Where Alex Finds Out

Chase, in general, always wants to be around Gert. If given the choice, he would pick his girlfriend (because she's his girlfriend now! He can say that!) over saving the world, no contest.

They're in her room right now, or what can loosely be called her room; the Hostel's accommodations, though useful, are sparse. They're just lucky there was six rooms here with bedframes. Old Lace is at the side of the bed, chewing on a rubber bone that Gert bought for her.

The two of them are lying on her bed, and soft music is playing from the record player. The record player was such a score that when Gert found it in the thrift shop they went to a few days ago, they bought candy bars to celebrate.

"Why did you even bring records when we left if you didn't have anything to play them on?" he asks, softly, because it's pretty peaceful right now, and he doesn't want to ruin it by being loud.

"I dunno," Gert says, shifting and leaning her head against his shoulder. "Why does anyone do anything?"

"Ah, so it's one of those days," Chase says, amused. Gert has always been very existential, sometimes.

"I don't have 'days', I am constantly, always like this. This is how I think all the time, but it just translates into nihilistic sarcasm." She says all this with her face pressed into his chest, because she's moved even closer in the past ten seconds. She's probably going to fall asleep soon.

"Big words from someone in Bugs Bunny pajamas."

"Shut up, they were on sale."

"They were a dollar off, you didn't have to buy-"

She reaches up and puts both hands on his face and squishes his lips together.

"I don't have to take this from someone with a fish face," She says, giggling.

"Stop it," he says, but it comes out as Shtop ut, which makes Gert laugh harder.

"Okay, okay, okay," she takes her hands off his face and curls up even tighter against him. He's pretty sure Gert slept exclusively in a ball for the first 16 years of her life. "Good night, baby." "Good night, honey."

They only started using the pet names because of a dumb competition on who could be more cheesy, but Chase is secretly so glad they kept doing it. Being called 'baby', and 'honey', and 'sweetheart' makes him feel so warm inside.

They fall asleep soon after, tucked under the blankets with Gert wrapped around him like a very adorable octopus.

__________

Alex wants it on the record that he didn't ask for this. He did not ask for this. It is unfair, actually, that he has to be subjected to this at nine o'clock in the morning.

All he had wanted to do is ask Gert if she had seen his Pacman t-shirt. They all had a tendency of borrowing clothes from one another, but Gert did it constantly, and he really likes that t-shirt.

But instead of the next ten minutes consisting of him getting his favourite shirt back, he walks in, and he gets fucking scarred for life. Gert and Chase are wrapped up together in bed, Gert barely out of the covers. He doesn't know how he completely missed the fact that they were dating, let alone doing..........other things. He's known these kids since birth and suddenly they're doing that? It's a tiny bit gross, if he's being honest.

And, okay. There had been some Signs lately that maybe Alex should have been paying attention to. But he's busy! Everyone sees him as the leader! His girlfriend broke up with him! He's been kind of stressed since they got to the Hostel four weeks ago, so sue him for being surprised.

He's so surprised, in fact, that he drops the ImpBook, the heavy notebook dropping to the floor like a brick and waking the two of them up.

"I am so sorry, I didn't even know you were- oh my god, I should leave you alone, sorry!" He blurts, picking up the ImpBook and getting the fuck out of there because he cannot deal with this right now.

__________

"What was that?" Gert asks. She's got an awful case of bed-head, and she's rubbing the sleep out of her eyes as she sits up, pulling away from him just the tiniest bit. Chase mourns the loss.

"Alex being weird. Want me to go get you some coffee?"

She leans in and kisses his cheek. "Yes please."

He loves her so much. He hasn't told her yet, because its been just past a month and he doesn't want to freak her out, but its true.

He makes his way to the common room, making sure not to trip over Old Lace, to start a pot of coffee. Well actually, first he goes and brushes his teeth so he's not walking around with stank breath. Then he heads to the common room.

Alex is in there when Chase walks in. He's flipping through the ImpBook, clearly not actually looking at the pages. Chase starts on the coffee, already getting out the six sugar packets Gert takes in her coffee because his girlfriend (!!!!!) is nuts. He's halfway through a 'hey, do you want any?' when Alex interrupts him.

"So, uh, how long have you guys been, uh....."

"We've been together for about a month and a half, Wilder. Did you seriously not notice?"

"No, not at all. Am I just clueless, or are you guys doing the secrecy thing?"

Chase pours coffee into Gert's dinosaur mug and starts stirring in the crazy amount of sugar.

"I don't think we are. We haven't outright told anyone, but that's because we thought it was obvious? But if it isn't......" Hm. Well, if they have to go around telling people, he's glad that, completely by accident, they only have two people to tell.

He treks back to Gert's room with only one mug in hand, because he hates coffee and they're out of tea right now.

As soon as he walks through the door, she makes grabby hands at him until he slides into bed and hands Gert her mug. She takes a long sip.

"Thanks, honey."

He wraps an arm around her, lazily pulling her closer. "No problem, sweetheart. Hey, did you know that apparently Karolina and Nico don't know we're together?"

"Yeah, I'm aware." She finishes the last of her coffee and puts the empty mug on the nightstand, then leans back into him. "Last week they were teasing me for not quote unquote 'tapping that' yet. Which, to be fair, is the most hypocritical bullshit I've ever heard, considering the way they dance around each other. We're we ever that bad?"

"Probably."

"Ugh, glad we got our shit together then. Do we plan to tell them, or are we letting them find out naturally in what is sure to be a hilarious fashion?" God, does Chase love being a we.

"Either way is good to me, but I can tell which one you want to do, so lets go with the second option."

She kisses him, without reason, without prompting. It's sweet, and slow, and short. But it's the kind of kiss that promises more to come over days, months, years. Before Gert, he'd never been kissed like this. If you asked him to do word association for the word 'kiss', he would say party, alcohol, empty. And maybe it's corny, but before Gert, Chase has never had a real kiss. Not even with Karolina, because she had definitely not enjoyed it, which kind of ruins any kiss.

Well, actually, he has had a real kiss before dating Gert. But that kiss- his very first one, the one that's supposed to be awkward and weird but wasn't- was also with Gert, somehow.

They were fourteen- well, Gert was, Chase was still thirteen thanks to his dumb late December birthday, and they were at a party. It was one of those generic, 'invite everyone in your class' parties at Jake Abbott's house, and they were hanging out in the basement playing monopoly or ping pong or whatever. And the party was fine, if a bit boring, until Eiffel lobbied for everyone to play spin the bottle.

They all sat in a circle, and the first few rounds were fine, until it was Gert's turn. And Chase remembers the bad feeling in his stomach as the bottle span, not knowing why he felt so sick. He knows now that it was pure, lime green jealousy.

So the bottle span and span, and Chase felt worse and worse, until the bottle stopped.......on him. Gert looked nonplussed as she crossed the circle, in huge contrast to the way Chase remembers his mind racing, his cheeks getting hot. She sat cross-legged in front of him, and with a mumbled, 'this is okay, right?' she leaned in.

He remembers it in detail, mostly because for months afterward he would go over it again and again, often not getting enough sleep because of it. Gert's fingers had twisted into his shirt as she pulled him in, and he remembers thinking that she smelled citrusy, like orange juice on a Sunday morning. She'd been confident where Chase had been so, so nervous, like she'd kissed someone before and it didn't freak her out anymore. It had freaked Chase out, mostly because of how much he liked it- this was another thing that kept him up at night for months, the idea of liking Gert. But, of course, back then he was too much of a coward to actually ask her out, so.

Gert had pulled away, wiped her mouth, and went back to her spot, looking for all the world unaffected. Her cheeks were a little pink, sure, but it was nothing compared to the mess Chase had been sure he looked. Chase remembers wishing he'd ran his fingers through her long hair while he had the chance, thinking this will never happen again and I am screwed.

Chase has never been more glad to be wrong.

__________

2. The One Where Karolina Finds Out

Karolina, Gert, Molly, Nico, and Old Lace (who is pretty much asleep) are having a quote unquote Girls Night. Which, to be honest, isn't much. All they're really doing is watching Ten Things I Hate About You and painting each others nails. But the boys aren't allowed in the TV room the entire night unless there's an emergency, so it's a Girls Night.

Gert, it seems, has seen this movie more times than could be counted on both hands and feet, from the way she's mouthing along to every line.

"Hey, Gert," Molly says, pulling her out of the trance as she holds up two nail polish bottles, "powder blue or baby pink?"

"Is there any other colours? I'm not in a very pastel mood."

"Not unless you want to go emo with Nico's jet black." Molly says, holding up the bottle.

"Excuse you, it's not emo, it's goth revival! Get it right." Nico says, stealing it back.

"Nico," Karolina says, knowing the fond tone she's taking on is probably not appropriate for a girl she's not even dating yet, "The colour is called 'the void.' Does that not strike you as the littlest bit emo?" Nico sticks her tongue out at her. It's really, really cute.

"Ugh, fine," Gert says, holding out her hand, "pink please."

Gert gets absorbed back into the movie as Molly paints her nails for her.

"So, Gert," Karolina starts, mentally rubbing her hands together to prepare for teasing.

"Yeah?"

"When are you going to ask out your very own Heath Ledger, huh?"

"First of all," Gert starts, turning away from the screen, "Don't compare Chase to Heath Ledger, he's hot as hell but he doesn't win against Heath Ledger, I mean, come on, and second of all- fuck this is my favourite part everyone shut up."

On screen, Julia Stiles is standing in front of the class, reading her poem.

"I hate the way you talk to me And the way you cut your hair I hate the way you drive my car I hate it when you stare

I hate your big dumb combat boots And the way you read my mind I hate you so much that it makes me sick It even makes me rhyme

I hate the way you're always right I hate it when you lie I hate it when you make me laugh Even worse when you make me cry

I hate the way you're not around And the fact that you didn't call But mostly I hate the way I don't hate you Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all."

A single tear streams down Gert's face, and Molly says, "You do this every time we watch this, and I still don't get it. It's just a movie."

"Yeah, but they're in love, Molly. And wasn't it great seeing Bianca punch out Joey?" Molly nods, and they watch as the movie ends to Letters To Cleo's I Want You To Want Me.

Gert, Karolina has noticed, is a bit of a closet romantic. Karolina really can't wait for Chase to get his shit together and ask her out, they're gonna be so good together.

After Nico turns off the projector, but instead of letting the silence stew, she starts humming the first few lines to The Barenaked ladies One Week, which has been stuck in Karolina's head since the start of the movie.

Gert and Molly join in and start to sing the first part of the song, then the three of them turn to Karolina in surprise as she starts up an almost perfect rendition of the rap. She can't sing for shit, so she's been practicing different rap songs in her spare time since they got here. She almost has Alphabet Aerobics down.

The four of them get up and do silly dances as she raps, then it switches to the song part and they all sing it pretty badly other than Gert. She's always been a fantastic singer.

She starts the second rap part, and even though this song mostly doesn't make sense in the slightest, it is so, so fun. They finish the last verse and practically fall to the ground laughing.

"Okay, okay," Gert says, holding back giggles. "I'm going to go see if there's any snacks around, be right back."

__________ ~~~~~ She really did just want to get snacks, seeing Chase is just an added bonus.

Gert had been looking for chips when Chase had scared her half to death as he wrapped both arms around her from behind. If she hadn't pushed down her gut reaction, Gert would have totally elbowed him, hard, in the stomach. As it happens, she just lets out a gasp.

"Oh, did I scare you?" he says, totally already knowing the answer. "Sorry."

"Uh-huh, sure."

He hooks his chin over shoulder, asking, "So how's Girl's Night?"

"Oh, so fun. We watched Ten Things I Hate About You and now I'm getting snacks." she places her hand over his, fiddling with his fingers.

"Ah, the crying movie. Love that one."

"Oh, shut it, I once saw you cry while watching Airbud. Airbud, babe."

"I was thirteen, leave me alone."

"Hmm, leave you alone, huh?" she turns to face him, and puts on her best smirk. "You sure?"

~~~~~

Fuck.

Chase leans in, threads his fingers through her hair as he kisses her. It's a bit more passionate than usual, but that's just like comparing a campfire to a forest fire- it's the same flames every time. Gert's fingers scrabble against his shirt, and she keens, just a little. And that's when Chase loses any and all trains of thought. She moves a hand up to his neck, moving her thumb against his rapid fire pulse.

And then Karolina walks in.

"Hey, Gert, what's taking so- Ohhh. Oh. Oh my God. When did this happen?!"

She wipes her mouth, her lips still red. "Um, a month and a half ago, about." she lets out a small gasp, like she's still catching her breath. Chase cannot take his eyes off her.

Gert grabs the bag of chips, pecks him on the lips, and with a "Bye, Chase," she's gone.

~~~~~

"So can I tell Nico about that, or?" Karolina says, fidgeting as they walk back to the TV room.

"Hmm," Gert starts, "well, she is the only one who doesn't know-"

"Wait, how did Alex know before I did? What even?"

"The only reason Alex knew before you did is because he has no sense of personal space and barged into my room at nine am." Gert says, smiling at the memory.

"Wait, so are guys.....like......uh....." She looks so uncomfortable, and Gert is confused until it dawns on her.

"NO! No, nonononono, we are definitely not- no. And we have no plans to! None. At least in the near future, anyway. We just sleep in the same bed sometimes. Every night. Uh." her face is like, doing something right now. subject change, subject change, subject change.

"Okayy, so can I tell her, or......?"

"I have a deal for you." They stop in the hallway, and Gert puts both hands on Karolina's shoulders.

"If you ask Nico out, you can tell her. Right the fuck away, I don't care. But you have to ask her out first. Okay?"

Karolina nods, dazed. She clearly didn't expect a (well meaning, come on, they would be so good together) ultimatum.

"Cool."

3. The One Where Nico Already Knew

It's raining.

Usually, this would make Chase kind of emotional in a good way, because every time it rains since he and Gert got together, he gets sappy and reminiscent and romantic. But right now its raining.

And they're outside.

Nico, Gert, and himself have just gotten out of the car to walk to the grocery in the pouring rain when he realizes.

"Oh my God, you don't have a raincoat." How does she not have a raincoat? He's already taking off his jacket, which doesn't have a hood but will have to do as he hands it to Gert. She puts it on and rubs her arms.

"Thank you," she says, "but I'm going to be mad at you if you get sick."

"I know."

"Guys, come on, it's so fucking freezing!" Nico says as she speeds up to a trot. They've parked a little ways away from the grocery store for safety's sake, but it's so far and the rain is coming down so hard that they're all halfway between walking and running, and the only reason the three of them aren't flat out sprinting is because they don't want to trip.

They get under the awning, and the girls squeeze out their hair as Chase twists water out of his sweater. They walk in and search the aisles for the items on their, frankly, huge list. Alex really doesn't forget anything.

They have to split up after a while so they're not at fucking Loblaws for three hours. Gert and Chase must be faster than Nico though, because they meet under the awning at the agreed spot with their bags and she's not there yet.

The bags sit at their feet as they wait, Chase's arm over Gert' shoulder with her leaning into him. Chase is freezing, but having her with him is warming him up just fine.

"Baby," he says, kissing the top of her head, "it's raining."

"Is it?" she jokes. He loves her so much its insane.

"You know what else happened when it was raining?"

"Hmm, I don't know," her tone is amused as she looks up at it him. "Was it, perhaps, this?" She kisses him slow and sweet, and he thinks of a rainy day like this one not too long ago, the day that went so, so well for him.

__________

So Gert and Chase are making out in front of the Loblaws. To be honest, Nico wishes she was more surprised. She's not sure of, like, the exact date they got together, but she knows it was in the past two months or so, because they're still sort of in that lovey-dovey phase. Although, Nico is pretty sure they might never grow out of it. The way she sees Chase look at Gert sometimes, like she's the most amazing thing he's ever seen, is enough to make even Nico jealous of their relationship. Fuck, she wishes she had the balls to ask Karolina out already.

She clears her throat, and they pull apart.

"Uh, hey, so-" Chase starts, attempting to clear self created awkwardness.

"Guys, I already knew, don't worry about it,'' she says, smiling, "I'm happy for you."

Gert smiles back and thanks her. They break into a run because its pouring even harder, and Gert gets in the drivers seat as Chase calls shotgun before Nico can.

"How long did you know?" Gert asks, eyes still on the road.

"Since we went to that party, you know, the one where you wore that satin black dress?"

"Yeah, and?"

"You blew him a kiss and he tripped on thin air. So yeah, that's when I knew." She smiles at the memory. At the time, that had been one of the funniest things she'd ever seen.

__________�~~~~~

Oh, does Chase remember that party. They'd gotten there at different times, because Gert had to run an errand. It was about a two weeks after they started dating, and Chase was still thinking every few minutes is this real is this real is this real. sometimes he still thinks that, to be honest.

She'd walked in wearing a satin dress looking like a purple haired Marilyn Monroe, like a wind could blow and she'd be recreating the iconic picture of the blonde bombshell, just in black.

Damn, does his girlfriend look good in black.

She'd caught his eye, saw him walking towards her, and blew him a kiss with her glossy red lips.

And yes, he did trip over his own feet.

"You look.....so good." He'd said when he reached her, hands on her waist and leaning towards her.

"I know."

They'd danced together the whole night, and when they got into the Lyft home, her lipstick had spread all across his mouth. That night had definitely been one for the books.

Now, Chase reaches over and tugs a wet piece of her hair. "Your hair looks nice like this." He says, then sniffles because he can feel his nose getting stuffed already.

"Thanks, babe, but if you get sick because you gave me your jacket I will kick your ass, okay?"

4. The One Where Molly Realizes Gert And Chase Are A Bit More Serious Than She Thought

He gets sick.

Waking up the next day to a pounding headache and barely being able to breath through his nose is verifiably awful. And waking up alone is even worse. He's not sure where Gert went. They'd fallen asleep together last night, but he wakes up in her bed by himself, so she must have gotten up at some point.

He shuffles his way to the common room, having to stop a few times so he doesn't like, keel over, but he gets there. He stops in the doorway and sees everyone eating Chef Boyardee while Gert makes what smells like chicken noodle soup at the stove.

"How long have I been out?" he says, his words slurring a little bit.

"It's one in the afternoon, honey." Gert turns towards him, "I told you you'd get sick," she says fondly.

"You did, but rather me than you, so whatever." He yawns, and Gert tells him to go back to bed.

"I'll bring you your soup and some medicine in a minute, okay?"

He nods and heads back to his room.

__________

Honey?

Molly hadn't realized Gert and Chase were the pet names type. She hadn't realized they were the serious type either. And maybe she's been a bit naïve about them since they got together. The other kids would say that she's just naïve in general, or just think it, and she hates when they do that.

She remembers going home that day, the day, Gert practically jittering in the drivers seat.

"So," Molly had started, "Chase is your boyfriend now, right?

"Yes? I mean, I think so? We're.....letting it develop."

And then they didn't really, actually talk about it. Gert would gush, Chase is so hot, he's so kind, I think I really care about him, Molly. That last one had really thrown her for a loop at the time, and even now it seems so out of the blue to her. Maybe it's just because she hasn't really felt that way about anyone yet, and while she likes it that way, it's hard to analyze a situation that she has no personal experience with. Woah, she really needs to stop listening to everything Gert says, even Molly's thoughts sound like her.

Gert comes back after a while, saying that Chase is asleep again, and promptly face planting onto the couch.

"I really did tell him he'd get sick!" She whines to Karolina, who's running her fingers through Gert's hair.

"I know."

"He really didn't have to give me his jacket! I would have been fine!"

"I know."

"Oh, yeah, you're out of the deal now, Nico knows."

"I kn- wait, what?"

"Yeah, apparently she knew the whole time."

"Not apparently," Nico says, looking up from her book, "I did know the whole time. You two were never subtle. What deal?"

"Oh," Gert has that look in her eyes that means she thinks she's made a terrible mistake as she gets up, grabbing Molly by the arm, "okay, we're going to go check on Chase," she pulls Molly towards the door.

"But you just saw him, he's fine-"

"We're leaving!"

They get out of there quickly and head to Chase's room, but when they go in, he's not there. Gert flops down on the bed and grabs a pillow, squeezing it in worry, though Molly can't tell what about.

"Um, Gert? Where's Chase? This is his room, isn't it?"

"Oh. Uh, yes. He's...........somewhere else." She looks shiftily to one side.

"Where?" Molly asks, looking around. There's not much of a personality to Chase's room, or any of their rooms, for that matter. Running away from murderous parents doesn't usually entail bringing décor. His top blanket is a soft blue, worn around the edges. There's a half empty bottle of water on the floor next to the bed. But there, in a picture frame on his nightstand, is a photo booth strip of pictures of him and Gert. The first picture is the two of them making silly faces at the camera. In the second one, Chase is kissing Gert's cheek, in the third photo, they look like they just pulled back from a kiss, foreheads touching and sickeningly sweet smiles just visible. In the fourth photo they're looking back at the camera again, with big grins and pink cheeks.

Gert has the same photo strip folded oh so carefully in her wallet, right next to her picture of Molly. Molly is pretty sure that there's not even any money in that wallet. It's super old, old enough that Alex had made sure to check it for a tracker before Gert was allowed to take it with her.

"Um, my room? He slept there last night, and I guess he just went back reflexively."

At 'my room', Molly's eyes bug out. "Why are you sleeping in the same room??????????"

"It's just a couples thing, Mols," Gert says, even though she still looks shifty, "Don't worry about it."

"Gert, I know what sex is, seriously, you can-"

"No, Molly, nonononono. We haven't Done That, and no, I would not like to talk about it, noooooo. Shush. Come on," Gert says, clearly done with this line of conversation, "We're going to actually check on Chase, now, I'm worried."

"You saw him a half hour ago."

"I know, but still."

They tiptoe into Gert's room so they don't wake up Chase, but he's already awake.

"Hi, baby." He says to Gert, voice crackling. Molly is pretty sure Chase doesn't even notice she's in the room, which, to be honest, she's kind of miffed about.

"Hi," she's got that tone she used to get with the cat they had when Molly was seven- Mr. Snuffles. Gert pretended the entire time he was around that she hated him, but whenever she talked about him she'd get that exact tone in her voice. They'd both cried for days when he died.

Gert sits on the side of Chase's bed and checks his temperature with a kiss to his forehead. Stacy used to do that too, and Molly wonders if Gert does it because she did.

"I'm going to go get you a cold cloth, okay?" she gets up, looking determined. Molly wonders how she's going to do that when they don't even have a fridge, but Gert has her ways.

"I think I'm going to marry her," Chase says, apropos of nothing as he watches the door even after she's left, and even though Molly isn't sure he's talking to her, specifically, maybe he just makes grand statements when he's alone and nobody knows, she responds.

"As long as I'm the Maid Of Honour."

"Sure, Mols."

She thinks she's starting to understand this whole love thing, now.

[hotdogjumpingfrog5]

It’s Strange - Chapter Twelve

Previous Chapters: Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven, Chapter Eight, Chapter Nine, Chapter Ten, Chapter Eleven

~

September 18th, 1986

It was a Thursday afternoon, and Max was sat down in her usual spot in the window that overlooked the crowd of students coming into the private school. She was now in her second year at St. Peter’s, and didn’t feel different unlike the rest of her friends or the losers, since she went to an all-grade school, unlike them, who are fresh out of junior high and middle school.

She found private school to be a lot more better to focus on, so Max continued to stay at St. Peter’s. Max still kept to herself on many occasions, she couldn’t find herself to fit in with a lot of the snobby overachievers of the school, nor did she want to. Barely anyone acknowledged her existence, and she didn’t acknowledge theirs, either. Besides, Lucas would drive by on his bicycle almost every day after school to bring her back home. 

Max was still one of the frequent people Kevin liked to pick on, but other than that, she found private school to be okay. She still couldn’t believe that Kevin was Ben’s cousin. They were nothing alike; Kevin was an obnoxious twit who thought he was a ‘cool guy’, but Ben was the peacemaker of the losers club, and when the losers joined Mike (Wheeler)’s group, aka the party. Ben also knew how to treat people with kindness, and that’s what everyone loved most about Ben.

As Max was about to make her way to class after the last lunch bell rang, she got shoved right into the lockers.

“Hey ginger boy.” Kevin said smugly

“Wow Kevin, haven’t seen your sickening presence in a while.” Max replied

“You disgust me.” said Kevin, “I’m surprised you came back here, I honestly thought you were going to go back to public school with your negro of a boyfriend and other idiot friends.”

“Did you treat Ella like you did with me or?”

“You mean Benny boy’s sicko friend Edweirdo’s twin sis? Hell yeah, probably equal to you,” Kevin continued, “Maybe it’s because you both look ridiculous and are the most painful introverts I’ve ever met.”

Nothing wrong with being an introvert, Kevin. Max thought, Fuck off

It was true though, Max was only ever comfortable around her friends. Same with Ella (unlike Eddie), Will, Mike (Hanlon), Stan, and that’s all she could really think of at that moment. The rest of Bill and Mike (Wheeler)’s group were either extroverted, or in the middle, but what’s a group without both?

Max vaguely remembers the day Ben and Stan were over at Lucas’, and when Ben revealed about Kevin. 

Right after learning about that, she remembers asking Ella about it, and she had told Max after switching to public school with her brother and the rest of the losers about what Kevin was like before she left private school, and Kevin hadn’t changed since, either. El mentioned to Max about what Kevin was like, and she was right. It all matched up; always critizing, goes around thinking he’s all that, says the rudest things, calling you out/tattle tailing for every little thing, and so on.  

Max also remembers Ben mentioning about how Kevin had insulted him, El, and the rest of the losers back in December when they were up, and his Aunt Jean didn’t care, even though it was completely Kevin’s fault. 

“So, ginger,” Kevin said while putting his hand on the locker, making a loud thump, “Make sure you, Kaspbleh, her brother Edweirdo, your negro boyfriend, s-s-stuttering Bill, frogface, frogface’s brother, zombie boy, that Jew, Ben, and the rest of you losers get a grip and stop being such idiots.”

When he walked down the hallway, Max gave him the bird while his back was turned, and she always did, just like she did with Billy. Though Billy was a lot worse than Kevin.

Frogface

She thought the word sounded familiar, but couldn’t figure out where it came from.

~

September 27th, 1986

Stan sat in the living room on a partly sunny afternoon, waiting for the few people of the losers and the party of that were actually interested in this hobby that not a lot of people would normally take interest in; bird watching.

In the living room, the Uris’ placed two Hanukkah candles on each shelf, and a bronze Star of David next to the window, which the sun would occasionally gleam down on, along with a few photos of Stan’s parents before they got married, photos of Stan when he was younger, and a few pictures from Stan’s Bar Mitzvah two years ago. 

Stan was glad he had a few friends he could count on to go bird watching with him every once in a while, he usually did it by himself or with Mike Hanlon, but today Stan wanted a few others to join him.

Previous day at school, him, Bill, Richie, and Eddie were walking along the hallways of Derry High, when the subject came up again.

“S-S-Sorry S-Stan, I n-need to s-stay at home with G-G-Georgie while my p-p-parents go on this t-t-two week c-cruise in S-San Diego.” said Bill, “B-Besides, that’s n-n-not my thing n-no offense.”

“None taken.” 

“Didn’t my sister, Mike, and Ben go with you last time?” said Eddie, “No offense but that’s not really my thing either.”

“Yeah, they said they would come.” Stan responded

“You guys are such dweebs.” Richie laughs, “While you four go bird watching I will be knocking up Mrs. Uris.”

“Richie, you idiot!” Stan said in annoyance 

“Beep beep R-R-Richie.” said Bill

“This is high school, not grade seven.” Eddie said, tired of his weird mom jokes that he continued with, “Besides, we’re all virgins in this group.”

“Not me,” said Richie, “Mrs. K don’t count. What do you think I’m doing as soon as you and El fall asleep each night?”

“That is so not funny.”

Stan stood up, looking out the window while on the lookout for Ben, Mike (Hanlon), Ella, Max, and Lucas. 

“You know Stan,” his father walked in, “I’m glad you are going bird watching with your friends, you haven’t done that in a long while.”

He was now close to the same height as his father, Stan now standing 5′9″

“Yeah, it’s fun.” Stan responded, his focus out the window

“Just make sure you’re back by 6:30, tomorrow is Sunday and we have a service to go to.” said his father

Stan looked at his watch, and it was now almost 2:30. 

A few minutes pass by, and Max and Lucas are the first ones to arrive on their bike, along with Ben, Mike, and Ella who came together shortly after.

The six of them made their way to the barrens, which the grass was turning an almost yellow colour from the fall air, and the water was now a lot colder, so no one really bothered to go through it that much.

“Will this be one of the last bird watchings we do this season?” Lucas asked

“Maybe one of them,” Stan responded, “We’re in high school, so that will take up a lot of time, and there aren’t as many birds around in November through March.”

Each of them went in different areas of the barrens area, Stan and Mike went into the grassy field, Max and Ella looked down the river, and Ben and Lucas went into the forest

Stan and Mike sat down together in the long grass that was swaying in the wind, and they laid down, taking in the 10 degree breeze while listening for the occasional chirp before they would sprout back up again.

“You know, I really like doing this with you.” said Mike, “We’ll defintley do this again during the spring, right?”

“Yes, defintley.” Stan smirked, “But maybe we’ll all do one more next month, before all the sparrows and blue jays leave.”

“Yeah, otherwise we will only spot more crows than the ones in my grandfather’s backyard.” said Mike

They both chuckled, while continuing to lay back, staring up into the sky.

Meanwhile, Max and Ella were well into the bird watching as much as Stan was, the two of them managed to spot a woodpecker and two sparrows. 

They sat down by the river for a few minutes, listening for more birds over the sound of the flowing river.

“How’s Eleven doing, and the others?” Ella asked

“She’s good,” said Max, “Hopper wants her to stay in the house a bit more since October is coming, but Mike is up there almost every week. She seems to like me a bit more.”

“Told you she’d get used to you.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” said Max, “How’s Eddie by the way?”

“Annoying and bossy as always, and has become a lot like our mom since he saw that weird thing on the Fourth of July.” said Ella

“Tell me about it,” says Max, “Brothers are awful, but yours is not as bad as mine, trust me. Aren’t you and Eddie turning 15 in a few days?”

“Yeah,” El said, “Second of October.”

“Oh, happy early birthday!”

“Thanks,” El responds, then notices a shadow in the trees

She rubs her eyes thinking it’s her mind playing tricks, but it wasn’t. It was still there, and she could feel whoever It was watching them, and was starting to feel creeped out. Ella points out what she saw to Max, but Max convinced it was just a bunch of twigs cluttered together

“No it’s not,” Ella whispered, “I’m staring right at it, can’t you see it?”

Max felt goosebumps across her body, and remembered the strange man she was in the woods of Hawkins while waiting for Mike (Wheeler) and the rest of their group. This was a year ago, but it all came back to her.

“What does it look like?” Max asked nervously

“Kinda tall, trenchcoat, can’t see the face -”

That’s all it took for Max to say “Let’s go!” and drag her by the arm, going more closer to the group, Max wondered why she couldn’t see It or whoever it was. 

Ben and Lucas find this opening in the woods behind the barrens, after about 20 minutes of looking for a good bird-watching spot.

They came close to this steep hill on the edge, where there was a road railing at the top of that hill.

Ben knew that spot well, and insisted they move somewhere else. He got bad flashbacks from Henry Bowers and his gang, and he hasn’t thought about them since almost a year ago when Bill dreamt about them at a sleepover they had with Stan and Richie. 

That’s weird, Ben thought, he forgotten they even existed, and wondered why he thought about them just now, even though it has been well over two years since he thought about them, aside from the sleepover at Stan’s last November. 

“Let’s go somewhere else,” said Ben, “I think I found a good spot over there that we just passed.”

“Sounds cool, it is kinda creepy over here anyway.” said Lucas, “Speaking of creepy, my sister Erica was acting kind of weird the night before last.”

“What do you mean?” Ben asked

“Well, I know this sounds strange, but I woke up, and could have sworn I heard screeching sounds. Kind of similar to those demogorgons me, Mike, and our group in Hawkins defeated, while you guys defeated that clown of whatever.” Lucas continued, “Anyhow, I was going to go in my parents room, then Erica said something like ‘Time to float’ or whatever, it was weird.”

Everything Lucas had said made Ben’s skin crawl.

“Shit,” said Ben, “Pennywise, the demogorgon, Henry Bowers and his goons, how come we’re only thinking about this now? After almost two years of all that, those memories only come back to us now. Why is that?”

“I don’t know,” said Lucas, “But we did manage to defeat all of them. As different groups. I don’t know, maybe it’s because this area of the forest is creepy, and I guess that bad experience you bad with those bullies...”

“Let’s just move along,” said Ben, “We are out here bird watching, not looking for something creepy.”

So far Ben and Lucas had the least amount of luck with the birds, the birds seemed to be more out in the open rather than in the woods. But it was a sunny and clear afternoon after all. 

The two of them had only spotted a few crows, with the occasional sparrow or two. Time was passing ever so slowly for them, yet flew by at the same time.

It was now after 4:30, they had arrived at Stan’s at 2:30, and it was about ten minute bike ride to get to the barrens. 

“Okay guys, I think we’re done for today!” Stan called out, four pairs of footsteps could be heard coming into the forest

The six of them had gathered in the clearing that Lucas and Ben were in, discussing what they found.

“We didn’t find much.” Ben said, bummed out

“Lucas, Ben, you guys look like you have seen a ghost.” said Max

“Do we? Nah we just find this area...creepy.” Lucas responded

“Yeah, we should get going.” said Max

The six of them walked along the trail leading back to the river, Lucas and Max ahead of them walking hand-in-hand, while Stan, Ben, Mike, and Ella walked behind them, going through the bird books.

“Next time Stan, we’re going out in the field.” Lucas said while he turned back at them

“No way Lucas, that’s me and Mike’s designated area.” Stan smirked

The rest of them chuckled at the dialogue between Stan and Lucas, little did they know about what was in the woods they were in. Creeping slyly in the woods, Ben’s instincts were indeed correct.

Camouflaged in the steep hill, a group of four had managed to spy on the six of them from above.

“Well well,” Henry smirked, “If it isn’t the losers and other losers of Hawkins.”

“I’m glad we got It after wheezy boy’s sister.” Patrick snickered, “Who the fuck is that other black holding hands with Billy’s ginger sister?”

“Can’t believe that Marsh girl is back, I’m getting hard thinking about the lesbian fun her and wheezy girl may be up to.” Belch smirked

Belch and Patrick laughed at the perverted and psychotic thoughts that were going through their messed up minds.

“Can we take off our wigs?” Victor asked, “These are getting way too hot.”

“You absolutely can fucking not,” said Henry, “If people know we’re still out here, it’s all your guys fucking faults.”

“What else did Billy ask us to do?” said Victor, “Do we need to ask the thing to mess with someone else or is one good enough for today?”

“One’s good for today,” Henry responded, “Luckily those dweebs haven’t spotted us. Except for four-eyed faggot’s other faggot twin and faggot twin’s other friends, and four-eyed faggot’s sister and her ridiculous friends.”

The three of them stared at Henry with such confused expressions, the amount of times he used the word faggot and the anger in Henry’s voice was just a lot to process. But they all knew Henry was the most messed up of them all.

“Let me get this straight,” said Patrick, “In Derry, there are S-S-Stuttering B-B-Bill, the fucking Jew, homeschooled nigger, fatboy, four-eyed fag, Beverly slut Marsh, wheezy boy and wheezy boy’s sister. Then in Hawkins we have four-eyed faggot’s twin, Wheeler’s weirdo girlfriend, toothless, Billy’s ginger sister, zombie boy, and that other negro.”

“Yes,” Henry said calmly, “You also forgot fuckface’s sister, zombie boy’s older brother, loser Harrington, and the other slag in their group, who Billy told us was related to that weird girl with superpowers?”

“When will the demogorogon come back and help us?” said Belch

“That’s not up to me to decide,” said Henry, “That’s up to It to decided, and Billy tells us what to do. For now we got that thing there to mess up all of those faggots one by one. Now our next mission is fuck around with four eyed faggot’s sister, her zombie boyfriend, Hawkin’s biggest slut, and that Steven guy.”

“When do you want to do that?” Victor asked

“Not yet, Vicky,” said Henry, “When they least expect it. Kinda like how the thing messed with the other dweebs in Derry and Hawkins. All one by one.”

“Didn’t those older kids try to call the cops on us?”

“Yes, Patrick,” Henry said, annoyed, and tired of answering all of their persistent questions, “But everyone thinks we’re dead, remember? They moved on; they moved on from Betty Ripsom, Edward Cororan, Barbara Holland, everyone. The cops don’t give a fuck in Derry-Hawkins. Neither did my dad. That’s why I fucking killed him.”

The other three looked down, only now realizing they too have been forgotten about in Derry-Hawkins. 

“Hey, you fuckfaces stop looking so goddamn sad, you look like pussies.” Henry spat, “Come on and move your fucking asses, we got a long bus ride home!”

~

October 10th, 1986

It was now Friday evening. Mike (Wheeler), Eleven, Dustin, Will, Lucas, Max, and Richie rode their bikes together and ended up near the empty field in Hawkins they usually hung around. Dustin insisted Richie come along with them, even though Mike said no multiple times before giving in.

Richie had nothing else better to do that night, and the Kaspbraks were out of town for the weekend, seeing family in New Brunswick. So Richie gladly went with the party after Mike gave in

Earlier when they left the house, they opened the door to find Nancy and Johnathan making out on their front porch, unaware that anyone was inside.

Lucas, Max, and Dustin snickered, while the other four gave them disgusted expressions after witnessing that.

Eleven used her mind to pull them away, but not the violent type of pulling.

“Really Nancy?” said Mike

“Get a room!” Richie exclaimed

“Yeah, Johnathan.” Will pushed past Johnathan

Nancy and Johnathan gave annoyed looks at what the twins and Will said, and entered the house.

“That was weird.” said Eleven, looking down awkwardly

“I know, tell me about it.” Mike responded

“Kind of hot, honestly.” Dustin snickered

“Hey! Those jokes are only okay when it doesn’t involve our sister!” Richie rolled his eyes

“Or brother.” said Will

The grass was now fading to a yellowish colour, but the ground was okay enough to continue riding their bicycles for the season. It was a school night, but tomorrow would be Friday, so they were perfectly fine by that.

The six of them had made their way by the playground, and despite being fifteen, decided to play around on it. There weren’t any other children or parents around this time of the evening, probably since it would be dark in another hour or so, and it was five degrees outside.

Out of them all, Dustin and Richie were having the most fun, and were the last ones playing around in the park, goofing around on the monkey bars while Mike, Eleven, Will, Lucas, and Max eventually sat down and watched them make fools of themselves

“Weirdos.” Max laughed

“The only reason Richie is here is because Dustin was pestering me about it earlier.” said Mike

“I see no difference in the two.” Eleven smirked

Dustin and Richie’s laughs and noises fade into the background while the other five continue their conversations

“So, how was everyone’s days at school?” Mike asked

“Private school is lame as always.” said Max

“Good, we sat together at lunch and the day flew by so I think it was fairly good for us.” said Lucas

Will looked down, not responding to Mike’s question

“Hey Will, you okay?” Mike asked, while coming over his way to comfort him

Will shook his head, and grabbed a note from his bookbag, the four of them looking over his shoulder as he flattened out a crumpled up note that read:

Zombie boy

“Fucking mouth breather.” Eleven huffed

They all knew who was behind this. Troy and James, and more than likely their senior friends.

“What is wrong with them?” Will groaned, burying his face into his hands

“They’re idiots,” said Mike, comforting him, “That’s all they’ll ever be.”

“Damn,” Richie butted in, “What did that cocksucker Troy do to you this time?”

“Richie, stay out of this.” said Mike

“No, he’s cool.” said Dustin, “Troy and James are such fucking -”

That’s when they noticed a car pull up in the empty dirt road parking lot, music could be heard through their closed car windows. Inside were about three or four what looked to be girls.

The six of them stared at them, watching as they sat there for a few seconds before finally getting out of their car.

Max rolled her eyes, she knew those four faces. Those girls that always dropped up to Billy’s house, though every time she would eavesdrop on their conversations between them and Billy, they sounded rather masculine than feminine.

“Hi there.” said the leader of the pack, while the other three “girls”, a tall dark-haired girl, an overweight girl, and a quiet blonde girl stood behind them, “Hi Maxine.”

The party recognized the four of them. Except for Richie, who was just as confused as they were.

“What do you guys want?” Max scoffed

“Billy just wanted to know where you were. Thought we would check up on you.” the leader grinned

The other three snickered, while the larger girl of the group let out a gigantic belch, making the six of them cringe.

“Shut up, Beth.” the leader snarled, “Use your fucking manners for once.”

“Seriously, what are you guys really doing here?” Mike asked, the rest of them knew Billy did not give two fucks about Max

“I don’t know,” the leader sighed, “We get lost around Derry-Hawkins, we’re from Texas, in case I haven’t mentioned, I’m Hillary Bordaeux, this is Catherine, Victoria, and Bethany.”

“We don’t give a fuck who you are, Derry-Hawkins isn’t that hard to get around!” said Richie

The taller girl nudged “Hillary”

“I knew they were twins.” “she” muttered

“Anyhow, anything else you want to ask?” Lucas said

“No...” said “Hillary”, “We better get going back home. We live two hours away.”

Mike, Richie, Dustin, Lucas, Max, Eleven, and Will watched as their car sped down the road, out of plain sight

That’s when they noticed, neither Eleven or Will had said a word the entire time they came face to face with the strange looking girls they just encountered

Will’s eyes were widened with fear, gazing off into space, while Eleven’s nose began to bleed.

Mike comforted both Eleven and Will, and Lucas and Max joined in, wondering what was wrong.

“I don’t really blame you guys for getting scared like that.” Richie broke the awkward silence, “They weren’t even that hot, that tall girl was the ugliest, ugh.”

“Richie, shut the fuck up!” Mike snapped, tired of his bullshit

“Face it Mike, they didn’t even look like girls!” said Dustin, “Maybe El and Will have this thing called sixth sense.”

“You know that this means,” Will responded, while Mike continued comforting Eleven, “We need to stay away from them any time we see them. My gut instinct told me so. I think Eleven’s is telling her something too.”

~

October 17th, 1986

Steve and Emma met up during the lunch hour at university, like they normally would a few times a week whenever they could. They were the only two that attended University of Maine, while Johnathan and Nancy were at Husscon.

“So, how is your day going, Ems?” Steve asked, while sitting down

“Mine’s good, what about yours?” Emma responded

“Good,” Steve said, “Law is really hard though.”

“You’re into law?”

“I don’t really know, Emma. What about you?” Steve looked back up

“I don’t know either, probably zooligy.” said Emma

“You mean zoology?”

“Yeah, that.”

A few seconds of silence occurred between the two, while Emma bit down in her sandwich, while Steve took a few occasional glances at her whenever her eyes were looking another way.

She does have pretty eyes. Steve thought, while his gaze went through her black hair, then onto her forearm, where three digits were visible.

007

Steve cleared his throat, breaking the silence, while he managed to blurt out, “So, how’s Eleven doing?”

“She’s doing well, actually.” said Emma, “Still being homeschooled.”

“I see.” Steve answered, “Haven’t seen the party since the summer. College is a lot of work.”

“Yeah”

He still couldn’t help but glance her way a few times.

We’re friends, why am I afraid to say anything? Steve thought, his mind racing, while Richie’s “advice” played in his mind, even though it was from months ago.

No Richie, not happening, Steve thought, he sure as hell was not going to listen to advice from a high schooler fresh out of junior high. Besides, grade school is different than college and university, and making Eleven’s sister pissed off was the last thing Steve wanted to do.

“That reminds me,” said Steve, “We haven’t seen Johnathan and Nancy in what, a few weeks? We need to get together sometime.”

“Like during Halloween?” Emma suggested, “My mum and sister won’t be home that night I don’t think. Just don’t invite anyone else over.”

“I won’t,” said Steve, “I’m not who I was two years ago. I’m a better person.”

“Mhmmm.” Emma rolled her eyes, smirking

“I amm!”

~

Next Chapter: Chapter 13