#at least twilight never pretended to be anything more than a romance

[cto10121]

Honestly, Shadow and Bone was literally what many people disparage Twilight for being (but was actually not): A terribly-written romance drenched in creepy American purity culture with a much more interesting but underutilized fantasy world.

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

Hi! It's an au twilight question.

What if Edward and Bella did the nasty in early New moon. Then the party happens and the Cullens leave. Bella discovers she's pregnant with Renesmee. What do you think what would happen?

A very interesting question, anon. One that will go very interesting places, I'm sure.

That said, as usual, because I'm a completionist, we have to go through the "why no canon?" routine. Bear with me, I simply must.

Why Didn't Edward and Bella Do the Nasty Pre-Breaking Dawn?

For all that Edward is, for all his... questionable morals and sexual fixations, he does have a moral code he strictly holds himself to.

Edward is adamantly against having sex with Bella in terror of the very real possibility that he will murder her in the act. He's very clear about this, he didn't think he could do it, at all, and only his sheer desperation that Bella never be turned, his desire to marry Bella, as well as Alice's thumbs up convinced him to do it.

If Bella was a reasonable person then she would have agreed as well. Sex with Edward, while she's human, is a bad idea. However, Bella never really seems to clue in on what vampires even are so I think the Man of Steel on Woman of Kleenex aspect is lost on her.

Had Alice not given the green light, I imagine Edward would have gone back to the drawing board and ended up either here or here. Bella turning is the worst possible outcome and Edward will risk almost anything, even Bella's death, to see it avoided.

But that doesn't mean it's an action he takes lightly.

He suggests pimping Bella out to Jake before he suggests sleeping with her himself. For Edward, this is a last resort.

More, Edward is a man of his time.

Edward was from an upper class family and, more to the point, still holds himself to the standards of the society he knew when human (much to Bella's amusement).

Edward wistfully talks about courting Bella, how he would have courted her had he been a true man in the time period he was familiar with, and why marriage to him is so very important.

That Edward doesn't seek out the approval of Charlie, Bella's father, is a hilarious aside to me. Edward's all about chivalry until all those old society standards get in his way.

What do you mean a gentleman doesn't sneak into a lady's apartments in the middle of the night to watch her slumber unawares?!

Regardless, marriage is extremely important to Edward, especially in the context of sex.

Edward will absolutely not have sex with a woman who is not first his wife. He also will not marry a girl that society defines as underage, he will wait until Bella's legal and probably until she finishes her primary schooling.

This means Edward was never likely to have sex with her before graduation and certainly not before her eighteenth birthday.

Which, at the earliest, puts her past the New Moon birthday bash.

Edward and Bella Do the Do Anyway

But let's pretend they do it anyway.

I'd say the most likely scenario is after the birthday disaster. This is it, Edward knows he is leaving Bella forever, if he is truly noble then he will never see her again.

Certainly, he will never interact with her nor hold her in his arms. To Edward, this is essentially his last true night on Earth.

So rather than pull a partial D.E.N.N.I.S. system, Edward pulls the full D.E.N.N.I.S. system, he initiates the "I" he was previously missing, "Inspire Hope". Or, in this case, get laid for the first and only time in his life.

He sneaks in through her window. They make beautiful, passionate, tepid love so Edward does not crush her in the act, and as she sleeps blissfully in the aftermath he sneaks back out the window to never be seen again.

(It takes Bella a week to admit that Edward just hit and run. The Cullens aren't coming back.)

However, because Edward didn't actually point blank tell her what was happening, rather than hit her New Moon stage of depression, Bella's instead in denial.

The Cullens are coming back. What, Carlisle has a new job? No, that can't be right, they're coming back. Alice would never leave her without a word. Edward would never leave her without a word.

Jessica pats Bella on the back consolingly and is secretly glad that it's not her. She might have been dumped by Edward Cullen, but at least he didn't humiliate her the way he did Bella Swan.

Leaving without a single word, yikes.

Two weeks go by then Bella gets the flu.

In a single day, she's unable to keep down anything. Huh, that's weird. Very quickly, Bella has her tampon epiphany. Bella is not a virgin, she had sex with Edward, she's late, and she appears to have a baby bump.

Bella is carrying Edward's child.

There is no question of aborting the child. This is Edward's child, the only piece she has left of him, even without Renesmee's gift it's ride or die. Bella is delivering this child even if it kills her.

However, she has some immediate issues.

First, she's visibly pregnant, it's been only two weeks. That's not supposed to happen. More, Charlie is bound to notice sooner rather than later, Bella would like to avoid that, the stigma of teen pregnancy, as well as the inhuman complications that are sure to come along.

Second, there's inhuman complications. Bella can't just go to an OBGYN, not even a town over. She's carrying something half human, a doctor will poke around and find that out, and then Bella's blowing the secret.

Bella knows vaguely of the Volturi at this point, but not the severity of the law, it's more that she promised Edward she would never tell a soul.

Plus, a human doctor wouldn't be able to help anyway.

That leaves vampires.

Bella tries to call/email the Cullens. However, thanks to Edward, all their numbers are disconnected and all their emails no longer exist. Her "Alice, help, I'm pregannant" messages are sent to a void.

(Alice, meanwhile, thinks she's finally successful in blocking visions of Bella. At least Edward will be off her back. Without the cliff diving and Jake, Alice does not assume Bella has died/committed suicide.)

A brief internet survey also yields Bella no results, but it does get her a lot of vampire porn. Thanks internet.

Bella... starts to get worried.

She's getting more and more pregnant in a matter of days, Charlie is starting to notice that she can't keep anything down, and the Cullens aren't taking her phone calls.

Then, Bella has it, she remembers that weird baroque painting Carlisle had of him and those Italian vampire dudes: the Volturi. Conveniently named after the city they live in, Volterra, Italy.

Bella debates her options.

Edward told her that these are the guys who make sure that humans who know the secret disappear. Well, Bella is a human who knows the secret, that's bad. Also bad is that they eat people, Bella is a person.

On the other hand, Edward implied these guys are civilized and friends of Carlisle. That's... good? Bella isn't sure she's on good terms with the Cullens, given the whole abrupt leaving thing, but maybe they don't have to know that.

Bella debates with herself, tries to look up the Denali, and only finds the National Park. She has no idea where these guys even live, or what they even look like besides "blonde hot vampire", and she's short on time. Plus, they are close with the Cullens, so the Cullens probably did tell them "Ew, Bella, No Gross, Do Not Want".

Because the Cullens all hate her now.

Bella has some money saved up, and this is probably a one way trip, and if she doesn't go then... well, it's not looking good. Bella musters up her courage, tells Charlie some outrageous fib to explain why she's disappearing off the face of the planet, and books a flight to Rome, then Pisa, then a bus ride to Volterra.

Bella subsists completely on blue gateorade, this doesn't go well, and she vomits blue in the parking lot.

Regardless, she makes it, huzzah she is in Volterra. It's sunny out and there are no vampires. Bella wanders around the city and looks for the most vampire building she can find.

Luckily, she happens to be right, and it's the very central castle. Well done, Bella.

Bella walks in and spots a vampire. She also spots a receptionist, Bella is very confused. Never the less, Bella says the magic words, "I'm a... friend of Carlisle Cullen?"

Even though Bella doesn't have Aro's name (or any of the other Volturi for that matter), Carlisle's name does the trick. Anyone who works for Aro knows that name.

Color Aro intrigued, he will meet this pregnant woman! (Caius, meanwhile, votes that they eat her immediately out of spite.)

Well, Aro touches her hand and lo and behold she's scarily gifted. And she knows Carlisle, what a great day to be Aro.

Aro explains that everything's totally fine with her knowing the secret, it just means they have to turn her eventually, after she gives birth of course.

Bella stares at him numbly and wonders why Edward made this such a big deal if it was that easy.

Aro insists Bella start from the beginning, as in the very beginning of her life. This is weird, but Bella complies.

An hour later they get to the interesting part: Bella meets Carlisle (and Edward Cullen, Aro guesses). Aro gets to hear the whole, sordid, ridiculous tale of Bella and Edward's romance including the part where he fucked her and ran off into the night.

Aro is stunned.

He first apologizes for the Cullens behavior, they should absolutely not have abandoned her, and not turning her was completely irresponsible (what the hell was Carlisle thinking?)

He then gives the bad news, he... has never heard of anything like this.

You see, normal vampires don't have sex with humans. It isn't done.

Also, there's this thing called Immortal Children (Edward tell you about that, no? Well, he probably thought it wasn't relevant). That thing your carrying might not be a child capable of growth but an insatiable monster.

Or it could be the alien from Aliens.

There's no way to tell, really.

BUT NO NEED TO WORRY, BELLA, THEY WILL FIGURE THIS OUT.

Aro promises Bella his protection and a period of observation for the child. Bella's not sure she likes that observation part, but this seems like a pretty sweet deal otherwise.

As for what to do, well, Aro has to call in the foremost vampire medical expert. Sorry, Bella, but there's only one man for the job.

Aro sends out Demetri to find Carlisle.

Demetri shows up on Carlisle's doorstep, "Carlisle, old friend, Aro has need of you. Your son knocked up a human girl."

Carlisle blinks, blinks again, then does a thousand yard stare. My God.

Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, Edward is already on Victoria's tail. Carlisle tries to call him, to no avail, Edward isn't taking his phone calls.

Alice and Jasper are already on their trip to hunt down Alice's past. Plus, given the Volturi, they'd be unlikely to come anyway. Carlisle sends them a message.

Carlisle, Esme, Rosalie, and Emmett travel to Volterra to clean up Edward's mess.

And sure enough, there's Bella, very pregnant with a child that is very much not human. Carlisle dies inside, Rosalie's on a warpath that Edward would abandon his pregnant girlfriend to the point where the only place she could turn was human drinking vampires.

Rosalie takes it upon herself to leave Edward the world's angriest voice messages until he returns her phone calls.

Aro's delighted to see Carlisle again. Even if he does have a wife now. Also, Aro claims finders keepers for Bella, Carlisle's not happy about this and less happy that Aro points out that if Edward cared so much he wouldn't be absent right now, would he?

They figure out the blood drinking thing, Carlisle desperately raids a hospital to prevent Bella from being fed the leftovers of the Volturi victims. This likely doesn't work out for him.

At the last possible moment, Edward finally picks up his phone. He learns that all he's tried to accomplish failed spectacularly. Bella is pregnant with his demon child, is literally drinking blood, and is in Vampire HQ with the leader insisting she will be turned immediately after the C-section.

Edward races to Volterra and strides into the room demanding Bella be aborted and remain human.

Aro stares.

Carlisle awkwardly explains that Bella's too far along, it's too late now even if they wanted to, more she adamantly doesn't want to abort and never did.

As for Bella being human... Bella pipes in that she's cool on becoming the vampire part. Aro's a great guy. She then races to embrace Edward, he's come back, after all this time. And he's going to be a father, isn't that wonderful?

Edward loses his mind.

And because this is Edward, I have no idea what he'll do, only it'll be utter madness. This is my best guess.

To be a little more serious, he probably tries to abort the child anyway, he mercy kills Bella and the child, or Renesmee manages to get through to him.

Given canon, it's likely the latter. Bella is convinced that her and Edward's relationship is perfect.

Aro has no idea what to think of any of this.

[jablesjonah]

Five Reasons Kelly Stays (Ryan Howard x Kelly Kapoor)

Summary: Five reasons Kelly stays, even though she deserves, like, so much better. 

Warnings: None!

     1. He calls her ‘button’.

It’s late when it first happens. They’d just finished yet another evening of love making (Ryan hates when Kelly calls it that, but she does it anyway. He learns to tolerate it.) and Ryan is already nodding off at her side. He’s been so wrapped up in business school lately he can hardly keep his eyes open. Kelly’s grateful he still makes time for her, even if he has an ulterior motive. This time, though, it’s been particularly easy to pretend he’s there because he loves her. Usually, their evenings together are filled with passive aggressive remarks from Ryan and a whole lot of feigned ignorance on Kelly’s end. Lately though, he’s been softer with her.

Kelly’s not all the way sure why this is, but she’s grateful for it. Maybe it’s the exhaustion, or the stress from work making him somewhat grateful for Kelly- he knows now he could have it worse. Maybe he appreciates her now- if only a fraction as much as she appreciates him. Either way, she knows not to take it for granted. Sometimes she thinks things with Ryan change faster than she can blink.

So, it’s weeks of him looking at her a little softer, listening a little more, and even holding the door for her when they leave the office sometimes, all leading up to this one life altering climax:

She’s curled into his side (albeit at Ryan’s reluctance) when she mumbles the same thing she always does, a simple “goodnight, Ryan,” that she expects to go ignored. It almost always is. It’s only when she’s almost asleep that Kelly hears it.

“Goodnight, Button.”

It’s so out of character and Ryan’s so out of it that she’s not even sure she’s heard him right. But when she sits up she catches a glimpse of that smirk on his face, the one he saves for when he thinks no one can see, and she’s so excited there’s no way she can fall back asleep.

Everything in her itches to say something but she holds back. She knows how he can be. Kelly doesn’t want to ruin the moment or do anything to make Ryan wish he hadn’t gone so soft with her. So instead of bringing it up, she smiles wider than she ever has and snuggles back into his side, thinking about it until she finally does fall asleep, dreaming of Ryan doing something that really does ring true.

He calls her Button again tomorrow.

     2. He has good taste in movies

Night after night, Kelly subjects Ryan to a plethora of movies she swears will be good, and night after night, Ryan rolls his eyes. She swears she picks them for the plot, but they both know Kelly just picks a movie starring whatever guy she finds hottest at the time. So far, they’ve made it through at least half of Johnny Depp’s filmography, every Hugh Grant movie Ryan’s ever heard of, and Twilight, not once, not twice, but six times.

Kelly knows Ryan hates them. She knows he’d much rather be catching up on homework or watching a hockey game, but she also knows that Ryan hates to talk. These movies are a way to lessen the amount of conversation he has to put up with- to an extent, at least. Nothing is stopping Kelly from saying “Oh my god, he is so hot,” every five minutes. Sometimes she’ll add a “Ryan, don’t you think so?” and if she’s lucky he’ll play along. Most of the time, though, she’s met with a noncommittal grunt, but she’ll take it either way.

She would let Ryan pick the movies- if his taste ‘wasn’t so effing boring all the time’. For the first few months of their relationship, Kelly dictates every movie they watch, and Ryan accepts with minimal complaints. It’s only after Ryan asks her to watch Star Wars for the fifth time that she finally caves. When she does, she’s never been so shocked in her life.

“Oh my god, Ryan! Space romance? That’s, like, totally beautiful! You’re totally the Han Solo to my Princess Leia, right? He is so you. Am I like her? Oh my god, do you think I’m as pretty as her?”

And today must be one of the days she gets lucky.

“Of course you are. Prettier maybe.”

That’s enough to convince her that maybe Ryan’s taste isn’t so bad after all.

     3. He listens to her fashion advice.

When Kelly met Ryan, she thought he was a lost cause. His closet was full of cheap button downs (many of them with stains at the sleeves) and basketball shorts. His idea of dressing up outside of work meant a pair of baggy jeans and a long sleeve tee, and ‘treating himself’ meant spending a few extra bucks on a hoodie from K-Mart.

Now, if Kelly Kapoor could use any word to describe herself, it would be fashionable. How was she ever supposed to live up to her own self-imposed reputation if she let her man (though he refuses to refer to himself as such) look embarrassing? There would be no hope left in the world if Kelly Kapoor couldn’t keep her man in check.

Still, she knew when to push him and when not to, so she suffered through months of wrinkled shirts and oversized shorts before she ever even attempted to get him to clean up his act. It was little things at first, telling him here and there what color sweater she thought would bring out his eyes, how nice he’d look if he wore his pants a little tighter. Bit by bit, she got him to dress a little better, even if what she really wanted to do was go headfirst into one of those makeover montages she sees in the movies she loves so much.

The greatest change, she thinks, comes the evening they watch Spiderman for the first time (Kelly is fresh into her James Franco phase that week), when she gets the greatest epiphany of her entire life.

“Oh my GOD, Ryan! You should totally invest in a pair of glasses. You could be, like, sexy Tobey Maguire! And I could be like MJ- except, Kirsten Dunst is totally beautiful enough already, you know?”

She thinks he’s just brushed her off like he so often does and she tries not to let it get to her. The next time they go to the mall, though, she steps out of the Macy’s changing room and spots Ryan testing out different frames in the mirror in the corner.

And if he let her pick out which ones screamed Tobey Maguire-but-with-sex-appeal the loudest, nobody had to know but her.

      4. He writes poetry.

Kelly doesn’t understand why Ryan doesn’t talk a lot. Most of the time she thinks it’s because of her, but it doesn’t really bother her. She’s used to talking enough for other people and doesn’t mind filling the spaces where Ryan doesn’t seem to have much to say. Still, she can’t help but wish he’d tell her what he’s thinking sometimes, even if the few times he does it tends to hurt her feelings.

One night though, she’s up watching the latest episode of American Idol when Ryan dozes off on the couch next to her. He’s got his laptop in his lap, and Kelly just assumed he was working on something for business school. But when she moves to cuddle up to his side (the only time he can’t argue about it) she sees he wasn’t doing homework at all. He was updating his blog.

She knew Ryan had wanted to start a blog for a long time, and even remembers him mentioning once about how he was asked to help Creed create his own, but it never crossed her mind to ask if he had ever gotten around to it. Now that she knew, there was no way she would forget.

From what she can see, this wasn’t just a normal blog. When Ryan brought up creating one she assumed he’d use it to write about his life or review movies or something. She never thought he’d be using it to write poetry.

Kelly slowly and carefully pries the laptop from his sleeping clutches and scrolls through post after post of Ryan’s own original poetry. Some of it, she guesses, is about her, but a lot of it isn’t. Instead, most of it is comprised of musings about different things, like flowers and snowfall and even things as simple as paperclips, definitions and metaphors stretched out into almost as many words as Kelly can fit into a single conversation.

She wonders if this was why Ryan doesn't talk as much as her. If his thoughts always came to him in such a complicated way that he thinks she wouldn't get it. She wishes he'd have more faith in her than that. She would at least try to understand for him. When she's done reading, she slips the laptop back into his lap as discreetly as she can.

Kelly never brings it up and if Ryan ever knew she’d found out about the blog, he didn’t let on. Still, not bringing it up didn’t stop her from coming back to his blog later, copying down a series of poems he’d titled: The Beauty of the Rambling Girl.

She knows that one is for her.

5. He loves her too, even if he doesn’t admit it.

Contrary to popular belief, Kelly can tell when she’s not wanted. She sees the way people’s shoulder’s tense when she walks into a room. She is not oblivious to the many times people roll their eyes at her. Even Pam can’t remain completely stoic on Kelly’s most talkative days. The difference is, Ryan doesn’t try to hide it.

Kelly knows when she’s starting to annoy Ryan. He tells her when he’s had enough of a conversation, even if sometimes it’s a little too harsh. The fact is, Ryan is a compulsive liar, but his emotions never lie. She’s learned to read them like a book. It’s the only time she’s sure he’s telling her the truth.

Her ability to read him extends beyond his annoyance, even if he doesn’t realize it. She can tell the way his face softens when he hears her laugh. She can see the fondness in his eyes when he rolls them at her for calling Orlando Bloom hot one too many times.

She also feels the way he touches her, the gentleness he saves for when he thinks she’s fallen asleep, a hand carding through her hair when he’s still up doing homework (or secretly writing love poetry), or the pad of his thumb as he slowly traces the curves of her face. It takes everything in Kelly not to smile in these moments- not to let on that she knows. She’s onto him, no matter how many times he pretends to be uninterested or pretends he’s not listening.

Ryan is smitten with Kelly, just as she is with him, and that thought alone is enough to make her want to stay forever, make her smile when no one’s looking, make her dance alone in her room.

He might be a liar, a thief, an all-around jerk, and a little bit of a cheater, but he LOVES Kelly Kapoor. She thinks an I told you so will be waiting on the tip of her tongue for the rest of her life, because that’s how long she plans on staying.

[authenticcadence18]

Ice Cream and Dances Pt. 2: Electric Boogaloo

Summary:

In an unprecedented turn of events, Isabella finds herself at the annual Night of the Falling Stars Dance with Phineas—JUST Phineas—after he shows up to her house with a tub of ice cream and asks her to go with him.

But it’s not a date! Phineas definitely, totally, 100% invited her as a friend. Nothing will convince Isabella otherwise.

....nothing, that is, except perhaps a conversation with (and subsequent dare from) another bully-turned-friend of hers.

...

This is a continuation of FrsdGirl’s Ice Cream and Dances! PLS go read it before reading this fic!!!!

...

Isabella had what one might call a “love-hate relationship” with Danville’s annual Night of the Falling Stars Girls’ Choice dance.

(Well, it wasn’t really a “Girls’ Choice” dance anymore. The city council dropped that caveat from the title years ago. Now, attendees were encouraged to invite anyone they pleased to the dance, though its former name stuck sometimes.)

On one hand, she loved going every year and sharing at least one dance with Phineas, indulging in sweet butterflies and smiles for a few precious minutes as they stood together and swayed to the rhythm before being jolted back to reality when the music ended and she couldn’t think of a good excuse to stay in his arms without admitting her feelings for him.

But...on the other hand….thinking about the dance reminded her that she’d never actually gotten to attend it with Phineas. Like, yes she always literally went with him….but Ferb always went with them too. They all went together. As friends. Always as friends. Just friends.

This year was no exception, even if it was a bit more exceptional than usual.

As Isabella walked at Phineas’s side in the twilight, she kept reminding herself of that in an attempt to slow her racing heart.

“Isabella. This is a friend thing. Which is fine. Just don’t get your hopes up.”

And yet....it was hard for Isabella to not get her hopes up.

Because she couldn’t forget Phineas showing up at her door with a gallon of ice cream and a sweet note, couldn’t forget him asking her to go to the dance with him (even if it was in a platonic way), couldn’t forget holding his hands and daring to sit fairly close to him for a while before they finally left her house…...

He’d actually asked her to the dance. Just her. That had never happened before.

...but he’d also asked when she wanted to walk over with him and Ferb earlier. And Ferb had removed himself from the situation (for her benefit, no doubt). Phineas had nothing to do with his absence.

So this was still assuredly a friend thing. Isabella had to remember that.

She dared a glance at Phineas. He was staring down at the sidewalk with his eyebrows furrowed, seemingly lost in thought.

He was probably brainstorming a new invention, or perhaps thinking of ways to improve the StarGazer3000.

Isabella couldn’t help but smile at that thought...because that was definitely the Phineas Flynn she’d fallen in love with.

...

Isabella squirmed at the sensation of everyone’s eyes glued on she and Phineas as they crossed beneath the banner announcing the “13th Annual Night of the Falling Stars Dance.” They were a bit late, since they’d spent a good bit of time just sitting together before finally heading off, so their entrance garnered a lot of attention.

Everyone would’ve stared at them regardless, of course, since Isabella’s crush on Phineas (that she swore up and down was a thing of the past, though she knew deep down it wasn’t) was more or less common knowledge among the rest of their friends at this point.

But she pretended they weren’t staring because there was nothing to stare at. She and Phineas were here as friends, plain and simple.

If anyone asked, that’s what she’d say.

...

So far, the night was proceeding as it usually did.

Phineas took a few minutes to examine the Stargazer 3000 and chat with Ferb about how things were going so far, which was normal. Isabella used this time to say hello to Ferb before wandering off to catch up with a few friends (and vehemently insisting she was NOT here with Phineas on a date when they asked).

(If she’d glanced back at Phineas, she might have noticed him vehemently insisting something similar to Ferb.)

Phineas approached her as the music died down and stars began streaking across the sky, leaving trails of light in their wake. After admiring the display for a moment, the two of them closed their eyes to make wishes, as was customary.

(Thankfully, they hadn’t missed this portion of the event.)

Isabella made two wishes each year. (Which might have technically been against the rules, but who was going to know?)

Her first wish always changed. Last year, for example, she’d wished for her soccer team to win an upcoming game, and the year before that, she’d wished for Nosh Ole’s grand opening to go smoothly.

These wishes only ever had one thing in common: they never had anything to do with Phineas.

That’s what her second wish was always reserved for.

After silently hoping that Ms. Lilith would go easy on her and her classmates on next week’s Chemistry midterm, Isabella took a deep breath and wordlessly made her second wish.

“I wish Phineas and I were here as more than friends.”

She knew wishing wouldn’t make said wish any more likely to come true.

But it felt good to wish anyway.

If only she knew how similar Phineas’s wish was to hers....

Isabella opened her eyes and glanced at Phineas as the music started back up....only to find him gazing right at her, eyes soft and lips curved upward in a gentle smile.

A whirl of butterflies tumbled through her stomach, cheeks flushing bright pink.

How long had Phineas been looking at her like that?

...did Phineas often look at her like that when she wasn’t looking at him?

“UH!!!”

Phineas blinked and took a quick step back, startling the question out of Isabella’s mind (though the butterflies were not so easily chased away).

“Uh! I was just wondering, uh...do, uh, do you want to dance now?”

He held a hand out towards her before snapping it back and rubbing his ear.

“Uh, well, we don’t HAVE to dance together, it’s just—we usually do, I guess it’s kind of a tradition at this point, so uh, I thought I’d go ahead and ask…..but there’s no EXPECTATION for you to dance with me or anything, um….we can do whatever you want to do.”

“Phineas.” Isabella chuckled and grinned at him. “Of course I want to dance. I mean. It...it’s tradition, after all! Right?”

Phineas just glanced at her for a moment, eyes wide…..and then he grinned, the same bright, enthusiastic, eager grin Isabella had been pining for since grade school.

(Even if this was just a friend thing, she could appreciate his enthusiasm.)

“Right!” Phineas agreed. “Tradition!!”

And so Isabella and Phineas made their way to the dance floor, found a vacant spot amidst the actual couples, held one another at arm’s length, and commenced swaying platonically.

(It was TOTALLY platonic. 100%.)

...

“Heyyy, Dinnerbell! Mind if I cut in?”

Isabella flinched at the verbal intrusion of her time with Phineas.

They’d been “swaying platonically” and making small talk for a couple of songs now.

It was fun—spending time with Phineas was almost always fun—but also a little awkward. Because Isabella couldn’t forget the way he’d looked at her a bit ago, couldn’t forget her wish….

She glanced over Phineas’s shoulder and made eye contact with the interrupting party.

Said interrupting party, one Buford Van Stomm, waved in response and cracked a grin that resided somewhere between amused and encouraging.

Phineas glanced between the two of them, took a deep breath, and stuttered, “Uhhh of course I don’t mind! I mean, um, it’s up to Isabella anyway.”

He stepped away from her, snapping his arms against his sides.

“Do, uh, do you want to dance with Buford, Isabella? Because I was thinking of grabbing a snack anyway, so, uh…”

That was a great question.

It didn’t take long for Isabella to think of an answer.

“....sure!” she replied. “Why not?”

“Alright then, have fun!”

Phineas gave she and Buford an awkward wave before hurrying over to the snack table.

And, strangely, Isabella was almost relieved to see him go.

“Well then. Shall we dance, girlie?” Buford asked with a grin.

Isabella rolled her eyes and smirked as she placed her hands on his shoulders. “We shall.”

...

Dancing with Phineas was like dancing on eggshells. It was a breath of frigid air in the middle of winter, or the warmth of a scarf around her neck, warmth that could evaporate at any moment in a rogue gust of wind. It didn’t matter if the music they were dancing to was loud or soft, didn’t matter if they were giggling as they bounced in time to an upbeat tune or holding one another and gently rocking back and forth to a slow one: she’d always get butterflies in her stomach when they danced together. Just being near Phineas was exhilarating and terrifying and lovely and exhausting all at once.

Dancing with Buford, on the other hand, was comfortable, friendly, like a warm summer breeze. There were no questions in her heart, no longing facial expressions to mask, no worries about what he’d think of her if she accidentally stepped on his feet (because he seemed to have made a habit of purposefully stepping on her feet), no butterflies. Dancing with Buford wasn’t even really dancing, to be frank. They mostly just stood in place, tapped their feet to the music, and talked.

Though she already missed holding Phineas in relatively close proximity and feeling the warmth of his shoulders under her fingertips, it was nice to have a break from the butterflies and eggshells.

“Sorry if I interrupted anything ‘romancy’,” Buford said with a shrug. “I just couldn’t help noticing that you and Dinnerbell looked a little….awkward. Thought you guys might need a break. Plus, we haven’t hung out in awhile!”

“Heh, awkward is right……” Isabella managed a dry laugh. “You didn’t interrupt anything, not really. And I DID need a break, thanks for noticing! I was about to fall over, I was getting so jittery.”

“Happy to help!!” Buford replied with a grin. “Sooooo….what’s up between you guys, anyway?”

He gestured in the general vicinity of the snack table, where Phineas was hunched over his phone, thumbs flying across the screen, and continued, “I saw you walk into the dance together….are you here, like, you know…. together together??”

Isabella let out a sigh. “No, we’re just here as friends,” she replied quietly. “I mean, I’m happy to be here with Phineas at all, don’t get me wrong! But when he asked me to go with him, I knew he meant it as a friend thing…..”

Buford stumbled a little and gaped at her.

“Waaaait wait wait he actually asked you to the dance? Just you??”

“Well, yeah, he did. But as friends.”

“How do you know he meant as friends?”

“Because I asked him if we were going as friends. To clarify. I had to be sure. And he said yes. Hence, this is a friend thing.”

Buford stared blankly at her for a moment before shutting his eyes and grumbling something unintelligible under his breath. Isabella managed to make out the words “typical” and “so oblivious.”

“.....you know what I think?” he finally whispered.

“What?”

“You should test the waters.”

Isabella narrowed her eyes at him. “...meaning?”

“Get over there and see if this is really a friend thing or not.”

“ Huh?? ” Isabella jerked her arms back and frantically shook her head. “No way. I already know this is a friend thing.”

What was Buford thinking??

At this point, all pretenses of dancing together were apparently out the window. Buford crossed his arms and eyed her incredulously.

“Look. Let’s say you’d asked Phineas to this dance as more than a friend and he asked if you were going as friends,” he mused. “What would you have said in response?”

“Well obviously I would have said we were going as friends, it would’ve been awkward if I didn’t!” Isabella replied frantically. “I wouldn’t want him to figure out I have a crush on him if it seemed like he didn’t feel the same way!”

“So, maybe Phineas did the same thing!” Buford reasoned. “He meant to ask you as more than a friend but panicked and backtracked on that when you asked about it.”

“Nope, there’s no way that’s true.”

Isabella couldn’t entertain that possibility, as lovely as it was.

It would be DANGEROUS to entertain that possibility, to give in to hope.

“Buford...you know Phineas doesn’t like me like that…..” she whispered.

(It took all of Buford’s willpower to keep from revealing he knew Phineas in fact DID like her like that.)

“Well, whether Phineas wanted to ask you to this dance as more than a friend or not, I still say you should see what it would be like to be here with him as more than a friend.”

Buford gestured to the setup around them and continued, “What better place is there to dance between friendship and more-than-friendship than a literal dance??”

Isabella squirmed a little.

“.....you have a good point there.”

“Look.” Buford nodded towards the snack table. “Just go up to Phineas and, I don’t know, ask him something like, ‘What if we were here as more than friends?’ and see how he reacts.”

“WHAT??” Isabella shook her head vehemently. “I can’t do that!!!”

“Yes you can!!!” Buford assured her. “You’re Isabella Garcia-Shapiro! Mountain-mover! Wielder of ominous patch-related threats!! You can do anything!!!”

“Well, you got that right!” Isabella replied, a hint of pride in her voice. “But...but this is different from moving a mountain. I just...I don’t know….”

“Hey…” Buford placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and gave her an encouraging smile. “If he reacts badly, just tell him I dared you to ask about it. Put the blame on me.”

(He knew Phineas wouldn’t react badly, of course. But he also knew he’d never be able to convince Isabella of that.)

“....wait…..”

A competitive spark prickled in Isabella’s gut, momentarily chasing any jitters away.

“...ARE you daring me to ask him?” she whispered

“....you know, now that you mention it...yes, yes I am.”

Buford took a step back and pointed at her with a grin. “I dare ya to ask him. I DOUBLE-dog dare ya to ask him.”

Isabella spent a long moment just looking at Phineas (who was far too engrossed in his text conversation to notice).

She wasn’t one to turn down a double-dog dare.

And...even without the dare…..she had to admit Buford’s plan was pretty foolproof.

She really wanted to be here with Phineas as more than friends, and now she had the opportunity to make that desire a reality. (AND the opportunity to back away from it if her question backfired.)

“....I guess I’m going to ask him, then.”

...

“Hi, Phineas…sorry about that.”

“Huh??” Phineas jumped and hastily shoved his phone into his pocket. “Oh! Isabella, there’s nothing to be sorry about. Buford’s our friend, just like we’re friends! You don’t have to apologize for spending time with another friend.”

“Well, yeah, but….” Isabella took a deep breath and inched a little closer. “....I came here with you… I want to spend time with you, especially you.”

She inched even closer.

“And, uh...speaking of being friends and spending time together, uh…..I was just wondering, uhm….what if we WEREN’T here as friends?”

There. She was off to a good start.

Phineas’s eyebrows shot up.

“What? You don’t want to be here together?? I...I mean, it’s alright if you’d rather part ways, hang out with other people—“

….okay, maybe she wasn’t off to a good start.

“No, Phineas, that’s not what I meant!!” Isabella elaborated quickly. “I’m having tons of fun with you, promise! What I mean is...uh…..”

Her face was practically on fire at this point, but she forced herself to finish her sentence.

“.....what if we were here together as, like…. more than friends?”

Phineas’s face flushed bright red, eyes practically popping out of their sockets.

“....more than friends?” he squeaked.

Isabella clenched her eyes shut and winced, wishing she could go back in time to a minute ago and ask Phineas about what snacks he’d sampled instead of proposing a change to their entire relationship dynamic out of the blue.

Because now he was embarrassed and SHE was more than embarrassed and she’d made everything awkward and she really needed to fix things before they got worse.

“I—I’m not saying we’re here as more than friends!!” she stammered. “I’m just, uh, thinking hypothetically here. I’ve never been to a dance with a...more than a friend…. I was just wondering what it would be like. If this weren’t a friend thing. That’s all.”

“Oh…”

Phineas blinked. He was still blushing, still looked quite flustered, which only made Isabella feel worse.

He was probably trying to think of the easiest way to excuse himself from this situation without hurting her feelings.

So, Isabella opened her mouth to salvage the night by recontextualizing her proposition as a dare from Buford.

But before she could get a word out….Phineas spoke. Quietly. (Which was a little unusual for him.)

“Well….if this wasn’t a friend thing, uh….I guess I’d want to hold your hand.”

It took Isabella a second to process what he’d said.

“.....you would?” she managed to whisper.

Phineas rubbed the back of his neck. “....yup…”

“Oh.”

“But! Uh!!! This is a friend thing, so! We don’t have to hold hands—“

“NO!!!!!!!” Isabella shot back.

She winced.

”Don’t mess this up, Garcia-Shapiro.”

“...I mean, uh! If this weren’t a friend thing, I’d want to hold hands too. So. We can hold hands. If you want.”

“....okay.”

Slowly, ever so slowly, Isabella reached out and grasped Phineas’s hand in her own before tentatively glancing up at him.

Phineas, meanwhile, stared at their entwined fingers for a few moments before finally meeting her gaze with wide eyes.

He looked a little awestruck and more than a little adorable and now he was smiling and ISABELLA NEEDED TO KEEP IT TOGETHER AND STOP WONDERING WHAT WAS GOING THROUGH HIS HEAD AND THINKING ABOUT HOW LOVELY HER HAND FELT HOLDING HIS.

“...this isn’t real….”  she reminded herself.  “No matter how real it feels, it isn’t real. This is hypothetical. It’s hypothetical. It’s wonderful but it’s just hypothetical nonetheless.”

The music in the air shifted, from upbeat and lively to slow and pensive and….maybe a little romantic?

“You know….if this wasn’t a friend thing….I’d say this was the perfect song to dance to...” Phineas pointed out, still smiling at her.

Isabella blinked. “Uh! And, and I’d agree with that assessment. Totally.”

“...uh, well...do you want to dance, then?”

Isabella took a deep breath.

She DID want to dance with Phineas, of course. But could she? Could she really pretend to pretend to dance with him as more than a friend?

(In other words, could she keep from revealing this “hypothetical more-than-friends” thing wasn’t hypothetical for her at all?)

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Buford flashing her a thumbs up from the dance floor.

Technically, she’d fulfilled the parameters of his dare.

But would she really be “testing the waters” (as he’d put it) if she backed out now?

“...yes...” she whispered, giving Phineas’s hand a squeeze. “Yes I do. Want to dance, that is.”

Because as nervous and uncertain as Isabella was...she was also excited.

And from the way Phineas’s eyes lit up at her reply, it seemed he was excited too.

...

Thanks for reading! I originally intended for this to be a one shot, but then I was like “...you know....I might as well split it up into chapters, why not?”

See you soon for part 2! And THANK YOU AGAIN FRSDGIRL ILY YOU’RE AMAZING!!!!!

[shimarin-chi]

Some more aro childhood/teen/early adult experiences (as experienced by me)

-You’re 8. You start watching and reading stories for older kids and pre-teens. The girls in those stories have/want boyfriends. You decide you also want a boyfriend. You get a crush on a boy -(You don’t know if it actually was a crush. You can’t remember what you felt back then anymore)  -You think about your crush sometimes. You never tell anyone in class (why would you?). You never try to get closer to him. You have a crush, and everything’s fine -You transfer schools. You stop thinking about him

-Your mother later tells you a different boy from your class used to like you. You’re not happy about that. It’s probably because he isn’t cool enough, you think

-You’re 10. You’re in a new school. A boy gives you a chocolate heart for Valentine’s day. You���re grossed out. He’s unattractive, hangs out with unpleasant company and his grades are bad. That’s why you don’t like him, you think. You try to avoid him after that.

-You’re 10. You have a crush on a classmate. He’s pretty and smart and popular and he’s a good dancer. You used to dance, so they put you in a pair with him for dance classes and have you dance together at events. You try to talk to him, even get him a card for Valentine’s day. You’re happy, you think.

-One day you and some other classmates are hanging out, and he starts making fun of you. He calls you a blind chicken and makes fun of your glasses. You try to pretend you never heard anything, so he calls you deaf as well. You walk away, heartbroken -You decide you don’t like him anymore, after this. You become friends with another boy and start dancing with him instead. You graduate grade school and stop thinking about your former crush

-You’re 11. You’re in a new school and in a new class. There aren’t a lot of boys in your class, and all of them are boring. You don’t think you want to get a crush on any of them, so you stop thinking about it. You’ve finally realised you’re too young for things like crushes and dating, anyways

-You’re 12. Your friend gets a crush on one of the boys in your class. You can’t see why, but you’re happy for her, you guess. They start dating, but he soon dumps her, saying he never liked her in the first place. Your friend stops talking about him, so you figure she’s moved on. -You’re 12. You, the aforementioned friend and another girl make a habit of walking home together, parting near your house. Your friend’s former crush also lives in your house. She keeps trying to walk in the vicinity of her former crush and his friend -(Once you walked halfway to your house without running into the boys, so your friend insists you wait, and when you question her, she gets angry and walks back in the direction of the school alone. You don’t understand what’s going through her head at all)

-You’re 13. Your friend tries to recommend you "Twilight" and tells you about the 1st book’s plot. You decide you’re not interested. That’s not surprising: you aren’t really interested in romance books and romance movies. You think they’re boring, and you figure you’re not old enough to appreciate them yet -(Years later there’s another book recommendation. You take one look at the synopsis for "50 Shades of Grey" and can’t figure out why your classmates like this book. What’s so romantic about this?)

-You’re 13. One of your classmates tells you another classmate likes you. You don’t do anything about it: you don’t really like him, and anyways, he should talk to you himself if he really likes you. Your classmate is probably wrong or lying, anyways

-You’re 13. You run into your former crush on the bus. You talk for a bit, and you don’t see each other again -You tell your friends who he is. They start mentioning whenever they talk about crushes and boyfriends, asking if there are any new developments. There aren’t. You wish they would stop asking. They never do

-You’re 15. Your friends sometimes ask you for dating advice. You’re not sure why: you’ve never dated anyone. You think you’re too young, and besides, you don’t know many boys, so there aren’t many candidates -(You don’t think about liking girls until you’re 18 and find out that’s actually an option. You look back on your school years, decide that you’ve met enough girls that you would’ve had a crush on at least one by now, and figure out you’re probably straight. The fact that your last crush happened 8 years ago doesn’t faze you at all)

-You’re 17. A lot of the people in your year turn out to be dating. Quite often, they are dating each other, even. You never notice until someone tells you or they do something romantic in front of you -You worry a bit, that you don’t like anyone, but you brush it off. You’ll probably find someone when you start uni -(You try not to think about having to date and hold hands and kiss and... other things one has to do when they date. You’ll cross that bridge when you get to it)

-You’re in uni now. Your university major is in IT, so there are a lot of boys in your year. You still don’t like any of them. You don’t mind. It would get in the way of studying

- A boy comes up to you in the hallway. He’s older than you and in another major. He starts talking to you. He asks to be friended on social media. You’re uncomfortable, but too polite to brush him off. He kisses you on the hand when he leaves (You thought it would be a handshake, or else you wouldn’t have given him your hand). You can’t help but feel relieved -That boy keeps showing up and talking to you. You try to show him you’re not interested by giving clipped answers and looking uninterested. He doesn’t take the hint. He asks if he can kiss you on the cheek. You refuse -Your friends think you should be happy with his attention, asking you if you went out with him, if he’s attractive, and other questions. They still bring up your former crush. You’ve resigned yourself to it by now -The boy keeps trying to invite you to events, or just to hang out. You always refuse. You try to appear boring and standoffish. You even tell him he has no chances, but he persists. He tries to give you birthday presents. You are always afraid you will run into him in the hallways. You stop hanging out in the hallways you’ve met him in before -You end up changing your uni and your major for unrelated reasons. He writes a message asking where you are. You tell him you transferred, and then you ghost him. He gets the hint eventually -It still takes a couple years worth of birthday messages that you ignore In his last message, he says he hopes to meet you again, hopes that you feel at least something for him. You shudder when you read that message

-You’re attending your new uni. You’re not interested in dating, still. You are still blindsided whenever it turns out someone you know is dating. You figure you still have time. You try not to think about the future

-You finally know you’re aro. And you still can’t tell if any of your past crushes where actually crushes or not, but the last "crush” was more than 10 years ago, so you figure you’re in the clear -Your parents never said anything about you not dating. They haven’t even said anything about a future marriage, unlike the rest of your relatives. You think you’re safe. Then they offhandedly say something about what shirt your dad will wear to your wedding. You still don’t know how to tell them there probably won’t be a wedding, or that they probably won’t have any grandchildren, what with you being an only child. You try not to think about it, like you try not to think about everything else

(Inspired by a similar post I saw on my dash earlier. It kind of got away from me, so I guess it’s a bit of a personal vent post, too? I figured there’s no harm in posting this, anyways, even if not a lot of people can relate to this)

[crystalstar8]

Knights of the Night (ch 14)

Chapter 14

Ch 1, ch 2, ch 3, ch 4, ch 5, ch 6, ch 7, ch 8, ch 9, ch 10, ch 11, ch 12, ch 13, ch 14

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29139240/chapters/71536491

pairing: Jungkook x oc

genre: vampire au, college au, twilight, romance

word count: 

warnings: blood (obviously), kidnapping, child kidnapping, needles, France

notes: vampires, vampire au, college, college au, so many twilight references, blood, needles, kidnapping, children, homelessness, dance, ballet, flashbacks, romance, slow burn, probably no smut, idk yet tho, France, French things, attempted genocide, inaccurate French history, bisexual main character, @strawberriewithchocolate-blog @mozy-j  @daechwitad-2​ @zobadak​​

summary: Catalina starts college in a small town all the way across the country. She doesn’t know anyone and isn’t exactly looking for friends. She just wants to focus on dance. But when she meets fellow dance major, Jimin, and adventurous, fellow freshman, Jungkook, Catalina ends up discovering a whole new side to the small college town; one that is dangerous but oh so enticing…

(smut is alluded to in this chapter, so I apologize to any family members who may be reading this👀)

              Once everyone had arrived at the mansion, Taehyung called them all into the dining room, where he had laid out a beautiful Christmas feast. There was a beef roast on one end and a ham on the other end. Between the two were potatoes, greens, fresh bread, fruit garnishes and jams, and an assortment of other sides.

              “Tae tae! You really outdid yourself today!” Hoseok exclaimed as he pulled a chair out for his mother. His mother was in her seventies, a tiny and soft-spoken woman. Hoseok’s sister sat beside their mother. Catalina was only briefly introduced to them, only to learn their names and thank his mother for the necklace, so she made sure to sit across from them. Jungkook took the seat beside her.

              “I want to ask them if they know anything about Hobi’s past,” Catalina whispered to him. He nodded.

              “That’s a good idea,” said Jungkook. “He’s always been a bit suspicious to me. I mean, we’re surrounded by these ancient vampires who had no problems telling us about all the people they’ve killed in the past, but I’m honestly most worried about him. If Yoongi could tell his story, why can’t Hoseok?”

              “Exactly,” said Catalina. “That’s what I was thinking.”

              Once everyone was settled at the table and most of the dishes had made the rounds, Catalina looked over at Hoseok’s sister, whose name was Jiwoo, she remembered.

             “So, I heard Hoseok’s been telling you two about us,” said Catalina. “I hope all good things.”

              “Of course, all good things!” Jiwoo laughed. “He’s been gushing about his new friends non-stop. Every time he visits, he tells us about some new adventure. He said you and Jimin are really good dancers.”

              “We’re really good at ballet,” said Catalina. “But Hoseok tried to teach us his style and we kind of sucked.”

              “I’m sure he didn’t fare any better in ballet,” Jiwoo said.

              “Not really,” Catalina said with a wide smile. Then she leaned in and lowered her voice. “So, I’m curious. How much has Hoseok told you about how he was turned?”

              Jiwoo pressed her lips into a thin line, then said, “Honestly, not much. I know the entire experience took a huge toll on him and he had to drop out of college because of it. We’ve asked him about it many times, but he never seems to want to talk about. I think it’s painful for him to bring up the memory.”

              “Oh,” Catalina looked over at Hoseok, who was laughing hysterically at a story Jimin was telling. She tried to imagine what he went through that made him so unwilling to share his story.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

After dinner, the party retired to the ballroom, which definitely was a room Catalina didn’t know existed until now. She wondered how big this house actually was. She dreamed of just wandering around and exploring one day. Yoongi was sat at the grand piano at the end of the ballroom and began playing. Catalina knew he didn’t eat at dinner, she wondered if he was just waiting to come in here and play piano.

The ballroom wasn’t huge; it was the perfect size for a party like this. Crystal chandeliers lit the room and the music filled the air. Namjoon, his professor friend, Jiwoo, Jimmy K and Jin sat at the lounge in the corner of the room to chat, Jimin pulled a giggling Taehyung onto the dancefloor to dance, and Hoseok pulled his mother onto the floor to dance.

“May I?”

Catalina turned around. Jungkook was holding out his hand, a smile on his face. Catalina grinned and took his hand. He led her out to the dance floor and took her waist, pulling her closer.

Even after two dates and several weeks of officially dating, Jungkook still managed to make her blush when he held her close like this.

“I love this dress on you,” he said as they swayed to the music.

“Thank you,” said Catalina. “I had some inside information on you when I bought this. I heard you have a thing for red.”

“I do,” he said as he led her into a spin. “Did Jimin tell you?”

Catalina nodded and leaned in close to whisper in his ear.

“Just wait until you see what I’m wearing underneath.”

She heard his breath catch before he pulled her even closer. They glided across the floor, turning and swaying to the beat. When the song ended, Catalina felt a tap on her shoulder.

“Mind if I cut in?” Jimmy K asked Jungkook.

“I did promise to save him a dance,” said Catalina. She knew Jungkook wasn’t the jealous type, so she wasn’t surprised when he laughed and said, “Sure, why not?”

Jungkook left with a smile and a lingering hand on her bare back. Jimmy K swept her into a waltz as the next song began. She watched Jungkook take a seat by Namjoon, eyeing her with a dreamy smile on his face.

“You’ve got that boy completely wrapped around your finger,” said Jimmy K. Catalina giggled.

“I know,” she said. “Well, he’s got me too.”

“I can see that,” said Jimmy K. “I saw the little gift you left on his neck.”

Catalina laughed loudly at that and said, “You know what he said to me? He said, ‘you should get a collar for me next time’.”

Jimmy K raised an eyebrow and said, “Oh, that would make things interesting.”

“Certainly,” said Catalina. “I have my work cut out for me.”

“You can handle it,” said Jimmy K. “You’re a very capable woman.”

“Jimmy K, if you keep flirting with me all the time, you’re going to turn Jungkook into a jealous mess,” said Catalina. Jimmy K chuckled.

“I can’t help it,” he said. “I just have a flirty personality I guess. But I will stop if it makes you uncomfortable.”

“I just find it flattering,” said Catalina. “You’d have to ask Jungkook about it.”

“I saw you interrogating Hoseok’s sister at dinner,” he said, changing the subject abruptly. “I’m assuming you were trying to get some information on that suspicious bugger.”

“Yeah, ‘trying’ being the key word there,” Catalina said with a sigh. Jimmy K lifted his arm to spin her, then led her into a gliding sidestep and turn. “She barely knew more than we do. The most useful thing she told me was that the experience was supposedly very difficult for him and its painful for him to talk about.”

“Well, he could have just said that,” said Jimmy K. “Here I was thinking he was some kind of spy or he had some kind of murderous backstory.”

“Yeah, same here,” said Catalina. “It still doesn’t answer any questions, but at least it takes a little bit of suspicion off of him.”

“Well, if he ever goes off the rails and takes a nasty turn on you all, just give me a call,” said Jimmy K.

“What, are you some kind of vampire slayer?” asked Catalina, letting him drop her into a dip. “Why do you know so much about vampires and their history and stuff?”

Jimmy K winked and said, “That’s for me to know, darling, and you to find out.”

Catalina smirked and rolled her eyes.

“Ah, the mysterious, ruggedly handsome Jimmy K,” Catalina said, pretending to swoon.

“That’s right,” Jimmy K said with a smirk.

As the song ended, Catalina and Jimmy K parted ways. Catalina joined Jungkook at the lounge, sitting on the armrest of his chair. She draped her arm over his shoulder and gazed down at him. He was listening to Namjoon and Dr. Carlisle talk, but looked up at Catalina when she sat.

“What are you guys talking about?” she asked. Jungkook just smiled up at her and shrugged.

“I don’t really know,” he said. “Something scientific. How was your dance?”

“Heh, let me tell you, Jimmy K is a very mysterious individual,” she said, then leaned down to whisper in his ear. “I’ll tell you what he said later.”

“Please Yoongi-hyung! Do it for me!” Taehyung’s voice caught their attention across the ballroom. He was sitting on the piano bench beside Yoongi, begging him with big eyes and interlocked fingers. Yoongi seemed to let out a deep sigh, as his shoulders continued to sink for several seconds. That seemed to satisfy Taehyung, whose face lit up. He leapt from the bench and went to the wall where he adjusted the lighting to be a bit dimmer. Jimin watched all of this from the center of the dance floor as everyone else cleared away, retreating to the lounge.

Catalina’s eyebrows rose as Taehyung laid across the top of the grand piano. Yoongi began playing and Catalina recognized the tune immediately. To her surprise, Taehyung’s singing voice somehow fit the song beautifully, serenading an overly dramatic version of “A Thousand Miles”. Jimin doubled over laughing as Taehyung serenaded him, sliding off the piano and miming holding a microphone as he approached. Taehyung grabbed Jimin’s hands and led him into a dance as best he could with Jimin laughing so hard, face beet red. Taehyung’s smooth voice led the dramatic, slightly silly performance through the rest of the song. Once it ended, everyone stood up and applauded, Taehyung taking his bows. Jimin stood beside him, covering his face and still giggling.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dr. Carlisle left, along with Jin, Jimmy K, and Hoseok’s sister and mother. Catalina didn’t let them leave without trying to return the necklace, but she told her to hold onto it until next time. After thanking her profusely and watching them all out the door, the group went to one of the bigger lounges. Taehyung served coffee and tea and Hoseok and Namjoon brought in gifts – two thick envelopes decorated with bows.

“You guys didn’t have to get anything!” Jimin exclaimed.

“It’s nothing big,” said Namjoon. “Just tokens really. We haven’t had many friends outside of this house in a long time.”

“But we don’t have anything for you guys,” said Jungkook.

“You guys are broke college students!” Hoseok said. “Save your money!”

They laughed and finally let Namjoon hand a big envelope to Catalina.

“This is kind of from all of us,” he said. “It’s for you and Jungkook.”

Catalina opened the envelope and pulled out several things. A packet of paper depicted pictures of a beautiful forest in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, with waterfalls and trails. It advertised a beautiful cabin, rustic and modern. After reading the front page, she realized what it was.

“Reservations?” she said. “What is this?”

“Look what else is in there,” said Namjoon.

There were two other slips of paper behind the packet. Round trip plane tickets. To Detroit, Michigan. For the week of Christmas. Catalina’s jaw dropped. Jungkook took the packet from her and flipped through it with wide eyes.

“Namjoon, this is too much,” Catalina said.

“Well, it’s from all of us,” said Hoseok. “But it was mostly his idea.”

“The reservation is for the week after Christmas,” said Jungkook.

“So you can spend the first week with your mom,” said Namjoon.

“Oooh! That’s why you asked me if I was spending the holiday with my family,” Jungkook exclaimed.

“You’re not?” Catalina asked. Jungkook shook his head.

“I mean, my brother is coming home and we’re having dinner with my parents a few days before Christmas,” he said. “Which you’re invited to, if you want. I know we’ve only been dating for a short time but…”

“I’d love to go,” she said. “We’ve known each other for a while now and I’ve only seen your parents in passing. I haven’t even met your brother at all.”

“And then it looks like the day after our dinner, we would leave for this,” said Jungkook.

“Namjoon, all of you, thank you so much,” said Catalina. “This is so generous.”

“Yeah, this is really awesome,” said Jungkook. “Thank you.”

“It’s really no problem,” said Namjoon.

Taehyung then handed the other envelope to Jimin and said, “Open mine next, Jiminie.”

Jimin opened the envelope and gasped.

“It’s not until summer, and I understand if you don’t want to, because I know you’re wary around us, as you should be, but I’ve always wanted to try camping and I hear it’s really pretty there…”

“Taehyungie,” Jimin interrupted. His eyes were glittering with tears. “I would love to go with you. This looks beautiful.”

“Really?” Taehyung said. “You’re not afraid to travel with me?”

Jimin shook his head and stood up to hug Taehyung tight. “My lovely Taehyungie. I could never be afraid of you.”

When they broke apart, both of them wiping their eyes, Jimin sat back down and said, “Can’t say the same for the rest of you. Jungkook, Cat, I’m talking about you too.”

Everyone laughed and Jimin said, “Haha, yeah laugh it up. You guys are insane. Sneaking into a vampire den without telling anyone. The fact that you made it out alive is an honest to God miracle.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After cleaning up the party, Taehyung invited the three humans to stay the night if they wanted to, since it was already past midnight. Catalina and Jungkook explored a bit before choosing a guest room on the third floor, far away from everyone else. When Jimin asked them where their room was, Jungkook threw him an exaggerated wink and nothing else. Jimin had almost fallen over laughing.

Their room was big and dark. Thick blackout curtains covered the huge window against the right wall. The four-poster bed looked antique, with twisting posts and sheer curtains around it. The thick carpet was a relief under Catalina’s feet once she took off her heels.

“What did you and Jimmy K talk about?” Jungkook asked as he toed off his own shoes.

“Oh right. He asked about my conversation with Jiwoo,” said Catalina. “I told him what she said, and then Jimmy K insinuated that he may be some kind of vampire slayer.”

Jungkook’s eyebrows shot up. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah, he said something like, ‘If Hoseok ever hurts anyone, just give me a call’,” said Catalina.

“That’s so mysterious,” said Jungkook. “He knew about Alexandria the Annihilator too, which means he’s more familiar with vampire history than any of us.”

“Exactly,” said Catalina.

“Hm… well, we don’t have to talk about Jimmy K anymore,” Jungkook said, sidling closer to Catalina. “Thinking about what you’re wearing under this has been keeping me distracted all night.”

~ ~ ~ ~

The next morning, Catalina woke up before him. She went to the big window and opened the curtains, letting the sunlight stream into the room. The golden rays fell across the bed, bathing Jungkook in the morning light. Catalina admired her work from where she was standing; hickeys decorated his neck, chest, and thighs, and lipstick still stained his skin. His hair was tousled and his face was peaceful. Gorgeous. He was absolutely beautiful. Catalina couldn’t believe how lucky she was.

He said he loves me, Catalina thought with a dopey smile on her face, recalling the way he mumbled it into her skin last night, half asleep. I love this boy. So much.

[ka-za-ri]

34 and 11 please with Lucifer and Simeon.

So, I couldn’t tell if you meant Lucifer/Simeon as a pair or Lucifer and Simeon with the reader... sooo I just went with it. Took me a while to figure out how to write this with a good dynamic. A little bit of fluff, a little bit of angst, a lot of romance... I hope you like it! (unedited bc we die like heroes here) Gender Neutral Reader

_(:3 」∠)_

Part of the Two-Part Drabble Game Requests

Setting: Date gone wrong Quote: “Your hand is in my personal space. Not that I mind. Character: Lucifer and Simeon

It was supposed to be a cute little outing downtown with Simeon. It was supposed to be a well deserved break from your hectic life to unwind and spend some time with the guy you liked. It was supposed to be the perfect day out. Some lunch, some window shopping, maybe a stroll in the park and then watching the sunset together.

Supposed to be.

However, neither of you had been made aware of the festival being held in town that day. Instead of the usual bustle of a reasonably busy weekend, the streets were packed with crowds. Your senses were assaulted by all the sounds, smells and sensations that came with a festival. 

At first, you wanted to ride it out, pretend it wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be. However, Simeon could sense your discomfort with having to deal with so many people in one place at one time. “Let’s go somewhere else.” he suggested when he noticed the way you flinched at any remotely loud, sudden sound. 

You were more than happy to get out of the thick of things and to somewhere quieter. Simeon seemed to know all of the good hole-in-the-wall cafes and brought you to one of his favorites. Immediately, the warm wood finishing and the quiet chatter put you in a much more agreeable state of mind.

Simeon led you to a quiet corner of the cafe once your orders had been retrieved and placed his hand on top of yours. “Sorry I didn’t plan this day better.” he apologized, rubbing soft circles on the back of your hand. “I know how you are with crowds and I didn’t think to look…”

You shrugged, taking a sip of your drink and letting the familiar flavors take the edge of your frazzled nerves more. “It’s okay.” You reassured him. Though the date hadn’t gone as planned, you still got to spend some quality time with him. “I don’t think either of us really looked up if there was going to be anything going on downtown today. It’s neither here nor there.” 

He smiled softly, adoring how you were still so determined to be out and about with him despite usually being an introvert. It was a rare opportunity for both of you to have time to do anything like this. Simeon didn’t have the right words to quite express just how happy he was to just have time with you. “Well, since we’re here, I think I remember there’s a pa--”

“Simeon?”

Simeon stopped mid sentence when he heard his name being called. He looked around to see who the owner of the voice was and as soon as he saw who it was, he broke out in a wide grin. “Lucy? Is that really you? I haven’t seen you in ages!”

Simeon scooted his seat over to allow Lucifer to join in. You stared, dumbfounded at the sudden intrusion, but didn’t question it. The way Simeon beamed and grinned when he saw this person was an expression you rarely saw. It was likely best to leave things for the time being.

“It has been a while, hasn’t it? And who might this be?” 

“My partner!” Simeon stated proudly before introducing you to him. 

“A pleasure to meet you. Lucifer.” The stranger greeted smoothly before pulling up a chair to join you at the table. “I hope I’m not intruding on your date together.”

“Oh, no not at all.” 

It would have been rude to interject and tell him that he was intruding. You had to keep Simeon’s smile in mind. It was an expression you rarely got to see. He was usually so cool and collected, seeing him so animated was a bit of treat for you. For his sake, you didn’t want to cause a scene. Your initial date plans had been foiled anyway, it wasn’t like your day could get any worse, right?

“Lucy and I go way back.” Simeon explained. “At least two decades.”

“I think it’s a little more than that.” Lucifer chimed in. “And can you not call me that in public?” 

“Okay fine Lucifer.” Simeon corrected himself. “What have you been up to these past few years? I feel like we lost all contact after you quit your last job.”

“Ah, well…” 

What they had was a bond that went beyond what you could ever hope to achieve. The way they interacted and reminisced about the times they had together pushed a thorn of envy into your heart. They had all the time in the world and you had only ever occupied a fraction of Simeon’s life. It didn’t feel right to cut into their conversation as they reminisce over the past and caught up.

They pulled you into a life with them that you could never experience. The drink in your hand grew tepid as the hours went by and they continued to chat. It was almost as if you weren’t there, as if you didn’t matter. Despite being surrounded by people, it felt oddly lonely to be at that table with them. They were in their own little world and you could only imagine what it would have been like if you were with them.

For a moment, you were pulled out of the romantic moment you were having with Simeon to see him in a way you were never permitted to. This stranger and his stories about his life drew out an energy and a life no one ever got to see. It was an odd magic Lucifer had and you were equal parts grateful and envious of it. 

There was something that drew even you in. Lucifer had a way with words that had you entranced and falling in love with the world he built. You could understand how Simeon seemed to be so smitten with reconnecting with him. The stories he shared were mundane yet somehow so colorful, you could imagine yourself right there with him. It put you in a comfortable lull and you didn’t mind being so quiet during the time the three of you shared.

“So what brought you out to this side of town anyway?” Lucifer asked, turning to you for a change and dragging you into the conversation. 

You snapped out of your daze and blinked. Surely he was asking Simeon and not you; however, when you looked up at your partner, you were surprised to see that he too was looking at you, waiting for an answer. “Ah, well…” You laughed nervously, fidgeting with the empty cup in your hands. “We were supposed to be on a date downtown…”

“So I was interrupting something.” 

“Well, no. I mean, it was too crowded downtown so we left early.” You shrugged, pretending it didn’t affect you as much as it did. Having a whole day of plans ruined more than once weighed heavily on your shoulders. But, moving the focus to yourself was selfish and rude. After all, Simeon hadn’t seen Lucifer in years, you weren’t about to break up a long awaited reunion. “It’s not a big deal. It’s probably better that we ended up here anyway.”

Lucifer hummed, tapping his finger on the table and assessing the energy between all parties at the table. “Well, I apologize nonetheless for interrupting and usurping your time. Allow me to make it up to you both.” 

You learned quickly that Lucifer moved the world at his own pace and all in his wake were helpless in objecting his whims. He led the two of you out of the quiet cafe and onto the streets washed with the warm oranges of a perfect sunset. One of his hands held onto Simeon while the other near dragged you along to follow his impossibly quick gait. 

He moved with a grace and a purpose you wouldn’t have expected for someone traveling so fast. You stumbled, half jogging to keep up with him. You didn’t know if you should be worried about where you were being taken. Simeon’s cheerful laugh as he was being towed behind Lucifer seemed to at least bode well.

While the scenery flashed by you and all you could do was focus on keeping up with Lucifer’s long strides and purposeful direction. You could only hope that he wasn’t about to lead you to your untimely demise. While frantically trying to match his pace, you realized that you couldn’t deny how easily this man had injected himself into your life. The way he asserted himself and dominated the pace of the day had you a little bit infatuated with him. His life beyond the little tidbits he shared at the coffee table had piqued your interest and left you yearning for more of his stories. The backdrop of Simeon’s gleeful laughing only added to his allure as it seemed like this man was the only person in the world who could pull such strong emotions out of your partner.

By the time he let the two of you stop and catch your breath, you were greeted with a grand view of the town below you. If you squinted, you could make out the rough outline of the downtown buildings where your day had begun. The sun had just sunk past the horizon and twilight washed across the city. Tiny twinkling lights from the windows illuminated the darkened residential areas, bringing the night sky to earth.

Further, the distinct whistle and pop of fireworks went off where the festival was being held. You made your way over the railing at the ledge you had arrived at and leaned against it to get the best view of the show. “Oh wow, I didn’t know this place existed.” You breathed, admiring the light show.

“Hopefully it makes up a little for the awful date this has been.” Simeon apologized softly, he reached for your hand and squeezed it softly. “It’s been a bit of a flop, huh?” 

You giggled, it was impossible to be mad at him when he was so cute. Oblivious as he might be, you could forgive him for one terrible date. “Well, really, you have to thank your friend for saving it.” 

Simeon tilted his head and looked at Lucifer who had joined you at the railing and mouthed a quick thanks in his direction. Lucifer only shrugged, waving it off as if he did things like this on a regular basis. 

While they had their little silent exchange, you let your emotions stew. You were being unreasonably selfish wanting to keep Simeon in your life while also getting to know Lucifer better. The two of them had a chemistry you couldn’t deny and if all things didn’t work out in the end, you reasoned it would only bring them together while you made a graceless exit out of their lives. Perhaps it was the overall romantic ambience that emboldened you to go for it.

You tried to be subtle, but you were sure Lucifer was the kind of person who took note of everything that happened around him. Before you could reach out for him, you felt his fingers pull your hand closer to his, lacing themselves in between his own and securing your palm against his. 

“Uhm… Excuse me, your hand is in my personal space….” You paused, averting your gaze and trying not to be too flustered about it. “Not that I mind…” You mumbled the last part as the boom and crackle of the fireworks drowned out your words. 

One hand held the love of your life, the other held the hand of an alluring stranger who had an impossibly strong pull. Between them, you were torn and impossibly selfish, wishing you could have both in your lives. The show was dying down and before it ended, you knew you had to make a choice. 

“So, Lucifer.” You started, finally gathering up enough courage to look him in the eye. “How about you come over for dinner sometime?” 

“That sounds lovely, I would be honored to join you.”

Behind you, Simeon leaned to the side, catching his old friend’s eyes. He grinned from ear to ear, winking knowingly and squeezed your hand in reassurance.

Perhaps the date wasn’t a total flop after all.

[oneweekoneband]

meet me behind the mall!!!!!!!!!

I don’t know why Taylor Swift thinks that teenagers drink wine, and I don’t know why she chose to record and release a wistful high-school-other-woman song which left me feeling naked as a frog and therefore furious. Some questions we ask only so as to be soothed by the familiar sound of our own voice, still there after all. The answers are not coming. 

The Taylor Swift Teen Love Triangle Triad of “cardigan”, “august”, and “betty” is the part of folklore that makes me most bullish about where Taylor is going as an artist. A turn away from writing songs which are intentionally meant to appear confessional and toward, instead, songs which reveal the personal as refracted through fictitious circumstances and made-up characters is a better use of her big, weird brain, and allows that brain to be unleashed on a broader plain of experience. It’s incredibly embarrassing to be an adult woman with my own problems to manage and to have living in my head Taylor Swift’s demented YA fiction, but it’s an embarrassment that feels appropriate, like I could never really have escaped this fate. On “betty” she gets to play-act as a contrite teen boy who knows he’s done wrong, and while obviously the most charming thing about the song is Taylor saying “fuck” (and also her giving us a little of the ol’ razzle dazzle by way of some light twang), her experiment with imagining what it’s like to be a skateboarding kid who hates dances, trying on an imagined teen boy interiority as a costume, is effective too. 

“cardigan” is more removed, less plaintive and shouty. This is a song from adult Betty’s perspective looking back on this period in her life and in her relationship with James, who the song seems to imply she is still with now. While—full offense—I believe marrying your high school girlfriend or boyfriend is a disorder which should have its own listing in the DSM, restoring order by putting the original couple back together so as to make the story one of true love triumphing over adversity, rather than a series of sketches of kids doing fuckup kid things just because it is not easy to be alive and to be alive alongside others and with gentleness, least of all when you are very new at it,  is the only conclusion this saga could ever have reached with Ms. Swift at its helm, and I do appreciate the consistent, if baby-brained, internal logic. I’ve never known a teenage girl whose signature garment was a cardigan and, frankly, this Betty sounds like sort of a self-absorbed drip (I do love, love, how Taylor’s own voice comes through so clearly on the lightly threatening, smug lines, “I knew you’d miss me once the thrill expired / And you’d be standing in my front porch light” !!) so I’m not totally surprised she got cheated on, but that’s very uncharitable of me and probably comes from the same meaty polyp in my brain that is responsible for my still loving all the hilariously mean-spirited, woman-hating songs on Speak Now.

“august” is about the other girl. The “her” in James’ rather pathetic defense, “slept next to her, but I dreamt of you all summer long”. “august” tells a story that brings to my mind another story. It is a story I won’t belabor because it is neither exciting nor unique. It will not illuminate an unexplored human experience, as it is, in fact, incredibly boring, regular, an incident which would be at home in any normal Tuesday, ordinary as meeting at the mall. This is a million years ago and there is a boy whose basement I go to sometimes after swim practice. We have matching team sweatpants with our names embroidered above the pocket at the right hip and I like to switch pairs. I’m you and you’re me and when we have pushed and bent the tiredness out of our muscles together, making experimental declarations in hushed voices down there while the furnace groans, well, then I’m you and me and you’re you and me and we are we are we are. 

One February day at twilight I bound out of the school building with wet hair and a fleece jacket, but his car is already gone. No worries. Standing at my locker the next afternoon like in a movie he will say, easy as anything, that he has a girlfriend, a family friend, two towns over, she goes to private school. You’ve probably met her, he says. And right then I remember that I have. Last year I did her zipper in the bathroom at a dance. We were fighting but we never really broke up, he says. For months you’ve been fighting? is all I say back. Fighting since October? As if that matters. Like that’s the point. My voice is pinched and ugly and I know I’ll hear that sound forever. Well, anyway... I feel bad. He doesn’t clarify for whom he feels bad. He’s got one sneaker toe working against the other one atop the tile floor that’s the murky green of sea glass. He looks at my St Brigid’s cross necklace, at the blue Masterlock hanging open like a broken jaw, at someone in a hoodie who punches his shoulder as they walk by. Nothing personal, he says, and there is a tiny smudge of cafeteria pizza at the corner of his mouth that I hadn’t noticed until that second and a day ago would’ve reached up and wiped away with the pad of my thumb, laughing. I get it, right? Oh, sure. 

The worst of it was not skipping pre-calc to cry in the bathroom, since, I mean, I couldn’t actually do pre-calc and would never learn how, but was inspecting my soul in the dark when I couldn’t sleep that night and finding part of me had known this all along, had chosen to pretend, wanted the wanting so badly I’d knocked from my brain the truth of how it was going to end. This would not be the last false love from which I’d find myself unceremoniously discarded, and in time I’d learn to be the liar myself, too. It’s unseemly to pathologize bad decisions, to take on poor impulse control or self-destructive patterns as an identity, but I do think that just as some people are born serial monogamists, part of a twosome forever with very little mess in-between, some of us were built from the very first cell to live like a pool ball struck and banging teeth first into the wrong mouths and hearts. I can examine my romantic history and tap my finger against the obvious errors, the times I chose what I knew would hurt me, when I ascribed hope to situations where it did not belong, when I, like the narrator of “august”, regarded someone as not mine to lose but still put myself in the position to be harmed by the losing, yet I can’t produce alternative choices that feel realistic. If you are in love and it doesn’t work out, there is mourning, there is pain, but there is all the while a record which shows something happened, it was real. “august” stands somewhat apart in the Taylor Swift catalog as a song neither about the glory of true love or the heartbreak when it’s over, but about the small, paper cut heartbreaks that are inescapable during each day of an untrue love. “It was never mine”. When it turns out you were wrong the whole time, fooling yourself, then even remembering that you’d been happy in the lie is like being trapped in a fun house, body bent and broken in the mirror, a thing not built right for this world. 

“august” is about the girl who James was with over the summer, the girl he leaves to return to Betty. Taylor said it’s the first of the three that she wrote, and I fear this has warmed me to her in some new and unsettling way. I fear this means she’s matured as a person and writer, capable now of a more expansive view of situations, to be generous. It’s like how you shouldn’t feed gremlins after midnight; there is no telling what new and more dangerous creature this woman might turn into if she’s suddenly been taught empathy. When Taylor-as-James in “betty” sings, “Would you trust me if I told you it was just a summer thing?” in his effort to woo Betty back I hate him a little, that thoughtless child undeserving of the kind of adoration in lines like, “your back beneath the sun / wishing I could write my name on it.” I try to extend grace to this fictional boy, but I think of the “Do you remember? in “august” and I feel a little sick from being so certain that no... No, he doesn’t. Not really.

“Back when we were still changing for the better / wanting was enough / for me it was enough”. I’d like to think there is no last chance to change for the better. I’d like to think wanting is enough so long as you want the right thing. I’d like to think that God made sure Taylor Swift became a singer instead of a young adult novelist because the absolute last thing this world needed was this freak joining the circus that is YA Twitter. Most of all, I like thinking that Judy Blume knows that her beautiful, searing, devastatingly romantic and also textually gay 1998 novel Summer Sisters is the only important book that has ever been published, and, further, that the world will show me the respect of understanding and accepting that “august”, when removed from the context of the Swiftian child romance trilogy, sounds as if it were specifically written in homage. Taylor, I know I’ve accused you of at least fifty crimes this week alone, but if you want to talk about Summer Sisters, please get in touch.

[jaehyun-eclipsed]

Before I Met You | Twenty-One

Next Update: ~January 10, 2021

Pairing: NCT (Jaehyun, Lucas, Mark, Jaemin, Johnny) X Reader/OC

Genre: Romance, Angst, Coming of Age

Summary: Four. There were four people before I fell in love with you… Here are their stories.

Before I Met You Masterlist

Prev | Next

The following day, I woke up and began packing to go home for winter break. Jia had left early this morning to catch a flight back to Beijing, so I was left to my own thoughts about the upcoming lunch outing with Johnny.

I threw on some black jeans, a brown off-the-shoulder sweater, and black knee-high boots. I was finally able to go back to my norm of taking the morning to do my hair and makeup after showing up with minimal effort during finals week.

Yes, I wanted to look cute for this “date,” but I was also just happy to not look like I had just rolled out of bed before going out every day.

I meet Johnny in his room and walk out of the house together with Hendery who was on his way to the airport.

“What are you doing here, Y/N?” Hendery asks.

I’m taken by surprise because I thought Hendery knew Johnny and I were hanging out today, but quickly realizing that Johnny didn’t mention it, I’m not sure how much to tell him.

“Oh, um, Johnny and I are just hanging out today. I think he needs to drop off a book and then we’re gonna grab some food.”

“Oh.”

We wish Hendery goodbye, parting ways as he gets onto a bus heading to the airport. I follow Johnny to drop off his book and afterwards, we opt to grab lunch at my favorite Korean place near campus. The restaurant is basically empty midafternoon with the exception of a few students celebrating the end of finals.

“So, you’re not seeing anyone?” Johnny asks.

I shake my head. “No.”

“Why not?”

Because I’m me. I get involved with people that seem to have weird issues and the person I’m currently interested in has a girlfriend, and yet, I’m still hanging out with him.

Shrugging, I press my lips together before finally saying, “Haven’t found anyone I’m interested in, I guess.”

“What are you looking for then?”

“Someone respectable and smart. Someone I can talk to about anything,” I say. “Someone who isn’t going to have a problem with me having guy friends.”

“Having guy friends?” He quirks an eyebrow. “That sounds so specific.”

“Believe me, when you have guy friends whose girlfriends hate you, you learn quickly that you’ll need to find someone that doesn’t have severe jealousy issues.”

“Your guy friends’ girlfriends hate you?”

“Something like that.”

Johnny scrunches his face in confusion. “Why?”

I shrug. “I suppose they see me as a threat. Not really sure why. It’s not like I want to date their boyfriends.”

At least, that’s been true until now. Though, it’s not like I’m going to do anything to actively steal him. None of this, “you should leave you girlfriend and be with me.”

“My girlfriend doesn’t want me to have girl friends,” Johnny says.  

“Oh.”

I wonder why. If I knew he acted like this around other girls, I guess I might understand.

“Does she not trust you around other girls or something?” I ask.

Ah ha. That was a loaded question.

“I guess so. She talked to all her friends and they said the same thing: boyfriends shouldn’t have any other girl friends besides their girlfriend.”

“That’s kinda…” —I grimace— “I don’t know how I feel about that. I feel about that. As long as you aren’t flirting with other girls, then I don’t see why you shouldn’t be able to have other girl friends.”

“That’s what I said!” he exclaims.

Except, I’d argue that you are flirting with other girls, but that’s none of my business.

“Does she have other guy friends?”

“I don’t know. She says she doesn’t.”

I turn away briefly, hoping he doesn’t notice my look of skepticism. That sounds like a lie.

“Does she go here?”

“No, she’s going to a community college in Santa Clara. She’s trying to transfer to a CSU in SoCal.”

So that’s why we never see her around.

“How long have you been dating?”

“Almost two years.”

“So you met in high school?”

“Yeah, she went to a different high school, but my friend introduced me to her and we used to meet up to study a lot during the school year.”

“Oh that’s nice. Do you see her often?”

“Like every few weeks when I go home or during breaks,” he says. “Do you want to see a picture of her?”

“Sure.”

Johnny pulls out his phone and shows me a picture of the two of them at a park. She’s decently pretty—a six and a half at best—but nothing particularly special.  

My eyes narrow at him as puts his phone away and begins looking through his menu. Maybe he’s not trying to hit on me if he’s being so open about his girlfriend? But that doesn’t explain everything else that’s happened unless he’s just naturally flirty. I highly doubt that.

“I think I’m going to order bibimbap,” he says to me, putting the menu on the table.

I nod in acknowledgement. “I’m going to order the sundubu-jjigae. It’s cold out.”

“Do you want to do anything afterwards?”

His question catches me off guard. After learning more about his girlfriend and seeing how comfortable he is talking about her when prompted, I’m surprised he wants to continue hanging out. But perhaps this really just is a friendship.

“Was there something you wanted to do?” I reply. 

He shakes his head. “What’s your favorite place around here?”

“Um, there’s a bookstore I like that’s a few blocks from campus…”

“Great! Let’s go there afterwards!”

After finishing lunch, we make our way to the south side of campus, surprised to come across a small street fair on the same street as the bookstore. The booths are decorated with fairy lights, creating a very cozy and romantic atmosphere at twilight. We browse the novelty soaps, keychains, and various trinkets briefly before squeezing through two booths to get to the bookstore.

“What kind of books do you like to read?” Johnny asks, trailing behind me as I browse a recent release table.

“Mm, mostly young adult fiction leaning towards the adventure side. I like dystopian novels. You?”

“I like reading nonfiction. I don’t really like fiction.”

“That’s a shame.”

I grab a recent release and begin flipping through it.

“Oh what’s this?” Johnny asks from behind me.

As soon as I turn around, a brown dog puppet is two inches from my face. Johnny is smiling down at me and moving his hand inside the puppet to make the dog look like it’s talking.

“Hi Y/N, my name is Coffee Bean! Will you read me a story?”

My mouth is agape in amusement, part of me unsure how to respond. I chuckle nervously and put down the book in my hand, and quickly scan the table next to me for the closest children’s book.

“Um, do you like If You Give a Mouse a Cookie, Coffee Bean?”

Coffee Bean nods his head enthusiastically. “Yes! Woof!”

I force a nervous smile, still uncertain as to how to respond to this other than to play along. I read a few pages of the book and look up at Johnny. “Do you really want me to keep reading?”

He laughs. “No, it’s okay.” He turns to Coffee Bean. “Did you like that Coffee Bean?”

“Yes!” Coffee Bean turns his head back towards me and presses his mouth against my cheek. “Thank you!”

I smile at him and begin walking towards another section of the store. That was weird. Cute, but weird. Sighing heavily, my mind flashes back to our discussion earlier about Johnny’s girlfriend. He clearly was very comfortable talking about her in front of me. Realistically, it probably would’ve been better for me to completely drop the idea of the two of us ever dating and stay away from Johnny because I didn’t want to get in the way. I’d certainly never want my boyfriend to do something like this.

Y/N, you are going to get hurt if you continue to hang out with this guy. This never ends well when you get involved with a guy who’s already in a relationship. He’s obviously not going to leave his girlfriend. And even if he did because he wanted to date you, wouldn’t it be a bad idea? He could do the same thing to you.

Johnny suddenly appears next to me. “So, it’s six o’clock. What do you want to do? You want to watch a movie?”

I blink several times, surprised yet again by Johnny’s continuing desire to hang out today. Most of everyone at the house has left, so I suppose it only makes sense. If we went back to the house and parted ways, there wouldn’t be anything for us to do on our own. I’d probably just sit in my room and watch a movie by myself.

“Sure… I guess. What do you want to watch?”

“Didn’t you mention that you recently watched some movie… Sally something?”

My forehead creases. “You mean, When Harry Met Sally?”

“Yeah! Let’s watch that!”

What? He wants to watch a rom-com?

Okay, movie and that’s it. You shouldn’t hang around him anymore and after today, you won’t even need to see him.

“Okay then. We can watch in the piano room,” I say. “I don’t have an HDMI cable to hook up to the TV, but the couches are comfy.”

He hums in thought. “Can we just watch in your room? It’ll be more comfortable.”

Um, there must be something about a guy wanting to hang out alone with you in your room to watch a movie, right?

“Like, we sit on the bed?” I ask.

“Yeah.”

I bite the inside of my lip. “Okay.”

“Okay! I’ll bring snacks!”

“This is my blanket now!” Johnny grabs my fleece blanket and stuffed dog off my bed and begins hugging it. “This is mine now too.”

He jumps up onto my bed and crawls into the corner, wrapping himself in the blanket and hiding the plush underneath. He cracks into a wide grin and I can’t help but begin to pout a bit, feeling rather protective over my stuffed toys.

“So what do I get?”

“I brought pistachios and cookies,” he says, gesturing over to the snacks he placed on my desk. “You can have those.”

I glance at the packages and then turn back to face Johnny, dissatisfied with the consolation prize. I pout again. “But I’m not hungry. I’m cold.”

“Hmm,” he hums, pretending to ponder as he holds a playful smile on his face. “Okay, I guess I can share with you.”

I scoff in amusement. “Share? That’s mine!”

A cheeky grin makes its way onto his face. “You said you were cold. It’s easier to stay warm if the blanket is already warmed up!”

I roll my eyes and bite back a smile as I go to set up the movie on my laptop. Slowly, I make my way onto my bed and Johnny trades me my laptop for my blanket. I make no comment as I wasn’t keen on sharing my blanket in the first place anyway.

Before leaning against the back wall, I turn to look at him. “Do I get my dog back too?”

He smiles and shakes his head. “No, I think he likes me better.”

“Okay, fine,” I say, letting out a huff and crossing my arms as I move to sit up against the wall.

Our arms are touching, which is to be expected since we’re attempting to share a twin-sized bed. I’m a bit distracted, not really focusing on the movie, but rather on the predicament I see myself in. Clearly, Johnny has no problem with taking my personal belongings or sharing a bed with me. Originally, I thought we would sit up against the wall length-wise, giving both of us plenty of space not to make any physical contact with each other. But instead, Johnny had other plans and also wanted to use my pillows. So here I am, watching a rom-com with a guy that I happen to like and find very charming, is very kind and playful, but I am very uncertain as to where I stand.

After a while, Johnny hands my dog back to me and I pretend to be unfazed by the famous fake orgasm scene in the movie. What an awkward thing to watch with a guy I barely know.

When the movie ends, I shut my laptop and hop off my bed to put it back on my desk. Johnny crawls over to the other end of the bed, lies on his side and hangs his legs off the foot of my bed. I seat myself back against the wall and pull out my phone.

“So now what?” I ask.

“Um, you said that you’re good at giving advice, right?” Johnny responds.

I lift my head up from my phone and turn to look at him. “Uh, I mean, my friends ask me for advice a lot. So maybe?”

It’s quiet for a moment as Johnny contemplates whether to ask me for advice and how to formulate his question. My thumb scrolls through Instagram, though my mind is somewhere else as I wonder about what Johnny could want advice on. Life? Career? School?

“I’m not really sure what to do about my girlfriend,” he finally says.

That’s not… that’s not what I want to talk to you about.

“What do you mean?” I ask, keeping my gaze on my phone. 

“I’m… not really happy with her.”

I swallow nervously. “Why not?”

“You know how I told you earlier that she doesn’t like me having girl friends?”

Can’t imagine why.

“Yeah?”

“It’s stuff like that. She gets upset with me and it’s hard to talk to her. She doesn’t really apply herself in school and doesn’t have a lot of ambition.”

I keep my facial expression neutral, but I’m already not impressed with this girl.

“Just out of curiosity, what do you parents think of her?”

He shrugs. “My dad doesn’t care and my mom keeps asking me when I’m going to get a doctor or lawyer girlfriend.”

“Sounds like your mom doesn’t really like her.”

“Well, my mom likes her, but…”

“She wants you to find someone she thinks is better,” I say, finishing his sentence.

“Yeah,” he admits sheepishly.

Yeah, so basically she doesn’t like your girlfriend.

“What’s her name?”

“Minji,” he responds. “We’ve already broken up twice.”

God, he sounds like Siwoo.

“Why?”

“Because she didn’t like my friend Hyoyeon.”

“Who’s she?”

“She’s my friend from high school,” he says. “She’s two years younger and we were friends in band.”

“Did you like her or something?”

“What? No!” he says emphatically. “She’s like my little sister, but we hung out a lot together.”

I take in the information to create a coherent story. “So… Minji was jealous because you spent a lot of time with Hyoyeon and Minji got angry or something… and you guys broke up because of that, right?”

“Yep.”

“Why did you get back together?”

“The first time was a year ago and I missed her so I thought we could make it work. Then a couple months later, we got into a fight and I broke up with her again, but then I thought I made a mistake so we got back together,” he says. “So what do you think I should do?”

I sit there, staring at my bed spread, trying to figure out how to respond. There is a conflict of interest. I am obviously interested in Johnny and would definitely like for him to be single so that I can date him, but I also do not want to tell him that he should break up with his girlfriend because I’m afraid that I can’t be totally objective in this situation. Personally, if this had been Siwoo, I would’ve told him to break up with her. Perhaps Siwoo is not the best example, but that’s what we have to work with. Johnny’s not happy with Minji and he’s obviously flirting with another girl he likes more. What’s the point of prolonging it?

What’s with me in having guys with girlfriends being attracted to me?  

Either they’re unhappy or unsatisfied or I just have a lot more power than I thought. The other explanation is that they’re just assholes.  

Wow, Y/N, now you just attract assholes? That must say something about your personality.

Attempting to be as objective as possible, I decide to say the most neutral, yet important, thing I can.

“People don’t change, Johnny.”

He tilts his head. “What do you mean?”

“If you’re upset with the jealousy and the lack of ambition or whatever, that’s not going to change,” I say. “People only change if something drastic happens that causes them to be different.”

“So… are you saying I should break up with her?”

My eyes widen. “No, no,” I say quickly. “I did not say that. I’m just telling you that people don’t change. So it’s up to you whether or not you think it’s something you can handle.”

He’s quiet for a bit and then turns to look at me. “Do you really believe that?”

“Believe what?”

“That people don’t change.”

I nod slowly. “Yeah.”

“But I’m different now from a few years ago. I know a lot of people I grew up with who are different now.”

“Fundamentally, people don’t change. Yeah, you might pick up some new habits here and there, but generally, it’s hard to change unless you know there’s something you need to change,” I say. “And acknowledgement is only the beginning. You have to want to change too. If you don’t, then it doesn’t make a difference.”

“So, you don’t think Minji is going to change at all?”

I’m hesitant to make any comments specifically concerning Minji. So I give another open-ended answer. “If she thinks something needs to be changed and wants to, then maybe.”

In thinking about it, Siwoo is the perfect example here. No matter how many failed relationships he gets into, he never changes his behavior. Get together with one girl, cheat on her or treat her horribly, break up, feel bad for about two seconds, rinse, repeat. Somehow, it never fazes him.

I often wonder if there’s one girl out there that would break his heart enough that it would cause him to change. Even a little bit.

“I’m going to break up with her,” Johnny says after some time.

I look at him and say nothing.

“Yeah, I think it’s time to break up with her,” he says again.

“It’s your decision.”

He sighs. “Yeah, I know. I’m supposed to see her on Monday, so I’ll do it then.”

I remain silent and keep my facial expression neutral. If Johnny actually follows through with it, I’d be happy. But I don’t want to be the reason he breaks up with her. That’s not my place.

“Thanks,” he says and smiles. “You are pretty good at giving advice.”

“Oh, yeah,” I remark. “Sure.”

I put my phone down and lie back onto my pillow at the head of the bed. Crossing my arms across my chest, I close my eyes as a sudden drowsiness overcomes me. I hear some shifting at the end of the bed.

“Are you tired?” Johnny asks.

“Mm, a little,” I mumble.

A blanket is gently draped over me and I hum a quiet “thank you.” Everything is still and peaceful, but I can tell that Johnny is watching me.

And then he asks me a question.

“What if I told you I like you?”

My eyes shoot open in shock and Johnny is smiling down at me, a hopeful look etched into his features. I stare at him for a moment and knit my eyebrows together, having been rendered speechless by his confession.

My lack of response causes a bit of a panic in his eyes and he asks another question.

“Is that good or bad?”

Trying to remain calm, I close my eyes as if his question hadn’t just shocked me.

“It’s okay…” I respond.

Though my eyes are closed, a small part of me is laughing inside, half-aware that my unenthusiastic and non-idealistic response is not how he anticipated this to play out.  

“So…” The unsteadiness in his voice is detectable. “What about you?”

“I do,” I answer simply.

“You do what?”

“I do like you.”

I open my eyes again and there’s a shy smile on his face.

“I think you’re really cute and I enjoy spending time with you and I want to keep spending time with you,” he continues.

He climbs up towards the front of the bed and lies with his back against the wall. I feel an arm reach around my waist.

“You—you can’t do that,” I say.

Johnny slowly removes his hand. “Why not?”

“You’re still with someone else.”

My voice is unsteady and I don’t trust it. But quite frankly, I’m not sure I trust my own judgment either.

I shut my eyes again, unable to fight the fatigue. A few moments pass before Johnny speaks again.

“Can I stay here?”

Y/N, you know that he shouldn’t.

“Yes.”

He pushes himself up off the bed and climbs over me. His feet land on the floor with a thump and he flips off the light switch. He quickly climbs back onto my bed and places himself where he was before. I’m on the edge of the bed and there’s about a foot of space in between the two of us. I hear him shuffling around and suddenly there’s a hand lightly resting on the exposed skin of my waist.

“No, you can’t do that,” I say more forcefully. “You’re still with someone.”

He quickly removes his hand this time and then says, “I think I’ll leave you alone then.”

He climbs off the bed again and I remain still until I hear the door open and close. Then I’m alone.

I slowly sit up. There’s a thin stream of moonlight peering in through the missing blind. Looking around the room, there’s enough light to see that Johnny had left his bag of pistachio nuts and the package of cookies on my desk. Biting my lip, I decide to go brush my teeth and wash my face, but when I look at my reflection in the mirror, I feel scared.

What are you doing?

What are you supposed to do with this confession?

Hell, you confessed yourself.

There’s a part of me that feels excited that a boy of interest has returned my affections, but suddenly I’m finding that I don’t know how to process it. I’ve had plenty of confessions before, but this is different and I don’t know why.

Prev | Next

Before I Met You Masterlist

Masterlist

[chelsfic]

Part 4 - Trustfall - August Walker/Reader - Mission: Impossible Fallout fanfic

A/N: I’m not sure if this is quite the tone I was going for, but almost every time I set out to write something it turns out differently than I originally intended. For better or worse! I really hope you enjoy this little chapter. There’s action and angst to come in the next part!

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

You wake the next morning with all the awkwardness and mortification it is possible to feel. Your arms are twined around August’s middle and your bad leg is screaming from being folded underneath you all night. There is an unmistakable drool spot on August’s t-shirt that you are choosing to ignore. 

To you, August seems just as cool and collected as always. He stretches, reaching his arms over his head, deliciously exposing a few inches of his stomach as his shirt hitches up. You don’t notice. His eyes flick to the clock on the wall and he huffs a resigned breath before violently cracking his neck. The blatant masculinity is positively overwhelming.

You clear your throat, “Uh...sorry about that. I didn’t mean to fall asleep here...with you.”

You slowly unfold your leg and hiss against the pins and needles, the painfully cramped muscles. August watches you with an inscrutable expression.

He grunts a noncommittal response, effectively ignoring your poor attempt to address the sudden, confusing intimacy of the previous night. You look back at him, at his unreadable face and realize, with a sinking stomach, that he plans to just pretend it never happened. 

He observes your nervousness with cool calculation. At least that’s how it seems to your eyes. You can’t possibly know that his thoughts are racing. That he’s recalling, relishing the feel of your small body pressed against him, the perfect trust that seemed to exist between you when your eyes drifted shut and you slept without a thought for the locked door that stood between you every night prior to last night. 

“Alright, then,” you chirp, needing to fill the silence. “I’m gonna jump in the shower…”

You trail off. As August shifts forward in his seat to stand up he lets his hand just graze over your shoulder in a comforting caress. It’s there and gone before you have time to process it. But it was definitely there. 

Maybe he wasn’t going to pretend last night didn’t happen.

***

In the days that follow neither of you brings up the strange night you spent holding one another. But the magic of that twilight hour seems to have had a healing effect. The air in the house is lighter. You feel the easing of the tension you’ve been unconsciously carrying around in your shoulders. And there are the touches. It feels natural. Right. That night had unlocked an intimacy between you that wasn’t quite forgiveness. It was more like an acknowledgement of things to come, of the possibility of things. 

Your fingers sliding together as he passes you a soapy plate to dry. The brush of your fingertips along the nape of his neck when you pass him sitting in the living room. And one night when he returns home very late with a blackened eye and a cut over his eyebrow. He walks through the front door and makes a beeline for you, sitting on the couch in the living room. He kneels before you on the floor and winds his strong arms around your waist, pressing his face into your soft stomach. You move your hands in soothing circles over his trembling shoulders. 

Things are...changing. And you want them to. You find yourself looking forward to seeing August at the end of the work day. Driving home with a smile on your face. And you worry when he stays out late...working. You feel the blossoming of possibility between you and you can see in his eyes and feel it in his touch, that he feels it too.

Of course things are bound to go wrong.

***

You’re running late, you don’t even have time to shower properly. You just stick your head under the shower spray to wet it and then throw your hair in a bun. Better than nothing. As you’re rushing out the door you hear August’s quick steps on the stairs. By now you realize he only makes noise when he wants you to know he’s there. Otherwise he’s capable of moving with ghostly silence.

“Y/N,” he calls, “you’ll be home late tonight, right?”

He’s dressed in a crisp button-down shirt and dark grey trousers. He must have business today. When he’s staying in he tends to dress down in denim and t-shirts or sweaters. At first you had found the sight of him in casual wear to be jarring--now it is the other way around. When he’s dressed for business you know there is the possibility of danger. You feel your heart in your throat at the idea of August being hurt and you wonder when that started, feeling protective of him.

“Yeah,” you reply, pushing away the question you have no answer for, “it’s my book club night tonight. I’ll be home around nine-ish.”

“See you then,” he says and takes a step toward you before stopping himself. 

You stand there for an extra beat, feeling like he’s left something hanging in the air between you. Finally you offer him a half-smile and wave goodbye as you walk out the door.

Stupid, he thinks to himself. What is he thinking? That he’s your husband, hugging you before you leave for work? This situation was getting confusing and he didn’t have time today to be distracted by feelings that would be better off ignored.

He needs to think over his plans for the day, the night. He’s arranged for a meeting between two clients, money for information. Simple. The buyer is most certainly a Russian SVR operative although he is representing himself as a businessman in need of insider intel. The seller, whom August will be representing, is some low-level DOD engineer looking to live dangerously. August will be taking a substantial finder’s fee from the deal which he’s arranged for this evening in the house. It isn’t ideal, but the original location he’d selected had spooked the Russian. So, this is his alternative. And it will be fine. It’s a one-time thing and it will all be fine. As long as he is certain that Y/N will arrive home well after his client departs.

***

“So, on a scale of one to dead how much trouble would I be in if I didn’t finish the book for book club tonight?”

You’re perched on the edge of your friend Jen’s desk wearing a sheepish expression. Jen’s classroom is next door to yours. You both started teaching in the same year and had naturally become fast friends. It is a little comical given how different you are. Jen is a garrulous, spiritual star-girl who spends her weekends at psychic fairs and you are a snarky, introvert with a natural skepticism for anything that can’t be verified in a double-blind study. There is just something inherently compatible and complementary between you that makes the friendship work. You suppose it’s a sense of humor and the fact that Jen never really pushes too hard to break into your personal space. Other than constantly bemoaning your lack of a dating life.

Jen laughs at your comically shamed expression and shakes her head in mock disgust, “Y/N...this is like the third month in a row you’ve asked me that question.”

“Hey! At least part of that time I was in the hospital. You know I’m going to milk that excuse for as long as I can,” you reply. You really enjoy being in the book club--it’s just Jen and a couple other teachers and it pretty much comprises the entirety of your social life since well before the shooting. 

As far as Jen and the rest of your coworkers know you were in a bad car accident. The lie has become easier for you to accept with time. Now you can joke about it.

“Mmm...no, sorry that’s not gonna cut it anymore,” Jen scoffs. “But...you’re actually off the hook because it turns out that Maddy and Lisa both had to cancel tonight, anyway.”

You raise your hands in mock victory, “Just as I planned all along!”

Jen rolls her eyes, “You want to go out for dinner at Zorba’s anyway?”

“Nope!” you chirp. “Canceled plans? I fully intend to go home and finish this damn book.”

“Uh huh,” Jen’s voice is laced with skepticism. “Don’t think I don’t know the real reason you haven’t finished it. You have a secret boyfriend, don’t you? It’s the surgeon who fixed your leg! You’ve fallen in love and are going to get married and have little surgeon babies!”

“Good grief! Next book is going to be strictly non-romance! You’re delirious!” 

You walk toward the door that adjoins your two classrooms and force a laugh as you wave goodbye. You can’t help it. The little stutter you feel in your heart at Jen’s words. It’s ridiculous because August is basically a scoundrel despite how nice he’s been acting to you lately. But you can’t lie to yourself. You’re happy to be going straight home after work instead of heading to bookclub. In fact the little bubble of happy anticipation in your chest floats you through your day until you’re once again driving home with a goofy smile on your face looking forward to seeing the man who has somehow, incredibly, managed to carve out a place in your heart.

Tags:

@thorins-queen-of-erebor @viking-raider  @onceuponathreetwoone @angelic-kisses13 @afangirldaydreams @peeyewpeeyew @calwitch @scuzmunkie @amy-choices​

[iheardarumorxxx]

Midnight Sun, Chapter 9 - Port Angeles

Right. I remember this chapter from Twilight. I also have heard quite a bit about this chapter. This is gonna be a ride. 

Eddie starts off this chapter saying that he used to be the ‘responsible’ one. I would like to remind everyone that Edward Anthony Masen Cullen spent a few years eating people he percieved to be horrible criminals because he didn’t like animal blood and was being a whiny baby. But go off, Eddie.

SM is still trying to paint Jessica as a rude bitch and I still don’t buy it. It is extremely clear to anyone with eyeballs that Mike has a thing for Bella, and it is pretty obvious that this date he’s going on with Jessica is because Bella said no. So her thoughts come off as insecure. She’s a teenage girl, so I think insecure is a pretty standard thing. Not always, but SM has painted these kids as the stereotypical teens, so.

Basically, I still don’t buy the attempt to make Jessica seem evil.

Bella has wandered off to go get that book she wanted, and Eddie is simply freaking out because he let his daughter out of his sight for one minute and she wandered off. He’s about half a second away from considering getting a leash to put on her. Seriously, though, that’s how this reads. A parent frantic because they lost their child in a crowded store or park. We all know she’s gonna get a serious scolding for this one. Maybe even grounded.

a volly of snarls erupted from my throat

Okay, we’re still not to the big rant about vampire instincts in this universe, yet, but I want you guys to remember this for later. It absolutely aides in the point I plan to make there. Also a ‘volly’ of snarls. That sounds so forced and I genuinely laughed out loud when I read it. Anyway, Eddie has found Bella and she is with the Evil Bad Guys Who Have Ill Intentions. 

I would see how he enjoyed the hunt when he was the pray. I would see what he thought of my style of hunting.

Technically a spoiler because it hasn’t happened yet in this book, but not because we’ve seen it in Twilight. Eddie literally does not do anything to this Lanny guy or his friends. He gets out of the car, makes a mean face at them, and then gets back in the car and drives off. Maybe SM has Eddie go back out and hunt them later after he drops Bella off, but that doesn’t fit in with his squeaky clean good boy persona that Daddy Carlisle puts on him, so I doubt it. The scene as we know it comes off as very ‘man, if my girlfriend wasn’t here I’d kick your ass’. Because Eddie is a lot of bloated, puffed up talk.

When SM uses dialogue tags like ‘ordered’ to describe how Eddie says things, it just really hammers home that point I’ve been making about red flags. Even if it’s practical, like him telling Bella to put on a seat belt, especially since Pires bend the will of cars to their inane and idotic physics.

We went on a tangent about one of Eddie’s kills from his Vampire Batman days, and like honestly? I watch a lot of Criminal Minds. I see a lot of this kind of stuff, and it is absolutely awful that people like that exist in the world. I’m not saying that they shouldn’t be stopped. HOWEVER, this idea Eddie has that he was playing a good guy by taking justice into his own hands, I don’t jive with that. Now, I am aware of how faulty the criminal justice system is, especially with victims of sexual assault and domestic violence. I’ve lived that, myself. But if Eddie is so comfortable taking another life, no matter how he tries to justify it, he is no better than the people who he’s deciding to kill for their crimes.

a highly justifiable murder

See, this. This is why I don’t buy that SM’s Cullens are the paragons of good that she is constantly trying to say they are. There is no such thing as a justifiable murder, no matter what. Solving heinous acts with heinous acts simply perpetuates a cycle of heinous acts. 

I wasn’t giving her a chance to say no.

This is a trend that will continue throughout the entire series. I will point you to all of the times that Edward never gave Bella a choice in a matter, including leaving her in New Moon, and DISMANTLING HER CAR ENGINE IN ECLIPSE SO THAT SHE COULDN’T GO SEE HER FRIEND. That one in particular rubs me the wrong way for reasons, but we won’t do that here. Just know that Edward never actually lets Bella make a choice in this series, and even when he pretends to, he does everything in his power to make the outcome go his way.

And now we’re at the restaruant. I’ve heard some stuff about this scene and god, can I not WAIT, but for now, let’s just talk about the one off waitress character. She is clearly only here to be a rival to Bella for this scene. Brief, unimportant, underdeveloped. And honestly? One off characters don’t actually need that development, not really, but what I can’t stand about this one is that she is literally only here, both in this book and in Twilight, so that SM can puff up how clearly Bella is so much better than she is. Because, you see, Eddie doesn’t find the pretty hostess attractive, he only has eyes for Bella. Her entire point is so that Edward can look at Bella, and therefore, the audience as Bella is their SI for this world, and go on about how much better and prettier and more perfect she is than this woman. It’s just gross.

“Do I dazzle you?”

This is still, in my personal opinion, the best and most iconic line in a series full of iconic lines. Eddie the Dazzle Machine. Charming the pants off people when he’s trying to scare the shit out of them. It’s hilarious, and so fuckin’ romance novel cliche, and I love it.

This restaurant is apparently a real place in the real Port Angeles. And from what I understand, at least when the Twilight craze was in full swing back in 2008, they got a lot of extra business and a lot more people ordering the mushroom ravioli. Even put something about Twilight on their menu. Good for them, taking advantage of that free marketing. I have never been to Port Angeles, and am allergic to mushrooms, so I can’t say I’ve experienced the dish, but if any of you have, please let me know if it’s worth the hype.

Its so funny that right now, Eddie is worried about Bella being cold and going into shock, while Bella is over there huffing the fumes off his jacket like it’s a paint can, and he can’t even tell that that’s what she’s doing. The girl is doing everything short of just shoving her whole face in it and inhaling, but he’s too thick to get it. 

And here we are folks. The meat and potatoes of this chapter. The big comparison. The reason the cover has a pomegranete on it. Edward Anthony Masen Cullen has the absolute GALL to compare Bella, the boring, walking video game avatar to Persephone. Lets break down Persephone for a second here. There’s a lot to break down, but let’s stick to the basics, for fear that this rant gets wickedly out of hand before I can stop it. Persephone radiates optimism and hope. Persephone is soft, sweet, but has a temper that could kill a man. Persephone is sympathetic. When in the ever loving FUCK has Isabella Swan ever shown any of those characteristics? She is NEVER optimistic about anything. She fucking exists in a constant cloud of negative thought and assuming the worst. She isn’t hopeful about ANYTHING, not even her future with her PRECIOUS Eddie because she’s always questioning his intentions and feelings for her. She is not sympathetic in the slightest, no matter what SM tries to shove down my throat. She treats her friends like shit, she manipulates and lies her way through conversations so she doesn’t have to deal with them, she compares Mike to a FUCKING DOG. Bella is not comparable to Persephone, and it’s fucking beyond ham-fisted, it’s fucking EGREGIOUS to try to make that comparison. 

I could see more of an argument for comparing Eddie to Hades, since, ya know, Hades fucking stole Persephone to be his wife and most stories about Hades paint him as kind of a moody, brooding dickbag, but I’m still calling fucking foul on this attempt at comparison, SM. No dice.

Moving on.

Eddie describing Bella’s skin as ‘velvety’ gives me war flashbacks to those grocery store checkout novels with Fabio on the cover that my mom used to read. Eghhh.

So, Bella touches Eddie’s hand and it’s described in a way that gives me very G-rated sex vibes. Which just makes me wanna tell them to get a room because they’re in public right now, and also don’t do that in front of Bella’s salad ravioli.

Eddie is still being super controling and weird about Bella eating, and honestly, I super wish that Bella had had the good sense to get the hell out of there with Jess and Angela. Or that she would have the good sense now to excuse herself, find someone on staff, ask to borrow a phone, and call her dad. Because this guy is literally throwing out every red flag that exists. I know I say this a lot, but if Bella were a normal girl, she would not be charmed by this guy, she would be freaking creeped out and trying to get away from him. He isn’t even subtle about his creep factor or charming enough to play it off.

Edward thinking he has any edge at all is like white bread thinking it’s the right kind of bread for a hamburger.

Anyway, chapter ends with Eddie paying the bill and the pair getting in the car to head home. And the drama chord of the last sentence that’s supposed to play in your head when you read it falls flat. They’re on the way back to Forks and Eddie is chomping at the bit to hear Bella’s latest theory that we know from Twilight isn’t actually a theory so much as she heard a story from Jacob and then did some searching on some shitty Angelfire website. Or Geocities. Either way. And then she just went ahead and had a big old prophetic dream about it. 

Next time, we get the awkward car ride home and more. Thanks for hanging around guys. As always, feel free to message me (though, please note to anyone who has sent me anon messages that are rude or angry because I’m making fun of this book, I’m gonna ignore you.), recommend what books I should put on my list for my next recap series, and feel free to buy me a snack using the CashApp tag in my bio.

See you next time, babes.

[unwiltingblossom]

Code: Realize Route Review - Van Helsing

Round two of the Code: Realize routes/character reviews. This uses information from the main game + extra scenes in the main game. I have the first sequel fandisc, but I haven’t played it yet, so that content isn’t included.

Abraham Van Helsing

I have determined Van Helsing is the correct/expected second route. Similar to Impey, his route doesn’t spoil anything, but it does hint at Germain’s route and sets up Victor’s. (Victor’s route will spoil Van’s)

Van Helsing got the immediate VA boost, which was good, because his introduction was the first jarring experience of making a choice that meant nothing. “Come Out/Stay Hidden” has no difference except a couple paragraphs of dialog and which people get affection points. That’s to be expected in a free mobile game, but for a game with a $50 price tag (even considering the bundled fandisc) it’s pretty unforgivable. The lack of animation and repeat backgrounds/misc CGs also show through in this route whether it’s your second as is likely to be expected or especially if it’s third like mine was.

Not to go on a tangent, but the fact that the boys don’t even get unique bedrooms despite each of them getting at least one scene in their bedroom is a travesty.

Anyway, back on topic. Van is a fun little tsundere route, but the trouble with his route is that you spend most of it waiting for a payoff that barely happens, due to the plot they decided to go with. Transferring tsundere into manpain makes for a rough route when it’s the same length as everyone else’s.

It’s interesting that this route departs from the others where it has multiple villains that Van has to go through before the final villain, instead of just sending endless waves of Twilight mooks and giving one big boss at the end. Unfortunately, if you’re a fool like myself and first played Victor and Impey before him, you’ll be disappointed that Cardia isn’t really ‘shaped’ by Helsing. Despite the focus on self defense and martial arts - which will come in handy in other routes - Cardia’s role is pretty similar here as in Impey’s, minus engineering stuff: stand back, let Van Helsing be awesome, worry about him.

I found his bad endings easier to avoid in general, except against Jack the Ripper. Mostly because the choices were again pretty weird. You can kind of guess ‘don’t resist’ is the correct choice from his lessons about when to surrender (if you forget that it’s literally Jack the Ripper, and you don’t let Jack get near you with knives) - but good luck if you’ve done Germain’s route before this, because like with Impey and Victor’s routes, the same dilemma has the opposite answer in Germain and Van’s route. The second bad end Jack can give you (because what’s more fun than one bad end instantly after you start a route? Two!) is just some serious BS, though, I’m calling it right now. “Do you stay and try to get the door open or abandon it and look for another route” is absolutely a ‘damned if you do or don’t’ dilemma, because either route can and will result in death in a horror movie...but when you stack on that the narrative says “This is a dead end with only one door that has faint light behind it” before giving you the option to decide whether you should keep struggling with the door while Jack closes in or abandon it and look elsewhere is just unfair. (Spoiler: it wasn’t a dead end, she could have kept running and does so)

On the bright side, the story does eventually let Cardia be more violent in Van’s route compared to others, as the climax of the story has her grab a man’s throat with her bare hands specifically intent on murdering the heck out of him if necessary. But man is there a lot of ‘just stay out of Van’s way’ up until then.

The route’s really slim on romance, but it has lots of angst and feels in its place, and it’s the route Delly gets to be more than just ‘that kid who pops his head up and sasses sometimes before he goes back to house-sitting or something’. Even in Lupin’s route, Delly barely gets to do anything onscreen. Since Delly is glued to Van’s side, he basically fulfills a role somewhere between little brother and son to Cardia through the route and it’s pretty cute. Even in the ‘normal’ ending, Delly is the one who’s there.

The only iffy moment isn’t much of one, because it’s a pretty weak trap. You’re supposed to stay and help Delly in one scene - failing to do so will just get Van injured - while in another, staying and helping him will get you a bad end. That said, it’s not so bad, because the former doesn’t give you a bad end and in the latter case you should know the flow of things well enough to know you should chase after Van. (Weirdly, in Code: Realize, it’s basically never that a bad end results in a boyfriend dying, even when it would makes sense)

Speaking of bad ends, Victor’s normal end isn’t a sucker punch choice designed to mess with you, as Impey’s feels like...but man is his lazy. His isn’t the only route that does it, sadly, but nothing feels quite so much like they wrote the True Route first and went ‘what if we just MESS WITH them for the Normal End’ as Van’s. It’s tedious because you have to track through a bunch of identical stuff for a microscopic amount of change pre-epilogue, whether you started with Normal or True End (but especially if you start with True End, the only reason you’d bother with Normal End is to see epilogue Delly. Maybe two lines of writing is even any different at the Normal End cut off point, compared to just playing through True End and seeing ‘the rest of the scene’)

Overall, Van Helsing’s route is extremely thorough in exploring both Van and Delly, because it’s extremely plot relevant to know basically everything there is to know about Van Helsing in it. It’s really great for getting the player to fall for Van. It’s very weak on romancing Van Helsing, though, because when you get into a tsundere route your expectation is that you’re gonna break through to the dere, but that really doesn’t happen. You wanna see Van Helsing’s dere? You can see it from Isaac’s lab all the way up until Azoth appears. Most of that time Cardia isn’t with Van...and in Germain and Lupin’s route it’s confirmed Van behaves pretty similarly when Cardia goes ‘missing’ in those, so unless the game is implying everyone falls for her no matter what (which sometimes I think it is), it’s not that helpful.

Van’s love of Cardia isn’t secret to the player - Azoth immediately calls him out about it, which is what makes him push Cardia away for her safety, when Cardia almost dies to save Van they have a sweet moment, the final choice in the route has his anguished declaration of ‘you’re important to me’ in the rain, and the climax of the route has Azoth using Van’s unspoken love for Cardia against him, resulting in Van attempting to kill himself to protect Cardia. Unfortunately...that’s all you get until True End, extra scenes, and sequel fandisc stuff.

My main criticisms of the route are these:

1 - Cardia’s training under Van Helsing doesn’t come into play, and she’s instead expected to stand back and let her boyfriend be awesome like with Impey’s route, but she doesn’t get to be an engineer on this one, so it’s all her running from danger or through it to get to Van. Arguably, the scene where Cardia has to sneak through a fortress full of Twilight soldiers to help spring Impey from his cage in Impey’s route would have fit better in this route (with Van captive) than his - and to support that, you have to use one of Van’s lessons to succeed in that! To know the answer for one of Van’s bad end choices, you need an answer Lupin provides, which is impossible to have on first run.

2 - Van’s route is very slim on actually romancing him. If Impey’s route has him CONSTANTLY confessing and having Cardia refuse to accept she’s in love with him because it’s embarrassing, Van’s is the opposite where he refuses to accept he’s in love with her but Cardia is incredibly determined.

3 - The Normal End, although so easy to avoid you pretty much have to get it on purpose, is nonsensical in its cause-effect relation to the choice you actually make to trigger it (unless it’s really triggered by overall affection points, like Lupin’s is) and is extremely lazy, just cutting off the True End at a point that would make the story end sadly instead of happily

4 - Just screw everything to do with Jack the Ripper’s section except the moment when Van Helsing finally manages to rescue her and looks cute. It was an awful section, Jack’s design is ugly, and it overall makes no sense. Sholmes doesn’t solve an easily solvable criminal case we later learn he’s tracking extremely closely, Azoth wants a crazy woman killer to capture and keep a woman without killing her, Jack goes from ‘I won’t kill you’ to ‘Nevermind killing time’ without any real reason to it, and the choices you’re given seem designed specifically to bait you into getting the bad end first. ALSO - we later learn that Azoth expected Van to kill Jack and this would have hurt his psyche for some reason, when killing a serial killer in the midst of actively murdering women doesn’t really seem like something that would at all harm a soldier’s psyche. And he set up a bomb in the room with his recording anyway.

5- NOT EVEN ONE ‘FAKE’ KISS. NO KISSING. NO TOUCHING. Because Cardia neither removes her poison, nor has it weakened temporarily in his route, no one gets to touch her. Because Van pretends he isn’t in love with her the whole time, he never even does the Lupin hat kiss thing. No kisses. No touches.

Overall the route is good, though. Its big twist is 100% ruined if you play Victor’s route first, because nothing Van can say will change the fact that Aleister causes two bad ends all on his own in that route, but it’s still a fun route to play through and the lack of Van Helsing fluff can be fixed in the fandiscs. By the epilogue and the extra scenes, Van is full dere in his slightly sarcastic and prickly way, it’s just a shame we couldn’t get more of that.

[rogueninja]

Okay so we all know who your top ships are... who are your unpopular ships? Or obscure ships? What characters from what series do you think about often in either good or bad ways? Who is a character that you hate that others love? If you could rewrite a story or part of a book, what would it be and what would you do differently?

Ok I am digging through my brain right now bc if I’m not able to hyperfixate on something then I tend to forget I even liked it. Ok buckle in bc this is gonna be long af. YOU ASKED FOR THIS, REG.

I’m putting a readmore so as not to torture my followers lol

Thinking about Veronica Mars. About Veronica/Logan. Do they have a ship name?? But I love that show and i was THERE for them. They were kind of a surprise ship for me, in that when they got together I was like, wait, WHAT? Like I was totally caught off guard. But there first kiss is, like, sooo romantic to me haha. It’s my fave scene in the show. But Logan is suck a prick sometimes. And they break up like every five minutes. And every season Logan gets accused of murder which of course he ends up not being the murderer. And they get back together eventually and I’m like really? But deep down I am rooting for them lol. I really enjoyed the new season of Veronica Mars that came out last year, actually. The ending made me SO SAD THO.

I also used to watch Supergirl and I thought Kara and Mon-El were adorable. He was very Carswell Thorne-esque, RH, I *think* you would like him. I never watched past season 3(?) though, and he shoots off into space and I never caught up so a few months ago I actually googled what happens and [spoiler] he ends up marrying someone else in the future or something so I was like, ok I’m not investing any more time in this show lol. (Also I had to google Mon-El’s name just now bc i forgot which is a bad look BUT I WAS REALLY RIDE OR DIE FOR THEM FOR A WHILE lol). Also I loved Martian Manhunter in this show, he was my favorite character. But the CGI for him was awful, omg. He had practical makeup at first, they should have just stuck with that.

Speaking of Martian Manhunter, I also used to watch Young Justice and loved Miss Martian/Superboy. Am I basic??? lol oop. But I love basic love stories. Anyway, I thought they were super cute. In season 3 though they’re kind of on the rocks. I haven’t watched season 4. I also loved Artemis/Wally West, but of course that had to end tragically.

Also, let’s talk about Nightcrawler. Allow me to set the scene. Little Kat is 13 and just rediscovered the cartoon she saw a few times as a kid called X-Men: Evolution. And thus, a weird obsession with the German, blue demon boy began. I loved Kurt Wagner. In the cartoon he starts a relationship with Amanda Sefton and I thought they were a-dor-a-ble. She accepted him for who he was, and they had a really nice healthy relationship. A lot of ppl shipped him with Kitty too which i am honestly all for idec I JUST WANT THE BLUE BOI TO BE HAPPY.

Can we talk about A:TLA too??? Like, obviously Zutara, amiright? Power couple. Like, Kataang is.. fine, but its probably my least favorite part about the ending, haha. Also, consider: Tokka. Toph is bae and can get anyone she wants, and she clearly had kind of a crush on Sokka and I think they could have been awesome. It actually kills me that they never say who Lin and Suyin’s father is in LoK. I had a whole theory that it was that kid The Duke from Jet’s band based on like 2 scenes from the series. There’s a tumblr post I made about it somewhere in the ether lol.

I also just remembered Tahnorra (Tahno/Korra) from Legend of Korra. It’s hard for me to explain this one. It’s a weird combination of being hyperfixated on the first season of the show when it came out, and I think I stumbled upon some fic or something???? And I thought Tahno was hot or something??? And FUN FACT, he was voice by Rami Malek BEFORE HE WAS COOL. So like before Rami really got big I knew who he was. He also basically played the Avatar in Twilight: Breaking Dawn Part 2 and I thought that connection was hilarious. It was kind of a problematic crack pairing but there was one author in particular whom i follow to this day hoping she’ll update her Tahnorra fics…. *sigh*

Okay one last ship…. I used to be ride or die for Outlaw Queen in Once Upon a Time (aka Regina/Robin Hood). Like, before TLC, I had a personal tumblr renaissance for that ship alone. My only existing published fanfic is for that ship. Taylor Swift’s 1989 came out that year and I related every dang song to that ship. I loved Regina so much and I just wanted her to be happy. That show is a dumpster fire, though, and spat all over my hopes and dreams. *sigh*

Also, lightning round for obscure pairings I ship and/or never talk about:

Frank Castle/Karen Page (The Punisher) ok this one isnt that obscure but I never talk about it… but the pining, oh god the pining

Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth (GoT) THEIR 5 SECONDS TOGETHER ARE THE ONLY WORTHY PART OF SEASON 8. everything after that never happened

I already listed Roy Mustang/Riza Hawkeye (FMAB) as a top pairing previously but I feel the need to mention it again bc it was for real my OG OTP… LIKE U WANNA TALK ABOUT PINING…. *sobs*

Percy/Annabeth (Percy Jackson and the Olympians) This used to be my fave book series and i loved how their relationship developed over the course of the books

Neville Longbottom/Luna Lovegood (Harry Potter) ok can we TALK ABOUT THIS??? They were both badass misfits and they were perfect for each other. But noooo JKR has to announce they marry some nobodies…. this is the only change the last movie did right

Midna/Link (Zelda: Twilight Princess) I honestly have no explanation for this lol

Qui-gon Jinn and Shmi (Star Wars) CAN U IMAGINE if anakin had a proper father figure and didnt have to abandon his mother to slavery

Obi-wan/Satine…. (Star Wars: The clone Wars) we know whats up

OK, to answer some of your other questions: character I hate that others love. HMMMM…….

This one seems too easy/obvious but Professor Snape? Like obviously there’s already a ton of discourse surrounding this but he was gross, mistreated his students for years, committed atrocities, couldn’t get over his high school crush, and we’re supposed to believe he’s a hero in the end and HARRY WOULD NAME HIS SON AFTER HIM….. uh no. “Always” is gross.

I’ve literally been wracking my brain for days and I can’t think of any more characters for this. OK I did some googling and I remembered some LOL.

Ross from friends…. I literally can’t stand him. He’s so entitled and just the worst. He tries to act like he’s the nice, sensitive guy, but really he is so full of himself. Joey on the other hand is portrayed as a womanizer but is actually super sweet and I love him

Archie from Riverdale… I have only seen the first 1.5 seasons ish but he is the worst…. we’re supposed to believe he’s some easygoing musically gifted football player but instead he manages to pull off being bland as heck and actually kind of a terrible garbage person

Nick from chilling adventures of Sabrina. I hate characters that are like hitting on the main character even though she has a bf and are like dark and broody and sexy blah blah blah…. I liked Harvey way better. I never finished season 2 tho

Emma Swan from Once Upon a Time? Idk she was fine she just got old after a while

If you could rewrite a story or part of a book, what would it be and what would you do differently?

HM. First, Harry would name his son Remus Rebeus Potter LOL. Ok but real talk there was a headcanon floating around forever ago that Harry should have become a professor at Hogwarts instead of an auror and I am 100% on board

Ok, ok….. what abouuuttt…… OK, is star wars when Han and Leia get together. I like them as a couple, but the entire first half of the movie Han is being such an ass. And when they kiss the first time, he’s being SOOO creepy. It’s like so quintessentially 80s romance. and HERE’S THE THING. They actually filmed (or maybe just wrote?) a version of that scene that WASNT CREEPY. And i’m like WHY DIDNT YOU USE THAT?!? So I like to pretend that’s the version that actually happened.

This part is way harder than the shipping portion. If I think of anything else i’l dm you. I HOPE YOU ENJOY READING THIS NOVEL LENGTH POST OF ME RAMBLING ABOUT MY FIXATIONS OVER THE LAST 10 YEARS. If anyone actually read this far, you deserve a cup of hot chocolate and a blanket

[aroworlds]

The Vampire Conundrum, Part Two

When Rowan Ross is pressured into placing an aromantic pride mug on his desk, he doesn't know how to react when his co-workers don't notice it. Don't they realise he spent a weekend rehearsing answers for questions unasked? Then again, if nobody knows what aromanticism is, can't he display a growing collection of pride merch without a repeat of his coming out as trans? Be visible with impunity through their ignorance?

He can endure their thinking him a fan of archery, comic-book superheroes and glittery vampire movies. It's not like anyone in the office is an archer. (Are they?) But when a patch on his bag results in a massive misconception, correcting it means doing the one thing he most fears: making a scene.

After all, his name isn't Aro.

Contains: One trans, bisexual frayromantic alongside an office of well-meaning cis co-workers who think they're being supportive and inclusive.

Content Advisory: This story hinges on the way most cishet alloromantic people know nothing about aromanticism and the ways many trans-accepting cis people fail to best communicate their acceptance. In other words, expect a series of queer, trans and aro microaggressions. There are no depictions or mentions of sexual attraction beyond the words "allosexual" and "bisexual", but there are non-detailed references to Rowan's previous experiences with romance.

Length: 3, 737 words (part two of two).

Note: Posted for @aggressivelyarospec‘s AggressivelyArospectacular 2019.

Romance, too, feels like one of the mechanisms by which a dangerous trans body can be rendered more acceptable to cis folks.

“His name’s Aro,” Melanie says after lunch, showing a new volunteer around the office. She pats Rowan on the shoulder as she walks behind his chair, startling him enough that the clipping path he’s making around a photo of Damien’s head goes veering off to the side. “He does our website, our flyers and the information guides we send out. Aro like from the Twilight movies!”

Introductions once only encompassed Melanie’s habit of overly-stressing pronouns when referencing him—a dysphoria-triggering reminder that she doesn’t think him masculine enough for people to assume it. Isn’t that bad enough without her also getting his name wrong?

He sighs, frustrated. Complaining about this, when trans people are in desperate want of a working environment free of outright antagonism and discrimination, feels unreasonable. Hell, Rowan knows aromantics who’ll revel in being named “Aro”, so isn’t his hurt just pettiness? Isn’t this why he’s no longer welcome at home, a man too intolerant of his family’s mistakes? How many times did they tell him that his harping on about little things demonstrates a concerning lack of gratitude for their acceptance?

His co-workers do seem to believe in Rowan’s masculinity; he shouldn’t take that for granted.

Instead, he feels like he’s failing at being both transgender and aromantic.

After a fair amount of editing, he places Damien’s image in the brochure mock-up and exports to PDF. The office will make suggestions, some useful, some ignorant and some so absurd that Rowan will laugh with his friends later on, but that’s fine. He can’t expect otherwise in a workplace where everyone considers him possessed of unknowable ability with computers. They’re good people, in the main, and they care about their work.

It’s just complicated, and Rowan hates the feeling that complicated is the best cis people will let him get to a normalised acceptance.

“Aro? An Arrow fan called Aro? Really? Do you like comics or are you one of those people only into DC TV?”

Rowan looks up from attaching his PDF to an email to find the volunteer sitting on a creaking office chair and crab-walking it over to Rowan’s desk. “Comics?”

“Oh, good.” The volunteer sighs as if in relief. “I mean, the TV show? It isn’t terrible—better than most of DC’s movies, at least—but I’m so tired of people who call themselves fans but have never touched a comic book.”

Rowan glances at his journal cover, ponders its possible similarity to the show’s motif and nearly bursts out laughing. He’s never read a comic and doesn’t plan on doing so. He prefers indie podcasts and audiobooks on account of increased representation and greater ability to sew and cook while listening. “I’m not an Arrow fan. Sorry.”

Another show about cis people possessed of everyone-should-pair-up amatonormativity?

Hard pass.

“You’re not?” The volunteer gapes, waving his hand towards Rowan’s cluster of pride mugs. Three, now. Only one contains coffee, which feels like a terrible oversight. “Is this a joke, then? Are they getting you arrow stuff because of your name? Like some office thing?”

Aro.

His name is not Aro.

Rowan once thought the concept of snapping a mere storytelling device, something as ludicrous or impossible as “glittering eyes” or “romantic interest that lasts after getting to know someone”. At best an experience had by people without a brain that doesn’t devote most of its time to screaming alerts at the prospect of anything dangerous. Absurd, irrational, void of any real-life relevance.

Not even with his family has he felt this chilling, all-encompassing moment of enough.

He looks back at his computer, attaches a second PDF file to his email and, before he considers pesky things like consequences, clicks send. Then Rowan climbs up on his office chair, steps up onto the desk and whistles like a country boy who owned a border collie prone to sneaking off the property and rounding up the neighbour’s sheep.

Everyone in the office gapes up at him with a motley assortment of parted lips, unblinking eyes and, in Melanie’s case, the pointing of a long, vermillion-polished fingernail.

Up high, the room reeks of nesting rodents and the popcorn ceiling desperately wants refinishing.

Now Rowan’s brain tells his limbs to shake and his chest to heave; of course, he thinks as he shoves his hands behind his back, anxiety kicks in after he’s neck-deep in it! “My … my name is Rowan. I chose it.” He looks at the vent on the opposite wall, fighting to sound collected. Is that black mould? “Dad told me if I rejected my deadname, I was rejecting them. That I was being cruel and selfish. I earnt my name!” He stops, gasping for breath like a hooked fish—which, given his terror, feels far too appropriate a simile. “My identity is aro, short for aromantic, like being queer—one way of my being queer. So ... there’s a PDF booklet in your inbox about aromanticism. Read it! I’m proud of being aro, but you need to call me by the name I chose! It’s Rowan!”

He jumps down off the desk. The creaking laminate and the thud of his dress shoes, a little too large for Rowan’s feet, sound abominably loud in the sepulchrally-quiet room. Heading past giddy into faint, but pushed on by a heedlessness of the “this can’t possibly get worse because I’m going to be fired” variety, Rowan snatches up his satchel and reaches into the side pocket to pull out his handful of print leaflets. He drops one in the lap of the gaping volunteer, tosses the rest on an empty desk for luddites who prefer paper, and returns to his chair.

Seven sets of speechless eyes bore holes through his skull, shoulders and spine.

Rowan jams on his headphones, opens his no-romance metal playlist and turns his music up to a volume just short of deafening before queuing new posts to the project’s website.

When he invented the God of Trans Men as flippant rhetoric to cope with Melanie’s questions, is it right to pray to him?

***

Two hours later, doing his best to radiate an aura of do not disturb on pain of your bloody death, Rowan fights to pay attention to the last event write-up. Leaving early means asking permission and walking down the row of desks, risking stares and comments; he instead corrects Melanie’s idiosyncratic punctuation. Didn’t Melanie go to school at a time when they taught more than English comprehension? How doesn’t she know when not to use an apostrophe?

There’ll be consequences. Warnings? A formal discussion in the private office the supervisors only use for interviews? A request that he undergo counselling? A strong recommendation for psychiatric assessment? Firing? It isn’t like they can’t throw a rock and hit thousands of people under the age of forty with general computer skills and design ability who aren’t prone to standing on desks to make unwanted announcements.

No. Focus on the damn comma splices.

Should he ask his psychiatrist for the soonest possible appointment? New meds?

A tap on the shoulder makes Rowan’s head threaten to brush the probably-asbestos-riddled ceiling; he gasps and yanks off his headphones, trembling.

Melanie stands beside his chair, holding out her phone in its glossy pink case. “Those words that are underlined? Can I click on them to find out what they mean, like on a website? Like ... al-lo-sexual?”

“Hyperlinks in an interactive PDF—the file on your phone—work the same way as on a website,” Rowan says without thinking: in the last three months, he’s been asked this ten times. “If you click on those links, they’ll take you to a glossary at the end of the document with definitions.”

Damien sits facing his usual computer, his head tilted as if watching out the corner of his eye.

Melanie smiles the expression of a woman in an alternate dimension where Rowan doesn’t engage in embarrassing outbursts. “You’re so good at all this stuff, Rowan.” She stresses his name just enough that he can pretend she didn’t. “Where did you learn it all?”

He once tried to explain his philosophy of clicking on things only to realise that while the concept of generational divides requires excessive generalisation, a difference exists in terms of his willingness to fearless experimentation with electronic devices and programs. “School. Uni.”

“You’re so lucky. School was nothing like that when I was a girl. You have so many more opportunities now. And identities.” Melanie sighs and pushes a wisp of grey hair back from her eyebrows. “It’s good, it really is.”

Rowan blinks, startled into silence by a rare glimpse of validation stripped of performance and demonstration.

He hadn’t thought anyone here capable of it.

“It says that some people feel repulsed by romance? Are you like that? Should we do something? Do we need to not talk about romance in the office? Like, if I describe my daughter dating her boyfriend, not that I want to, is that bad? Do we need to hold a meeting? Damien—Damien—”

Damien turns, wearing the blinded look of a rabbit frozen in a spotlight. “Yes...?”

For how long has Damien worked with Melanie? For how long has the office rolled with Melanie’s interruptions and proclamations, her meetings called about the slightest of issues? For how long has the office accepted Shelby’s incessant reminding and Damien’s inability to surrender event photography to someone who knows how to modify their flash settings? Isn’t there a chance that they’ll tolerate Rowan’s occasional moments of desk-blathering?

A trans aro should be able to sew a patch on his bag reading “aro” without provoking cis weirdness. Since when does someone read a new word on his bag and assume that’s now his name? Isn’t that another over-the-top demonstration made by awkward cis people trying to prove their acceptance, something that’s never made Rowan feel safe?

Even when he’s aromantic, he never gets to avoid cissexism.

He slides his hands between the seat and his legs, aware of Melanie’s once again drawing the office’s unbroken attention. “I, personally, don’t care if people talk about their romances,” he says, certain that Damien needn’t answer Melanie about meetings, “but I do care when people assume I must want one. I do care when Sh … some of you just keep asking if I’m dating anyone.”

Rowan long set aside the need to bother with romance. He isn’t aromantic in the way most people first think of the word, as he does fall in love, but it describes his frayromanticism nonetheless. Why put himself through the inevitable messy, angry break-up when his partners don’t understand why what started as romance ends up to him as a friendship? When dating isn’t without trans-related challenges, why force himself into a type of relationship that he knows won’t last?

Romance, too, feels like one of the mechanisms by which a dangerous trans body can be rendered more acceptable to cis folks, in the same way it sanitises his equally-threatening bisexuality. If queers are holding hands and exchanging rings, just like cis and heterosexual couples, they’re safe.

He wants to be normal, but not that normal.

Melanie surprises him again by nodding. Opaque red only colours the corners of her lips; the worn centres reveal the brownish-pink beneath. “Like how we now don’t assume everyone’s—what’s the fancy word you use for not being you?”

“Cis. Yeah.”

“At my first job, I never dared yeah my elders. Can I ask what’s this a-sexual thing? Not-sexual? That’s a thing that can go with your a-ro-manti-cism? Am I saying it right? Is that something people can be?” Melanie grabs the volunteer’s vacated chair and wheels herself up to Rowan’s desk. “Tell me about this. Please.”

Damien gives a theatrically deep sigh, winks at Rowan and turns back to his keyboard.

Rowan’s tangle of feelings bewilders him too much to be simple relief, but he doesn’t appear to be at immediate risk of losing his job.

***

“We need to have a meeting!” Melanie announces ten days later, striding up to where Damien peers over Rowan’s shoulder to approve the touch-ups on a series of scanned photos. Rowan grasps the want to have a section on the website showcasing past events, but surely Damien’s film-camera predecessors weren’t all unable to take decent pictures? “Today. Perhaps before lunch?”

“Do we?” Damien doesn’t bother to turn his head. “What’s the number on the urgency scale, remembering that whiteboard markers aren’t a five?”

“I’m aro-ace.” Melanie stresses the words, beaming with the confidence of a child presenting a new finger-painted masterpiece. “I didn’t know, but I definitely am. I’m aromantic and asexual.”

“I’m glad for you.” Now Damien faces her, scratching his shock of unruly brown hair. “I don’t know why this needs a meeting? Do you want something addressed?”

Rowan leans back in his chair, too startled to do anything but watch. Melanie’s interrogation of him about all things a-spec over the last few days left him certain that she was questioning, but he didn’t expect this announcement—or Damien’s reaction to it.

“I’ve been reading, and I sent around a list of links everyone else should read, too. We must do something about our website. And, of course, everyone should know I’m aro-ace, and then let people ask any questions. Then we should consider changes to our submission forms, and then...”

Already, Melanie has done more to integrate her identity into the office and its projects than Rowan ever dared risk. Why, then, does he feel as though he’s being pressed inside a metal suit three sizes too small? Shouldn’t the end result be worth enduring a staff meeting in which she announces she’s aro-ace? Melanie being Melanie, she’ll gladly answer questions about aromanticism. Doesn’t that give Rowan everything he wanted—ability to be out as aromantic but someone else’s dealing with allo nonsense?

Matt’s right.

Rowan’s just a coward.

Damien nods at Rowan. “What do you think about that?”

“Uh...” Rowan draws a delaying breath, fighting against a brain too bewildered to be useful in forming comprehensible speech. “Uh … you’d have to run form changes past someone higher up, wouldn’t you? We have to ask about everything else? But...”

He doesn’t name Melanie a friend, but fellow aromantics aren’t common enough that Rowan will reject a companion—even if they’re cis and have subjected him to half a year’s discomfort, anxiety and alienation. He slides his restless hands under his legs, biting his lip against the sickening realisation. Melanie’s enthusiastic fearlessness may make this office and program better for him as an aro, but how can it answer all the attitudes that made Rowan fear coming out in the first place?

If he’s a coward, doesn’t he have reason?

“We do need a meeting,” he says slowly, his heart pounding in his chest like blast beats in death metal. “On better integrating marginalised people into our office. Because the way you emphasise my pronouns, Melanie, or the way Shelby reassures me five times that I can correct her … that doesn’t make me feel safe. It makes me feel reminded. Different. Too visible. And that’s why...”

“You ended up standing on a desk?” Damien asks with the gruffness of a middle-aged cis man trying to sound gentle.

“Yeah,” Rowan mutters. “That.”

Melanie clasps her fingers to her lips. “Oh! I didn’t mean anything by it! I just wanted people to get it right!”

How many times has he suffered through well-meaning people explaining that in response to his saying that they made him uncomfortable? How many times has he heard people justify their actions as though good intent always mitigates bad impact?

“You’re … you’re still making this about you! The only answer I want or need from you is thanks for telling me, Rowan, I won’t do it again! That’s all! Not your reasoning, not this effort to justify! I want to know that you hear me, that you’ll acknowledge that your intent however good still made me come home crying from dysphoria, and that you’ll stop because I don’t want to put up with it anymore! That’s all!”

For the second time in less than a fortnight, a chilling silence envelops the office.

“We need a meeting,” Rowan says breathlessly, reminding himself that at least this time he isn’t standing on his desk, “discussing how to include marginalised people in our office. Discussing all the microaggressions. Maybe you need to find … educators, trainers who come in and do this. I don’t know. I’m just so tired of never feeling safe or normal, never feeling like I can say anything because this isn’t hate and at least you’re not my parents! Like I don’t ever get to have anything better!”

He stands up, unsure what to do past fetching himself a distracting cup of coffee.

Maybe, then, he’ll be able to survive the way Melanie looks at him—as though he just ran over her puppy.

She just came out, and he did run right over it.

“I’m sorry.” Rowan sags onto his chair, leaning forwards to grab his satchel despite the unpleasant giddiness. “I’m sorry. It’s wonderful, Melanie, that you now know who you are and that you can come out. And it’s amazing that you’re doing things already, when I needed like six months just to get used to my knowing I’m aro. I just...” He reaches inside the satchel and pulls out a rough oblong shape wrapped in white tissue paper. “Here. I’m sorry.”

He, an allo-aro man, screwed up an aro-ace woman’s coming out. Shouldn’t he know better? He wants to laugh, wants to cry, wants to curl up in a ball and hide under his desk. Even now, when he’s trying to get what he needs as a trans man, he’s being the worst kind of aromantic!

Her lips pinched, Melanie takes the present in her hands, worrying at the top piece of tape with her long, pink nails.

“We’ll have a meeting.” Damien runs his hand through his hair as though he doesn’t quite know what to do with himself. “I’ll talk to the heads about … sensitivity training, I suppose this also is. Would you be willing to write me an email outlining some of these behaviours and any ways we can make this office safer for you? Is that an appropriate thing to ask of you?”

“I don’t mind,” Rowan says. As long as he doesn’t go ignored, he’ll send a few emails—and he already has a few blog posts on which to draw. “Thank you.”

“Do you … want anything, now? To talk privately to me or anyone else? Or to a senior supervisor? Or someone with the government body? Can I do or arrange anything else?”

“Coffee. Please. And … and then to go back to fixing photos as though absolutely nothing happened because I don’t … do this sort of thing.” Rowan heaves a shaking sigh, pushing aside the thought that nobody can have failed to observe this. “Thank—thank you. I’m sorry. Thank you.”

He notices Damien gesturing at Melanie, notices that Rowan’s aro flag mug leaves with both and returns a few minutes later—now distracting from the office’s musty odour with its rich bitterness. He takes a few sips, but only by throwing himself into his work can he survive the gibbering, chattering thoughts building into a crushing tsunami of what the hell. Why did he do that? Why—no. Photos.

The soft clunk of crockery hitting laminate makes him look up.

Melanie leans against the edge of Rowan’s desk, her hand resting atop her new orange, yellow, white and blue aro-ace flag mug. “I’m sorry. Thanks for telling me.” She draws a deep breath, tapping her nails against the rim. “I didn’t know I could … that there’s an explanation, until I read your booklet. It described me. Things I didn’t realise about me! Things I’d been feeling! But … I’ve been learning about things like micro-aggressions. I didn’t know I’d been doing them myself. I’m sorry. I’ll keep learning. And thank you for my cup.”

“I know,” Rowan says softly, thinking back to the day when he realised the words “aromantic” and “frayromantic” describe him. A belated voicing of confusion and alienation; the naming of a constant sense of difference from the world. Revelation, understanding, explanation. “I know. I’m sorry, too. I don’t like … scenes. Or asking people things. I’m an anxious coward. So it just...”

He waves his hands, trying to mime an explosion.

Melanie, wide-eyed, jerks her head. “I couldn’t have said anything if you hadn’t done it first—and I wouldn’t have known to say anything if you hadn’t! And you’re asking us to do things knowing that we don’t understand, which must be frightening at least. You’re brave. And you shouldn’t be sorry.”

Rowan stares at her, unsure what to say in response. Never has anyone in his life freely offered such a sentiment. Never has anyone offered him something so generous without subsequent critique of Rowan’s intolerance for and impatience with their struggles to deal with him, praise softening the following reproval.

Brave.

His throat tightens and his eyes blur.

“Would you work with me on a proposal to put together for the submission forms? Damien insisted that I work with you, if you want to.”

“Uh … yeah?”

Melanie grabs a stack of papers from her desk and a chair. “I’ve gone through the old forms and highlighted passages. Do you want to read through and see if there’s anything I’ve missed or anything that should be left?”

He nods and takes the papers. Is this an alternate universe, the world flung upside down? Or, if people possess a minimum of decency, can he make needed change by addressing his problems instead of letting everyone talk over him? Can he build a world where he doesn’t endure cis or allo microaggressions by believing that their inconveniences aren’t worth more than his discomfort?

If his co-workers doesn’t object to correction, if they’re willing to make changes and investigate training, is the problem one of Rowan’s overreaction?

Does that mean he can talk to Matt the way he spoke to Melanie and Damien?

“Is something wrong?” Melanie asks, frowning.

Rowan shakes his head and plucks a pen from his frayro mug. “No.”

For the first time in a long time, that’s mostly true.

[stfuisaac]

hello hello it’s lucky again and,, sadly,, we don’t have the technology that makes the thoughts we have just.... appear onto our screens yet... so this took a hot sec and still isn’t perfect bc i don’t plan on proofreading :\ but! here,, is,, my new,, drummer boy,, parumpumpumpum

‹ avan jogia, he/him, cis man, bisexual. › ISAAC BAROT is the TWENTY-SEVEN year old from SAN JOSE, CALIFORNIA. when a friend asked them what they thought of the manor they said,  ❝ I HEARD THIS IS WHERE THEY DECIDED TO MAKE THE TWILIGHT ZONE. ❞ they claim GET OUT is their favorite scary movie, and if they were to die in a horror film they would BE OBLIVIOUS TO THERE EVEN BEING A KILLER UNTIL IT’S TOO LATE. their fears include MANNEQUINS, HITCH-HIKERS and DYING WITH NOTHING TO SHOW, and they don’t know we know, but… HE GOT INTO A (MUTUALLY) NEAR FATAL ALTERCATION WITH A STRANGER HE GAVE A RIDE TO (YES, HE WAS AN UBER DRIVER - HIS GREATEST SHAME). hope they enjoy their stay. ‹ PLATANCHOR requested by JOAKIM from STRESSED OUT penned by, LUCKY, 20, EST. ›

QUICK FACTS:

full name: isaac benjamin barot

date of birth: september 12, 1992

*does not perfectly reflect the below Big Three zodiac chart because that’s so much math

zodiac big three: virgo sun, taurus moon, libra rising

gender & pronouns: cis man & he/him

sexual orientation: bisexual

occupation: session drummer + lyft driver + ex-uber driver

mbti: entp

enneagram: 5w6

the song i listen to on repeat while i write the intro: “deja vu” - roger waters

BACKGROUND INFO:

alright. so.

isaac's backstory is neither tragic nor easy. his father was an immigrant who married his mother solely to get a green card (y’all, to be fair... the citizenship tests are whack). there wasn’t any real romance between the two, but the drop-ins always said otherwise. no, outside of putting on a show for government officials, isaac’s father and mother were friends at the best of times.

the best of times culminated in a son who grew up in an interesting dynamic. his father and mother never even attempted to be anything more than friends (with, as you can see, the occasional benefits). after the check-ins finally stopped, his father and mother even began sleeping in different rooms. his mother would trade in her queen for a double and replace the space his father used to take up with his cradle.

it was nothing like the ‘unhappy marriage’ trope, though... again, because they barely ever pretended to be married. they would take their wedding rings off when they went out with friends. sometimes they would even take off their rings around each other and talk the other up to someone attractive.

so it was unorthodox, but it was much better than his parents pretending to be in love in that way and giving him a skewed version of what romance should look like.

one down-side to it, though, was that isaac never knew who he was supposed to go to for what. usually it’s just a given that “if you need/want x, go to the matriarch, if you need/want y, go to the patriarch” but... what happens... when your parents are basically just your friends?

so thank god for growing up in the age of technology. like,, ya,, a literal baby can’t google things like “how to say ‘mom’” but a 15y/o can google “how to shave”

so... ya... his parents were his friends, the internet was his parent(s?).

one thing the internet couldn’t do? give him drums. it could introduce him to the likes of ringo starr, john bonham, keith moon, and ginger baker, but it couldn’t give him drums... not when he was only, like... 10, at least.

so he put a set on his christmas wishlist and figured they would divide amongst themselves.

so ya, his 10th christmas, he got a shitty little rockwood hohner kit that he would use for the next nine years.

he never received any professional training. again, he didn’t know who to ask and... youtube wouldn’t exist for another three years. he tried to teach himself using a few books and, if nothing else, figured out a few simple beats and how to gain independence.

after learning those simple little beats and not knowing if he wanted to buy the next book, he decided to take a break and, instead of going back to professional books, he’d just listen to some of his favorite tracks... most of which were ginger baker... which made things kind of hard when he only had one bass drum, two tom-toms, and one floor tom. those, plus the really low quality pearl cymbals. still, he did his best to make it work.

just a side-note that, because of videos of ginger, isaac used (and still uses, out of habit) a mix of traditional and matched grip.

he went back and forth between the books and mimicking the patterns of other drummers (mostly ginger) up until he was around 16 and his friend, ribs (y’all), decided to teach him a few more technical skills. what you want to learn for this song are polyrhythms, but those are hard and no, ginger isn’t using a crash there, he’s using a splash and do you want a discount on some better cymbals and drumheads from my parents’s music shop because this is a very functional kit but it kind of sounds whack

he continued using the same whack kit, but replaced the heads with aquarians, as per ribs’s recommendation (but evans and remo are also good) and, after literally examining baker’s kit, replaced the cymbals with various zildjian collections

even though we stan istanbul agop in this house.

he also started listening to more drummers than... pretty much just baker with a hint of john bonham, keith moon, and ringo starr. as his friend suggested, he tried out drummers like buddy rich, art blakey, travis barker, dave grohl, karen carpenter, neil peart, nick mason, simon phillips –– even was told to listen to ac/dc songs just to see how a successful band could be made using essentially the same beat over and over and over.

so now he had some split time. school. work. practice. figure out who the hell was making dinner that night/if there was someone making dinner last night because they might both be talking each other up.

although he applied to various colleges, and although some of these colleges actually accepted him, he ultimately decided not to go. instead, he moved from san jose to los angeles in the hopes that he’d find something bigger than himself... and a new drum set...

he found the latter in a ludwig kit with two bass drums, two tom-toms, and two floor toms. then he just added a bunch of stuff and tried to make it like ginger baker’s. pretty much spent all of his money on it and then some.

when his friends formed a band and found success, he was very very happy for them... but... he found himself stuck... driving ubers.

and lyfts!

he’d seen the twilight zone before. he loved that show. he’d seen the episode ‘the hitch-hiker,’ so he was really driving for the companies against his better judgment. 

his worst uber story? the time a guy got into the car, had pinged a location that was still marked as a store on the uber gps but had recently been torn down, and tried to attack him when they got there :\ he 110% fought back, though. was fired because the other guy was the one who made it out injured.

only drove for lyft after that :\

he did take on a few projects, but he... proved to be too much of a roger waters for people who just wanted to chill and have fun. there would be adverts for people who wanted to form a band and he’d be like “hell yeah! finally! a band!” then he’d get pissed that they advertised it so seriously but really... just wanted to jam. did not have any plans to try to do anything with it.

the few projects he did join that involved people who wanted to actually achieve success... if they were slacking, you best bet his inner roger waters came out! which is why he never stuck around in any projects for too long!

but ‘projects’ and ‘jam sessions’ were totally different. you want to do ‘wipeout’ in a project? he’s gonna take that intro that literally everyone on the planet knows SERIOUSLY. you want to do ‘wipeout’ in a jam session? LET’S HAVE SOME FUN WITH IT.

he does some session/studio drumming for other artists to make some extra money while doing something he genuinely enjoys... but... still... it is no project™

in between things right now, he got a call from joakim that, while muffled and staticky, sounded like it said ‘get here, please’ and clearly stated where he was.

of course, voicemail lines were crossed and many many many essential words were left out – words that were basically saying the exact opposite ahfsdkjl. the shadow’s really playin them :\

so here he is, in all his glory.

TL;DR:

i was gonna kms if i didn’t play another drummer, so this is my ginger baker fanboy whose parents were literally just best friends and, as a result, were also both his friend. the internet raised him. started playing drums when he was 10 on a low qual kit with low qual cymbals that his parents got him for christmas, but literally why would you get a beginning a good set? continued playing. eventually moved to los angeles and tried to form many successful projects, but was too much of a roger waters. was summoned up here by the shadow man fucking around joakim. his greatest shame is how many ubers he has driven.

PERSONALITY INFO:

he will always say his proudest moment was when he learned how to play ‘toad’ by ginger baker cream all the way through.

big ginger baker fanboy.

loves the twilight zone and will just spill a random fact out about it every now and again.

a lowkey control freak which completely goes against the way he dresses and the vibe he gives off. 

is only a dick about it if you’re part of one of his ‘projects’ but aren’t taking it seriously tho :\

ok i’m too tired 2 write a personality section rn when im already rly bad at them but!! again!! feel free 2 j refer to the zodiac big three + the personality types!!

FEARS:

mannequins: they’re already creepy enough when you really think about it, then you add in that episode of the twilight zone where the characters wake up in an unfamiliar house and go outside and basically everyone is just a mannequin? ya he hates mannequins.

hitch-hikers: so, as we have just seen, he’s had it bad enough with people who were registered to an app, paying, their personal information readily available, etc., etc... so then what would happen if it was just a complete and utter stranger who didn’t have any personal information, any ping, and was the sole focus of a different twilight zone episode? he... is going... to drive past you. he’ll feel bad about it, but...

dying with nothing to show: here’s the money shot! here’s the deep fear! as has been shown throughout, isaac craves success and some form of a legacy. if he dies with nothing to show for his life, then was his life ever worth it in general?

WANTED CONNECTIONS:

ok,,, it might be bc im tired rn,,, but i have the most basic list that will hopefully be updated tomorrow bc it is SO VERY BASIC:

friends

fwb

ons

exes

enemies (much easier to get on his bad side than it is w/ fluke)

BRAINSTORMING AND/OR SOMETHING FROM YOUR WANTED CONNECTIONS AND/OR WHATEVER YOU HAVE AN IDEA FOR!!!!

[sollea]

Dolorem et Consolationem Ch14

LeaIsa fic. Characters in chapter: Lea, Isa Words: 1838 Read the entire fic on AO3

Summary: Childish actions with dorks. 

“You know, you proposed to me in these letters at least three separate times,” Lea said, curled up on the couch against Isa. Roxas has found somewhere around twenty letters and had handed all of them over, letting Isa dwell in the embarrassment of them being found at all.

The kids had left them alone for about ten minutes after the letters were first given back, but had bounded down the stairs at top speed - Isa swore Roxas didn’t even bother touching the ground with how fast it happened - and announced they’d be leaving with Balsam. Apparently it was teenager-approved date night and the Twilight Town kids needed to meet ‘Xion’s baby puppy.’

Once the kids left, Lea and Isa sat down and stared at the letters for a while, Lea not sure if Isa really wanted him to read more than one. He did eventually read them all, by the time he was done, he was crying. Shaking Isa off with a smile, he read the letters again. And again. He never wanted to let them go, they were Lea’s new favorite possession.

“You should propose to me outside of the letters,” Lea mused, starting his favorite one over again. “We can be husbands, just like you apparently used to want.”

Isa’s cheeks turned red as he muttered something Lea couldn’t hear and turned to face away from the man leaning against him. Isa was cocky and liked to pretend to be cool and aloof, but that didn’t stop the stupid things Lea said from embarrassing him.

“What was that? Couldn’t hear you,” Lea said with a laugh, looking up as Isa from where he’d settled his head and grinning. “You did want to be married in these letters? You specifically say marriage at least once. C’mon, don’t be so shy.”

Isa coughed and continued to avoid making eye-contact with Lea. “I said, ‘no chance I’ll be asking you something like that.’ You only made it worse.”

“Aw, guess it’s up to me, then,” Lea said with a laugh, leaning up to kiss Isa’s cheek then settling against his chest again. “I’ll have to get down on one knee and confess how much I love you. Make a big speech and woo you with my love.”

“Wait, no,” Isa looked down at Lea in a moment of horror that confused Lea.

“What’s up?”

“I… want to propose to you.” It was almost hard for Lea to hear, but he was actively trying to listen and Isa didn’t turn away again. “You… deserve romance, despite what little I do for you.”

Lea just smiled and moved to kneel on the couch, cupping Isa’s face in his hand gently to move it so he was looking towards Lea. “Then take your time, I’m not going anywhere. Whatever you do, I’ll say yes. I’m not looking for romance, I’m looking for you.”

“You say, romantically,” Isa said with a small sigh, shaking his head. “I want to wait. There are things I want to do first.”

“Honestly? Me too. Wanna have my mom’s cabbage that you hate again before I get hitched.”

Isa laughed and nodded his head. “Well, just not in our house.”

“We’ve been living in my old house! You can’t tell my mom to not cook in her own house.”

“That was another thing I wanted to do before we do anything about getting married… I wanted to ask the restoration committee if they know of any homes they rebuilt that were previously vacant.” As Isa spoke, Lea relaxed against his chest again. Isa began to play with Lea’s unruly hair, brushing his fingers through it and smiling. “I wanted our own house to live in instead of your parents’ house. As much as I miss them, I’m not going to live with your parents when we get them back.”

“You sound optimistic. It’s a nice look.”

“I thought I might try it, you look so good with it.”

Lea laughed and placed the letters down, gently tucked under his leg so they wouldn’t fall from the couch if either of them moved too much. He turned his head and kissed Isa’s chest. “I love you.”

“I know you do.”

“Not gonna say it back?”

“You have the letters.”

“Alright, fine. You want one of the embarrassing things I did as a kid, then? Is that what it’s gonna take to get you to say things back to me again?”

“That fully depends on what it is, Lea.”

Lea moved the letters to the coffee table almost instantly, wanting to be able to show Isa what it was that had him so embarrassed as a child. When he got up, there was a hop to his step as he rushed to the stairs like a child, excited to show someone something. Lea looked back to Isa for a moment, just in time to see a look of affection settle on the man’s face, then bounded up the stairs with an excitement he’d only had prior to their deaths.

Lea returned and immediately held a small box out to Isa, grin spread on his face in a way that seemed like it’d be next to impossible to get it off. “I got these for you right before we started looking for the girl. One of them for you, one of them for me. Open it.”

Isa took the box, but hesitated in opening it. He looked up at Lea with a raised eyebrow, not sure why these things would be embarrassing if Lea was so excited. Slowly, he opened the box, a soft, warm smile spreading on his face as he looked at the contents. “Lea, these are beautiful. Did your parents buy them?”

“Nah, I saved up money all year. They were a lot, but… y’know, I thought giving you the sun would be a good way to ask you out if I wasn’t chicken about it. And I’d give you the moon if I was. Chicken.” Lea rubbed at the back of his neck and looked up, laughing. “They were real expensive for a kid, but they’re probably not worth that much now. Anyways. Necklaces. You can have whichever one.”

“You said I’d get the sun?”

“Yeah, ‘cause I wanted to be the sun to your moon. And I wanted you to know you’ve got me.”

Isa picked up the moon necklace and gestured for Lea to come closer. Lea listened, leaning over with a smile, he could see exactly where this was going. Finding himself right, necklace placed around his neck, he laughed.

“And you have me.”

“Aw, you’re being sappy,” Lea said with a laugh, happy to tease Isa for the exact thing he’d been planning on doing.

“You are not allowed to make fun of me for that if you ever want it to happen again,” Isa said with a faux-stern tone and a shake of his head as if he was trying to scold the redhead.

“Alright, alright, I’m sorry.” Lea rolled his eyes and sat back on the couch, laying across Isa’s lap and grinning up at him. “I’ve got you.”

“I’ve got an overgrown child is what I have.”

“You are an overgrown child, Isa,” Lea grumbled, not appreciating the implications that he was childish enough that Isa wasn’t up there with him.

“And I aim to grow out of that, I fail to see you doing the same.”

Lea huffed and reached around on the couch until he found a pillow, immediately throwing it at Isa’s face. Grumpy expression faded from Lea’s face as he laughed, having fun with his best friend again.

“You see? Childish behavior. That’s exactly what I was saying I’m trying to stop,” Isa said while simultaneously shoving Lea off his lap and onto the floor.

“Hey!” Lea sat up with comical speed, bouncing back before he looked up with a glare.

“I never said I was succeeding.” Isa shrugged and smiled, offering Lea a hand.

Eyeing it suspiciously, Lea slowly took it, not trusting Isa for one second. The mistrust was misplaced as Isa helped Lea back up onto the couch. Lea, however, wasn’t going to let this be done. He straightened his shirt and took in a breath, refusing to look at Isa, staying in this position for a few moments before acting.

He all but pounced on Isa, shoving him backwards and laying with his full weight on him. IT would’ve been awful for Isa when they were kids, but Lea was still just long and lanky and Isa had muscles now, he was more than able to support Lea’s weight.

“What exactly is your point here?” Isa asked, shaking his head and pretending to be wholly disappointed in his friend.

Lea huffed and sat up, straddling Isa and looking down, trying to figure out how to continue this. He shoved his hand in Isa’s face as he thought, making the normally straight-faced man squirm and try to pull away from Lea’s hand.

Laughing, Lea decided to stop trying to think of new ideas and just lean into what he was doing, muffling Isa’s voice and annoying him by keeping his hand on his face. Isa didn’t care for being touched like that and Lea knew how to stop before it got really bad.

“Lea, I swear, you’re ridiculous,” Isa said, annoyance clear despite his voice being quiet.

“Oh? Am I?”

Defeat seemingly accepted, Isa ragdolled on the couch and let Lea have his moment of victory before licking his hand. Lea, paralyzed by confusion, stared at Isa who, despite having his face covered by Lea’s hand, seemed to be gloating. Removing his hand, he glared at the man under him.

The only way to respond in Lea’s mind was even more childish than any action. He leaned down and pressed his nose against Isa’s, staying still for a few moments before moving to the side quickly and licking up Isa’s entire face.

Isa shoved Lea off the couch again, this time causing Lea to bring his elbow down, through the coffee table.

“Ow, fuck.”

Isa sat up quickly then slid to the floor next to Lea, worried he’d pushed the game too far with his shove. “Lea, are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine,” Lea grumbled, sitting up and rolling his shoulder, looking down at their poor coffee table. He gathered the letters and held them tightly in his hands. “Nothing a little cure won’t fix. I, uh… gotta agree with you on the ‘we should grow up’ thing, though. That might… be good for us.”

“Yeah. Start with brushing your teeth, we’ll get to the rest eventually.”

Lea rolled his eyes and gently shoved at Isa’s chest. “Shut up, I brush my teeth.”

“Then why does your breath still stink so bad?”

“It does not.”

“It does. Really, I’d suggest you go brush your teeth now before they fall out.”

“I hate you so much.”

Isa shook his head and leaned over to kiss Lea’s cheek. “I love you too.”