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#i can tell if a group picture was from my or my neighbour country
fouryearsofshades · 1 year
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regional hanfu styles?
i've always wondered if hanfu ever varied from region to region? what i've seen so far on hanfu makes it look like everyone wore the same styles across china but that seems so strange since most of chinese culture is very regional. so are there region specific hanfu styles or is hanfu really that general?
Hi!
It totally did historically. The further away a region from the centre of fashion (e.g. the capital) was, the more behind the fashion the region was. Usually the distinctions could be found in embroidery style, cut, length etc. I read that sometimes it could be a couple decades behind, especially in times of unrest and wars. A more recent example could be seen in Chinese diaspora in the late Qing, e.g. a Vancouver Chinese tend to dress in an older style then like say, Shanghai. Also last year a local hanfu tailor shop was submitted to a weibo tea account because it is too pricey for its old-school out-of-fashion products. (They do occasionally have some more "up-to-date" hanfu.) On the other hand, sometimes the royals would want to keep a look of "plain and simple", like in Ming dynasty, the fashion inside the Imperial Palace was lagging behind. When the clothing length and sleeves sizes increased in the South (Jiangnan area), the clothing inside the palace was kept shorter and fitter.
Modernly, since a lot of hanfu community is online, the distinction isn't as obvious, especially when most people buy hanfu online. There are distinction in materials and layering mostly due to the local climate, e.g. Guangzhou residents (in the south of China) might still be wearing a thin ao, while people in Beijing will have worn layers of wool, fur or dawn. Sometimes local communities of hanfu-ers would have a certain styles (either because there is a popular fashion icon in the group or they tend to bulk purchase from the same shop), but I usually can't tell them apart unless I am familiar with said group.
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soraviie · 1 year
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you bring him to your countryside.txt
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━ type: bts x gn! reader ━ navigation
━ pictures taken from Pinterest
━ about: fluff!
━ a/n: goes out for all my fellow ARMY's who grew up in the countryside and or really small towns
━ previously posted on soraviii
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NAMJOON: "Stop pretending like I'm kidnapping you," you growled as the car swerved down the familiar road leading up to the family house situated at the far reach of the country.
"I can't help it. It's so...quiet. Are you sure this is not an elaborate plot to get to meet your parents?" he counteracted nervously, throwing flighty glances to the bushy fields and the clear, limitless sky stretching above his head.
For what felt like the last time before your corneas would simply detach themselves, you rolled your eyes.
"And I keep telling you - no. They're leaving to travel and need someone to watch the house. You had some free time and I thought a bit of a country air would do both of us good. But if it's too much, city boy-"
Hearing the now everyday nickname he immediately rushed to disagree.
"No, no, it's wonderful!" he assured perhaps with a hysterical tint to his voice. "I'm just freaked out about what to say if your parents spring from the bush."
You shook your head at his antics, climbing out and stretching out the soreness of the drive only to soon discover Namjoon completely enamoured with his surroundings. The trees, the wind and the warmth of the sun - it all called to him, like a hot shower called to some after a long day of work. With a small smile, you watched him wander around, observing any insects he could find, the growing flowers, and the paths you had traipsed long before him. Already by the evening, it was a struggle to drag him inside, he had gone to lie down by the afternoon at first watching the clouds pass, then the stars twinkling in the night sky.
"This is idyllic," he sighed as you stood over his chair, then a mosquito landed in the middle of his forehead and in his neverending wisdom he smacked himself right in the face.
"If not for these bastards," he added with a self-conscious chuckle.
YOONGI: "I'll marry an old guy. A geezer!" you whined dramatically, watching Yoongi come back across the field, in his hand there swayed a bag of apples from one of the neighbouring ladies.
"Laugh some more and I won't cook for you anymore," he waved off
Life on this side of the country was quiet enough but with Yoongi, it was somehow quieter still. Except for the first night when he got drunk and belted to your horror to all the few residents in the nearby radius.
"DO YOU KNOW BTS?!"
You think someone had replied that their niece listens to them but that could also be a hallucination inspired by the second-hand embarrassment.
But it was healing in a way to watch Yoongi sit outside and simply drift off into the horizon. From the way, his shoulders bore less tension to the unhurried way he cooked meals, taking his time to do things properly, you knew it had been just the right time to rip him away from the city, away from his worries and rushes for deadlines.
"We still need to trim the grass before leaving," he hummed whilst cutting the melon. Sun would set soon and he had been enjoying watching sunsets with you. "Maybe I'll do that tomorrow."
"I'll hook you up in a group chat with the family," you snorted watching him work. "You can give your input on the flower selection."
"Don't laugh," he reprimanded with a faint lilt of playfulness. "Those hydrangeas in the corner are wilting too fast. They should be moved to a different spot."
"Dear lord," you rolled your eyes, though you couldn't stop smiling.
For the first time, perhaps ever, Yoongi was dragging his legs as you packed to leave. He paused by the open car door, inspecting the property with a longing, faraway look in the eye, lips tightened into a stern line.
"We can always return here. It's quite the trip but say the word and we can be here to rest," you assured him and he bit his lip.
"It's not even that, it's just... I just had thought how nice it would be to have a place like this of our own someday."
"It's the flower selection, isn't it," you nudged him with a hip and he laughed, shoulder shaking in mute amusement.
"Yes, I'm a tyrant when it comes to hydrangeas."
JIN: "Ow, goddamnit Jin!" you whined as his fishing tools poked you in the back of the head for the tenth time.
"Please, think of your love for me as you endure this torment," he said in all seriousness before glowering down to the GPS. "Are we going the right way? This is the middle of nowhere."
"Yes, we're going the right way," you assured, leaning out of the way his heinous fishing rod had decided to take. The familiar outlines of the neighbouring properties had breezed past in the corner of your eye.
"Wow, this place is seriously desolate. Did you have sheep as pets when you were a kid?"
You levelled him down with an unimpressed glare.
"Really? Sheep?"
"What, bears then?" he spread his eyes in comical terror. "Please don't tell me you have pet bears, ___________, that is horrifying!"
"The nearest neighbour has a chihuahua, does that terrify you?"
"Absolutely. Please, don't let that thing eat me! It should be a basic requirement for a partner," he added with a pout.
At the sight of the old country home, you began to squirm with joy. A bed, a kitchen with a meal and a rest, an inviting sight. The same couldn't be said about the trunk of the car, thrust to the brim with food and Jin's precious fishing supplies. No amount of explanation that there was a store available nearby, Jin had been convinced if not bringing half the town with him, he'd be left eating a mouldy piece of bread for the rest of the stay.
"______________! Hello!" a neighbour rushed forth. "Your mom said you'll be stopping by so here are some fresh vegetables, straight from the garden!"
"Thank you! You really shouldn't have," politely, you bid her whilst accepting the bag with eager arms.
"Say, weren't you supposed to have a boyfriend with you?"
You frowned, turning round to where Jin had just been standing only to of course find an empty spot.
"Oh, what a lionheart," you grumbled under your breath.
Jin had bounded through the house with great enthusiasm, enjoying the feel of it and some childhood pictures only for that joy to be promptly squashed when stumbling upon the entrance to the basement.
For a second, he stared into the damp darkness of it, completely frozen.
"Yeah, I'm never going down there," he nodded to himself, shutting the door tightly behind himself.
HOSEOK: When you felt his arm encircle your waist again, you didn't bother opening your eyes anymore and simply growled in a warning:
"Hoseok."
"I swear this place is haunted," he whispered back, trying to discreetly scooch closer.
For a while peace of a sleepful night had taken root again but it was then promptly torn out when Hoseok whimpered at the sound of the tree hitting the window.
"Hoseok, It's just a branch," you grunted. "I love you but please just sleep."
You don't know what sort of reality he saw at night but the house which he'd been enamoured with during the day was now his personal carousel of horrors. It creaked and groaned as any old country house did but to Hoseok they were omens of misfortune, tales of ghosts and whatnot.
"It's too quiet," he complained in your ear. "There's no one around. No one to hear us scream if anything happens."
"I'll be your knight in the shining armour should any murderers come this way," you assured him, tiredly. "And if you don't accept that I'll kill you myself if you keep waking me up. Now go. To. Sleep!"
He grumbled something about you being heartless but kept quiet for the remaining night.
"You know, _______, I think it's not that bad," lightly, he exclaimed stretching in the morning sun as you inspected the deep circles underneath your eyes. Soon it will look like someone had punched you.
"I think I'm starting to like this place," he added, joyously. This was what he had said three nights before already.
JIMIN: "You know there is a shop here, right?" you panted unloading his seventh suitcase from the car. Fetching his numerous tonns of clothes and "what if's" in the sweltering heat of the midday sun was not something you envisioned when planning to bring him here.
"Yes, but...better to be safe, right," he pouted and you sighed, taking in your hands suitcase no. 9.
"Is this your great grandmother?" he asked in a hush, once inside. Eyes wide and respectful he took everything in, inspecting and commiting to memory every bit of what had once been a great part of your life.
You glanced at the old picture he was pointing at, dragging the suitcases into the bedroom.
"Yes. That's my grandfather and grandmother in the smaller picture to the left."
Jimin bowed politely towards them.
"Hello! Thank you for bringing into the world the love of my life," he bid them earnestly and you smiled.
"Your love would appreciate you dragging your own pants. How many did you pack?!"
He lingered in the doorway, suddenly appearing deceptively demure.
"Maybe ten or more... Anything can happen!"
You sighed and it too was promptly interrupted by a curious:
"Are there any animals here? Like something you see on a farm?"
"There are a lot of stray cats," you explained, lying on the bed exhausted. "But don't you go sticking your face into every cat you meet! It doesn't matter how cute they are, you're still allergic!"
As only silence followed your suspicion surged and upon cracking open your eyes, you saw him already halfway into the field outside, hand stretched and inviting coos falling from his mouth, eagerly welcoming the tabby cat sitting and minding his business at the edge of the property.
"Oh, fucking hell, Jimin," you cursed, ripping open one of the smaller bags. Well at least in between the hundred skincare products, lotions and three - three! - whole bottles of lube, he at least had the foresight to chuck his medication in there as well. You grabbed it before hauling your ass outside like a devil possessed.
"Sir! Put the cat down! Jimin, no!"
TAEHYUNG: "This reminds me of my childhood," he sighed wistfully, watching the road rush past by, holding drowsing Yeontan in his arms.
"It's nice, isn't it," you hummed. "Just a little bit left."
Taehyung took to the country quickly though Yeontan? Not so much.
"He's a real city boy my Tan," Taehyung laughed, watching Yeontan sleep yet another hour away in the middle of the bed like a small, tyrannical prince.
"Hey, ___________," you got any more spare cash?" he called out amidst the relative bustle of farming vendors.
"Goat cheese?!" you called out, reading the display sign of a slyly grinning seller, clearly having smelt an eager purchase. "Do you even like goat cheese?"
"It's got walnuts in it!" he eagerly pointed at a fairly large chunk weighing on the scales.
"Yes, I can see it's got walnuts but will you eat it is the question?"
"Oh, I can't get things like this in the city. Please?"
You threw what was meant to be an assertive look over the many bags he was dragging with, all under the pretence of rarity and impossibility of finding in the city. He was being quite thoroughly scammed but the wet, sopping eyes worked their wonders all the same.
"We'll get a half of that piece," tiredly, you piped up. The cut was decidedly of the proverbial bigger half and with a deep sigh, you gave the money away. It had flown like sand grains in a storm. Homemade marmalade and marshmallows, apple cider and something that had neither markings nor colour sat at the very top of one of his bags, there was no small chance he had actually bought something from every stall but it made him happy so begrudgingly you trailed after Taehyung as he skipped back home with all of his bags and a bright smile etched on his face.
The goat cheese, however, remained quite untouched, despite the walnuts.
JUNGKOOK: "I'm not telling him that," you replied, eyeing the rain pour down the side of the window and deep puddles forming into the indents of the grass. Jungkook was definitely caught in the midst of the downpour.
"He's there, isn't he?" your mother grumbled on the phone. "A young and capable son-in-law should help out."
"Mom, we're not married yet."
"Eh, few years give or take. Technicalities."
You sighed again.
"Mom, we're here to rest, both of us are, stop exploiting my boyfriend for manual labour."
Just then the doors opened and Bam ran in, leaving behind him wet paw prints. Jungkook too was dripping like he had just taken a shower though the weather had not lessened a bit of that smile.
"Bam! Come here. Don't go in all wet!"
Once sufficiently dry, both of them, he quickly found his way to your side, one hand aggressively brushing a towel over his wet hair, the other reaching to grab you by the waist.
"Is it your mother?" he asked in a whisper and you nodded. In a flash, the phone was yanked out of your hands.
"Hello, ma'am. Yes. You too. Firewood? Sure. Oh, the grass. Yes I can do that. The flowers? Yes. Wait let me write it down."
Unimpressed, you sat by the kitchen table, watching him scribble down a progressively more expansive list of chores, ranging from trimming the grass to hauling down a chair from the attic.
"Yes, I got it. Yes, thank you, ma'am. It's really no trouble. Yes, you too. Goodbye."
Silence followed the end of that conversation.
"What?" he questioned innocently and with some offence.
"You know why I brought you here, right?" you grunted. "It was to bounce on your dick without worrying about the noise."
Jungkook's ears immediately sweltered and a pout formed on his lips.
"I can be a great upcoming son-in-law, help your parents out and still give the best dick in your life. I'm a man of great capability."
At the end of the day, you found both him and Bam promptly passed out with no sign of ever waking up as they both snored to their absolute content.
"Man of great capability, my ass," you growled.
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© soraviii/soraviie 2022-2023
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newsnigeria · 10 months
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The 'Foolish Man' and his mega refinery complex
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Chief Bayo Onanuga writes; Some years ago, Aliko Dangote, Africa's richest man invited media leaders to a luncheon at the Protea Hotel in Ikeja to mark his 55th birthday. Some of his guests sat around him at the centre table. They chatted freely. Discussions about our country, and the state of the economy soon veered into discussing the absurdity of our country, being a major crude exporter, and also a major importer of refined petroleum products. Our colleague from a major business paper said the local conditions were unfavourable to any investor who wanted to build a refinery. He then made a remark that I believe he would live to regret: "Only a foolish man will build a refinery in Nigeria". Aliko who had listened to all our business and political pontifications, interjected: "I am that foolish man". A pin-drop silence enveloped the table as he dropped the unexpected news: "My company has just decided to build a refinery in the country. But we are doing it big". Those were his exact words, as the multi-dollar billionaire told us he was willing to spend close to $9 billion on the project. The media big man became speechless. The rest of us caught the contagion of being flummoxed as well, as Aliko expatiated on the project. He said it will be a petrochemical complex. As the project was still on the drawing board, he did not tell us it will be the biggest refinery in the world, capable of processing 650,000 barrels of crude daily. All the hint he gave was that it will be 'big'. Our takeaway was that it will be big like Aliko's involvement in cement, sugar, pasta, and other businesses. He didn't say it will include a fertilizer plant and a power plant that can supply enough electricity to Nigeria's South West, excluding Lagos. Initially billed for Ogun State, the Dangote Petroleum Refinery surprisingly shifted location to Lagos, just opposite the creek separating the two states. Governor Dapo Abiodun may want to probe his predecessor, Ibikunle Amosun, why he allowed the complex to move to neighbouring Lagos. The gigantic project, which cost $15 billion, is now sitting in all majesty in the Lekki Free Trade Zone in Ibeju-Lekki, covering a land area of approximately 2,635 hectares, seven times the size of Victoria Island. The complex is the world’s Largest Single-Train 650,000 barrels per day Petroleum Refinery with 900 KTPA Polypropylene Plant. It comes with a 435 MW Power Plant, which will be able to meet the total power requirement of Ibadan DisCo of 860,316 MWh covering five States including Oyo, Ogun, Osun, Kwara, and Ekiti. The refinery, according to its fact sheet, can meet 100% of the Nigerian requirement for all refined products, including Gasoline, Diesel, Kerosene, and Aviation Jets. It will also be able to produce a surplus of each of these products for export. Designed for 100% Nigerian Crude, the refinery has the flexibility to process other crudes. No wonder it is located near the seashore. Today President Muhammadu Buhari commissioned the gigantic petrochemical complex. Just as we rejoice with Aliko Dangote and the Dangote Group family, we need to give kudos to the Buhari administration for ensuring that the complex comes to fruition, by ensuring that it was not starved of needed foreign exchange and taking a stake in it. For Aliko, all is well that ends well. The complex will bring to an end our country's many decades of shame, for being unable to refine its crude and having to depend on importation, wasting scarce forex. The 'foolish man' of 11 years ago has demonstrated once again that he is a man of wisdom, a peerless shrewd investor who sees clearly the 'bigger picture' when his compatriots are bogged down by parochialism and immediate monetary gains. Read the full article
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tetsunormous · 3 years
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Reencounters
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pairing: Matsukawa Issei x f!reader
genre: college au, friends to lovers, smut (18+), fluff
word count: 6.5K
warnings: cunnilingus, fingering, vaginal penetration, unprotected sex, creampie, swearing, nipple play, pinning
A/N: This is for Ria's @bakugohoex's rich boy collab 💜 Congrat's on 3k!! thank you to @ohno-otome and @armins-futon for reading this for me. I love matsukawa but I don't write for him often so this has been really fun :)
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Walking into your new dorm room, you weren’t sure what to expect. Sure, you’ve seen the pictures online, but there’s nothing like the slightly dusty window letting in a hazy ray of light shining down onto the slight dip in the middle of the mattress you now call your own. Your desk almost touched the corner of your twin-sized bed, and your new bookshelf barely has enough room to fit half of the books you brought, but this was your new life. It didn’t dawn on you just how different university would be until you arrived this morning, but here you were, unpacking all your clothes into the cramped closet in the corner. Luckily, you’re in the building where you had a single room. Privacy was something you were worried about, and the communal washrooms will be something to get used to, but either way, this was a new start, and no matter how nervous you are, you’re grateful for it.
High school wasn’t terrible, but it definitely wasn’t what you expected it to be. Going into it, you obviously knew that it would be nothing like how the movies depicted, but you were excited. How bad could those four years really be if you had your best friend right by your side? He was incredible. He understood you better than anybody else, would be able to tell how you were feeling without the exchange of words, but most of all, he was your person, and you were his.
There was no doubting that in all your years of friendship.
But alas, like all good things in life, they must come to an end.
The summer going into the twelfth grade, he was longer your best friend. The boy that would go to the farmers market with you and your mom every other Sunday was now lining up for the newest sneaker drop. The boy that would rather spend the night at home and binge-watch your shared comfort show for the seventh time is now out with the boys sneaking into shisha bars and doing donuts in the community centre parking lots with their new cars. You watched as he slowly forgot about you, getting caught up in his new friendships and obsessing over material items that he never cared about before. It’s not that you were upset he found new friends. It’s that the only time he would reach out was to randomly drop off something he had bought you in hopes it would make up for him blowing you off again.
They started small, simple sweaters he knew you would like, but the gifts became almost ridiculous as time passed. He would never let you return them either, so now you have designer shoes for imaginary banquets. Of course, you were always grateful, but you would trade all his gifts just to spend time with him again. His family has always been wealthy, they always went on lavish vacations and drove the nicest cars, but you never really cared about what he spends his money on or just how much his parents make. You cared that he saw you as a person he wanted to be with rather than just someone he could shove gifts towards to make up for the quality time he’d miss.
But now you’re here. You were arriving three hours before the suggested move-in time because you didn’t want to be rushed to unpack before orientation starts later. You’ve seen a few people walking around on your floor, but neither of your neighbours have arrived, and honestly, you don’t mind because that means you’re able to blast your music without worry. As The 1975 fills your room, you stand still for a second, really taking in where you are. You’re now attending one of the best schools in the country, living on your own with a floor of people you don’t know yet. It starts to sink in that you are starting anew. The people who end up in the rooms next to you might just end up being your lifelong friends. As the song comes to an end, you decide it’s time to try to make yourself look a little more presentable since it’s almost time for people to start rolling in.
...
It’s almost five in the afternoon, and everyone on your floor is meeting outside on the field for a quick introduction before group dinner. You’re sitting with your knees pressed to your chest as the girl next to you tries to make small talk. To be fair, she’s incredibly sweet, but you can’t focus on her because somewhere behind you, there is a voice you think you recognize. There’s no way he would be here. Sure, you have no idea what school he ended up choosing, but if he ended up here, he would’ve at least texted you. Right? Before you can confirm your suspicions, orientation starts, and your group leader is already talking with more energy than you can handle.
The group of guys settle down close by, and you can’t stop yourself from looking over, wondering if you’ll see the head of brown curls. Instead, you’re met with a bunch of frat boy looking wannabes that instantly make your eyes roll. To say you’re disappointed that you didn’t see him was so stupid. It’s been over a year, yet here you were, hoping to magically bump into him as if this was some cliche movie. If anything, it’s frustrating. It’s frustrating that even though he stopped caring for you, you still longed to see him, to hear him laugh at one of your cheesy jokes. It’s even more frustrating that this new start you’ve been looking forward to, makes you miss him even more.
There are only sixteen people on your floor, but introductions take a lifetime because someone didn’t come on time. When they finally do show up, you almost laugh at this whole situation because, of course, it was him. Of course, he was strutting down the courtyard in some brand new Gucci sneakers and the same Balenciaga sweater he had bought for you a few months ago. Of course, the annoying group of boys behind you gesture for him as he quickly apologizes to the group leaders. And, of course, when you make eye contact, he’s the one looking at you with a mixture of shock and annoyance.
Quickly rushing back to your room after the meeting, you decide you’re ordering in tonight so that you don’t have to see him for at least another day. This is all so fucked up. You wrack your brain trying to understand how probable this whole situation is because, frankly, it feels like a sick joke, and on top of it, he’s the one annoyed?
Naturally, you spend the rest of the night unpacking the rest of your things before ordering your comfort food to wash down all the feelings you’re experiencing. Putting on your favourite show, you begin your tenth rerun as you bury yourself in your blankets. Part of you feels so stupid for completely ignoring your initial dinner plans, but you knew with the mindset you had at the moment, there was no way you would have enjoyed yourself. It’s a bit silly you haven’t left your room since picking up your takeout, you don’t even know who lives beside you, but that’s a problem for tomorrow.
Slipping into your slides, you head towards the washroom with your little toiletry bag. You pass by the girl you were sitting with earlier, and she sends you a smile. After apologizing for disappearing all night she just laughs and assures you nothing happened. She even points out where her room is if you were up to hang out tomorrow during frosh activities.
Just this interaction makes you feel better, and you quietly hum along to the familiar tune coming from the shower stall.
He used to play this song all the time, claiming it spoke to him the first time he heard it. Since then, it became the song he would play anytime he’d come to pick you up, explaining how this song is special because the ending always reminded him of you. It didn’t matter how long it’s been since the two of you hung out. Every time you heard ‘Pluto Projector,’ it would always bring a smile to your face. You even tried to show the song to your ex-boyfriend, but he never paid attention to your suggestions. He always claimed that his music taste was better. Thankfully that relationship only lasted a couple of months, but still, the regret of not waiting for someone worthy lingers in your mind.
While applying your moisturizer, you hear the water shut, the person pausing the song right as the orchestra starts to come in. Worried about who you may run into, you quickly pack up your stuff. You hear the click of the lock, and as you turn around, you’re met with him, with his curly hair all damp and his obnoxious teal blue robe wrapped loosely around his waist.
Rushing past him, you briskly walk towards your room, but before you can close the door, his foot jams between the doorframe. He pushes his way in and quietly closes the door, only to be met with the unimpressed look on your face. He circles around your room, eyes searching for any trace of your past friendship before standing back at the door.
“What do you want, Matsukawa?” you ask impatiently. It’s bad enough you run into the one person you wanted to forget, but now he’s standing in your room with a matching frown.
Something indescribable flashes across his eyes, and you can visibly see his frown deepen at your question. Leaning against your door, his arms come up to rub over his face, peeking at you through his fingers before letting out a long sigh. “When did I become Matsukawa? I thought I was Issei.”
You can’t help the chuckle that escapes your lips, and you realize how childish your grudge might be, but he has changed, and the man standing in front of you isn’t the same man you once called your best friend. “When you changed, Matsukawa. Issei was my best friend, and YOU are not.”
His eyes filled with confusion as his eyebrows furrow, taking a step forward towards you. “I’m sorry? I tried to stay in touch with you. You’re the one that stopped talking to me, so I’d try to send you things instead. How was I the one who changed?”
You stand there, staring at him for a second before shaking your head. “I can’t do this right now; I want to have a good day tomorrow, so I need to go to sleep. Please, leave my room.”
His eyes soften a little, and you can see a faint glimpse of his infamous lazy smile, “We both know you’re not going to be sleeping anytime soon,” he stalks over and kicks his slides off before sitting at the end of your bed. “Let’s talk about this because, frankly, I’m tired of watching you decide if you hate me every time you see me.”
The nerve of this man. The fact that he invites himself into your room, declares his stay, and then sits on your bed without permission. You don’t even know if he’s wearing anything under that robe as his hair is literally dripping onto your comforter. Regardless of what the situation is, this action alone has you seething. Turning towards your desk chair, you harshly pull out the slightly imbalanced piece of wood and sit down, silently questioning why he isn’t the one on the chair.
He watches you stomp around, and he kinda chuckles at your little tantrum, missing how easy it was to rile you up. Your glare at him would be a little scary if he didn’t see the way your lips mumbled to yourself. It’s honestly a little cute to watch you all frustrated with him even though he saw one of the shoes he bought you in your closet. Sure, they look brand new, but the fact that you brought them here with you must mean something.
The year you two spent apart has been really stressful on Matsukawa. He thought that you’d be happy that he could give you everything you wanted. He knew he wasn’t spending as much time with you as he used to, but he thought the gifts he spent hours lining up for would make up for it.
When you stopped returning his calls and texts, he was crushed. Everyone could see how he felt about you, but then he watched you get close to another man. Within two weeks, you were dating him, and he was left watching from a distance. Neither of you ever confirmed your feelings for each other, but he could tell that man wasn’t making you happy. He didn’t understand your different facial expressions, he didn’t care about what you had to say, but all he could do was watch the girl he wanted from the sidelines.
Sure, as time went on, Matsukawa also started talking to other girls. None of them ever became his girlfriend, he didn’t think it was fair to get with someone when he was set on you, but he had his fair share of hookups. He has money, a shit ton of it, but he never let that get to his head. It wasn’t his fault that he gained popularity when he started to get into name brands and upgraded his car, but none of that ever changed who he was — at least not to the degree you had him pinned.
He watches you carefully, your leg bouncing impatiently as your eyes glare daggers in his direction. He runs his hand through his hair and lets out a sigh, “what did I do wrong? You didn’t even give me a chance to fix whatever I did (y/n).”
The lamp in the corner of your room shines a dim yellow hue onto his features. His brows are knitted in concern as he leans forwards on his knees, his robe showing off a deep v down his chest. You can feel yourself freeze up at his question, goosebumps covering your skin, while your eyes pour into his. “You changed Matsukawa. You stopped making an effort to be there. I’m not some girl you can just buy with all your money. I have never cared about how much you have or what you can afford -- you know that! It doesn’t matter what. I always split things with you because I never wanted you to feel like I was there for your money. But then suddenly, you just stop showing up. You wouldn’t even tell me you made other plans, and I would just open my door to find some package you dropped off.”
His eyes search your face before letting out a deep sigh. “I tried! You wouldn’t answer any of my calls, I know I stopped explaining myself, but can you blame me? Don’t you think I want to take you around and introduce you to all my friends? Don’t you think I miss going on late-night drives with you to 7-11? Every time I would drive past there, you’re all I thought about. You and your stupid obsession with cheese taquitos and Arizona tea. Did you even think about how I felt when you decided to act like I don’t exist?” He hastily stands up and paces around in the confined space of your dorm room. He never raises his voice, so hearing him talk at a slightly louder volume was enough to let you know he was dead serious. “You know, I never stopped talking highly about you because as selfish as it is, those boys have an important family. They have the connections you dream about (y/n), so even when you started to ignore me to go out with that fucking ex-boyfriend of yours, I never said anything.”
He looks at you with pleading eyes before going to sit back down, his elbows now resting against his thighs. “I know you don’t care about my money, but I didn’t know how else to tell you I was still thinking about you. I tried to get you things that you’d like, things that you’d wear. But no, I had to watch you put on a fake smile and laugh at that asshole’s jokes while you stubbornly ignored me to the point I thought you had me blocked.”
Looking up at you through his curls, his hooded eyes looked darker before. His lips curled into a forced smile as he let out a breathy chuckle, “he didn’t deserve you. But what do I know, right?”
You sat there quietly, taking in what he had just said. You didn’t realize how hurt he was. To be frank, up till now, you were so consumed by your feelings, and you failed to consider his own. His head is hanging between his hands, and the silence in your room right now is insufferable. He’s just explained himself, yet all you can do is scoff at yourself. While you were obsessing over the fact that Matsukawa wasn’t coming over to watch another rerun of your favourite show, he was out picking out different gifts he thought you’d like. You didn’t even open the last few because your own emotions so blinded you. Hearing him take a deep breath, he stands up and smiles sadly at you, “nice talk, (y/n). Thanks for listening.”
“I’m sorry, Issei.”
He lifts his head to meet your gaze, and you can visibly watch as his shoulders relax. It’s been too long since he’s heard you call him by his first name.
“I’m sorry too. I should’ve just gotten out of the car to talk to you.”
You look at him with a small smile. Walking towards your bed, you sit down and pat the spot beside you, pulling him in for a hug. His robe is probably the softest thing you’ve ever felt in your life, your fingers sinking into the fabric as you hold him close. His arms are immediately wrapping around you, and you both stay like that for a minute before you pull back, a faint blush blooming on your cheeks.
“No, you have nothing to apologize for. You tried reaching out to me, you tried explaining yourself, but I didn’t even give you a chance. I’m sorry. I can’t believe I was so caught up I didn’t even think about what you were feeling. The fact that you still wanted to introduce me to your friends, even after all the stuff I did to you….I’m so sorry, Issei.”
He gives you a playful smile and lightly nudges your shoulder with his, “yea, that was kinda unfair, but good thing we talked it out, huh?”
You flash him a sheepish smile, but your eyes glimmer with happiness, “yea, it’s good you barged into my room at two in the morning. Just like old times.”
His smile instantly grows at your playfulness, and he gives you a mock scoff. “I’m sorry, but if I remember correctly, you’d beg for me to stay over at two am cause you decided you wanted to watch a scary movie. Have you gotten better with horror movies this year, or are you still as jumpy as I remember?”
The tip of your ears growing warm while you mutter out a quick “shut up.”
His laughter makes your heart beat against your chest because you missed it so much. It’s been a while since you got to hear him laugh with you, and without even thinking, you go in for another hug.
His arms easily hold you close, and one of his massive hands reaches up to pet your hair. “Missed me, didn’t you?” he asks, and you can feel him smirking, so you just nod, your fingers playing with the damp, short curls at the base of his nape.
“Issei?” you ask with a little murmur against his neck.
“Hmmm?”
You smile to yourself and pull back a little, so you can see his face, “so other than hanging out with your friends and keeping up with my relationship, what else have you been doing?”
His face drops as he looks at you with a deadpan stare, the corners of his mouth twitching up in a smile as you giggle at his reaction. He pushes you back, so you end up falling onto your mattress, his long limbs effortlessly straddling your legs. Before you can think about the position you’re in, his fingers start to poke all-around your torso, causing you both to laugh as he starts to tickle you. “You think you’re funny, huh?” His hands go to tickle your worst spot as he starts to talk, but you can’t hear him over your own laughter. His fingers slow down, but you keep giggling when you’re met with his lazy smirk, “I’m trying to talk, you know. It’s rude you’re laughing when I’m trying to speak to you.”
He leans forwards and has both hands resting at the side of your head. Your faces now inches apart, the faint smell of sandalwood from his body wash now becoming more apparent. You stare into his brown eyes, and it almost feels as if everything stopped for a few seconds. The lamp in your room doesn’t do him justice as the shadows of his face wash over his features, but even then, his eyes stare back at you with a slight twinkle as you catch your breath.
Reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck and you tug him close, crashing his lips onto yours. The sweet hints from his beloved Burt’s bee’s lip balm make his lips even softer than you imagined. The kiss is short, but as you both pull away, he’s staring at you with a goofy smile.
“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that, (y/n).”
“Me too, Issei,” you whisper back before his lips capture yours again, this time with more confidence. This kiss is much more passionate than the last, holding onto each other in hopes of deepening it. One of his hands travels down to grab your waist, his tongue sweeping across your bottom lip, asking for permission. Your lips part and your tongues swirl together effortlessly while your hands play with his hair, pulling him closer into your body.
His hand feels a little rougher than before against your bare skin because of how often he trains, running down the length of your leg. The light touch of his fingertips admires how smooth your skin is before they trail back up, stopping just before the edge of your pyjama shorts. Hooking your leg around his hip, he leans into your body even further and even nips at your bottom lip.
Matsukawa smirks and whispers against your lips, “did he ever kiss you like that?”
Slightly surprised at the question, you shake your head, answering honestly. “He never made me feel the way you do.”
You watch as his eyes dilate, flickering into a deep brown you’ve never seen on him. The hand that was previously on your leg is now cupping your cheek, stroking your face softly, while his own face blooms into a rare shade of pink. Still, his words are clear, “please...give me a chance? He never treated you right. Let me take care of you?”
Words can’t describe how his question made you feel. You spent years learning about Matsukawa, understanding him to the point where words weren’t necessary to see what was happening in his head. Not once did you think he reciprocated your feelings, let alone want to be with you. Yet, here you are, caged beneath his arms as his hopeful eyes pour into yours.
Turning your head slightly, you press a kiss onto his hand and smile. “Please?”
His face breaks into a smile. His cheeks are tinted rose as the corners of his mouth reach up to his eyes. Leaning down, he peppers kisses onto your face, the loose curls on his head tickling your cheeks as he giggles with you. The kisses trail down to your jaw, and he follows the natural curve of your jawline to your ear. “Is this okay?” he whispers softly, only continuing down this path when you give him a curt nod.
Your legs tighten around his waist when he begins to press open mouth kisses down your neck, gently nipping at the spots that make you let out shy little sounds. His tongue leaves kitten licks against your skin after he’s sucked on it, littering faint marks. Seeing you with light hickeys on the base of your neck and collarbones is completely self-indulgent for him. Thinking about waking up in the morning and seeing the marks he knows he gave you makes him inexplicably happy as he sucks particularly hard, causing you to wince.
Immediately he stops and turns to you, “I’m sorry, did I hurt you? D’you wanna stop?”
His concern for you is truly a breath of fresh air compared to what you had before. Shaking your head, you guide his hands to the edge of your sweater. “You bought this for me… it’s only fair I let you take it off.”
He studies your face for a second before his lips curl into a lazy smirk, quickly pulling the overpriced sweater off your body. He takes a sharp inhale when you reveal you aren’t wearing anything underneath as he’s met with your beautiful tits, nipples hard and pointed. “You let me in here knowing you weren’t wearing a bra? And here I thought you were a good girl.”
Noticing how your legs tighten around him, he smirks even wider. Leaning back down, his kisses trail down to your chest, and his lips feel soft and warm against your skin. His fingers take hold of your chin and force you to look down on him while his lips wrap around your nipple, the tip of his tongue flicking gently at the hardened bud. His hand palms against the fatty flesh of your other tit; his fingers are rolling your nipple before tugging on it experimentally.
Suddenly feeling shy, your arms come up to cover your face slightly just to have him lace his fingers with yours, pulling your arms away. “Don’t hide from me. Let me see how pretty you look. Let me hear how good I make you feel, okay?”
“I’ve never had someone play with my tits like this…”
He just stares at you, brows knitted as his smirk turns into a slight pout. “You’re with me now; that means every part of your body will be pleasured. I wanna hear and see all of you, okay?”
With a shy nod, you gently roll your hips against him, inviting more of his attention.
He kisses you once more, murmuring against your lips, “you’re so beautiful. Let me know if I’m going too fast, okay?”
His lips follow down your body once more, lightly biting your tit before using the flat part of his tongue to feel the valley between your chest. Matsukawa lets out a low moan as you arch upwards, pushing yourself closer to his touches. Letting go of your hands, he begins to massage the soft flesh of your tits and kiss down your stomach, the tip of his tongue trailing against the waistband of your shorts.
“Let me hear you ask for it; I don’t wanna do something you don’t want.”
“Isseiiii, please?” you whine out, the tip of your ears turning hot at the thought of asking for his tongue.
He smirks at you, looking up through his hooded eyes and tsks. “Be a good girl for me. Use your words.”
His words go straight to your pussy, and you can’t help the doe eyes look in your eyes when you whimper out, “please, Issei? Wanna feel your mouth on me.”
You watch as he takes in a sharp breath, the hunger in his eyes shining through despite the dim lighting in your room. He tugs at the end of your shorts until they’re completely off, repositioning himself lower until your legs are resting around his biceps. His eyes zone in on the way a sheer layer of slick coats your lips, happy that the attention he’s been giving you has pleased you. As he shimmies down on your bed, his legs now supporting himself on the floor, he nestles himself between your legs, easily spreading your things open with his arms. Sending you a knowing smile, he blows cool air directly onto your clit, loving how your walls flutter for him.
“You’re so sensitive, baby.”
“No one’s ever made me feel like this before...want more, please?”
You look down at him with pleading eyes, your hands cupping his face when you speak. Pressing a quick peck to your hand, he hips his head down and traces your pussy lips with his tongue, savouring how you taste.
The gasp that you let out once you felt his touch was adorable. It suddenly became the sound Matsukawa will chase after the more he gets to know your body and what it likes. He takes one long lap up your pussy, stopping just before your clit and using his fingers, he spreads your lips even more. Once your clit is all exposed, he flicks it gently with the tip of his tongue, looking up at you with all the confidence in the world. Hearing your little moans make him greedy for more, for more desperate and needy sounds, so he goes to press a kiss onto your bundle of nerves. Feeling you twitch beneath him, he gently places his lips around the sensitive bud and sucks earnestly, relishing in the way you buck your hips and call out his name. After a while of pure clitoral stimulation, he leans back up to watch your eyes blink back into focus on his face, a silly dazed smile on your face.
He winks at you and sticks his tongue into your drooling hole, swirling it around to feel the walls of your pussy clench around him. His fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs as he nuzzles his nose against your clit, his cock getting unbearably hard at the way you pant our pleas.
“I-issei! Please….need you inside, please!”
Coming back up for air, his hand leaves your thigh as his fingers start to tease around your hole, loving how your pussy clenches around nothing. So needy for his touches when he’s barely even started. He knows your orgasm was building, but he wants to take his time with you. You mean the world to him, and seeing you like this already makes him feel like the luckiest man at the moment.
Taking two of his fingers, he coats them in all your slick before slowly pushing them inside you. His eyes squeeze shut when he feels how tight you are, his mind immediately thinking about how you’d feel wrapped around his cock. When he’s finally inside, he pulls out slowly before sliding them back in, loving how you beg for more.
“Need more, please, Issei! Go faster, please.”
Your hands pull his head up to kiss you while his fingers begin to speed up. With the lewd sound of his hand slapping against your sopping wet pussy, his palm is applying pressure to your clit. Your moans are lost in your kisses, his other hand going back to playing with your sensitive nipple.
“I have to stretch you out, babygirl. I don’t want my cock to hurt you.”
All you’re able to do is nod as his fingers start to scissor your hole, stretching you out even more. His fingers, now knuckle deep, curl against your sweet spot, making you grip onto his hair as he swallows all your cries, suddenly remembering that the walls in this dorm probably aren’t that thick.
His fingers curl into you more, whispering sweet praises as his hand teases and tugs on your swollen nipple. Everything happened so quick, and you’re cumming all over his hand, your sweet sticky arousal covering his fingers as he slows down. Matsukawa is smiling down at you, “you did so well, baby. Bet that felt really good, huh?”
Maybe you’re needy or just horny, but even after your orgasm, you start tugging the tie that keeps his robe up. Your legs are sore, sorer than they’ve ever been, but all you can think about is how full you would feel with him inside of you. He smirks at you as he pops his fingers into his mouth, sucking off all your juices before letting his robe fall and chucking it to the ground. He’s wearing his briefs, but you can see how hard his cock is under the thin cotton material. Before you’re able to pull his underwear down, he stops you and lets out a small chuckle. “I’m sorry, I don’t have a condom. We don’t have to do anything.”
You giggle and shake your head, “don’t need one; we’re in university, baby. What’s a little fun without risks?”
He lets you pull his underwear down, and his massive throbbing cock instantly slaps against his stomach as he laughs at your reaction. “Had to make sure you were stretched out enough.”
You bite your lips and stare at how big his cock actually is. It’s hard to imagine how you’ll fit that inside of you, but you’re determined to give it a try.
“You ready, pretty girl?” he asks as he taps the tip of cock against your clit, loving how you squirm under him.
“mmhmm, Issei.”
He lets go of his cock and leans up, and pulls you into a deep kiss, completely in awe of you.
“Tell me if you wanna stop, kay?”
Replying with a small hum, he gathers up the remaining slick that’s leaking out of your pussy and strokes his cock slowly, also letting his spit drip down to help lubricate himself. He lines himself up with your pretty pussy and starts to push the head in, studying your face to make sure you’re doing alright. When he sees you smiling back at him, despite the grip you have on his arms, he pushes another two inches inside of you.
“You’re doing so good for me, baby. We’re almost halfway,” he whispers into your ear as he kisses your neck softly, sucking on the spot by the base of your lobe. “Such a good girl for me,” he coaxes as his cock slides another inch into your sweet cunt.
Incredibly, he’s only halfway down because you’ve never felt this full before. Still, your fingers dig into his arms when you ask for more. “Just want all of you in me, please?”
Hearing you ask for more even though you already looked fucked out sparks something inside him. He lets out a low growl and quickly pushes the rest of his length inside you, mumbling sweet nothings against your skin. He moans out with you when he feels how warm and tight you are, your pussy stretching more than it ever has to accommodate his size.
“Feel s’good, Issei.”
With a breathy chuckle, he peppers kisses all over your neck, loving the sound of your soft giggles as he pulls back three-quarters of the way, slowly pushing his way back into you. The gasp you let out is different than before, much more surprised but sensual.
He continues this motion a few more times before he picks up the pace, his hips slamming against you while your tits bounce. Each thrust knocks the air out of your chest cause he’s brushing against your spot every time. Matsukawa leans down and presses his forehead against the crook of your neck, muttering how good you feel.
“F-faster...need you faster, is’o good, please.”
Obliging to your pleas, he starts to rut his hips into yours, the sound of his balls slapping against your skin with each movement. He looks up to see your dreamy eyes and smiles. He knows there’s not a thought behind those eyes right now as his cock slams against your walls with each thrust. He goes to kiss you again, silencing your cries as your nails drag down his arms, trying to ground yourself in the midst of all the pleasure.
“You’re s-tight baby I- fuuuuuck, I can barely move.”
You can’t help it. Your walls are naturally squeezing him because he’s fucking straight into your sweet spot with each snap of his hips. You look at him with hazy eyes, entirely in a trance as you moan out his name. He can tell you want to cum, so his hand reaches down to rub your clit as his cock continues to pound into you.
“C’mon baby, cum all over my cock. You can do it...ah shit, yea, just like that.”
He’s been trying so hard not to cum but watching your back arch into him as your nails drab down his back, his name falling out from your lips in a loud erotic moan, is making it really hard. He looks down in surprise when he sees a creamy white rim around his cock, proud of himself for making you cream.
“Good girl...that’s my fuckin girl.”
Satisfied he made you finish, his head falls back onto your shoulder, his hips just rutting into you as he chases his own orgasm. Not even a minute later, he’s calling out for you as he quickly pulls out, cumming all over your tits. His chest heaves along with yours, his hair sticking to his forehead slightly as he empties his load all over your chest.
Once you’ve both calmed down a little bit, he smiles down at you and goes to stroke your cheek. “Had you creaming on my cock, was it fun? Did you have a good time?”
“S’good...thank you, baby,” you say before pulling him down for a kiss.
He gets up and reaches for his robe, “you did so good, took me like a champ heh. I’ll be back with a rag to clean you up, okay? Don’t move.”
As he leaves your room, you stare up at the ceiling and let out a laugh. Not even twelve hours ago, you were cursing the fact that he was here with you, and now you have his cum all over your tiddies as he goes to get stuff to clean you up.
You watch as he comes back into your room, fully changed with a rag in his hand. He kneels beside you and pets your hair as he starts to wipe his mess.
“Why’re you changed?”
“Oh! We’re going to 7-11 once I get you cleaned up.”
“.....it’s like three-thirty in the morning.”
“I’ll get you taquitos and Arizona,” he says as he goes to wipe around your pussy, mindful not to put too much pressure cause you’re still sensitive.
“And skittles?”
He snorts and kisses your shaking thigh, “yea, I’ll get you skittles, brat.”
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© tetsunormous 2021
taglist: @plutowrites @armins-futon @arte-misa @strawbari21 @matsusimp @bokutomessy @mentaly-ill @arumiee @kvrooschibichan lmk if you want to be added to my tag list
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ilovemybettafish · 3 years
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16 Questions to Consider When Protesting Against Israel:
As demonstrations against Israel take place around the world, I am asking those in my Facebook world who might be attending one to please consider the following questions in advance:
1) When demonstrators chant “Free Palestine from the River to the Sea”, meaning from the Mediterranean to the Jordan, do you realize they are calling for the ethnic cleansing of 6.5 million Jews from their indigenous ancestral homeland? Is so, where do you suggest these Jews go, who will take them and how do you plan to guarantee their safety? My elderly in-laws were born and raised in Israel. What should they do? What will keep them from the fate of the Kurds?
2) If Jews are not indigenous to Israel, where are they indigenous to? From where did they come? And why does Israel host so many Jewish religious artifacts and archaeological sites featuring Hebrew inscriptions? Were those planted underground as some sort of grand ruse? Would you consider an Irish person choosing to reside in Ireland as a form of colonialism?
3) If Israel’s citizens are guilty of genocide, as the demonstrators regularly declare, why are they so bad at it? After all, the population growth in Gaza and the West Bank far outstrips that of Israel proper. And why is Israel giving advance warning to Gaza’s inhabitants so they can flee before Israel fires upon Hamas installations, such as the media tower today? 10) Is Israel that inept at genocide? And if not, how do you think it feels for a people who actually suffered genocide to have the accusation so lazily slapped upon them?
4) Have the protesters around you shown equal concern for the genocide of Uighurs in China or the Rohingya in Myanmar? Have they recently protested at either country’s embassy? 11) If not, why is the situation in Israel so unique for them? What makes the Jewish State so particularly villainous in their eyes?
5) When people such as Bernie Sanders say “Palestinian Lives Matter”, do you honestly believe that Israelis feel otherwise? I don’t know any Jews or Israelis who are not distraught over the death of civilians in Gaza, and wish desperately that a peaceful resolution could be found that would allow all of Israel’s inhabitants to live safely and securely in the land. Do you really conceive of Israel as an entire country of genocidal maniacs?
6) What will you say (not if but) when the protesters’ chants mutate from Anti-Zionism to Anti-Semitism with calls to harm Jews wherever they may be found? Late last week, one such demonstrator bloodied a Jewish man with a metal chair. Does this sit well with you? Does your protest include Anti-Semitic images of Jews as vermin or blood thirsty animals? Accusations of Jews controlling the world’s media and finance? Libels of Jews as demonic or parasitic? Do you realize this is why all synagogue preschools need to hire full time security guards?
7) If Israel is truly an apartheid state, how is there such diverse representation of various communities within private industry and government office? In America, can you openly advocate for the country’s destruction and yet serve in congress? You can in Israel! How did Israeli Arabs come to make up 9% of Israel’s Knesset members? And how did Arab Israeli George Karra get a seat on Israel’s Supreme Court? Why do the majority of Israeli Arabs regularly poll that they would rather remain citizens of Israel than one of her neighbouring states or even a newly formed Palestinian state?
8) Did you know that the majority of Israeli Jews are from the Middle East or North Africa? Or did you assume they all present as white? And if Palestine is truly “freed” from the Jews, will you tell the hundreds of thousands of Jews who fled to Israel when they were expelled from Arab countries to “go back to Europe”?
9) If you are upset about the wide discrepancy of civilian casualties between Israelis and Palestinians, would you feel better if more Israelis were killed? Should Israel be blamed for building bomb shelters and Iron Dome missile defense systems while Hamas shoots rockets from schools and hospitals? Would more dead Jews satisfy your rage?
10)If Hamas has so little money for infrastructure and services for its citizens, how do they afford 2,000+ rockets, tunnels, drones, etc? Where did those come from? Did they suddenly win the lottery?
11) Do you think that if Israel returned to its 1967 borders and offered a Palestinian capital in East Jerusalem, that all would be forgiven? If so, why was an offer of nearly this magnitude turned down without even a counteroffer? Why does Hamas’ charter distinctly call for the destruction of Israel and attacks upon Jews? And why did the Arab states seek to wipe Israel off the map both in 1948 and 1967 when not a single settlement existed?
12) Did you know that Gaza shares a border with Egypt, which could be opened at any time? Have you protested against Egypt for not doing so? Jordan occupied the West Bank between 1948 and 1967. Why was a Palestinian State not declared during this time? Why is Israel uniquely to blame for the Palestinians’ awful predicament?
13) Did you know that Israel allows for a free press while all pictures and stories out of Gaza must be approved by Hamas? Did you ever wonder why there aren’t more pictures of Hamas terrorists in action? And if an Israeli soldier shoots a Palestinian teenager who lunges at her with a knife, is she guilty of killing a child?
14) If Israel is a warmonger for attacking Hamas missile positions, what would be the more appropriate response as its citizens are fired upon? Sit tight and wait until the attacks end? Offer thoughts and prayers? What would the US do if Mexico launched 2,000 rockets from Tijuana into San Diego?
15) If your protest is co-organized by Jewish Voice for Peace, do you actually know any Jews who affiliate with this group? Do you realize that they serve as a cover for Anti-Zionist rhetoric and openly advocate for the destruction of the State of Israel? Do you also think that the Westboro Baptist Church speaks for all Christians? Because I would bet that the ratio is pretty similar.
16) And perhaps most importantly - where are you and your fellow protesters receiving your information? Do you think Twitter, TikTok and Instagram offer the depth of analysis that such a complex situation requires? Can the conflict really be summarized in a tidy meme? Have you spoken with anyone who has spent considerable time in Israel, the West Bank or Gaza? Does your favorite celebrity or influencer research Middle Eastern history in their free time? Would you take a Middle Eastern Studies class taught by Dua Lipa?
I fully understand your sense of empathy for the plight of civilians under fire and the awful images of maimed children and dead civilians. And I understand your desire to point towards a culprit and define a terrible situation in terms of good and evil. And I similarly understand the propensity to equate powerlessness with nobility and power with corruption. But I ask you to consider these questions and decide for yourself if these protests truly share your values.
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chilling-seavey · 3 years
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Seasons Change (d.s.) - ONE
↳  A/N This one already holds a special place in my heart and it has barely even begun! Might be a bit slower on updates because I want to make sure it’s perfect for us all. Thank you to @stuffofseaveyy for your unwavering help with plotting this storyline out, @randomlimelightxxx for your excitement and help, and of course, @jonahlovescoffee​ for being my hype girl and the best mayor’s wife anyone could ask for ;)
↳ Summary: Everyone knows everything about everyone in this small rural town in east Connecticut and the handsome single father who owns the farm down the main street seems to always be the talk of the town. Balancing the care of his acreage, raising his school-age son, and coaching the local boys’ hockey team keeps Daniel busy; but his mind never strays far from the expansive and vibrant flower gardens planted outside his farmhouse.
↳ Word Count: 2520
↳ Warnings: This story touches on topics such as loss of loved ones and grief. Nothing too detailed but read at your own discretion x
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If you weren’t looking, you would miss it. An hour-and-a-half drive east of Hartford, Connecticut rested a small town that barely occupied more than an intersection of space in time. On your way east towards state lines, a rectangular green sign half covered by an oak tree would welcome you to Lincoln – Population: 200. You’d leave the town before you even realized you were in it if you weren’t paying attention but maybe that’s how the locals liked it.
People moved to Lincoln to get away from the bustle of the city…it was full of those people who had ‘let’s ditch this town’ mindsets and set down roots in a section of the world where they wouldn’t be bothered. It was the type of town that lived in the lyrics of a country song: picture perfect homegrown peace where everyone knew everyone and everyone had a place. It was easy to know everyone in a town like Lincoln. Driving in from the city you would pass a white paneled church, a few small single storey houses with lengthy driveways, the red trimmed general store, a brick sided restaurant, a run down and rusted mechanic’s shop, and catch a glimpse of the small community center just past the park before being enveloped by the nothingness that middle-of-nowhere Connecticut was known for.
Not much happened in Lincoln – at least nothing that was worth noting. Sometimes a car would break down and a city dweller in a designer suit would find his way to the general store to ask for assistance or, more often, a coyote would be rumoured to be roaming at night but that was the extent of the excitement. The most exciting thing to do outside of day to day work was play hockey and it seemed to be the town’s pride and joy of a pastime. There was no such thing as ‘hockey season’ as hockey season was year round in the small town of Lincoln, Connecticut. The community center housed an ice rink that could be melted down to a basketball court but everyone stayed for the hockey. The Lincoln Lighting Junior and Senior leagues were usually the talk of the town. The school-aged boys (ages 7-13) played for the juniors and the later teens and most of the fathers played for the senior league. The captain of the senior league was the coach of the juniors and he owned one of the few farms a few paces north of the main intersection.
A father of one and the best hockey player Lincoln had ever seen, Daniel Seavey was more than one could expect from a small town man.
He wasn’t your everyday potato farmer with uneven tan lines or a body that housed more beer than muscle and, in fact, he was the talk and the eye candy of the town. At only twenty-nine, Daniel was the best of the best in Lincoln: best hockey player, best coach, best farmer, best guitarist, best father; and he had the sandy brown hair and sky blue eyes of a heartbreaker to top it all. At six feet tall, Daniel was slim and handsome, and yet had the muscles capable of running a farm and shooting slapshots like you wouldn’t believe. Daniel was quiet and polite and he innocently humoured the wives of the town as they flirted with him in front of their unimpressed husbands.
But no one could be mad at Daniel. Not when he was the first and only widow Lincoln had ever seen.
Marigold Seavey was twenty-six when she died in her bed at their farmhouse in the early hours of the morning. Her passing was the first major event to ever shake the town of Lincoln. Everyone knew everyone in this town and, that being said, everyone knew what a sunshiny soul Marigold was. Daniel, especially, seemed to have his light burnt out once she was buried behind the church at the corner of town. Some of the folks in town will tell you that the saddest sight they had ever seen was Daniel standing at the foot of his wife’s grave after the funeral with his six-year-old son holding his hand and the two of them crying silent tears into the fresh fall soil.
Despite Daniel’s quiet persona, he was strong and he knew he had to be for the sake of his young son. He couldn’t wallow in his grief for long since he had a son to raise and a farm to tend to and the generosity of the townsfolk certainly helped him to stay on his feet after his wife passed.
It had been a year-and-a-half since Marigold died. Daniel had just turned twenty-nine as March moulded into April and the winter chill was starting to fade into spring and the second birthday without her wasn’t any easier. The birthday cake baked by his neighbour wasn’t as delicious as Marigold’s classic lemon cake she would make him every year but he politely thanked the woman and dared not complain. Daniel would never complain over the niceties of the townsfolk.
That’s what came with living in such a small town; everyone had everyone’s back.
It was the first Sunday of April and the first truly nice spring day of the year. With a crisp breeze in the air, it was only just warm enough to discard the winter jackets and most of the town was gathered in the large backyard of the mayor’s house for the usual after-church brunch. On the colder Sundays, brunch was held in the main restaurant but everyone preferred to gather in the fresh air and over the crisp green grass of the mayor’s house as soon as the weather permitted.
The mayor’s house was the largest and had the most land outside of the farms that were just north of the main intersection in town. Jonah – known by the locals as such since he didn’t like the formality that came with the title of ‘Mayor Frantzich’ – and his wife Jocelyn kept a pretty house on the edge of the little town. They could be what you call the ideal small town family with two kids, a dog, and white picket fence – enough backyard space for it to be the perfect spot for weekly brunch.
The town children had space to play and stretch their legs after sitting for an hour in church and the yard was filled with the shouts from their games. The adults lingered around the yard in various little circles, nursing freshly squeezed orange juice in spring-themed clear plastic cups and talking amongst themselves.
Daniel did a lot of listening during Sunday brunches, standing amidst one of the groups of parents as they talked about school, clubs, and work. Marigold was always the chatty one of the two of them…without her, Daniel felt out of place.
“What about you, Daniel? Think the frost will be gone to break ground this week?”
Jack spoke first, a shorter man with unruly brown hair and enough tattoos to surprise anyone with the fact that he raised an apple orchard. He owned the farm beside Daniel’s and was one of his closest friends in the town.
Daniel thought for a moment and scuffed the toe of his dress shoe against the grass. The cold ground was still pretty solid and the chill in the air still had them all wearing blazers over their Sunday button-ups.
“Only if this cold front lets up.” Daniel answered. “I’m hoping to plough by next week at the latest.”
“Everything’s been going well with the farm and your boy?” Jonah asked, his hand tucked around his wife’s waist and he raised his opposite hand to his mouth to sip his juice.
Daniel shifted on his feet and gave a shrug, his eyes drifting past the group of parents to easily pick out his shaggy haired brunette son across the yard with the rest of the kids. At almost eight-years-old, Lennox was the light of Daniel’s life; his little hockey star, helping hand, and the one whom his late wife’s smile and spirit lived on in. It had been a hard year-and-a-half for the two Seavey boys but Daniel was relived that he could hear his son laugh again, his audible glee reaching to the far edges of the mayor’s property and to his father’s ears.  
“It’s been…fine.” Daniel sighed, his eyes lingering on his son as he answered Jonah’s question, “Lennox has been doing well…his grades are better this year which I’m relieved about. I just…I already sold the sheep and half the chickens and the second cow last spring to try and tame some of the workload but it’s still a lot.”
“Running a farm on your own isn’t easy.” Jack said, “I know how much work it takes for two owners let alone one.”
“We’re here to help with whatever you need.” Corbyn assured him. “I can give you deals on whatever you need from the shop as often as I can.”
Corbyn owned the general store in the center of town and was the bachelor of Lincoln. It wasn’t like there were any women to date in such a small place full of cookie cutter rural families but Corbyn was very happy as he was: running the store and being the eyes and ears of the town.
Daniel shut down his generous offer politely as he looked back to his friends, “No, no. I don’t want that…thank you though. I’m just worried the garden will suffer. With so much to do with ploughing and planting and coaching…I don’t know how much time I’ll have for the flowers.” Daniel let his gaze drift back to his son playing across the grass, “Lennox is too young to tend to them himself but he loves the gardens so much so I don’t want yet another thing to disappoint him.”
“Have you thought of hiring someone?” Jonah asked.
“Like a gardener?” Daniel hummed, “I dunno.”
Corbyn sipped his drink, “Is it in the budget?”
“I think so.” Daniel shrugged, swirling his orange juice in his hand. “Never thought about it. Mari always took care of the flowers so…”
“I have a family friend who’s pretty good with gardens…I’m sure she’d be more than happy to help out.” Jocelyn offered.
Daniel chuckled under his breath, “That’s…a nice offer but I’m not looking to put anyone out of their way. They’re just flowers after all.”
But everyone knew that they weren’t just flowers to Daniel. They were Marigold’s flowers.
Jack tisked at Daniel’s hesitation, “Well if it’s in your budget to hire a gardener and you know the gardens are important to Lennox and yourself, then why not give it a try? You don’t have anything to lose.”
Jonah only added onto the argument, “She’s been wanting to come visit Lincoln for a while now. Why don’t we invite her to town and she can stay with us and you can give her a look over…if you think you want to hire her then you can.”
Daniel thought about it for a moment, taking a sip of his juice as his eyes found his son again. It was habit. Lennox was already running for him at top speed across the grass and Daniel set his cup down on the table just in time to welcome his seven-year-old’s energetic jump at him. He scooped him up with one arm and a tired grunt as he hiked him up onto his waist and Lennox held onto him around his neck, giggling as the other kids ran over after him.
“Daddy’s safe. You can’t get me.” Lennox told them matter-of-factly.
Daniel smiled proudly and linked his hands under his son’s bum to hold him up securely. At almost eight, Lennox was a bit heavy to hold but after nine years of farm work and working out for hockey, it wasn’t much of an issue for Daniel to hold him. He’d never complain regardless.
The other kids found their parents, gladly taking sips of juice or pieces of cut up fruit after a tiring chase around the yard. Jonah and Jocelyn’s seven-year-old twins found their way between them and helped themselves to the few snacks on the table. They were the closest to Lennox’s age – although a few months younger – and the boy of the set of fraternal twins was on the junior hockey team with him.
With the parents busy for a moment with their children – Jack was helping to fasten his daughter’s curly hair back in her headband – Daniel pondered the previous offer. His son rested his head against his with his small arms slung around his neck and Daniel could feel each of his gentle breaths rising and falling his chest. Everything Daniel did was for Lennox. He bit his lip.
“No rush.” Jocelyn said to him, reassuring their offer as if she could see his hesitation, “Just let us know.”
“Thank you.” Daniel said honestly.
“The Herron’s are coming over.” Corbyn whispered to the group and right away they shifted awkwardly as the family approached. Daniel let out an anticipatory sigh.
If you ever thought of jealousy, you would think of Zach Herron; father of two boys who weren’t very good at hockey and husband to a wife whose eyes liked to linger on Daniel’s biceps a little too much. Zach envied a lot of Daniel…maybe even envied him that his wife was dead. He would never admit that out loud though.
“Seavey.” Zach greeted as his family approached the group with his petite platinum blonde wife on his arm. He glanced around to the others, “And friends.”
There was a dull chorus of replies.
Zach continued, “I’m still willing to buy your horses off you. You know I have a generous price to offer.” 
Daniel chuckled lightly, “Yes, I know. But the horses are not for sale and they never will be.”
“Daniel would sell his house before he sells those horses.” Jack said. The group laughed lightly at the truth behind that. 
Lennox wiggled from Daniel’s arms and he set him down to join up with the two Herron boys who had just come over. The children gathered together at the other side of the table and chatted excitedly. Daniel picked up his orange juice.
“Daniel,” Zach’s wife set a hand on his bicep, her face filled with nothing but dramatic concern, “how are you holding up?”
“I’m doing fine, Katie, thank you.” Daniel replied politely.
She sighed, “It would just be a terrible shame to see your beautiful gardens go to waste; I overheard you talking about it from over there. Please let me know if I can help in any way.”
Zach’s annoyed scoff had Jack smirking into his orange juice. Corbyn and Jonah exchanged amused glances between themselves. Daniel offered Zach’s wife a small polite smile.
“That’s very nice of you to offer, but Jonah and Jocelyn already offered a family friend who’s in the business.” Daniel looked over at the couple again, with slight thankfulness in his eyes, “And I think I will gladly take them up on that recommendation.”
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xmyshya · 3 years
Text
Bumpy road
summary: What if two of your favourite boys were pining after you? genre: angst, fluff, crack warnings: stupidity special thanks: the whole HQ Headquarters DS, for giving me ideas, for hyping up, for everything, I love you all. a/n: Colour coded! Red for Kuroo, Yellow for Atsumu, black for neutral/both! There's an Easter Egg! wc: 3.9k words
[April]
“Please take a seat in the last row”, your eyes followed an extended arm of your new homeroom teacher until they landed on a boy with the messiest bedhead you’d ever seen. He didn’t seem to pay much attention to you though, instead resting his eyes on a faraway point on the other side of the window. Until he heard the noise you made while shuffling your chair, that is. “Hiiiiii, I’m L/N Y/N, nice to meet you neighbour!”, a wide smile formed on your face. “Kuroo Tetsurou, nice to meet you too”.
One week later, you were standing on the gym's threshold, filling your lungs with a deep breath before taking the first step in as a new manager. Volleyball had never been a sport close to your heart, but you had had some experience with it, as well as basic knowledge, so you were up for a challenge. All the more reason to after being asked by an unexpectedly fun friend. And being able to spend more time with said friend. But more time spent on talking came with another consequence. You started hearing rumours and whispers. Things like wow, she’s really talking to him or oh, another victim to his charm reached your ears from everywhere. “Kuroo, am I not supposed to talk to you or something?”, slipped your lips one day. You might as well continue, since he already heard you and was now looking at you with a confusion clear in his eyes. “I just heard people being… surprised about this”. “Oh, apparently I’m either intimidating or hot enough to be a fuckboy”, you choked on your own saliva. “You’re what?” “Intimidating or hot, or both”, did he really say that with a straight face, not once but twice? You just burst out laughing, eyeing him up and down. “Sorry, where?”, laughter bending your body in half, you bumped your head against the desk. “Ouch”
[July]
School premises were swarmed with sweaty boys. Some of them were familiar, like Bokuto or Akaashi, who had been friends with Kuroo for quite a long time. You recognised Karasuno, also known as Country Bumpkins, due to a practice match 2 months prior. The rest? Well, you only knew they were parts of the Fukurodani group. There was a mock game going on, and you, being a diligent manager, observed every move of your teammates to give them performance feedback. Further into the game though, your eyes shifted more and more onto your best friend’s lifting shirt, every time he went for a block. Or spiked. Or served. And wow, his thigh muscles were really… “Okay people, time for a break!”, a shout somewhere near you brought you back to reality. You stood up and made your way to the door, to catch some fresh air, while you bumped into quite a firm body. Looking up revealed it was Kuroo. His smirk made you wonder if he noticed your stares. His wink convinced you he, in fact, did. “Y/N, your name should be Neon, cause daaaaaamn you’re a perfect 10” “So you must be Helium, cause I sure as hell want you on top of me on a table”, few people whistled. Oh shit. His reaction gave you an extra boost of confidence, because now it was painfully obvious that all the rumours about the man in front of you were pretty much it, rumours, since his ears could as well be beacons. You winked at him on your way back to the door, and he still stood there dumbfounded when you looked back after reaching it.
[October]
Something had changed. You couldn’t quite put a finger on what exactly, but it was different. Like a tiny heat wave whenever your hands brushed, and they brushed more often. Like an extra beat of your heart whenever you felt his touch on the small of your back. Like your eyes lingering on for a second longer, before dropping to each other’s lips. Like a blush tinting his ears when you smile at him. Or like the way his heart clenched, when your thick tears threatened to burn their way through his chest, because the world had been unfair to you once too many, while the only thing he could do was to hold you so tight and kiss the top of your head so gently.
[November]
Having to stay late at school really was a blessing, when it was just the two of you in an empty train compartment on your way home. Otherwise, you surely would be scolded or at least stared at, because the decibels of your laughters while fooling around were beyond socially acceptable limits. He was now chasing you, fingers threatening to tickle you once you’re caught… You started to turn just in time for your back to hit the wall, and you definitely didn’t expect him to be so close, with the way he hovered over you and his hand making a loud thud. Or maybe it was your heart. “Oh sorry, the train bumped”, there was something in his eyes that compelled you to look into them, even when he leaned on his forearm above your head. He was so close, you could almost feel his breath on your skin. “Are you sure it’s not you falling for me?”, a chuckle in your throat died instantly as you saw his eyes open wide in fear for a fraction of a second, before his usual cocky smirk curled his lips again. He booped your nose before leaning against the wall next to you. The rest of the way home was silent.
[January]
It was time for you to run to your own team’s match. There was no way to miss a game for a manager, even if it was just your presence serving as a support on court. Your eyes slipped down to your watch only for a moment, but it was enough for a disaster to occur. You felt your body clash with another. “I’m so-” “Watch where yer running, ya fucking idiot”, you really wanted to apologise, you really did. But obviously not anymore, not when the other person was shouting at you like that. “Excuse me?! And where the fuck did your eyes go, huh? And don’t you dare speak to me like that”, your finger digging relentlessly into this stranger’s chest, despite his posture being so much bigger than yours, rage boiling in your veins blocking successfully any feeling of intimidation. “Do ya have any idea who ya talkin’ to? Miya Atsumu of Inarizaki, ya pig”, he straightened up and lifted his chin, looking down at you with a half smirk. You, however, only raised a brow. “Ooohhhhh…”, you squint your eyes for a moment, tapping a finger on your slightly pouty lips. “Never heard of ya”, you gave him a wide smile as you continued your rushed steps towards another gym. “W-wait a sec!”, shit, you really didn’t have time for this, “I uhh, sorry? I thought ya were one of dem stalking fangals and uhh...”, it was clear he wasn’t used to apologising. “The way ya talked back at me was so freaking cool! Can I have yer number?” You were shocked that he dared asking you that after the insults he spouted. Even more so, when you found yourself tapping your digits into his phone.
Nekoma won the match. Not that it was surprising, you always believed in the boys, and you had believed in their plan. But now that the game was over, you were heading to have a sneak peek at your Crow friends. You didn’t expect the situation to be so dire. From the scoreboard, your eyes moved to their opponents and… oh shit. Preparing to serve was HIM, none other than self-proclaimed “THE” Miya Atsumu. He noticed you too, surely, because he was grinning your way and oh my god was it a wink? Because it definitely looked like a wink. The whole match was a pain to watch. It had you hyped, it had you devastated, it had you crying and laughing uncontrollably. But when Oranges finally won, indescribable joy overwhelmed you, while you screamed and jumped around. Sudden hand on the small of your back startled you, emotion quickly replaced with surprise and confusion when you saw Kuroo attached to it. He hadn’t touched you in 2 months. “C’mon, time for us to go”, he pushed you gently towards the door while staring down the blonde setter behind your back. His gaze said he was taking up the challenge.
In the evening, the whole team was gathered in front of the tv to watch repetitions, over and over again, and figure out a strategy. Honestly your focus only could last that long, mind already looking for distractions, when you heard a ding from your phone. [unknown]: Ya know, could’ve been less happy about our loss. ‘M heartbroken now. [Y/N]: That’s what you get for playing against my friends ;) who’s this, btw? [Miya]: Whaddya mean ‘who’?! It’s Miya Atsumu here! [Y/N]: Aaahhhhh… Never heard of him :D [Miya]: We gotta change it then “Maaaaan, I wish we could play against Miyas”, Yamamoto’s voice dragged you back into the room. “Yeah, me too”, Kuroo hissed through clenched teeth.
[February]
Recent weeks were crazy. Preparation for college entrance exams was consuming most of your time, along with your sanity. If only Kuroo was with you, he would surely tell you to take a short break, instead, your mind was spiraling into educational anxiety. Am I doing enough? What if I fail? What if I forget something? What if… the soft sound of a notification brought you down to Earth. Miya Atsumu sent you a friend request. Ah, right. You were overworking yourself so much lately, that you almost stopped replying to his texts, still you were sure to receive at least one every 2-3 days. Request accepted. Just when you were about to re-focus on the textbook in front of you, another notification came. Miya Atsumu liked your photo. Amused, you click on it only to discover the picture was from… 4 years ago. Reaction disappeared, however, almost as quickly as it appeared. On the other side of the line Atsumu’s hands were shaking and sweating, his face red, as his brain was sent into an overdrive. Oh no, oh no, ohnonono, what have I done, has she noticed, do I look desperate, what do I do now, whatdoIdo. But you never said anything about it.
[Miya]: Ya need ta relax once in a while, ya know? [Miya]: Stress ain’t bringing in results [Y/N]: Wow, so you can say something wise :0 [Miya]: HA. HA. HA. [Miya]: Now please wouldya get me? I dunno Tokyo too much. 10 minutes later you were scanning the crowd on the train station in search of a familiar blonde. It wasn’t too hard to find him, but unexpectedly… he had company. Of 2 other guys, including one looking exactly like him, except for a different hair colour. They were introduced to you as ‘Samu (apparently Atsumu was too nervous to go alone) and Suna (he would never miss a spectacle like this). “So where do you need to get to?”, Suna looked at his friend with amusement, and you could swear you heard his twin whisper “she doesn’t know?”. Suddenly you had a phone screen right in front of your eyes, pictures of your favourite cafe on display. How did he.... “I wanna take a certain gal here”, Atsumu tapped on the screen, his eyes focused intensely on yours. As soon as you shifted your gaze from his mobile to his face though, he looked away. “Let’s go then, I guess”
Having your favourite hot chocolate in your hands would have been relaxing, if not for the deafening silence and weird smirks between two extras. “Soooooo, care to explain what you’re doing here?” “Sightseeing?”, blonde sitting opposite of you looks quite adorable with the pink tint, hand on the nape of his neck. Wait, adorable? “Yeah, y/n here being the sight, OUCH”, Suna jumped in his seat, definitely kicked by Atsumu. Maybe he was right, maybe it wouldn’t hurt to have a breather from books and notes. On the other side of the window, Kuroo was clenching his fists, as he watched you laugh, not really sure of the reason behind his anger.
[April]
Being late on the very first day is a bad omen, you cursed as you ran through the campus. It was NOT your fault that it was so needlessly big. It also wasn’t your fault that you spent way too much time searching for motivation to attend this class, which was clearly added to the program to harass students. It was bound to be the most boring subject, you just felt it in your bones. You opened the door to the lecture hall as quietly as you could, and then tiptoed to the nearest free seat, eyes trained on the lecturer (you thanked gods she was turned back to the room). Luck was on your side, she hasn’t noticed. “Whatcha doin’ here, babe?”, a sudden whisper and lips barely brushing your ears made you jump in your chair. You almost screamed, but the man’s reflexes were almost inhuman, as he covered your mouth with his hand. Truthfully speaking, it might have been better to prevent your knee from bumping against the desk, because now you had all the unwanted attention. And a hurting knee. “K-Kuroo?!”, you whisper-shout back at him. “I knew we enrolled in the same university, but same class?” “I think this might be the only one, since it’s mandatory for everyone” You thought this course might actually be your favourite.
Obviously he noticed it. It was impossible not to, since the pisshead was a new follower on almost ALL of your social media. Not just a follower, no. He was commenting on nearly each photo, and reacting to every. Single. One. At first Kuroo was just mildly annoyed. Then angry. And then he could feel his blood boil whenever he saw his name under your post. He wasn’t going to tell you though how he checked every hour or so if you had replied. That day, when you both sat in your room, working on some early assignment (two heads are better than one), your phone was blowing up. Tetsurou knew who it was, he saw the bubbles popping up on your screen. You didn’t pay attention to them, much to his relief. On the other hand, Atsumu was going crazy. “Samuuuuuu, she ain’t replying!” “Samuuuuuu, ya think she’s on a date?” “Samuuuuuu, did I annoy her too much?” “Samuuuu….” “Shut up, Tsumu” “Y/N? Smile for the photo”, he laughed when your head snapped towards his raised hand, and your eyes opened wide. Kuroo pushed the shutter button exactly when you smacked his arm. “What the hell’s wrong with you?!”, notes and the search engine slowly reclaimed your main focus, partly because you wanted to hide a blush blooming on your cheeks. “Just wanted to commemorate our first study session in our university life!”, he mused as he entered First assignment with the best girl <3 - @y/n in caption and pressed <upload>. Let’s see if you react to this one, asshole. He didn’t.
[May]
[Y/N]: Are you okay? You’ve been awfully silent lately. [Miya]: ‘M ok! Didn’t want to bother ya. [Y/N]: Huh? [Y/N]: Why the sudden change? [Miya]: Idk, maybe I shouldn’t text “best girl <3” [Y/N]: Atsumu… You’re an idiot [Miya]: Am not! He was. He realised this few days later, right before hopping on a train to Tokyo. Or rather… his brother made him realise this. “Huuuuuuuh?! Whaddya mean I like her?! I mean, I do, she’s cool, but whaaaat?!” “Tsumu… Yer about’a get on a train ta see her!” “So?” “Yer an idiot” “Hey! That’s what she said too!” Looking back at it, that might have been true. Maybe. After all, he was on his way to a city 500 km away, just to see… a friend. Would he do that for just a friend?
He found you outside, and he swore it was the prettiest scene he had ever seen. Gentle breeze blew your hair, as you basked in the sunshine. With your floral dress you reminded him of a flower praising the sun. In that very moment he regretted he hadn’t bought you anything, not even some flowers. Not that they would compare to you. He watched you turn to him in slow motion, as if he was in a movie, and you were about to jump into his arms. You just smiled instead, but its brightness could rival the orb up in the sky. At that moment, he knew he was gone.
“So ya say… there’s anime about volleyball?” “Yes! And it’s so good! Seems pretty accurate too!” “Ya hafta show me! That’s so cool!”, he reminded you of a kid, with his eyes shining like glitter, and a smile covering at least half of his face.
He had exactly the same expression, when he suddenly stopped walking and you bumped into him, ice cream spreading nicely on your nose as he was taking a selfie of both of you. And then again at the train station, when he was worried his arms might have lingered a tad too long around your waist, but you didn’t pull back. Later, a screech could be heard in your room as that photo appeared on your timeline. With your name attached to it. In yer face, rooster bastard, Atsumu thought as he had clicked the <upload> button. Kuroo only scoffed, original much. But if that’s how he wants to play…
[July]
Lunch break was your favourite part of the day not just because it was, well, a break, and not only because of lunch. It was the time spent on talking, goofing around and stealing each other’s food, together with Tetsurou. That day, however, exhaustion took over and you couldn’t do much more than just lay your head on the cantine table, your hair a messy veil. “I can’t wait for summer break to come, I want it to come already! My brain is so tired” “Hang in there! It’s just 2 weeks of exams, and then we’re free!” “Why are you doing this to me, Kuroooooo” “I’ve always been a nice person” His hand was soft as he gently uncovered your face, strand by strand. “Wanna go somewhere and relax a little before all hell breaks loose?” Soft hum was the only thing leaving your lips as you melted into his touch.
The sun was merciless, as if its sole purpose was to burn the Earth to ashes. The fact that you were ankles deep in a stream and shielded by dense leaves didn’t help at all. Undeniably though it was soothing for the soul. “Okay, let’s move on”, Kuroo said, despite wanting to watch you forever. There was something about this relaxed expression that strung the cords of his heart. Yes, you looked happy. It took you too short a while to have shoes on and be ready to walk again. Summer breeze felt wonderful as you climbed up a rocky hill, scorching heat finally letting up a little. Temptation to just stand there with eyes closed and arms open wide almost too strong. Still, you let yourself submerge in it enough, not to notice a slippery boulder. You were preparing yourself for the impact, but instead, you felt a pull on your wrist and then a firm chest in front and a strong arm around your waist. “Please be more careful”, a whisper rather felt than heard, barely louder than a breath. This and his scent intoxicated you. “Let’s go?”
The view was magnificent. Just behind the hill, there was a lake, as clear as glass. Its naturally azure colour was tinted with golden afternoon light and rosy flowers covering the trees growing around the coastline. Some of the petals were floating on the surface, between the sun kissed shimmers. It was truly breathtaking, both of you wished you could stay in that moment. Neither of you noticed, none of you had let go of each other’s hand.
[Y/N]: Random thought. [Y/N]: What if I were a werewolf? [Miya]: … [Miya]: Are ya? oO [Y/N]: Hmm? Would it be a problem if I was? [Miya]: I… ‘m allergic to dogs… :( [Miya]: I swear I’ll get meds! [Y/N]: Wow, such a sacrifice! You would do that for me? [Miya]: I would even hunt squirrels for ya! [Y/N]: Squirrels? [Miya]: Or whatever werewolves eat [Y/N]: Wow, I’m speechless “Samuuuuuuuuu, she sent me a heart! A HEART!”, the fluttering in his chest was almost unbearable. “Shut yet mouth, ya simp! It’s 1 am!” He wasn’t a simp, of course not. Sure, he did watch whatever you recommended to him, and listened to whatever song you said you loved. He did research on things you had said were interesting, and rushed to his phone whenever it announced a new message. But being a simp? Him? Never.
[August]
If this wasn’t heaven, you didn’t know what would be. Warm sand under your back, cool water coming in waves to wash the heat off of your skin, and the sun watching you from the clearest sky. You heard a click somewhere behind your head, and opened your eyes to see your relative, showing proudly their creation. “You just looked so blissful, Y/N. Couldn’t help it”. You couldn’t blame them. You didn’t remember feeling this much at peace either. “Send it to me, please!”
Tucked gently in your covers, you were swiping through your gallery, admiring the pictures you and your relative had taken. After another round you finally decided which ones you wanted to share with the world, a mixture of landscapes, sunsets and portraits. As soon as you were informed about the post being up, you silenced your phone and closed your eyes ready to sleep… This might have been one of the best decisions you had made recently. You had never seen that many alerts on any of your content. Majority of these were from Atsumu, who obviously made sure none of your uploadings went unnoticed, which spread a warmth in your chest. What really caught your attention though, was how many times one particular picture was mentioned. Yes, the one on the beach. It was almost scary. {Kuroo}: Babe, you shouldn’t expose yourself like that, there are thirsty bois around. {Atsumu}: Who tf are ya callin’ thirsty?! {Kuroo}: Never said I was talking about you, but I guess I found one {Atsumu}: Listen here ya smug ass’ole, ya think yer funny? Suna only sent a gif of popcorn eating {Osamu}: Okay Y/N, as much as I find this exhilarating…just choose already, spare those two poor souls! Suna sent another gif, this time a very disappointed one.
Choose? Wtf does that mean? And then it hit you. Kuroo suddenly getting touchy again after distancing himself from you. His sudden clinginess whenever Atsumu interacted, phone in plain sight. Miya’s constant attention. His willingness to travel and never asking for anything in return. His eagerness to learn about anything you liked. Had you really been so oblivious for this whole time? Well, it could wait until you were back home.
Memories flooded your mind as you were typing the message, your heartbeat rate over the roof, your hands shaky, but you knew you needed to do this. For your sake. For his sake. One last glance over the text “I think it’s time for us to talk…” before you press <send>
Epilogue 1 - Kuroo Epilogue 2 - Tsumu Epilogue 3 - both
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kopikokun · 4 years
Text
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Spilled Drinks & Study Sessions༄ mark l.
↳ When you’re forced into a study session with your next door neighbour Mark, who also happens to be your academic rival in school, things go south very quickly.
pairing; mark lee x reader
genre; fluff, slight angst, enemies to lovers (more like friends, but anyway)
wordcount; 2503 words
author’s note; how the hell do you guys write e2l and make the transition so smooth? bro i could never. also, the header pic is different than what i normally do :/ it’s kinda eh, but i liked the picture so i had to do something with all that empty space
Request 26: Mark + “Oh, are you ticklish?” (73) + “Why are you naked?” (109)
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— 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧. | 𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬.
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The animosity between you and Mark is intense and painstakingly obvious to everyone around you. Well, everyone besides your parents, you suppose. 
   “Can you stop being so loud? You’re distracting me,” you grumble, angrily flipping through your homework. 
   “Well, I’m sorry for breathing.” Mark rolls his eyes at you. “Would you rather I stop entirely instead and drop dead right here, right now?”
   “At least it would be quieter if you did.” You press your pen down harder, taking your rage out on your poor, innocent worksheet. If you’re going to blame anyone for the excruciating torture your homework is enduring, you’d blame Mark. Even if it technically isn’t his fault, you’d still pin the blame on him. 
   “What’re you gonna do with my body? You wouldn’t be able to lift me, I mean, you couldn’t even open that can of Coke.”
   Your cheeks grow warm, mentally replaying the image of a grinning Mark as he effortlessly opened your can of Coke, the soft hiss of its fizz taunting you. Mark had puffed up his chest triumphantly like he was some kind of hero. For crying out loud, he had only opened a can of Coke, not saved his country. It still bruised your pride though, having to ask for help from Mark, your sworn rival since middle school. Childish, you know, but you’re certain that Mark thinks of you as such too. 
   “Whatever,” you fumble for a name to call him, “nerd.” Mark snickers at you. “My fingers were just slippery.” He arches a brow, challenging you, and you scowl. “I wouldn’t be able to lift you because you’re heavy, fatass. Not because I’m weak.” You twirl a lock of your hair around your finger. “And look who’s talking, Mr. I-Can’t-Open-Doors.”
      Mark flushes crimson as he silently fumes. “That was because I was pushing the pull door!”
   “That’s even worse, Mark,” you tease, unable to suppress a smile. “Dumbass,” you mumble below your breath, enjoying the way Mark seethes.
   “You’re calling me a dumbass? If I remember correctly, I was the one who placed above you last term.” Mark haughtily flips a page in his workbook. “Which I think is why your parents want me to tutor you.”
   You throw a measly eraser shaving at Mark in rebuttal. “You know that’s not why I’m here!” Another shaving is thrown at Mark’s head, yet he doesn’t even look up at you. “In fact, your parents probably wanted me here so I could babysit you!”
   Neither you or Mark are right. Your parents just chucked you together because they thought that after all those years of living beside one another and having weekly dinners together, you two would be absolutely wonderful buddies, and you can’t fault them for assuming such a thing.
   Logically speaking, you and Mark are supposed to be the bestest of friends. As much as you dislike the word, it seems as if fate has decided that you two are meant for each other. Gross. 
   In almost every situation possible, you and dear Markie boy over here have been unwillingly strung together—from group projects, to assigned seats, you two just can’t get a break from one another.
   Your parents had innocently thought that having a little study session while they went out for a double date with Mark’s parents would be beneficial for you two. Perhaps even fun. Fun, your ass. 
   All those years spent with Mark hasn’t made you friends, no, it’s made you rivals.
   Yeah, so not sworn enemies, but what’s life without a little exaggeration?
   You’ve always been a bright kid, some would even go as far to say that you’re ‘gifted’, but you think ‘persevering’ is a better word to describe it. You weren’t just born naturally intelligent or outstandingly athletic, no, you’ve had to work hard, insanely hard, for that. It hadn’t been handed to you all nicely wrapped with a little bow to match, just for you to tear it open and take. You’ve had to tolerate and undergo several sleepless nights, and many agonising hours of training. 
   Up until middle school you were top of your class in all aspects. You were idolised (well, as idolised as you could be for a middle schooler anyway), loved and acknowledged. It had been blissful. 
   That was until, little Mark with that stupidly cute gleam in his eyes came along, skipping over to you in those worn-out track pants and smiling toothily as he introduced himself as your brand new next door neighbour.
   You have to admit, initially, you and him were close friends. You’d walk home together, sneak out to go to the convenience store together, share snacks together, the list goes on. You’d even given Mark your very first kiss, right on the cusp on your twelfth birthday. He didn’t know that it was your first kiss though, and he’ll never know. You’d rather be shot at point blank range than give up such private intel. 
   But when one day, in seventh grade, when Mark had begun closing in on you in rankings, outrunning you at the park and gradually being everyone’s new favourite, you found yourself isolated. Even one of your friends, a girl with straight long hair that fell past her waist, started hanging out with Mark more than with you.
   And when you invited her to your thirteenth birthday, the first thing she’d asked was, “Is Mark going to be there?”
   And at that same party, you saw her, kissing the boy you had been crushing on for the past year. And it looked like Mark really enjoyed kissing her too. More than he did with you.
   From that point on, you began to distance yourself from Mark. It was gradual, slow, but you knew Mark could tell. When he finally surpassed you academically too, you started harbouring a resentment towards him, and the rivalry between you two started.
   You were somewhat hoping he’d confront you, at least wonder why your attitude towards him had seemed to change in the blink of an eye, but he hadn’t. And that stung.
   Obviously rumours had circulated in middle school about what was going on between you two. Kids, no, people love to talk. And talk they did. 
   It had been widely known that you and Mark used to be inseparable at one point in time, and it was jarring seeing how differently you two were acting around each other.
   Mark and that friend of yours had broken up some time after that, and evidently she was pissed. It seemed as if she had begun spreading gossip about you, claiming that you had been some sort of psycho ex-girlfriend and that you had threatened Mark to break up with her, essentially, she was villainising you.
   When high school finally rolled around, Mark’s ex had moved by then—you weren’t sure where and you didn’t care to know. The rumours eventually died down with her absence, and you thought that maybe, just maybe, you and Mark could finally make amends, bury the hatchet, as one would say. But that never happened.
   Looking back, you’re a bit amused at what an eventful and dramatic childhood you had. All those scandals at just thirteen? What a boss bitch. Present you would not be able to stomach that.
   You take a peek at Mark. He’s attractive. Of course he is. He had been a cute kid, no doubt, but as he’s aged, he’s matured into his good looking features. He’s not the rugged and manly kind of good looking, he’s got more of a sweet boyish look to him, and in your opinion, it adds to his charm. 
   “What are you staring at?” 
   Shit, you’ve been caught. No, caught? It’s not like you were doing something you shouldn’t have. “Nothing.” You reach forward to take a sip from the infamous Coke can. It’s lukewarm, but you gulp it down regardless, trying to appear unfazed.
   “Were you checking me out?”
   Disaster strikes just as those words leave Mark’s lips. The putrid sensation of warm coke leaves your mouth entirely, not because you’ve begrudgingly swallowed it all, but because you’ve spit it out from the sheer shock of Mark’s question. 
   “Hey! What the fuck?” Mark stands from his chair across from you and its legs scrape against the floor with a sound that makes your skin crawl. 
   You cough and sputter, gasping for air. Once you’ve gotten past that tight feeling in your throat, you wipe the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand. A few droplets of the sugary drink dribble onto your shirt. But fortunately, well for you at least, you’re not as drenched in spit-laced Coke as Mark is. 
   “Shit!” You lift your gaze to look at Mark, who’s surprised, to say the least. 
   Mark takes a breath to say something, the words on the tip of his tongue, but he clamps his mouth shut, opting to groan in annoyance instead. “Jesus, why’d you even do that?”
   Your face burns in embarrassment. No way you’re going to admit to him that you were checking him out. Sort of. “I don’t know, it just went down the wrong channel, I guess.”
   Mark’s lips form a thin line of dissatisfaction. “Yeah, okay, whatever.” He cringes as his shirt sticks to him. “ I’m gonna go change.”
   He runs a hand through his hair, face upturned in frustration as he stomps up the stairs, his footsteps echoing throughout the living room. Your eyes follow his figure until he turns a left into his room. 
   You sigh. If you were home alone, you would have screamed in humiliation. The can of Coke on the table mocks you. You resist the urge to pick it up and hurl it into Mark’s neighbour’s backyard—well, your backyard. 
   A sliver of positivity presents itself in the form of you and Mark’s mostly unscathed worksheets. There are a few stray droplets here and there, but it’s barely noticeable. It would’ve been much worse for both Mark and you if you had drenched those as well. In fact, your homework wouldn’t be drenched in just saliva and Coke, but also in tears at that point. 
   You curse the can in your grasp, its aluminium smooth against your skin, before you dump it in the bin. Good riddance, bitch. 
   I should apologise. You can suck up your pride for that. No, this isn’t even about petty things like pride anymore. That shouldn’t matter. I should apologise, you think to yourself firmly.
   Alright. Apologising. Sorry. You inhale deeply, gathering your senses and calming your jittery nerves. Why are you even nervous? It’s not like you’re professing your undying love to him. Chill the fuck out.
   As you’re standing before Mark’s single, wooden door (which looks extremely daunting for some reason), it doesn’t dawn on you that perhaps you should knock first.
   If it had, then perhaps you wouldn’t be staring at a shirtless Mark, your hand still wrapped around his doorknob and your mouth hung agape.
   “Oh my God, Mark!” You cover your eyes, the door shutting behind you with a creak. You’re a bit ashamed at how fast your cheeks are overtaken by a hot, prickling feeling. “Why are you naked?”
   Mark, though just as startled as you are, has the common sense to reach blindly for the stained shirt he just took off, holding it in front of him. “What do you mean why am I naked? Why are you here?”
   You take a few steps back, your back pressed up against the door. “I- I came up here to say I’m sorry. You know, for uh, just now?”
   Your hands slowly fall to your sides as you burn holes into Mark’s carpeted floor with your eyes instead. 
   “Oh, uh, o-okay. Apology accepted, I guess.” Mark’s voice cracks and he clears his throat. “Let me just uhm—”
   You can hear his drawer sliding open and the faint rustle of fabric. All the while you keep your gaze glued to the floor, feeling your cheeks grow warmer by the second. Oh my God, you’re acting like a little girl who’s just held a boy’s hand for the first time.
   This isn’t the first time you’ve seen a guy naked—for fuck’s sake, Mark’s not even naked. He’s all covered up where he should be. Why is the sight of just his bare body from the waist up making your mind go blank and your palms grow sweaty? It’s not like you have feelings for him anymore. No, you don't.
   “You can uh, you can look up now.”
   You steel yourself, looking up to face Mark. Why did you have to steel yourself? It’s not like he’d have taken even more clothes off once you looked up again. You feel like slamming your head into the wall.
   You fiddle with your fingers, searching for something to say to try and ease the tension. “Uh, sorry. For spilling that Coke all over you, I mean.” You scratch the nape of your neck. “And for you know, walking in on you changing.”
   “Why didn’t you leave?”
   Your shoulders slump. “Huh?”
   Mark chuckles confidently, like he’s unabashed. His cheeks are ablaze with colour, though. “I mean, why didn’t you just back out of the room when you walked in on me changing? Why’d you just stand there?”
   You blink at him. Why didn’t you just leave? “I- I froze up, okay? Don’t bully me!” Your ears are burning.
   “Yeah, okay, okay.” Mark raises his hands by his sides, that entertained smile never leaving his lips. “Let’s go back down, okay? I still need to finish my work.”
   You chew on your inner cheek. “Yeah, whatever,” you try to find a creative name to call him.
   “Yeah, I know. Nerd.” Mark raises his brows at you, still with that amused grin. You wish you could smack it right off his stupidly handsome face.
   You huff, turning on your heel and practically booking it to the stairs. Mark catches up to you in no time with long, languid strides. Stupid long ass legs.
   “Hey, wait up, loser,” he says, a hint of delight in his voice. He pokes your side and you jump, shoving his hand away and mustering a weak glare at him. “Oh, are you ticklish?”
   You gnaw on your bottom lip. “No, I’m not, fatass!” Despite your harsh tone, your cheeks deceive you, blossoming with warmth yet again.
   Mark smiles genuinely this time, although there’s no sarcastic edge to it whatsoever. “You getting shy?”
   “No, I’m not.”
   “Hey, don’t be upset!” The next thing Mark says is nearly incomprehensible, but you hear it. Oh, you definitely do.
   “You look cute.”
   Your head swivels to look back at Mark, and you realise that he hadn’t meant for you to hear that.
   The faintest of smiles teases your lips, before you turn away, denying him the satisfaction of seeing you break out into a grin. “Yeah, whatever, Mark.”
   Now, it’s Mark’s turn to be enveloped in heat as a red tint spreads across his cheeks.
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isitgintimeyet · 4 years
Text
Just a Friend
Sorry you’ve had to wait a few more days. i had a much needed few days holiday in Devon. And I realised it was the first time since February that I’d travelled more than 20 miles from home!
Anyway, we’re on to chapter 7. Thanks for reading and hope you enjoy
Thanks to @wickedgoodbooks for the beta.
Previous
AO3
Chapter 7: From Feedback to The Force
I can see it clearly in my mind’s eye. A converted barn, situated at the end of a leafy country lane, surrounded by fields full of cows and maybe a horse or two. Jamie’s office will be at one end— all exposed beams with classic mahogany and leather furniture. Perhaps chickens will be roaming around outside as tractors pull up to deliver vegetables straight from the neighbouring fields.
This image begins to fade as I follow my Sat nav instructions and take the next junction off the motorway. Country lanes look to be few and far between in this urban sprawl. Signposts along the tarmacked road point to a series of industrial estates. At the fourth such sign, I’m instructed to turn left and in three hundred yards will have reached my destination.
Having parked up, I make my way towards the large, uninspiring building which resembles some sort of aircraft hangar. Its grey concrete and corrugated iron walls match the overcast sky and the roughly surfaced car park. The only colour in this landscape is provided by the bright orange FraserFood logo emblazoned above the loading bays.
There’s a single door to the right with an intercom. I press it and wait a few seconds.
“Hello, there.” A cheery voice greets me. “Can I help ye?”
“Yes. Hello, I’ve an appointment with Ja— Mr. Fraser, Jamie. It’s Claire Beauchamp.”
“Aye, come on through. Jamie is expecting ye. Down the passage and third door on the left.”
I step into a long corridor, painted an unoriginal white. Fluorescent strip lights hanging from the ceiling cast a harsh brightness. The floor is covered with grey carpet tiles.—the same as in thousands of other working offices across the country.
What sets it apart and brings character to the otherwise anonymous environment is the artwork. Colourful photographs line the walls — a bowl of strawberries, their red glossiness accentuated by the white porcelain; a perfect corn on the cob, rivulets of melted butter flowing around the kernels; a plate of steaming tagliatelle, the parmesan shavings falling gently onto the pasta. Then, as I move further towards the office, the photographs change to a series of images that I instantly recognise, La Boqueria, one of the food markets in Barcelona.
I pause for a moment in front of a picture of one of the stalls selling spices. Strings of different chillies cascade down from the metal frame of the stall. The vibrancy of that market was intoxicating, the noise, the colours, the aromas. I remember wandering from stall to stall snacking on fat, juicy olives, slices of spiced ham and wedges of refreshing melon, just soaking up that atmosphere.
My stomach automatically rumbles at the memory just as Jamie steps into the corridor.
He laughs at this unconventional greeting. “And good day tae ye too. Ye found us alright then?”
“No problem. Sat nav brought me straight here. It’s—“ I stop myself before I say any more, but, as usual, my glass face gives me away.
“C’mon. What is it? It’s no’ what ye were expecting, is it?”
“No— yes—no. It’s fine. It’s just, well, I was expecting something more, er, rural… rustic, you know.”
He sighs, but I can tell that he’s not offended. “What, ye mean like on a farm? Wi’ chickens running around? And tractors bringing the vegetables straight from the fields?”
I nod, feeling not a little bit foolish.
“And down a wee winding country lane, that yer lumbering great vans and lorries have tae drive along? Wi’ no easy transport links fer all the deliveries? And having tae deal wi’ all the food hygiene standards in some great old barn?” He laughs. “Trust me, it may no’ be photogenic but it’s the best place fer the business.”
He takes my arm. “Let’s go intae ma office and I’ll make ye a cup of coffee.”
My stomach rumbles once more. “Don’t suppose you’ve got any of those lovely Spanish biscuits too, have you?”
*********
The display of colourful photographs continues in Jamie’s office. I don’t recognise the scenes, but, I’m guessing these are more local— fields of corn bordered by old drystone walls, hedgerows bursting with dark jewel-like brambles. I pause at a picture of an ancient stone mill, the calm water of the mill pond reflecting the rundown building perfectly.
“That’s a bonny picture, is it no’?” Jamie’s voice is low in my ear.
I turn around. He is standing behind me, gazing intently at the picture.
“It is. Where is it? I’m guessing it’s somewhere here in Scotland.”
“Aye, it’s the old mill at Lallybroch.”
“Where you grew up?”
He nods. “Generations of ma family used that mill tae grind flour fer them and their tenants. It’s empty inside now. The wheel has long since rotted away. Jenny and I would escape there whenever chores were tae be done. She took the photo, weel, most of the photos here actually.”
I study the photograph more closely. “She’s very talented as a photographer. Is that her job?”
“She’d love tae have done that, but once she married Ian and the bairns started appearing, she hasna got the time. Mebbe one day.”
He moves past me towards his desk and I catch a hint of his musky cologne. I find myself comparing it to the slightly synthetic cologne that Frank always favoured. I decide that Jamie’s is preferable. It’s more real, somehow, earthy and, well, more masculine.
“... does that sound ok?”  
I realise that whilst I was considering male scents, Jamie had been asking me a question. “Er, sorry, I was miles away. What did you say?”
“Am I really that boring tae ye?” He laughs. “I said I would make ye a coffee and invite Rupert tae come in and join us. He’s our Head of Product Development. Will ye no’ take a seat?”
I sit down on one of the chairs arranged around a circular meeting table and take a good look at the office while Jamie makes a phone call. The walls and ceiling are the same uninspiring white, livened up by all the photographs. There’s a couple of framed photographs near Jamie’s chair that seem to be more personal. I’m too far away to be able to see clearly, but they look like children... his nephew and niece perhaps?
Jamie’s ‘L’ shaped desk is made of grey wood, as is a tall bookcase and this meeting table. Simple, but clearly a considered purchase, no haphazard grouping of random furniture. The desk itself is remarkably free from clutter— just a laptop with two huge screens and a black leather document wallet. The contrast to the clutter on the desks in my office and home couldn’t be greater. Not that my clutter isn’t important to me—a collection of pots and dishes from my uncle’s archaeological digs plus a paperweight and letter opener that I remember, as a young child, at my parents’ house. Then I realise, looking at the family portraits surrounding Jamie’s desk, that he doesn’t need to gather mementoes from the past. He has a living, breathing close knit family creating memories all the time.
I’m well aware that most of my friends have more of a family than I have, or have ever had, and generally I’m fine with that. But every now and again it hits me right in the gut—this pang of...not loneliness, but more of being disconnected, rootless.
Before I can dwell on this,  there’s a faint tap at the door. It opens immediately and a woman stands in the doorway.  She’s easily past retirement age, quite short and… is sturdy a polite descriptor? Well, short and ‘motherly’ in appearance.
She’s very smiley too. Her eyes crinkle as she grins broadly before speaking. “Jamie, lad. I’ve come tae see if ye both want a coffee. I dinna mind making it. And mebbe a few biscuits?”
Jamie steps away from his desk. “Ah, Mrs. Fitz, how d’ye always ken what I want? Coffee would be grand. And fer ye Claire?”
“Coffee, please. Lovely. White, no sugar. Thanks.”
She looks at me for a moment before Jamie makes the introduction. “ Claire, this is Mrs Fitz. She’s worked wi’ me since I started and I dinna ken what I’d do wi’out her.”
He reaches across and pats her arm gently.
“Mrs. Fitz, this is Claire, a friend of mine. She’s been trying out our Spanish dinner party menu and has come tae meet wi’ Rupert tae give him her opinions.”
“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Fitz.” I hold out my hand.
She takes it in both of hers. “And it’s lovely tae meet ye too, Claire.”
She turns away and heads out the door.
“Right-oh. Two coffees it is then,” she says clearly, then carries on muttering under her breath as she leaves. “Friends, is it, then? A bonny lass, sure enough…”
Jamie smiles apologetically. “Mrs. Fitz can be a bit, weel...she’s been working with me a long time. She’s like a second mother tae me…”
He leaves the sentence unfinished, but I know what he’s thinking. Why can’t people understand that we’re friends, that’s all?
*******
Rupert is a complete delight, but somehow not what I was expecting. He rushes into the office just as Jamie and I are drinking our coffees. Nearly as tall as Jamie but quite a bit broader with a large beard, like an overgrown teddy bear, and clad in a sweatshirt and baggy ill-fitting jeans, he looks as if he would be more at home on a rugby pitch rather than in a development kitchen. With Jamie now standing next to him, the office suddenly feels rather small.
Jamie makes the introductions and we settle once more around the table. Rupert places his notebook and pen on the table.
“Ye dinna mind if I take a biscuit or two, do ye?” He asks, with a smile. He knows how tasty they are.
Jamie and I shake our heads and Rupert reaches out and takes two in his large, fleshy hand. He starts to eat, sprinkling crumbs all over his notebook.
“Ye canna take me anywhere,” he says as he tries to sweep the crumbs into his hand.
Jamie laughs and playfully punches Rupert’s shoulder. “Weel, ye can… but only the once, mind.”
There’s an easy camaraderie between the two of them. I’m guessing that Jamie has worked with the same people for quite a while. It’s good to see.
Rupert swallows, picks up a tissue and wipes the stray crumbs from his beard.  “Right-oh. So, Claire, thanks fer doing this—“
“No, I should be thanking you. It was a great meal.”
“Weel, glad tae hear that, but I would appreciate any improvements we could make. Is there anything we need tae change?”
I’ve been racking my brains all the way here, trying to think of something constructive to say rather than just reeling off a list of compliments, nice as that would be for Rupert and Jamie. And, honestly, I don’t know what more I can add. The food was excellent, the wine matched perfectly and the olives were a thoughtful addition.
I tell them all this and Rupert solemnly notes it all down. Sitting there, side by side, elbows almost touching, they look for all the world like two proud parents being complimented on their child’s talents. But they have every right to be proud.
“And nothing else?” Rupert persists. “Nothing we could do better?”
“Well, a couple of tiny suggestions. Maybe a few more pictures with the recipes would help. I’m not the most gifted cook.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Jamie trying to suppress a smile. He’s never seen me in the kitchen, maybe he’s imagining me as some sort of culinary disaster area. I vow to prove him wrong at some point.
“And,” I continue as Rupert scribbles in his notebook. “Perhaps add a couple of suggestions to complete the Spanish night. I made sangria to start the evening. Could you add a recipe for that?”
Rupert closes his notebook with a flourish. “Right then. Thank ye sae much fer that. Glad yer friends all enjoyed the food.”
He stands up, shifting the table as he does so.
“Weel, bye then, Claire. Lovely tae meet ye. Hope tae see ye again.” He shoots a quick look across at Jamie before leaving.
“Rupert’s a lovely guy,” I comment as the door shuts behind him.
“Aye, he is that,” Jamie shifts in his seat. “Listen, I need tae ask ye a favour.”
“Another one,” I joke. “Wasn’t the dinner party enough?”
I add a sigh, purely for dramatic effect.
“Ye can say no if ye want tae,” he continues. “But I was wondering… weel... Ian, that’s Jenny’s husband, his rugby club is having a charity dinner dance a week on Saturday. Jenny’s bought two tickets fer me and a plus one. D’ye fancy it? It would help me out of a wee bit of bother with ma sister.”
Now I’m intrigued about his “wee bit of bother” with Jenny. I don’t want to end up in the middle of some sibling squabble.
“How so?” I’m not giving an answer straight away. At least not until I know what the bother is.
“Jenny bought the two tickets fer me a couple of months ago. I think she was assuming I would bring Laoghaire. But ye ken what happened there. Anyways, she asked me yesterday about it, and ever so casually suggested I might bring Kelly— that was ma date the other night.”
The pattern of Rupert’s crumbs on the table appears to suddenly be of great interest to him. He studies them intently as he talks, his ears turning slightly pink as he does so.
“And?” I prompt him.
“And, I told Jenny that after Laoghaire and I broke up, I didna want tae disappoint her about the dinner and so I’d already asked ye tae come along. As a friend,” he hastily adds the last part.
So, what do I decide? I do love the opportunity to have a bit of a dance and rugby club dos are usually a bit of a laugh, in my experience. And of course, I know Jamie is offering as a friend, so I’m not worried about that.
“Why don’t you want to ask Kelly then?” I want the full story before I give him my answer.
“She’s a nice enough lass but I didna think we had any spark. Plus she was trying too hard. Fer example she asked me what films I liked, then when I told her, she was all ‘no way, they’re ma favourites too’.”
He adds gestures at this point, to demonstrate Kelly’s actions, one hand flapping excitedly, the other resting on my sleeve, lightly stroking through the fabric of my shirt. It feels—
“Apparently we have exactly the same taste in films, music, food, drinks, television and holidays,” he continues as he sits back and folds his arms.
“Sounds like a match made in heaven to me.” I joke. I can still feel the sensation of his hand on my arm.
He looks up at me and frowns. “I’m no’ joking. Ye would be helping me if ye came as ma plus one.”
“Ok then. I do know that I’m not on call. I can come and be your wingman, if you like. Just one question. What are your favourite films?”
“Star Wars.”
This wasn’t the answer I was expecting. He doesn’t seem like a typical fan. Maybe he has a dark side that I haven’t yet seen, with a secret stash of Star Wars figures and multiple light sabres.
“I’ve never watched any of them.” It’s true. I seem to be in the minority but I just don’t get the appeal.
“And I can tell from yer face exactly what ye think of them. But they’re classics, weel most of them, anyway,” he starts to enthuse.
I shake my head. I can’t see that he will ever convince me.
“Well, Sassenach, have I got a treat in store for you!”
And, worryingly, it seems that he’s up for the challenge.
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artificialqueens · 3 years
Text
Chase the Shadows Away (Taywhora) - Juno
Summary: It’s April 2020, the UK is in lockdown, and Tayce gets a hand-delivered letter from her neighbour Aurora which may change her life.
A/N: So this is set during lockdown and does mention covid, so please bear this in mind when reading if this will be a worry, but otherwise I hope you enjoy. CWs in place for alcohol, mental health mentions, and non-adherence to lockdown rules at one point. 
Otherwise it’s quite fluffy with some h/c. I hope you enjoy.
The first letter Tayce got was in early April.
She hadn’t had much post since the whole country had been locked down, no one allowed to move outside their front doors for more than once a day for threat of fines and penalties and even getting sick. Most of the letters she was getting this week had been birthday cards for her absent housemate. She’d put the various brightly-coloured cards and Amazon boxes in a pile outside Viv’s bedroom door, and gave the pile the middle finger every time she walked past it.
But today there was a plain, white envelope, with “Hi” written on it in glittery red pen, and when Tayce opened it, she found a piece of notebook paper that had been folded at least four times, and Tayce nearly threw it across the room with the effort it was taking to open.
This had better be worth it.
When she got it unfolded, she read the three lines in the same glitter pen, then again, and once more just in case.
‘Hi, I’m Aurora. I’m on my own in my flat 7D because my housemate moved home because of lockdown, and you seem to be alone too. Want to write to each other? X’
And Tayce couldn’t hold back the rush of emotion, as much as she tried - but she was alone, and she took comfort knowing only these four walls would see tears stream down her face.
——
Tayce was on her own in the flat.
In the day time she opened her work laptop, thanking god she was allowed to work from home; throwing a hoodie over her pyjama top just in time for the 9am meeting where her boss grinned at everyone and told them all to keep swimming and chin up and whatever other self-indulgent bullshit she had read in her How To Motivate Your Teammanual in the chapter about Managing Pandemics. 
Tayce was still surprised at how much bullshit her workmates seemed to swallow; all of them with the same broad smiles and straightened hair and shaved chins and eyeliner, for fuck’s sake - but Tayce copied them, knowing that not painting her own smile and her own eyebrows on was damning herself for the inevitable call and the simpering It’s Good To Talk conversation, followed by u k hun xx to be flashing repeatedly in the work WhatsApp group from all the team.
In the evenings, the only noise was the clink of the glass bottle against the wine glass. One glass was enough to make her a little sleepy, two was enough to make her dance, and three was enough to make her post something cryptic on her insta story and see if anyone DMed her. 
Sometimes they did. 
Joe liked to crack a few morbid jokes about how it was the apocalypse and we were all going to be dead by 2021, which didn’t help Tayce in the slightest. Ginny would message “You alright, bab?” at three in the morning, but never reply to any other message. Tia would send Tayce a picture of the banana bread she’d baked as if that would cheer Tayce up.
And Cherry sent her a message one time, telling her to look after her mental health, and then Tayce felt bad because Cherry worked for the NHS and only seemed to work and sleep right now, her insta photos showing her looking more and more gaunt, with #ClapForHeroes and #ProtectTheNHS appearing at the bottom of all her posts.
Nothing curbed the gaping black hole in Tayce’s chest, sucking everything that was good from her body and leaving her a shell.
Until the letter arrived.
——
Two days after she’d posted her own letter back to 7D, another letter arrived, in the same glittery red pen, this time addressed to her, with Tayce written on the front of the envelope this time.
‘Hi Tayce (sp?) nice to meet you, don’t worry I don’t know what to say either! Where in Wales are you from? I’m from Nottingham but I came to London for uni and didn’t leave! Are you still working rn? I got furloughed which is a bit shit. And my housemate is staying with her boyfriend so she can’t move back. Have you been clapping for the NHS? Someone on my floor was banging a pan or something!! Hope your ok? WB Aurora xx’
“I’m making a new friend,” Tayce had said to her mum on the phone later that night.
“In lockdown?”
“She’s delivering me letters.”
“How?”
“By hand, mum.” Tayce forced a laugh. “You know. Through the letterbox like a normal letter.”
“I hope you’re washing your hands before and after you open them, are you?”
“Yeah, of course,” Tayce grimaced as she said it.
“Good. Stay safe. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
One of these days, Tayce thought as she disconnected the call, she might be able to say it without her voice breaking.
——
By mid-April, a full month since lockdown had started and two weeks after the first letters between them, Aurora had given Tayce her instagram handle, and Tayce had given hers in return. Tayce found herself spending all of her Good Friday skimming down the page on moreauroramore, looking through all of her new pen pal’s photos and trying desperately not to look like an idiot by accidentally double-tapping any that were obviously over a year old.
Tayce had pictured Aurora in her mind as being over-excitable, short, with dark hair and lots of dusty pinks and baby blues and other pastel colours as her aesthetic, maybe with pot plants and cat pictures and cutesy little slogans surrounded by hearts. Instead she’d found a smolderingly attractive woman with a ridiculously versatile and sophisticated sense of fashion; one photo in a rococo-inspired summer dress, and the next in a cerulean blazer, matching trousers, and stilettos. Her hair was platinum-blonde, but it was hard to tell her eye colour as she seemed to own a never-ending plethora of colour contacts; and the eyebrow ring in the early pictures was replaced by a silver septum ring in later ones. 
Her own insta looked quite plain in comparison, Tayce thought to herself. The landscapes she liked to post were interesting to her but probably not to the magnificent person on Aurora’s insta. The last picture Tayce had taken was of herself with her brother and niece in red rugby shirts just before the Six Nations was on; the last selfie before the last time she’d gone home which was … only February, she realised. 
February felt like years ago.
When Tayce had awoken the next morning, she was greeted by the doorbell, and an Amazon driver sprinting away the moment she opened the door. A letter was on the doormat, in the familiar red glittery pen, and a single chocolate Easter egg. 
‘Happy Easter Tayce. Don’t know if you celebrate but lol thought you would like some chocolate anyway! Don’t eat it all at once. Aurora xx’
It made Tayce’s gut wrench with guilt that she hadn’t thought to get Aurora one.
But it made Tayce even more pained, once she had clicked onto her instagram, to see that moreauroramore had liked all thirteen of the pictures she’d posted this year.
——
The zoom call at the end of April with the others from her uni group, saw not just Cherry missing, but also Ellie and Veronica.
“Ellie’s moving this week,” Lawrence nodded at the screen, “but that was all she’d tell me. She didn’t say where. Or if she’s staying in Dundee or anything. I just know she’s still trying to get her internet set up and I think she’s a bit stuck.”
“What about Vee?” Ginny asked in a low voice.
They all recognised the somber tone. They’d all taken it up. A change in their voices that all of them recognised in a kind of collective telepathic awareness. A hush in the calls, as if someone were dying, or had just died. Whenever anyone was missing, it was always the same worry circling all of their minds: what if it’s covid what if it’s covid what if it’s -
Tia was shaking her head. “It’s not covid,” she said, reading the minds of everyone through the internet, but her voice was still solemn as she continued. “I spoke to her mum. She’s -“
“Say depressed, Tia, it’s fine.” Bimini spoke gently, but not all of them were as open as Bimini was. Especially when it came to Veronica, who was a brick wall when it came to showing what she was feeling.
“She’s - not in a good place.”
“Say mental health,” Bimini said, shaking their head. “It’s okay to not be okay.”
“I don’t think that’s gonna make her feel any better, Bim.” Tia rolled her eyes. 
“We’re all feeling this,” Pip nodded. “We all need to talk to each other.”
“Veronica won’t. Not yet. We just need to be there for her when she does. Anyway, who’s done anything interesting? Anyone else been trying banana bread? Everyone managed to find bogroll from somewhere now? No one is having the same problem that Joe had when she -“
“I don’t think we need to go any further with that one, love,” Joe muttered.
“I’ve made a pen friend.”
Everyone sat in stunned silence at Tayce’s sentence, mouths open like fish at feeding time.
“A pen friend? What is this, 1986?”
“Shut up, Ginny. I think that’s kind of cute, actually,” Tia mused, tilting her head to one side. 
Tayce nodded. “Something a bit different. She lives in my block of flats. Two floors up from me. Been nice, to talk to someone, ever since Viv buggered off to her boyfriend’s house. Seriously, as soon as Boris announced lockdown she was jumping in her car and off to Liverpool.”
“You said she was a bit flaky,” Tia said sympathetically. “What’s your new pen pal’s name?”
“Aurora.”
“A-what?” Ginny raised their eyebrows. “Can we just call her Rory?”
“No.”
“We should get her on a call with us when Veronica’s back. Ronni and Rory, sounds like Ant and Dec will have some stiff competition when they get wind of that.”
“Ginny -“ Tia began, but Tayce was trying to hold back a chuckle. 
——
‘Someone is talking about a street party on the 8th of May. Are you gonna go? I was gonna stay indoors but if you’re gonna go outside i will too xx’
Tayce knew she shouldn’t be thinking of meeting strangers outside her flat while the pandemic was ongoing, but she hadn’t seen a familiar human since March other than on a zoom call screen. 
‘Hi Aurora, yeah i will go outside for a little bit. Look forward to meeting you properly instead of over letters! Tayce’
And Tayce finally stopped hesitating, adding two kisses on the end for the first time.
The weather was meant to be lush for a May bank holiday, as Tayce knew because her colleagues wouldn’t shut up about it. Almost eight weeks of lockdown were beginning to show the cracks in all their faces - no more eyeliner, and even Linda in Accounts had stopped posting boomerang videos of her kids doing Joe Wicks workouts while she waved her arms behind them. 
So Tayce was over the moon when Friday rolled around and she could slam the Dismiss button on her phone alarm, turn over and sleep in until noon. Once she woke up though, she sat up with a jolt in her bed and realised she’d have to get ready; somehow it was important that she looked right today. 
It was a power play, she knew it. An armour. But there was just something about clothes that made her mood turn in an instant. Her favourite leather jacket was probably a bit too heavy for the warm sunshine - warm sunshine? In May? - so she opted for the black denim instead and a skirt that hugged her slender figure, leaving her hair loose and wishing she’d gone for a trim before the lockdown. Maybe she should take her scissors to it? 
She held the only scissors she had to hand - a pair of craft scissors - and wondered what her hairdresser mum would say if she knew that her daughter had taken non-styling scissors to the 30-inches of hair that she had. 
No - better not. Her mum could give her a go over once the lockdown period had ended.
Someone was playing tunes on a speaker already when Tayce came down the stairs, dragging the garden chair Viv had left behind and brushing the digestive crumbs off it. One of the neighbours she recognised from her floor handed her an ice-cold can of Fosters which she sipped, not really enjoying the taste but relishing the freedom of it all. She knew to keep two metres from everyone, and she knew Cherry would absolutely murder her if she disobeyed that rule.
As soon as Aurora came into view from the block of flats, Tayce knew that keeping to the two metre rule would prove a little harder than she had first thought.
Aurora’s insta pictures showed a fashion model trapped in a little box on a screen, striving to get out - but in the flesh, she looked as if she had just rolled out of the living room after a Tiger King marathon. The grey jogging bottoms paired with the crop top and zip-up hoodie were probably too warm for today - 23 degrees, the radio kept repeating - but she made them look so effortless and stylish that Tayce suddenly wanted to buy some. Her platinum hair was piled in a messy bun, dark brown roots showing but the lackadaisical nature made it seem like Aurora meant it that way.
On her insta page, Aurora was way out of Tayce’s league; but here in life, she seemed a lot more accessible, a lot calmer, a lot more real. 
Maybe it’s armour for her too. All this perfection in the photos. God. Why did I wear this?
She dropped her own deck chair down a reasonable distance from Tayce, taking another can of Fosters from the same neighbour and cracking it open. She took a swig, wiped her mouth on the back of her hand, and waved.
“Hi, Tayce. Here we are, then!”
“Yeah,” was the only thing Tayce could think of in response. Really cool. Very clever.
But Aurora was talking animatedly about how much she’d missed the sun, as she pulled a pair of sunglasses from her pocket and leaned back against the deck chair, claiming “Tesco are having them on sale - two for £12, so I got two - what else am I gonna do on furlough other than sunbathe!”
And the more the Fosters flowed - their neighbour’s 24-pack almost completely gone before 5pm, he seemingly wanting to give a can to the whole block - the more Aurora opened up her life history to Tayce. 
How much she wished she was still in Worksop and could go on the long walks into the forest. How she’d give anything to hug her mum, a care-worker, and how she FaceTimed her shielding grandad every Sunday at 6.30 just after he finished his tea. 
But most of all, how lonely it was every single night being alone in a flat in a huge city. Aurora dabbed her watery eyes with her thumbs as she described how much she loved everything that London had to offer when it was full of people, not dead to the world like it was now - and in this hollow place that lockdown was, she’d discovered that a city - any city, however exciting - was just a built-up area if you had no one to share it with. 
Tayce hadn’t expected to cry. She’d cried maybe once or twice this whole time in lockdown, still too numb to have taken everything in that was happening. But the moment she’d opened her mouth, suddenly the Fosters had started talking for her too, and she was spilling out her worries onto the pavement below them as Aurora rubbed her back. 
How her mum was furloughed from the hairdresser and her dad was always out in the lorry up and down the country. Her brother and sister-in-law, and her niece, were all still fine in Newport, but Tayce had missed her niece’s birthday, having to settle for blowing her a kiss down FaceTime and promising her through gritted teeth and cold fear that she’d give her the biggest cwtch ever as soon as this was over.
But now Tayce was in tears again, this time on Aurora’s shoulder, releasing her sorrows onto this woman who she had only exchanged written words with; now seeing her true soul laid bare in emotions that just refused to stop once she started. Aurora’s gentle hands ghosted through her hair, but then gripped Tayce tightly to her chest, planting a long, tender kiss on her hairline. 
How had this happened? How had social distancing become this? Two people, thinking they were islands, clinging to one another for dear life?
Tayce held her for too long.
Aurora’s hands froze as she realised what she had done at the same moment Tayce had.
Cherry is gonna kill me.
Aurora walked with Tayce back to her flat as the sun was setting. It was nine in the evening, the heat finally starting to break, and both of them were aching and tired, spent from their tears. Aurora gave Tayce’s hand a gentle squeeze but said nothing else, her eyes red underneath her sunglasses, and Tayce had felt herself harden once again, turning the key in the door and closing the outside world back to where it should be.
——
After two weeks had passed, both of them not developing any symptoms after their contact, Tayce had an idea. 
She put the letter through the letterbox in 7D at midday when she broke for lunch, and had a reply by half past one, a new record for Aurora.
‘Tayce, I’d love to form a support bubble with you. I thought you would have one already thats why i didn’t ask! Want to put on a film tonight and just chill? Bubble bud? Aurora xx’
So Tayce saw inside Aurora’s flat for the first time that same evening. After work, she practically sprinted up the stairs, thankful to get away from more of u k hun xx and her still-simpering colleagues.
It was very clean, as if it had only just been cleaned that day - freshly-washed surfaces, hoovered carpets, a sparkling bathroom - and Tayce marvelled at how tidy and orderly things were, a stark contrast from her own living space which had evolved into a nest of mess by now. Aurora’s living room and kitchen space were one area, with a mismatched sofa and chair facing the tv screen, hooking up a PS4 - Tayce hadn’t counted Aurora as a Dishonoured player either. The wall opposite the window was filled with small pictures of past fashion models - Kate Moss, Agyness Deyn, Cara Delevigne - all with matte black frames which had obviously been painted in lockdown, as one was on the coffee table drying over a copy of Hello magazine.
“My housemate’s not coming back, I can see it happening now,” Aurora shrugged, “so why not make the house the way I like it while I look for someone else to live with?”
Aurora poured Tayce a huge glass of wine, and that was followed by another; while she topped up her own glass liberally and kept shifting on the sofa as if trying to get comfortable. Tayce, for her part, took the chair instead, while Aurora tapped on the PlayStation controller to try to get Netflix up. The more she drank, the more cumbersome the controller seemed to become in her hands, until Tayce leaned over and took it away from her, Aurora’s fingers lingering a little too long on it before relinquishing.
When Aurora got up, meaning to pour them both a fourth glass of wine, she slipped on something and tumbled into Tayce’s lap in the chair, tittering something that sounded like “god I’m clumsy” through the giggles that came from her, unable to stop. Tayce slapped her on the back as she started coughing, but as that died down, Aurora straightened up, picking up Tayce’s hand in hers and drawing her up and away to join her on the sofa.
Lockdown had been so fucking lonely.
Aurora’s hand in hers was all Tayce needed to dissolve every wall she was still rebuilding from May Bank Holiday.
Aurora’s eyes were on her, she knew; through her peripheral vision as she tried desperately to cling to her focus on whatever episode of Tiger King this was.
When Tayce finally met her gaze, she averted it, turning her face to the window opposite them. Almost … playfully.
So Tayce looked back at the TV screen, but Aurora’s hand squeezed at hers, thumb in her palm pressing right in the centre, the pressure somehow travelling all the way to her gut. Tayce turned back to her, and this time Aurora did not look away.
“God, you’re gorgeous.”
Aurora looked at her through her eyelashes, lips parted in a smirk, curiously searching Tayce with her gaze as if wondering what her next move would be.
Tayce blinked incredulously. “Me? Like this? What do you mean, I’m gorgeous? Have you seen yourself?”
“And that accent, oh my days -“
“Go to Newport, we all sound like this.”
But the wine was hitting hard now and oh god lockdown is so fucking lonely and Tayce’s feet on the floor suddenly felt unsteady and Aurora was so fucking close to her on the sofa -
——
Once the hangover was gone, the memory of rest of the night felt like a dream, or maybe a nightmare. Tayce wasn’t entirely sure when she’d gone back to her flat, but she had, long before night had fully fallen and long after she was sure the burgeoning friendship she was finally making with someone lay in tatters two floors up from her.
The wine had washed away the strength she’d had, leaving her raw and vulnerable, and all the affection that had been growing since Aurora had first held her bubbled and burst into life. And Aurora must have felt the same magnetic pull, drawing them together across the sofa, nail marks still present in Tayce’s back that she could see in the mirror, a bruise forming on Tayce’s collarbone as Aurora had dipped a little lower. 
It had been Tayce who had halted it - not because she hadn’t wanted to, but because she couldn’t decipher how much of this was affection and how much of this was just two lonely people, starved of company, starved of normality, seeking and clinging to it in any form.
And now it was the following day, and Tayce still didn’t know.
The group call at the end of the day was interesting. She stretched over the back of the sofa in her living room to grab her water, and that must have been enough to flash a sliver of skin. 
“What’s that?” Lawrence asked loudly, prompting everyone else to go quiet. “Tayce? What’s that on your chest, hmm?”
“I didn’t see anything.”
“You’re not wearing your glasses, Ginny, you can’t see shit. What’s that on your chest? Why d’you have a bruise there?”
“Hi!” Ellie’s voice as she joined the call unexpectedly saved Tayce any further embarrassment; everyone shrieked when she came on, having missed the last two zoom calls following her move. “Thank God my internet is working now, I’ve missed all your faces!”
Tayce silently thanked Ellie’s timing and contentedly listened to the rest of them as they chatted about everything and nothing that they’d all missed. All of them were there; even Cherry showed up about twenty minutes in to wave at them and blow them kisses, her face even more pallid than before; before ducking back out to go to bed. 
Only Veronica was still missing.
“She’s been messaging me,” Tia explained, “and she said she’s feeling a bit better, but since she got furloughed, she’s feeling like there’s no point getting out of bed or getting ready because there’s nowhere to go.”
“Send her some love,” Tayce said, but Tia snorted.
“You send her it! She’s gonna feel better if she knows we all miss her.”
It was true though, Tayce realised after they all disconnected. They all seemed to be drifting apart, no more energy to continue with these online gatherings, even though there were so many virtual meetup groups and apps that there almost seemed to be no excuse now.
She looked back through her phone messages. She hadn’t messaged Veronica since early April, taking her silence as a sign that she wanted to be left alone; but what if it wasn’t? Veronica was a closed fist, everyone knew that. And Tayce’s brother? Again, early April, and a quick call the week after for her niece’s birthday. 
Lockdown, and self-isolation, seemed to be one and the same. 
So Tayce spent the rest of the afternoon sending messages to everyone she had neglected since then. Maybe they would reply, and maybe they wouldn’t - but there was no harm in reaching out, no negative consequences. 
By the end of the day, she was fielding messages back and forth from everyone she thought she’d lost through lockdown, the grey cloud over her head starting to lift, the fuzzy feeling disappearing and clarity settling in. She felt light, lighter than she had in weeks; and warm as the summery days they were getting in this late-May spring.
Towards the end of the day, she got a message back from Veronica at last.
Veronica: I’m doing ok. I got up and went for a walk today just to the park and back. It’s really nice although my hay fever sucks. Thanks for checking in on me i appreciate it x  Veronica: Oh also Tia said you had a hickey on the group call haha tell me what her name is x
Tayce was surprised to realise she was grinning at the phone as she read Veronica’s message, her fingers stroking the mark on her collarbone as if to savour the vivid image that it sparked in her head.
——
It was three days after their drunken kiss on the sofa that Tayce had another letter through the door. The same red glittery pen, the same scrawl, but the writing a little smaller as if Aurora wanted to diminish herself.
‘Hi Tayce. I’m really sorry if i came on too strong this week. Can we go back to friends? Want to hang out tonight, bubble bud? Aurora xx’
Tayce swallowed down the part of her that immediately rose up and cried that she … didn’t want to just be friends. 
Then it hit her.
God. I only met this girl properly this month. What’s wrong with me?
But she replied and immediately started clearing the house. 
She put the pile of Viv’s birthday cards and presents from the hallway floor into a cupboard under the sink, giving it the middle finger again; put the six-weeks worth of laundry on to wash; cleaned all the dishes; and dragged the hoover out of the tiny airing cupboard and got to work on the carpets. The hard floors she swept, and carried the bin bags out to the communal bins, all before midday.
“Who needs Joe Wicks workouts?” She muttered to herself, panting, as she tugged some marigolds over her hands to sort out the rest of the kitchen. 
By the time it was six, and time for Aurora to arrive, Tayce thought the house looked much better, and honestly, she felt much better too. The little spring clean she’d given the place had cleared a little clutter from her head as well. 
It’s nothing to worry about. She’d just coming over for food and -
Tayce grimaced as she realised she hadn’t thought of what to do for food. She thought back to the beans on toast she’d had at four and kicked herself for not thinking of that. Dominos was still delivering, so she brought up the app and busied herself looking through the list of pizzas.
Aurora hadn’t arrived by ten past six, and Tayce started to worry.
Maybe she’s changed her mind.
But Tayce refused to let that thought take any root. She looked at the clock, which of course seemed to slow down from having eyes on it, and firmly told herself that she would message Aurora at quarter past if she wasn’t here before.
With a minute to spare, Aurora turned up, grinning merrily and waving the bottle of rose in Tayce’s face.
“Hey bubble bud! Sorry I’m late, well I’m always late, sorry in advance if you expect me on time for anything!” Aurora took a step inside and her jaw dropped. “Wow, your place is well nice!”
“Thanks,” Tayce grinned, although she wasn’t sure what Aurora was looking at. Tayce wasn’t allowed anything on the walls from what her landlord said, but Aurora wouldn’t stay still - checking out the titles of the handful of CDs Tayce had brought down to London with her; scanning a nail along the books on the shelf above the TV.
“It’s nice to hold a book sometimes,” Tayce shrugged, “rather than just read it on the kindle app.”
When Aurora got to the kitchen, Tayce cringed. She’d have to confess.
“I haven’t got in anything to eat. Only - only some bread.”
“And pot noodles,” Aurora added, opening a cupboard and helping herself to the contents as if she’d lived here her whole life.
“And pot - oh, are you thinking, maybe …”
“No way!” Aurora slammed the cupboard door and grabbed her keys again. “Be right back!”
Ten minutes later and Tayce was at the hob over the oven with Aurora, dicing onions while she cut up a red pepper, mince that Aurora had grabbed from her own fridge was out and ready to go in too.
“I needed to use that up anyway,” she shrugged. “Please tell me you don’t just eat bread and pot noodles, Tayce, please. I need to give you a cooking crash course if you do! Didn’t you learn to cook at uni? Or didn’t you do much cooking before you went? Oh my days - no fry the onion off first, with the garlic - I’ll chop the mushrooms, Jesus Christ pot noodles …”
“I know how to cook, give me some credit!” Tayce murmured, but she couldn’t stop smiling. “I just haven’t been to the shop yet, it’s been a long week.”
Aurora closed her eyes and hummed in appreciation. “Just keep talking to me, please.”
“What about?”
“Anything! Your life, your family - I don’t know, house prices, I don’t care - but that accent, ugh -“ Aurora shivered.
“Yours is cute, too,” Tayce smirked.
Aurora looked at her reproachfully. “You’re lying.”
“Yeah, I am.”
It was no use. The air was full of electricity, static around them, and before Tayce knew what was happening, suddenly they were kissing again, this time stone-cold sober, while the onions burned shadows into the bottom of the pan.
——
Viv gave her notice on the flat at the start of June. 
“I just can’t afford to live here anymore,” she explained, sighing, when she got back and started to pack up everything in her room. “I’m gonna see if I can get some work back home.”
Tayce was numb, although she knew Viv didn’t mean it personally. It wasn’t her fault that she’d been made redundant straight after the lockdown ended, and it made sense that she wanted to be near her family. It was now four months since Tayce had seen hers, and she missed them every day, although she had been sticking religiously to her new routine of calling her parents every Saturday night and her brother’s family every Sunday afternoon. 
“I’m sorry that’s putting you in a tight spot, Tayce,” Viv muttered, hugging her, and Tayce hugged her back.
“Can’t be helped,” Tayce replied, which was all she could think to respond with that wasn’t an inarticulate growl in frustration.
Viv was adamant she would pay her final month’s rent, and pay her half the utilities even though she wasn’t there. But she had to go home.
“How was your move?” Tayce asked Ellie on the next group call on zoom.
“Shite,” Ellie replied, “but partly because we struggled finding someone to move us. There’s plenty of places around, plenty of places to rent and stuff, because everyone’s moved back to where they came from.”
“You’ll find somewhere else to live, bab,” Ginny murmured in a soothing voice to Tayce, stroking the side of the laptop screen as she liked to do to show affection now that she couldn’t hug anyone. 
“I know,” Tayce sighed. “It’s just a pain in the arse.”
She wasted no time. One of the spare room websites was always open in the background, and she was refreshing, looking maybe a little further out from central London to see if anywhere was cheaper, but nowhere was.
Then she spotted the dot in her own block of flats, and clicked the advert.
That’s - that’s Aurora’s flat.
Now she remembered. Aurora had mentioned something about her housemate moving out! It must now be official. 
She read through the advert - how was it £50 cheaper than what she was already paying? - and looked at the contact name for the housemate, and there it was in black and white pixels: Aurora Martin, use form below.
Grabbing a piece of notebook paper - one of the last bits left, she’d been ripping them all out to write to Aurora - she penned a letter, one of what might well be the last ones, and jogged upstairs to post it through her letterbox.
The response came back to her in less than an hour, a new record for Aurora.
‘Tayce! I’d love it if you wanted to move in here! OMG. My landlord will want references from yours, but if you can get them quick then he can approve you really fast, he’s working from home. OMG you made my day. Come up at 7pm xx’
“Work contacted me today too,” Aurora beamed as she settled with Tayce on the sofa. “They want me to start back next week! Can’t wait. Need to get that coin again now! I mean, I’m dead grateful, you know, that I still have my job and I was on furlough so the government paid most of my wages, but it will be nice to have the full package again!”
“What is it you do again?” Tayce asked.
“Oh - I work as a fashion buyer. But because fashion’s kind of stopped right now, most of the designers are shut. Reopening now, especially the ones in mainland Europe! Can’t wait to be on the phone to them all again.”
“Wait. You speak to designers in other countries?”
Aurora nodded. “I speak French and Spanish.”
“You -“ Tayce was dazed. “I didn’t know that!”
“Well why would you? I mean you’ve only known me a couple of months!” Aurora laughed, and leaned back closer to Tayce, her perfume overwhelmingly sweet in the air. “You’re not gonna know everything about me yet, bubble bud.”
“No,” Tayce purred, “but I can’t wait to find out.”
——
By the Monday after the move, early July, Tayce was all set up to go. She’d moved the bed into the corner as she liked it, arranged her books into a rainbow as she liked them, and unfurled the posters she’d been unable to hang in her last flat, mostly punk bands that she liked, Bimini’s band’s poster, and the noticeboard with all the tickets tacked to it of all the gigs she’d been to. The vanity with the mirror that she’d brought from home fitted perfectly next to the window so she could do her makeup with natural light; and it was large enough for her work setup, which was where she was now.
The flat layout was almost identical to the one she’d just left, and the room was the same one - Aurora having the slightly bigger room - but it felt a lot more comforting, knowing she wasn’t alone here any more, knowing she had a little more freedom in decorations, and knowing that the hollow feeling in her chest was starting to slow down for good.
She turned off her work laptop at five as normal, which was when Aurora came in. Tayce pulled her in, giving her a peck on the lips. 
“They’re gonna love you, I promise.”
Aurora just made a moan in the back of her throat and put her face in her hands, shrinking away from the vanity.
Tayce turned on her personal laptop, logging into zoom and connecting to the group chat. Her monthly uni call was set to half four today for some reason, and everyone else was already all there.
“Tayce! We wondered where you’d got to!”
It was Veronica’s voice, and Veronica’s face was in the top left. She still looked a little tired, and the shirt she was wearing looked suspiciously like a pyjama top, but she was here with them all, and this was a big step for her.
Tayce beamed at her. “So good to see you!”
“The move went alright then, bab?” Ginny asked.
Tayce nodded. “And there’s someone you should meet.” She pulled Aurora into frame, who still looked uncharacteristically shy for a moment before waving at the people on the screen. “This is Aurora.”
“Aurora!” Tia squeaked. “Like the princess!”
Aurora rolled her eyes. “Yes.”
“So we’ve got Rory and Ronni here together at last!” Lawrence exclaimed, while Veronica gave the camera two fingers.
But Tayce just grinned at her friends on the screen, far apart but together in this strange way. Aurora’s nails dug into her shoulder, still a little nervous, but even that was fading as she got more comfortable. 
Aurora had been right - the city was just a lot of bricks in intricate patterns without someone in it that made it a home. 
And this just might be becoming one.
27 notes · View notes
florencewritez · 4 years
Text
Euphoric
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AN: have a good day <3
WC: 6431  words
WARNINGS: consumption of alcohol, cursing "Mia, babe I genuinely don't know what I'd do without you," I told her as she carefully applied another white dot above my eyebrow to the row she'd already done. Mia only smiled, squeezing my cheeks a little more and telling me to keep my eyes closed or she'd poke them out. Begrudgingly, I did as she asked, tearing my eyes away from the stunning red look she'd given herself earlier. When the Glastonbury Festival started approaching quicker and quicker and me and Mia still had nothing planned, it had been Will who suggested who went as a pair. Angel and devil. Of course, we had to jump on the idea, we'd never pass that photo opportunity. That had been around four weeks ago. Now, it was only around an hour before our group would leave for Glastonbury and I finally felt the festival excitement bubbling in my stomach. Clearly, it bubbled out too, making me squirm a little, as Mia scolded me for moving and again repeated her empty threat of poking my eye. I only giggled. Mia was the least likely person to poke someone's eyes out, let alone mine. She knew it too because when I peeked my eye open, I saw her soft smile, eyes crinkling and making a single star she'd stuck on fall off. By the time we arrived, I was sure they'd all be gone."All done! You can look now."
"Finally." She playfully smacked my arm and handed me a hand mirror. The girl looking back at me felt like a different person. Roségold shimmery eyelids with a small line of white streaking through the glitter. Pretty highlight covering my cheeks and nose, like I'd captured the very essence of a rainbow on my face, complete with two white strokes at the top of my nose. And to top it all off, the white dots above my eyebrow, complete with little jewels in between each dot. Somehow, I actually did feel angelic, more than I had when I'd actually put the wings on that were supposed to be the trademark angel piece. Mia truly had worked wonders. "I can't believe this is really me, you're makeup skills are underrated," she snorted and sat down beside me, tilting the mirror to check her hair, hand tucking a spare curl behind her ear, lips turning up into a smile. "It's payback for styling my hair, don't undersell yourself either y/n." Will's voice echoed down the hall, telling us we were leaving to catch the bus soon and I smiled at the dark-haired girl beside me. I could already feel the music pounding through my veins, the adrenaline pumping through me after the fairground. I'd been attending festivals with Will and our friends since we'd moved to London together, having grown up together as neighbours and decided to pursue YouTube together. Some of my best memories in recent years were spent in a random field usually used for dairy farming, screaming lyrics to a song I didn't know I knew, clinging to someone's wrists as we jumped up and down to the beat. The inevitable headaches were always worth the feel of the moment, not to mention the pictures dotting my wall of the before and after that always made me smile when I woke up. George, Will, Becky, James, Aria, even a few random strangers always greeted me, either pissed out of their mind or suffering a severe hangover. However, whilst Mia's face did make an appearance in several non-festival pictures on my wall, this would be the first time we attended a festival together. She'd only started dating Will a little over a year ago and at the time, she hadn't quite been welcomed to the group enough to join us for festival season. Now though, after nights spent together with our group at clubs or nights out and a lot of sleepovers with just me, her and Aria, it'd be a sin to not bring her. I turned to face her, excitement flashing in my eyes and took her hand in mine. Mia smiled back at me, squeezing my hand. "I can't believe this is the first festival we'll spend together Mia, it feels long overdue." "The first of many right?" I saw a flicker of anxiety pass through her eyes and knew she sometimes felt she didn't fit in our group, even now. I understood where she was coming from, it was always hard to find your footing in such a tight-knit group of people who'd known each other for ages, but truly, everyone loved her just as much as the others. Especially me. "Of course. You're one of us now." She wrapped her arms around my shoulders in a short tight squeeze, our perfumes mixing together for just a second. It was a sweet moment, my best friend hugging me close, but I couldn't help but tease her. After all, it was Will she was dating. "Though if I have to watch you and Will make out I will puke, that's too much for me. May I remind you I knew him when he was a square little lad in a diaper." Mia rolled her eyes, pulling me to my feet. I was reminded of the silver heels I was wearing on then when I stumbled forwards, grateful for her being there to make sure she caught me. "Oh please, it's not me and Will anyone is worried about. Can we talk about you and Alex?" She winked. I flushed pink, (which probably looked rotten combined with the highlight) and Mia grinned, her tongue peeking through the gap in her teeth. Alex. At first, when Will started blowing up, dragging me along from almost being featured in his videos, he started making a lot of new friends that I had never met before for the first time in our lives. Before that, we'd always had the same friend group, even through the awkward high school years where friend groups were extremely messy. One day, he'd managed to drag me to a bar with his new friends, despite my complaining, and that's where I'd met Alex. Or rather, where we met each other. Stupid swooped hair with eyes that rewrote my definition of blue eyes the very first time my eyes met his. It had been Alex who managed to integrate me into Wills new group and Alex who remained the closest person in our group to me even to this day. Alex who, along with George, my favourite mask-wearing bloke, I moved in with once Wills place got a bit cramped. And of course, Alex who all my friends liked to tease me about dating. Of course, they did the same to him, probably worse considering the boys were usually a bit dirtier mouthed with each than with the girls, but I was the only one who turned red all the time. Probably because they were right mostly. When Mia prodded about the way I looked at him, my efforts to say there was nothing to prod at were all lies. When James would wink at me when Alex would pull me in closer on nights out, always downing whatever drink was in front of him before I could glare. When Will sat me down one day, patting my knee, and asked if I liked him, he saw past my eye rolls and dramatic head shakes. Most of all it was George who brought it up, always finding a way to shove at least five comments a day about our relationship and giving me the look when I'd mumble a comment back. Because yes, of course, I liked him. I had a stupid school girl crush at the same age I got blackout drunk and could legally do drugs in some countries. Alex was the nicest person I'd ever met, always treating me with such kindness and respect. Some nights I'd pass out by my desk when editing, exhausted from the hectic schedule I forced myself to follow. When I'd wake up, my video editing would be finished and there'd be a sticky note by my head, something that would make my heart beat a little faster, with his signature and a small heart. Not to mention the blanket thrown over my shoulders that smelled faintly of him. That was just one of the many things Alex did for me regularly without ever asking for anything. Yet, something deep inside me screamed to not do anything about it, screamed it was purely platonic on his side. Alex would constantly chatter about what a great friend I was, how much he loved me as a friend. For some reason, him friend-zoning me accidentally hurt a lot more than if he hated me. At least then there was a chance he'd see me as something more than a best friend, even if it was a mortal enemy. Mia cleared her throat and I snapped back to reality, laughing awkwardly. "There's nothing to talk about Mia. We're just friends." If Will hadn't called again, I would have been in for a lot of questions and yet another speech begging me to just tell him. Instead, she just sighed and rugged on my arm. "We'd best be going before his head explodes." "That'd be a sight to see. He doesn't deal well with stress you know," I told her, walking out of my room with our arms interlocked. "Did you know during our GCSEs, I found him out my back in the wet dirt, mumbling algebraic formulas?" "Ay, y/n are you telling that bloody GSCE story again?" Will called, peeking his head out from around the corner. His festival sunglasses were perched in his hair and I couldn't help but giggle.  "I'm sorry Will, it's just so fucking hilarious." "To be fair Will," Mia said, holding back a laugh, "it's pretty funny." Neither of us could hold back our laughter and finally cracked when his glasses slid down his face. Will groaned and told the boys waiting on the couch behind him we were bullying him again. I heard James say he probably deserved it, followed by Georges laughter and Alex's giggle. "Are they ready yet?" Aria called, having arrived with James already ready way before me or Mia had even started. Mia let go of my arm and walked ahead to the living room, posing at the doorway. Aria gasped and said she'd looked gorgeous and Will said the same, snaking a hand around her waist. Gross. Still, no matter how gross I called Mia and Will sometimes or how much I insisted nothing was going on between me and Alex, it didn't stop me from smiling like an idiot when he stopped giggling, calling me pretty. Schoolgirl crush. That was all that was. We'd finally piled onto the coach awhile after before pictures already filling my camera roll and only two videos on my Instagram story. One of me recording when Mia was doing my makeup and the other just our group leaving me, George and Alex's apartment to get the coach simply titled 'it begins'. Once on the coach I came to the startling revelation everyone expected me to sit with Alex, the couples all pairing up and Becky insisting she absolutely had to sit with George. My eyes stared out the window, surprising heavy despite not doing anything yet. "You alright?" Alex asked, poking me in the ribs as the coach finally started, several cheers erupting around us. I couldn't help but smile back, nodding my head. His eyes didn't stop looking worried so I opened my mouth. "I'm fine, don't worry Al. I'm just tired for some reason." "To be fair, you and Mia were up half the night talking about today. I warned you to sleep you know, don't blame me." I giggled remembering how he'd come into my room several times to warn me and Mia to get some sleep. Back then we'd only waved him off, saying we were having girl talk. Now, I wished I'd listened as a yawn escaped my throat. "See?" "Fine, you win. I should have slept earlier last night. I'll be fine when we get there, the pure adrenaline will be enough to keep me up for the entire festival." He didn't look convinced. "It takes around an hour and a half to get there you know." "I'm aware." "Go to sleep, I'll wake you when we arrive. Promise." At first, I was going to deny and say I'd be fine, ask his opinion on the latest Star Wars movie so I could listen to him ramble again. However, as another yawn escaped me, I smiled and nodded, telling him he'd better wake me up when we arrived. "Of course I will, I need someone to go on rides with me. We both know the others are pussies." I smiled, eyes closing without me telling them to. "Of course they are. We're the only brave ones on this bus. We'll ride all night." Alex raised his eyebrow but I was too tired to care, leaning my head on the bus window. The loud rattling actually helped ease me into sleep and the last thing I remembered before waking up was hearing a snippet of James and Arias conversation behind me, laughing about some joke I didn't understand. Gross couples. "N/n, mate, everyone else is waiting outside. Can you please wake up." It was dark for a bit, my dream ending before it really begun because of Alex's voice cutting through the cloudy landscape I'd arrived in. Whatever I was lying on was warm and I nuzzled in more, sleepily asking for five more minutes. Alex chuckled and poked my cheek. "We've arrived you know. The first festival of the year? The one you're usually most excited for?" I had no idea what he was talking about till the wings I had on ached against my back. Shit. The fucking festival. I jumped up quickly, too excited to be embarrassed about the fact I'd somehow ended up sleeping on Alex's instead of the window and smiled. "Everyone else is outside yeah? Do I look okay?" It was then I noticed the pink on Alex's shoulder, sticking out a lot against the light blue denim. Crap, my lipgloss. I opened my fanny pack, white to match my outfit of course, and searched for that stupid tube of lipgloss I'd brought to retouch it later. Of course, I hadn't planned to wipe it off completely on my friends' fucking jacket before I even got off the bloody coach but hey, at least I was prepared. Finally, I found the blasted thing, under my purse, phone, portable and a small bottle of vodka, of course at the very bottom and pulled it out, holding it like a sacred Egyptian jewel.Then there was another problem. "Crap, I didn't bring a mirror. How am I supposed to apply it now? Wheres my blasted phone?" Again, I started to scramble through my bag. Alex gently grabbed my wrist, stopping me from shoving my hand around. "I can do it for you, it can't be that hard. I've watched you do it to yourself like a million times."I paused. For some reason, that sounded like the worst best idea ever. I sucked my teeth for a moment before nodding. "Go on then, it's a challenge." I tossed the tube onto his lap and turned my face towards him, urging him to do something before I did. He unscrewed the tube, a focus in his eyes I'd only ever seen when he was working a video before and then gently placed his hand on my cheek, leaning in. I parted my lips as he carefully did his best to apply an even layer of sheer pink, so close I could feel his breath on my face. I gulped, moving closer to him subconsciously, hand gripping his thigh. "I think I'm done," he whispered, pulling the lipgloss down but still not moving back. In fact, I felt his hand tighten into my hair, tugging it slightly. My eyes darted from his eyes to his lips. "Thanks," my voice was barely a whisper, more of a gasp honestly, and still neither of us leaned back. I wondered if his eyelashes were always this dark or he'd changed overnight. "Oi lads, I'm going to have to start driving to pick up the 2 o clocks now. Are you okay back there?" The bus driver suddenly called, peeking his head out of his seating area. I snapped back into my seat, zipping my bag closed as Alex cleared his throat, standing up. He told the bus driver we were fine, that I'd lost a contact and then we scrambled off the bus, pulling oh hands back at even the slightest contact. The moment my feet touched the grass, I was swooped away by Mia and Aria, both smirking at me, eyes wide. "What?" I asked, my voice a lot more bashful than I meant it to. "What was that?" Aria asked, Mia nodding behind her. Arias's hand was resting on my shoulder, Mia grasping at Arias in a small human centipede. "What was what?" Completely inconspicuous, they'll never know. "Dude, James told us he'd seen you and Alex nearly kiss Alex on the bus," my eyes widened and I was quick to ask how he'd possibly seen that, bus windows weren't the easiest to see through. "He went back on to tell you and Alex to hurry up and instead found you knee-deep in a shift session," Mia exclaimed, a giggle in her tone. "Nothing happened. I just asked him to put my lipgloss on because I didn't bring my mirror." Both of them raised their eyebrows and slowly nodded. "Nothing happened," I repeated slower, making sure to make eye contact with both of them. They seemed to let it go, at least for now, and Becky's voice cut through the air and her arms were thrown over Aria and Mia's shoulders. I laughed at their surprised faces smiling at Becky who already seemed to have cracked up the drink she'd brought in her fanny pack. "Come on girls, let's go in before the boys yeah? The real show doesn't start till tomorrow when performers come so I say first stop the pier yeah? I want some candy floss." Becky looked at me, hoping I'd take her side so she'd get her damn candy floss and I complied, laughing and throwing my head back as I threw my arm over Mia's other side. "I'm down for some 1pm candy floss. Feel like we're going to have a lot of that this weekend ay?" Becky whooped again as Mia and Aria agreed and we all started to walk towards the entrance, Mia yelling for the boys to hurry up and follow before they got lost. Still, even as I laughed at another joke Becky told, posing for a video Mia was taking as we entered, I couldn't help but let my mind linger to that bus seat, to my wet lips of floss, to crystal blue eyes, to what could have happened. I tossed my head over my shoulder, hoping to see Will or George or James or even the fucking busman to distract myself but of course, instead, I met the same stupid blue eyes. He stopped talking and looked at me, I took a deep breath and then James nudged his side and Mia squeezed my ribs and the moment was over. God, this stupid tension had to arrive now, didn't it? Couldn't have waited till after festival season? Still, nothing a bit of alcohol couldn't help drown out, right? Right? "Are we going to go on the rides today lads or are we waiting for that madness till tomorrow?" George yelled over music playing, the night being relatively old at that point. Aria and James said they were heading to their tent now so they'd pass for now, as did Mia and Will after Mia persisted a little. Becky tucked her arm into mine and asked if I wanted to go to our tent yet since we were sharing and I thought it over, biting my cheek. The air still smelled like candy floss, as did Becky's breath and probably mine, though there was a slight sting that I put down to the few shots I'd downed so far, not enough to be pissed just yet. That was for Saturday night. I thought it over for another second before shaking my head, pulling back for Becky's grasp. "Actually Beck, you go ahead. I'm going to stay back with Alex," I turned and gave him a small smile, finally meeting his eyes for the first time since the incident and he smiled back. "He owes me a few hundred rides to live up to his earlier words, right Al?" "That's right. You can go back too if you want George, you keep yawning on me." "Yeah, I think I'll pass on watching whatever the fuck that's going to be you're right, I'll make sure Becky gets back to her tent fine. I'll wait with her till you decide what you're doing yeah?" I didn't ponder on what George meant and only let out a whoop, promising Becky I'd get back fine. She smiled, her nose scrunching and she pressed a kiss to my cheek before nodding at George to go. I watched her go with him, a few close encounters with people already puking on the ground from a really bad-or good-night depending on your perspective. I jumped when I felt someone take my hand until I realized it was Alex, his voice close to my ear, making me shrink away. "So Will and that are already boning huh? Think they could have waited till tomorrow to settle in at least." I snorted and pushed him away, gagging at that thought. "Jesus Alex please refrain from giving me that image. Will is still twelve years old to me. Not to mention little Aria with my man James." "Your man James? I'm offended I thought I was your man." There he goes again, that stupid your man joke. Still, it did make me smile genuinely, even if I rolled my eyes to hide how my face was so bright. I took his hand and let it rest over my shoulder, pressing a soft kiss to it as we walked towards the flashiest ride. "Of course you're my man. My favourite man. But you currently aren't riding anything so I think you're a man backing out of his promise," I carefully evaded a man pissing, his poor girlfriend looking disgusted beside him, still keeping my eyes on Alex beside me. "Then let me prove it to you, three rides on this bastard. Unless you're too scared?" I chuckled, stopping to take his other hand and lean up, glaring me eyes threateningly. "Alex Elmslie, you're fucking on. The first to chicken out this weekend has to do what the other says." He thought about it for a moment before nodding, returning the glared eyes. "Okay, then y/n l/n. First challenge is this. Oh, and by the way, I'm not going to lose." Oh, it was definitely on. The last day arrived quicker than anyone wanted to and before I knew it, my suitcase was packed again, ready for the coach that would pick us up tomorrow. Still, there was one more night to enjoy and especially one last performance. Becky put her phone down, sighing as she tucked her hair behind her ear again. "Babe, we have to go soon. Billies performance will definitely be packed and I don't know about you, but I want to be as close as possible." I smile back, finally satisfied with my last day look. A simple soft pink makeup look complete with a light pink dress and flats. Flats made it a lot easier to hop around. "I'm ready Beck, just waiting for the others to show up at this point. You definitely told James and Aria to meet us here right?" Becky nodded, checking her phone again but her eyes rolling at the lack of new messages. I considered just going to save a spot for our group with just Becky until there was a yell outside asking if they could come in. A few moments later, James Marriotts face peeked through the now unzipped hole of our tent, a smile on his face. After another second, Arias's face appeared on top, face covered in pretty blue glitter. "You ready to be going then? Mia will kill me if we don't get a good spot." James tilted his head, a serious tone to his not really a joke-joke. "Oh I know," I edged towards the tent door, smiling. "She's been raving about this performance for weeks now. If she doesn't get to see more than a bean from a distance, she'll have all of our heads." Aria laughed and they both stood back, letting me step into the warm air. Ah, England's summers, surprisingly warm most of the time for such a known shit weather country. "Alex wouldn't shut up about it last night either to be fair though I suspect at least half of that was due to the drink." Becky followed me out and shared a glance with the couple. Aria licked her lips and looked away. Becky seemed to stifle a laugh, disguising it as a slight cough. I narrowed my eyes at James, hoping he'd crack and eventually he did, sighing. "Y/n, we were wondering if that stupid competition thing was still going on." I raised my eyebrows, falling into step with the trio as we headed for the stage she was performing at in an hour. "Yeah, we decided to keep it going till the festival was over. Why, would you like to join?" I teased, receiving unimpressed grunts from the whole group. Aria piped up next, seeming to take a long time in what she said next. For some reason, I felt like I wasn't going to like what she had to say. "It just feels like it's delaying the inevitable or something, that's all." "What's the inevitable?" "You and Alex getting married and having six children, three dogs and a cat." Becky chirped up, giggling. Aria and James laughed along with her. I could tell that I'd turned red and unfortunately, no makeup could cover that mess, which made everyone laugh a little harder. "I don't like Alex, we're just friends." "N/n, we were all there that night last year. Plus, there's behind such a weird vibe with you two lately, not to mention the way you look at each other all the time. Like bloody puppies or something." Aria tells me and this time, my face pales. That night a few months ago. It had been just another late night out at the club, some music playing in the distance as we all had a chat and chugging back as much as we could consume without dying. I decided to be brave and asked Alex to dance, tugging him to the floor before he could refuse. At first, we'd just been messing, twirling and more so stumbling around the place, clinging to each other for support as the world seemed to spin. It'd been just as I fell forwards the DJ announced they were starting romance hour, the music switching from stupid random beats to the soft vocals of Billie Eilish, singing about ocean eyes and falling from a height. Neither of us moved, my arms remaining wrapped around his neck as they had to stop me from falling, Alex's softly placed on my waist. "I like this song," I told him, leaning up to his ear on my tippy toes so he could hear me. "Me too, Billie's proper class." I snorted, falling back onto my heels. "It reminds me of you actually, this song," Alex tilted his head, pulling me in a little closer. "Because your eyes are blue are so pretty. You know, the first time we met the first thing I noticed was how pretty they were, even before I thought anything about how soft your hair looked. Will had to nudge me back to reality. Felt like everything just suddenly made sense." My words were slurred, heavily influenced by tequila and the heaviness starting to fall over my eyes. Still, I felt his lips press against mine, felt how it was better than any drink or drug. Perfectly moulded together, as though it was meant to be. I pulled him closer, fingers curling into his hair and he gripped desperately at my dress, his fingers able to be felt through the stupid fabric.When we'd pulled back, the song changed and I suggested we headed back to our friends, didn't look him in the eye. He agreed and we never spoke of it again. I had assumed our friends hadn't seen, that we'd been swallowed into the crowd as just another couple making out to a song. The look on my friends face at that moment told me otherwise."I just thought none of yous had seen that," I stammered, eyes looking to the ground so I didn't have to meet their eyes. "Of course we did, you were only a few feet away. Honestly, after that, we'd all just assumed you were dating in secret until this challenge thing." James explained, pointing to the girls to back him up. Both of them nodded, Aria looking slightly guilty and Becky just grinning.Great, everyone thought I was shagging my stupid crush. "Well we aren't, that was just a drunk mistake. Me and Alex are just friends, I promise." None of them looked convinced and I decided to pretend nothing had happened, saying we should hurry before all the good spots were taken. They didn't mention how I'd just moved on and agreed, breaking into a conversation about how excited they were instead. Even though I joined in, laughing when James told a joke or agreeing with Becky when she'd waffle, nothing could erase the strange feeling in my stomach. I couldn't quite decipher what it was, nervousness, guilt for lying about not liking Alex maybe, perhaps just pure excitement from seeing Billie. Whatever it was, it settled deep in my stomach and didn't go away, even as the others joined us at the spot we'd found. In fact, it only worsened when Alex landed beside me, whispering that the next challenge was to sing louder than the other, his hand resting ever so slightly on my shoulder. This would be a long night. My throat ached, begging for the relief I refused to give it as my voice croaked out the lyrics to bellyache like I'd be shot if I didn't. Alex gripped tightly at my wrists, both of us jumping up and down like idiots. I could hear Mia behind me, most likely on Will's shoulder and somewhere in front of me, George was laughing at Becky and James' awful slightly drunk dance moves, Aria most definitely recording to laugh at when they had sobered up. The rest of the world didn't matter at that moment and I pulled my wrists away from Alex's wrist to hold his face, laughing at his expression when I squeezed it. The song came to an end, turning into only loud cheering and instrumental as I croaked out that he looked extremely stupid. He pouted more and I laughed more, a slight snort coming out. The vibe of the audience changed when Billie sat down, announcing she'd be singing an oldie. Everyone got even more excited and couples linked together like magnets, arms around necks and eyes on eyes. I rolled my eyes at the gross displays of affection, letting my hands drop to rest on his shoulders. The first chord of the song played and I felt both of our bodies freeze, my throat becoming suddenly sore. Oh. It was that song. Of course, it was. Everyone else was too occupied to notice how we both stopped singing, how I opened and closed my mouth a few times before deciding to keep it shut. Except, of course, Alex and his stupidly perfect blue eyes, squarely focused on my own. "Al, we need to talk." No, we didn't, why did I say that. Shut up. "Okay." Great, no going back now. That'd make it worse. I cleared my throat. "You don't remember this but I can't pretend it didn't happen anymore. There was one night awhile ago, we were both very drunk. We had a moment and kissed. Everyone actually thought we were dating for ages." "Wait you remember that?" I nodded, swallowing harshly. If anyone had asked why my throat was suddenly dry and closing in, I'd have blamed hayfever. That would have been a lie. "N/n, I've been waiting for you to talk about it for ages. I thought you'd forgotten." My heart stopped, mind still doing cartwheels to try process the pure idiocy that was currently radiating off of both of us. Billie hit the chorus at the same time Alex leaned down ever so slightly, lips just grazing against mine for a moment as if testing the waters. I didn't hesitate to press my lips back against his, more full of emotion and present, saying everything my lack of worlds could never. I could hear the crowd cheering and clapping, the song ending, our friends whooping, but all I focused on was my heartbeat pounding out of my chest, his heartbeat against mine. When I finally pulled back, my eyes remaining closed for an extra beat to process what just happened, I saw him smile. Some people liked to say blue eyes were overrated and I used to find myself agreeing with them. Why so many love songs about boring old blue eyes, the most common eye colour, and not the mysterious browns and mesmerizing green? But at that moment, I understood. It felt like I'd seen him again for the first time but also met eyes with someone I'd known forever at the same time. A mixture of nostalgic warmth and crazed excitement wrapped into a crystalline package. Ocean eyes. And I understood. Mia threw her arm around my neck and yelled that this was our song, swinging me around. I chuckled, pulling her in closer by the waist and allowing her to tug me away. Alex didn't mind, turning around to talk, or rather shout, at Will, cheeks slightly tinted and a certain buzz in the way he laughed that wasn't there ever before. Pretty. "So," he said, arm around my shoulder and Ferris wheel slowly reaching the top. "What do you think about telling our friends we actually are dating this time?" I shrugged, nuzzling closer to the soft fabric of the hoodie he'd thrown on, probably leaving flecks of glitter that would never go away. He wouldn't care. He never cared about stuff like that. In fact, I think he had the right face for makeup. Maybe he'd let me do his makeup if I asked for a video, a festival look and q+a wrapped into one. The smell of cotton candy wafted up from above and somewhere below, I could just about hear Becky screaming on some ride. "They can figure it out themselves. Probably already have knowing our friends. Same with the fans honestly. Alex didn't answer, rubbing circles on my arm with his thumb instead. My body let out a shaky happy sigh. "Look, we're at the top now. Stopped for just a moment too." I peeked one eye open and smiled at the pretty sight before us, the lights of the rides mixing with phone flashlights and distant concert stages, smells of food stands, drink, weed, the sound of faint music, screams, laughter, happy yelling. Of course, the prettiest sight to me was the shimmering stars high above us, our interlocked hands resting on his chest. As I heard Becky let out another shriek, I was reminded of something from earlier that weekend and smile cheekily, sitting up to properly look at my boyfriend. God that felt to think without it being imaginary. "You know, technically you stopped singing before me which means you lost our game." "That sounds fair to me. So, whats my challenge then?" I pretended to think, finger tapping my chin as if I didn't already know exactly what I was going to say. "You have to be the one to tell Becky shes staying with George tonight because you're staying with me." He raised his eyebrow and turned a bright shade of red. I only smiled wider. "You lost the game, Al, those were the rules." "I haven't lost anything actually, I'd say I won a lot today," he held our interlocked hands up. And, if I wasn't so very in love with him, I would have puked. Because I was, I just rolled my eyes and made him promise to not back out. He insisted he wouldn't and walked straight over to Becky the second we were off the ride. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't just a bit more embarrassed than him suddenly when Becky gasped and grabbed my arm, giving it a slight shake and congratulating me on moving from big fat crush to a big fat relationship. The next Sunday, new pictures dotted my bedroom wall and my Instagram feed. There was a few that overlapped, a group shot by the pier, picture of me and the girls all on a ride, Becky laughing so hard alcohol shot out of her nose, me and Will recreating the same photo we did every year, but most were only on my wall. Me and George taking a shot at the same time, arms interlocked, James watching on with pride. Aria and a random stranger who happened to be wearing the same shoe hugging. Me and Mia in our outfits, laughing so hard we cried or spilling drinks on ourselves. A lot of Will and me simply existing together, whether it be dancing or screaming on a ride. Strangers I found interesting. But most were of Alex. A shot someone snapped when we were on the Ferris wheel. Selfies from just about every location at the festival. And of course, my personal favourite, the one James took on the bus on our way home, when this time when he applied my lipstick, I immediately ruined it with a kiss that told our friends everything they needed to know. When I sat down by the edge of my bed to admire my handiwork, years of photos mixing and telling a story, Alex grunted slightly and woke up from his sleep. He sleepily asked if I'd like to make brownies in a bit before pressing a kiss to my cheek, resting his head on my shoulder. His shampoo filled my nose and the soft material of his jumper pressed against my skin. God, I was ever so glad I understood why there were so many songs about blue eyes.
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I’ll be there if you need me
@fuckyeahfraxus ‘s Fraxus week day 2: Enemies to friends to lovers! a fantastic trope! Royal au babes
If there's anything Laxus Dreyar, captain of the royal guard and the king's personal bodyguard, could confidently say about the king's temporary replace, it's that the young prince is a definite pain in the ass. He's awfully stubborn, butting heads with nearly every official he encounters, yammering about something or other he can't find peace with. There's always something to complain about with the young man.
Even worse, the man is vain. Vanity is a trait that Laxus has never appreciated in other people, but has to admit that it's sometimes somewhat of a point he himself could work on. The difference however between Laxus and prince Freed is the fact that Laxus likes to take care of his appearance outside of his work, while the prince has taken to prancing around in clothes that look like they were made for him, bejeweled as though he's trying to pass for a christmas tree. It's working, certainly with that particular hair of his.
Rest of the fic under the cut!
To add the cherry on top, Laxus has never seen the man fight and to be honest, he doesn't have high hopes for him. The man's muscular, sure, but Laxus suspects it's merely for aesthetics. Just like everything else the man has to offer. So essentially, Laxus has to protect a tantrum-throwing toddler with fancy clothes, which is just great.
Unable to keep these thoughts to himself, he relays them to Bickslow, a fellow guard, during one of their rare moments of synchronized free time. The man patiently listens to his gripes and after his rant has ended, only answers with a thoughtful hum and an uncomfortably long, sustained slurp of his beer.
"You're right, he's a bit of a stubborn bastard, ain't he? But do tell me about the missions he's assigned your border troops." With a roll of his eyes, Laxus sighs. "His approach is terrible, the amount of wounded soldiers has drastically gone up ever since he has taken over." With a grin, Bickslow shakes his head. "You should be fired", he jokes, but there's an undercurrent of seriousness in his voice. "I'm not going to deny the fact that there are more wounded soldiers, but have you looked at our death toll? And the death toll on the other side? Both of those have sunken into a deep, deep low. I would watch our future king, the man's something alright."
Bickslow's right and Laxus thinks he should indeed be fired. Overlooking the big picture like that isn't something he can afford to do in his line of work. He vows to pay better attention to what's happening from now on.
The first opportunity he gets to do this, is a visit from the king of the neighbouring country. The whole palace is vibrating with barely hidden nervousity and this jittery feeling only comes to a summit when the young prince summons the whole staff in the courtyard in shifts. As his personal body guard, Laxus witnesses each of the shifts and also the different ways Freed speaks to his staff. The man's aware of what's going on in his castle, Laxus realises, and he knows which words to say to every group. The nervous energy dissipates and when escorting the man back inside, Laxus really notices for the first time how the palace has changed.
There's not a speck of dust to be seen and the rigid formality he had previously hated, brings an unspoken air of sophistication to it. As soon as the prince is out of sight, the formality drops, but there seems to be no resentment towards Freed when they have to keep it up. By watching Freed formally interact with his staff, it's clear why they harbour no resentment. His words are gentle, but firm and it's obvious that the tasks he gives his staff makes them proud. The prince and his kin formality have given the staff a sense of pride.
Upon seeing prince Freed interact with the neighbouring king, Laxus comes to the conclusion that even Freed's vanity has purpose. The impeccable clothes, combined with his elegant posture and calm exterior, make him an imposing figure, even at his very young age. Unlike with his staff, Freed doesn't seem to have friendliness to share with the other royal, only politeness. It's strategic, Laxus thinks, for kindness would've made him look weak in front of the other of higher status and now, prince Freed looks like he's been nothing but a king his whole life long. It's respectable.
Eventually, the picture of a perfect king to be shatters, although luckily for Freed it's not in front of his whole court. It's during a little moment, where there's no one else but him and Laxus. The prince had asked for a glass of water, Laxus had reached over and given it to him. For some reason, Laxus suspects fatigue, the glass had slipped from the young prince's fingers and suddenly there were tears. Quickly enough, Freed had wiped them away and gotten on his knees to clean up the mess of glass with his bare, quivering fingers, which of course had gotten him a cut.
"Sorry, I'm making a mess of things, aren't I?" the prince had said with a fake smile that quickly fell apart. "Ah fuck", he had continued with a whisper, "Please excuse me", he said, frantically wiping at silent tears that kept coming. 'Ah fuck', Laxus also thought, but because he was raised to be a polite (he wasn't), he didn't say it out loud.
That led to the current situation, where Laxus plants his hand on the prince's hair and pats him somewhat roughly on the head. "There, there", he awkwardly sushes like he's done many times (with varying degrees of succes, fuck you Gajeel) with his adopted siblings. Shocked by the absurdity of it all, the prince bursts into a fit of uncontrollable laughter. Every now and then it seems like his laughter'll die down, but then he sees Laxus' face, which starts the cycle all over again. "Stop that, stupid." With a shove, Laxus rolls his eyes at the prince, something akin to affection seeping into his voice.
Behind closed doors, they become friends and Laxus can comfortably call the prince an idiot to his face. Frequently, they are joined by Bickslow and Evergreen, two guards who have also gained the privilege of calling the prince a dumbass. Although those two are Freed's closest friends, Laxus can't deny that he and the prince also share a certain type of intimacy, one that feels just a tad different than the one he shares with his other friends.
That intimacy loaded with a tension that doesn't feel uncomfortable, mainly outs itself in moments when it's just the two of them. Like now, where Laxus has the nightshift to guard Freed and the man lets him stay, lets him watch as he undresses himself. Coyly, the prince gives him a smirk. "Want to help?" he says with a voice none too innocent and Laxus laughs him off. "You don't pay me enough for that, dumbass prince", he says. That and the bags under Freed's eyes are too damn dark for him to be anything but get a good night's rest right now. So after Freed's gotten out of his clothes, Laxus tucks him into bed with gestures that are perhaps a bit too soft, a bit too familiar and gentle.
"I'm not a doll you know", Freed complains and Laxus shuts him up by patting his head. Although Freed grunts and grumbles everytime, Laxus isn't blind to the way his body relaxes at the simple touch. "I know, but you aren't invincible either. Goodnight, I'll be here if you need me."
'I'll be there if you need me', was a nice sentiment, but it's a shame that Laxus can't keep that promise. Although it wasn't necessarily his fault that he failed at that, it still feels like it. Looking at Freed, sweating feverishly from taking a poisened arrow to the chest after pulling Laxus out of it's path, he can't hide his guilt anywhere.
"Hey dumbass prince", he whispers, "It's my job to protect you. You pay me enough to do that, so let me." A weak laugh garners his attention. "But I was considering dropping your pay, you sure you still want to work for me?" Freed jokes between wheezes and coughs. Rolling his eyes, Laxus pushes the prince back as the man tries to sit up. "You stay there, dumbass prince. Dumbass is a part of your title now, by the way. Evergreen and Bickslow voted for, so it is rule now."
"Guess it is", Freed smiles. "Can I add 'handsome' to that? I think it fits", he smirks and Laxus sighs. "That's because you're a pompous dick", he flatly answers and Freed's smirk only gets bigger. "You didn't deny it though."
"As your personal bodyguard, I do what's best for you and in your current physical and mental state, I think breaking illusions would bring you more damage than good." He gets a light, playful jab in return for that and Laxus retaliates with a kiss to the prince's sweaty forehead. "Ew", he says before planting another one on his nose. "Go to sleep dumbass handsome prince, you need it. I'll be there if you need me."
"Of course you will be", the prince answers confidently and gives him a kiss on the hand, promptly erasing Laxus' doubts. "I trust you", he yawns, before drifting off too sleep and Laxus'll do everything in his power to not betray that trust.
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thewriterfriends · 3 years
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BALLS, CERTAINLY NOT AT ANY COST
SardarSohan Singh and his family had shifted to Chandigarh. Suddenly, I had lost two close friends. Loss of company of Goga hurt me because suddenly my daredevilry and my pranks had come to a standstill because one needs a partner in such escapades. Anyone who has read the adventure blog will vouch for it. We didn’t need to read the books to plan our adventures but there’s no fun in them unless you have a partner if not many. Since Pali was elder to us and as I have said that he was different, he wasn’t our partner but his resourcefulness was important to our plans. He never questioned us why we needed what we asked him to get because he understood that the children have their needs and intrinsically they don’t like to discuss their projects or divulge the details to others who are not a party to their plans. That is because it entails a risk of a secret becoming an ‘open secret’ and parents have sharp ears and prying eyes. In addition to that, there are spies in the shapes of innocuous-looking young kids who you think have no interest in your games. Maybe, they are not interested in your games but they are the spies- real ears and the eyes of the parents. And if you think that you can buy their silence or their favour by bribing them with marbles, rare empties of cigarette packs, or even priceless pictures of the cricketers, then you are badly mistaken because they are the future voters and they are as shrewd as they come. They will take the bribe and still do what they set their mind upon. Though they also have many uses, like they can be ordered to do your bidding. They can be scolded for being sloppy and they serve as the best assistants when you need extra hands for executing an important task that requires extra hands. But they cannot be sent as emissaries to other peoples’ homes. Parents are as wary of it as they were when we were growing up although the world that we grew up in wasn’t as depraved as it is now. Still, it wasn’t as virtuous either, but then there were demons even the times of Lord Rama and Krishna too. Parents didn’t like their children to go to the homes of the people not know to them and going to the homes of the strangers or talking to them was prohibited.
I wasn’t gifted like Pali in devising methods for acquiring balls nor was I as daring, but after his family left Shimla the tough task of arranging the balls fell upon me because I was the Captain of the Mohalla team and as they say, the show must go on, the game couldn’t be given up. We thought of pooling our pocket money but “Takkas” that we got as daily allowance didn’t add up to much even if the contributions were continued for months. I decided to ask the team members to get donations from their parents like the school authorities would ask us to get from them whenever floods or famine, hit some part of the country.
We knew how they grumbled, winced, and protested but they paid. So, I lectured to my teammates,
“Parents are habituated to throwing tantrums. ”Abusing, cursing, scolding and saying ‘No’ at the outset is essential to good parenting I said, but obstinacy on part of the children, their persistent, steadfastness, whining often pays. I said, “If necessary, you can shed some crocodile tears too. “Try whatever you may have to do, but by next Sunday, if you want to continue to be the part of this team whose popularity is on the rise, you must get a contribution of five rupees each.” “This is the minimum that you should accept from them and because they tend to bargain, start by asking a higher amount, so that it may appear to them that you are grumblingly agreeing for five, but don’t agree for anything less than this.”
“We will start by buying a new ball and then add on other important gear like pads and guard etc.” I said, “The reputation of the team depends on how well it is equipped and the word spreads like wildfire.” “The team that has started getting requests for being played against from as far off places as Lower Kaithu is knocking at the doors of the state-level authorities for recognition and I am sure that some of you budding players will get included in the Ranji Trophy team of Shimla whenever our glorious town gets a chance for having its team and is asked for sending a team for inter-state matches.”
I saw the smiles spreading on all the young faces looking up at me. Their eyes were shining with hope but when my eyes fell on their Hawaichappals and tattered shoes, my own hope fell. However, my confidence in our ability to reach the pinnacle of glory in that quaint Himalayan town soared as if propelled by my own words in our praise. Our team comprised of the boys from the middle class and the poor strata of the society but they were inducted purely on merit. Even Khushal Chand the son of Jiya Lal, who cleaned our toilets was a proud member of our team. I didn’t hear from the teammates about how their struggle for getting five rupees, a formidable sum in those days, was going with their parents as I had my own battle to fight, until Sunil confronted me one day. Sunil was my classmate. He is a member of this group and sometimes reads my posts and may read this too. I don’t know if he remembers it or not. His younger brother, Kapil was one of my teammates. (I heard from him some time ago passed away two years ago.)
“ Haanbhaibahutdehshatfailarakhihai tune.” Yes buddy, you have spread quite a scare, he said. I got his point and smiled. His brother must have been pestering the parents for money as the effect of my speech seemed to have affected him severely. I said, “The contributions are voluntary, not compulsory”, but I realized that making the team a star team of Shimla will be difficult, although it was a “star-studded” team, unfortunately, it was cash-strapped.
I hadn’t got any coaching in the game, but I was good at it or so I thought. Illusion about my own ability has been my driving force. Our neighbour Mr. Raj played for the A.G. office. Their team had a good reputation in the town. They played matches with other local teams on Sundays. I got a chance of playing as one of their team as he used to take me along wherever they played. I played against some teams at Annandale Ground and at BCS when we played against them. I was a young lad of 14-15 years of age and was increasingly becoming aware of the hormonal changes taking place inside me. One Mr. K- of A.G. office team told me that he had some old balls with him at home and he would be happy to give me those. Mr. Raj might have spoken to him about our constant need for the balls. I was delighted at his graciousness and agreed to visit his apartment for collecting those on the following Sunday.
I hard learned about some people being gay but the world still looked pretty safe to the children growing up in the last century. I shouldn’t be saying this with this degree of certitude because a thought of another incident that occurred a few years before this with me has come to mind. I will tell you about that some other time, but being gay is one thing and stalking and trapping the children for realizing one’s perversions is quite another thing. I didn’t know that there were wolves in sheep’s clothing. I reached his apartment at Lower Kaithu in the afternoon.  It was a summer day and he opened the door in response to my knock after getting up from the bed, where perhaps he was taking the afternoon siesta.
The room was small and it was brilliantly warmed up by the sun as the side of the room facing the west had glass panes all over. After opening the door he went and sat on the bed again. As there were no chairs in the room, at least none in my sight, he asked me to sit on the bed. I don’t know if he had any chairs or they had been removed by him. He sat himself in the semi-reclining position with one arm resting on the knee of the leg drawn up while the other leg lay flat on the bed. What struck odd to me was that he was in his undergarments and he hadn’t chosen to put on Pajamas or pants after I entered the room. Though I was a young boy in my early teens, I had learnt enough about human anatomy through analogies drawn with the animals in the General Science books and nature had taught me some through raging testosterones in my testicles. This was fortified with a lot of other data collected in my head through the exchange of information with peers and friends. His sitting in the bed without even a Lungi certainly appeared as indecent behaviour to me.
He asked me if I had a girlfriend and whether I had done anything with her. That was a grey area. My knowledge was limited to hearsays and I could neither brag nor lie. I shook my head. I wasn’t sure about what and how to do, because I knew it wasn’t as simple as was made out to be in the General Science book with a male frog riding on top of the female and pressing her body. The details were sketchy and the scope of enlightenment was lost to us on the day it was being taught in the school by Mr. Hastir, because of the mischief played by Surinder on Upinder at the wrong time. But neither through the book and nor from the peers and friends had I learnt about the male wanting to do it with a male. I had the knowledge of a common cuss word “G&^*u” that we used liberally in the language spoken among the friends, but that was used for someone who was dimwit-stupid. It would be wrong on my part if I say that I was ignorant about it, but truthfully all I knew then was that this if done was more for the purpose of demonstrating brute force or instilling fear and drawing rather sadistic than carnal pleasures.
He put his hand around me and tried to draw me closer in an attempt to kiss me. I pushed him away. I was surprised to notice a stir in his underwear. A tiny drop had wet it too. I was not interested in any of this. Though there had been some attempts on me at some previous occasions, one of which I mentioned in my posts here, but to bargain my “Izzat” for getting some old cricket balls was a bit too much. I got up from the bed and moved towards the door. He realized that he had approached the wrong guy and so for making some amends, he broke into fake laughter and said, “ Bholetu, tebura mana laya” ( Bhole (Bhola Is my pet name)- you got offended). I didn’t answer. He got up and pulled out two old balls from the cupboard and gave them to me. I returned a fake smile, meaning that I will ignore all that happened between us and as a kind of payback for his goodwill gesture minus the largesse he wanted to give along with a set of those old used balls.
An interesting piece of text that I recently read in the book “Hilly Billy Elegy” about a sure test of finding if one was gay or not was told to the writer J.D. Vance by his grandmother when as a child he was overcome by a fear that he was perhaps gay because he had no girlfriend and his best friend was a boy and the..He say:-
I’ll never forget the time I convinced myself that I was gay. I was eight or nine, maybe younger, and I stumbled upon a broadcast by some fire-and-brimstone preacher. The man spoke about the evils of homosexuals, how they had infiltrated our society, and how they were all destined for hell absent some serious repenting. At the time, the only thing I knew about gay men was that they preferred men to women.
This described me perfectly: I disliked girls, and my best friend in the world was my buddy Bill. Oh no, I’m going to hell.   I broached this issue with Mamaw, confessing that I was gay and I was worried that I would burn in hell. She said, “Don’t be a fucking idiot, how would you know that you’re gay?” I explained my thought process. Mamaw chuckled and seemed to consider how she might explain to a boy my age. Finally she asked, “J.D., do you want to suck dicks?” I was flabbergasted. Why would someone want to do that? She repeated herself, and I said, “Of course not!” “Then,” she said, “you’re not gay. And even if you did want to suck dicks, that would be okay. God would still love you.” That settled the matter. Apparently, I didn’t have to worry about being gay anymore. Now that I’m older, I recognize the profundity of her sentiment: Gay people, though unfamiliar, threatened nothing about Mamaw’s being. There were more important things for a Christian to worry about.
In the 1960s the verb sucking could only be understood in the pretext of sucking the nipples as a part of foreplay while indulging in the act with the legally acquired wife and that too with the lights off. I think it was not expected of them and was neither offered as a bonus by the consenting wives in gratitude to the husbands they genuinely loved. I doubt if there were such husbands who fitted the bill and the wives who were willing to please them in bed. At least until I was an active part of the productive society, I never heard of any such things from people I knew, but to think that such camaraderie existed between willing male partners was normal or will become normal somewhere down the line was beyond the imagination of a straight kid who had been brought up in a conservative town tucked in the Himalayan hills.
As an Indian, it is impossible for me to think that such a conversation can take place between any members within the family and I can’t even imagine that any elder can be approached for alleviating such fears and of all the people a grandmother can speak such words to a child of nine years of age.  Maybe it can happen in American homes only. Now when the whole world is becoming sensitive to the needs of LGBTs, perhaps the parents can broach subjects with the children but back in the 1960s, I wonder how such people came to terms with their singularities.
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dansnaturepictures · 3 years
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09/04/2021-Speckled Wood and more at Lakeside and home (10 different photos in this post to those I tweeted tonight) 
I took the second picture in this photoset of one of a few nice and bright sky scenes and general scenes out the back today especially this morning. On my Lakeside lunch time walk I went in by the tarmac path along the properties and took the third picture in this photoset of some of the sweet looking white daffodils by the railway track at the Monks Brook Halt platform when I got into the country park. I enjoyed walking into the deep woods to the west of the site, deviating from the path through it a little and I loved seeing the bright yellow lesser celandine still going strong after a fair few weeks since I spotted my first of the year now and began seeing them here and elsewhere and adorning the forest floor of course. As I walked down around Concorde lake and through the middle of the lakes I was enthused to notice both the Canada and greylag geese nesting in the woods on the island. I had never actually seen where the geese species nest at Lakeside whilst their goslings are always such a key part of the strong Lakeside nesting festival of life each year so this was really interesting. I think some cutting of the trees on this island has allowed us a slight glimpse into where they nest. The Great Crested Grebes showed well on the lakes again as did the Tufted Ducks with brilliant views of them the females especially looking really beautiful in a special colour both on the water and on a bank of the island too. I also enjoyed as I tweeted a picture of on Dans_Pictures a Mute Swan the returning birds here of late quite close. 
My Mum had said on a walk with Missy to Lakeside before my lunch break today that she had seen a Speckled Wood butterfly one of the next butterflies I needed to see. I entered the southern fenced off area just going through on the way back as I wanted to use my macro lens which I had with me today to take pictures of some of the newer groups of snake’s-head fritillary flowers on the ground in this area I had noticed. When at the point I had seen my first Speckled Wood of the year walking through last spring, I spotted a butterfly the right size and colour for one and I was pretty sure it was this butterfly. I walked on hoping for a better look, when I heard the exciting cackle of the Green Woodpecker as I had done a lot at lunch time and it was an honour to then see this emerald delight dashing into the almost as bright green landscape. I heard a beautiful and loud Chiffchaff and saw Woodpigeons flying off too and as the the sun really started to come out from behind the clouds I saw another butterfly I believe a Peacock it was a red one I didn’t get the best look of it and I saw another one too. Then I was thrilled to see the Speckled Wood again, as it flew on and then slowed down even settling on the bright blossom which looked wonderful and I could beyond a shadow of a doubt tell that this was a Speckled Wood now as I made out its sweet brown markings. It flew up now and again and then came back to blossom, I loved enjoying and taking it in such a beautiful sight. I couldn’t quite get my macro lens out in time to take a macro picture but I got the first picture in this photoset as well as one other I tweeted of this butterfly with the other lens I had my big lens. I was delighted when looking down on the ground following this butterfly to notice yet more snake’s-head fritillaries first hidden in trees behind and then more I could see on the ground. This meadow is teeming with them, and its a picture of a perfect spring and a vibrant, rich and colourful piece of grassland and few wooded areas I can never tire of these. I took the fourth and sixth pictures in this photoset a view with the snake’s-head fritillary visible over the meadow and snake’s-head fritillaries and another brilliant flower around lately at Lakeside the cowslips and fifth picture of a view in the area that gave me some glorious spring moments. 
That’s now four of my year lists running that Speckled Wood was seen by me for the first time in a year either at Lakeside or on the green just outside, the last time I got Speckled Wood as a year tick at a place other than Lakeside was four years ago today in fact at Acres Down in the New Forest. There were more nice connections as I saw this one at the exact same bit of Lakeside I did for the first time last year and like last year its butterfly number seven of my year. I am only one butterfly behind how many I had seen last year and 2019 my two highest ever butterfly year lists which is promising in the early stages. I am five ahead of how many I saw in 2018 at this stage my now third highest ever butterfly year list a record for me at the time but admittedly that one did have a famously slow start thanks to the beast from the east. I was thrilled to see the Speckled Wood today. It came up in my last run of a butterfly a day tweets on Twitter this week I now have just two days left of them and including all 46 species of butterfly I’ve ever seen and photographed in them so its quite sad that an activity through lockdowns and times I needed the days to pass a bit, the original animal I focused on is coming to an end but I also reflect on the immense good it has done for me and being able to still feel happy. The spring ones in this run as last year a bit too definitely served to excite me for when I would hopefully actually see them and its not bad that I waited only two days after it was featured to see a Speckled Wood this year. The Speckled Wood a true highlight of my day and week.
When nearly back home at lunch time I took the seventh picture in this photoset of more great dandelions lately and some of the purple flowers that are commonplace on the green out the front. With it a brilliant bank holiday last Friday today I got the first chance since lockdown eased slightly, with it now also light late in evenings to do a second walk after work with me usually finishing work a bit earlier on a Friday. I did do that but not a Lakeside or camera one, instead a walk around the area outside around the block you might say a quick one. In the still evening air it was great to be serenaded a little by a babbling and gushing Blackbird and hear the beautiful screech of a Green Woodpecker again. As well as taking in as I had noticed earlier in the day and photographing as I tweeted a spider by the front door when I returned I also took the eighth picture in this photoset of daffodils in the front garden after the walk. I then went on this evening to take the final two pictures in this photoset of a moody lit Jackdaw on the roof out the back and a sky scene with just a little bit of red visible from the sunset. 
Wildlife Sightings Summary: My first Speckled Wood butterfly of the year, Peacock, bees its interesting how when trying to see the Speckled Wood a second time suddenly my eyes were so focused on everything little and flying so I enjoyed bees well I am having a great spring for them so far, two of my favourite birds the Green Woodpecker and Great Crested Grebe, Greylag Goose, Canada Goose, Coot, Moorhen, Mallard, Tufted Duck, Mute Swan, Lesser Black-backed Gull, Black-headed Gull, Jackdaw, Great Tit and Robin seen both singing very nicely together in the woods on one tree, great Goldfinch views at home again from my window, House Sparrow, Starling and I heard Blackbird. I also loved seeing some perwinkle beside the neighbour’s house on both my walks today. 
I have made no secret where I’ve felt it relevant before that I do have another Twitter to Dans_Pictures and another Tumblr to this one where I post about other interests of mine and general life both nationally, globally and personally and these are my profiles to focus on my birdwatching/butterflies/general wildlife watching and photography interest which I put most of my time into. There are sometimes things though that happen that are more about that general, but they are so big, important and all-encompassing that I want to give them a mention on my more focused to my main hobby and interest social media pages which has been common over the last year or so. Today I must say rest in peace Prince Philip, Duke of Edinburgh, what an extraordinary life he had. I send my deepest condolences to Her Majesty the Queen and the rest of the family. On the more topical side to these social media presences from me I celebrate the Duke of Edinburgh award and all its done for getting youngsters outdoors and active. And it was interesting to hear Sir David Attenborogh talk about someone he was clearly very close to bringing things topical for these social media pages of mine. I also want to say today, rest in peace DMX and my thoughts at this difficult time are with his family and friends.
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modiggs811 · 4 years
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Bernardeschi: Little by little we were losing our values. This is a wake-up call
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Federico Bernardeschi is sitting on his balcony in Turin. The sun is shining. “It’s 20 degrees,” he says. One of his bulldogs, Spike, barks in the background. The 26-year-old politely introduces us over our video call and gives the pooch a pat on the head. “He’s got a ball now. He’s happy.”
It’s a picture of normal life in abnormal circumstances. As of the weekend, there have been almost 200,000 cases of COVID-19 in Italy. Bernardeschi’s Juventus team-mates Daniele Rugani, Paulo Dybala and Blaise Matuidi all tested positive. But the country is turning a corner and after nearly two months of lockdown, the government has announced it will begin lifting some restrictions next week.
The crisis has left a profound impression on Bernardeschi, who remains in self-isolation but doesn’t live in a bubble. “Every morning at 8:30, I turn on the news. It’s the first thing I do,” the winger tells The Athletic. “Information is really important. You have to be aware of what’s going on around you and I always hold out hope there’ll be some good news when maybe yesterday, there wasn’t any. Gradually, we’re coming through the other side of it but we’re still in for the long haul.”
The Athletic is talking to Bernardeschi on April 25 — Liberation Day in Italy, commemorating the victory of the resistance at the end of World War II. Later in the afternoon, Italy’s president Sergio Mattarella cut a lonely but dignified figure walking down the steps of the Vittoriano monument in Rome in a protective mask after laying a wreath at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. At the same ceremony a year ago, he called the liberation Italy’s second Risorgimento (Resurgence) after the unification of the states into one country in 1861. Freedom from COVID-19 could yet be its third.
“I get goosebumps talking about the doctors and nurses, and everyone who is risking their lives to help their neighbour,” Bernardeschi, who has scored four goals in 24 appearances for the national team, says. “I have to say what our healthcare workers have done and continue to do is a miracle of humankind.”
Bernardeschi donated €50,000 to the Gradenigo hospital in Turin and raised another €80,000 through GoFundMe for eight sub-intensive care beds and other necessary equipment. Perplexingly, having a social conscience is something Bernardeschi and former Juventus midfielder Claudio Marchisio have been criticised for in some quarters. They have been called “buonista” — virtue-signalling, politically correct do-gooders — by an element of Juventus’s ultras, who seem to have a problem with them using their platforms to shine a light on a variety of different social issues, not to mention calling out anti-immigration rhetoric.
“When someone, as you say, calls me ‘buonista’, for me, it’s a compliment,” Bernardeschi insists. “The world today needs more humanity and less selfishness when it comes to all the choices and big decisions we make at government and political level. Right now, we should be thinking about the families going through hard times rather than just looking at our own backyard. I hope this situation makes us understand that.”
The economic repercussions of the pandemic are placing ordinary households under tremendous stress and strain. Some are struggling to put food on the table and the footage from supermarkets of customers breaking down in tears, unable to pay for groceries, moved Bernardeschi. “I was watching a video on my phone with my partner (Veronica) and we both said to each other, ‘Damn, this is a major emergency’. We saw people who were unable do their shopping because they’d run out of money.”
It made Bernardeschi think of Caffe Sospeso, an time-old Neapolitan tradition of paying not for one coffee but two, so someone less fortunate than you can get one on the house. He wondered if the same might be possible in supermarkets — a Spesa Sospeso — whereby customers could make a donation of between €2 and €5 to cover the cost of essential groceries such as pasta, rice, milk and bread for those in need. Carrefour agreed to partner with him, as did Banco Alimentare, a charity that redistributes unsold food to the homeless. They’ll be delivering the Spesa Sospeso to the most vulnerable.
“I know what it means to see your parents struggling because it’s the end of the month and there’s no money left,” says Bernardeschi. “And all the while, they’re still doing everything to help you realise your ambitions and make your dreams come true.”
Bernardeschi became a father in August and one silver lining of lockdown is the time he has got to spend with his daughter, Deva. “I get up, get ready and make breakfast. I pick my baby girl up and get her to help me. I show her everything I’m doing. I’m with her for about an hour and then I do my first training session of the day. I shower, have some lunch and then, from one till six, I’m with her all afternoon. We play and then I put her down for a nap and watch some TV, like La Casa de Papel (Money Heist on Netflix). I started (basketball documentary) The Last Dance.”
Bernardeschi reaches for the guitar, too. “More than playing it, I’d call it plucking at it. I strum. I’m a big AC/DC fan. Back In Black is on the playlist when we run out at the Allianz Stadium. I like the Red Hot Chili Peppers, Nirvana…” Bernardeschi’s desire to nail Pink Floyd’s Wish You Were Here on guitar — the Italy international’s favourite song — was probably a bit too ambitious. “I need a teacher,” he says.
Art fascinates him. His former Fiorentina team-mate Manuel Pasqual is a collector and shares former England manager Fabio Capello’s love of Lucio Fontana’s slashed canvases. “Berna” is more a street art kind of guy, though. “Banksy’s a genius,” he says. “Usually, artists only make it big after they die but Banksy’s managed to do it while he’s still alive. He’s famous and yet no one knows who he is. It’s madness. The man’s a genius in art and in marketing.”
At six o’clock, Bernardeschi trains again. Revised government guidelines indicate teams will only return to practice on May 18 and even then, it’s unclear whether group sessions and ball-work will be permitted. For now, the commute to Juventus’ Continassa facility will have to wait. “After the session, we have some dinner together, I put my daughter to bed and we put a film on. We go to bed destroyed. My daughter destroys us,” Bernardeschi laughs. “We’re in bed by 10. Then the morning comes and it starts all over again.”
As Italy’s sports papers speculate about his future with Juventus, Bernardeschi thinks about his daughter’s. Fatherhood has given him a renewed sense of purpose and perspective. “I work today for the world she’ll live in tomorrow. That’s how I think about it,” he says. “Doing something positive for her and every generation that comes after us.”
The pause caused by the pandemic presents a chance to rethink how we behave as a society and what we prioritise. It could serve as a teachable moment. “Little by little, we were losing our values,” Bernardeschi says. “For a long time now, we haven’t respected the environment, we haven’t respected ourselves, we haven’t respected our neighbours. We’ve been selfish. I think this situation will make us reflect on what the world could be like in the future. It’s a wake-up call for everyone. We’re guests on this planet. We have to ensure everything that surrounds us is in harmony with nature.”
Bernardeschi hopes the solidarity and compassion of the last couple of months lasts long after the pandemic is over.
“It was really emotional seeing all of Italy on their balconies at six o’clock singing the national anthem,” he says. “It means we are united as a country, that we’re a beautiful country. I hope that, as soon as this is all over, we can go back to the piazze (squares) and celebrate, sing, shout and rejoice at having got through it all.”
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illegalcerebral · 4 years
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Everybody Got This Broken Feeling - Part One
A/N: This is a sequel to Kiss Me Hard Before You Go, an AO3 only Spencer/OC fic featuring my character Grace Owens. You don’t have to have read KMHBYG but it might make more sense if you do.This is also a @cmbingo entry, filling my abuse square. CW for descriptions of child abuse.
Series Masterlist // CM Bingo 2020 // Main Masterlist
“You’re back!” Spencer was hardly through the door when Penelope tackled him into a bone-crunching hug, “We missed you so much. Did you have fun? How’s Grace? Is it weird being married?”
“He’s away longer when he’s on sabbatical,” laughed Luke, hovering behind, “but seriously man, congratulations.”
“Thanks,” Spencer beamed, “Yes we had a great time, Edinburgh is beautiful. We went to museums, the castle and the festival was on so we saw a few shows. Grace lived there for a few months as a kid so she was really happy to go back. Being married is awesome,” he added with an ear-to-ear grin.
“Please tell me you didn’t spend your entire honeymoon dragging your beautiful wife round museums. Tell me there were at least some sexy times!”
Spencer and Luke’s “Penelope!” was simultaneous but with vastly different tones. By now they were in the bullpen and JJ and Tara halted their conversation to listen in.
“What? That’s what a honeymoon is for!”
“Grace picked Isaac up from our house this weekend positively glowing so I think everything’s fine on that front,” JJ said with a wink. Spencer made an odd spluttering sound and attempted to hide his face.
“I was going to give you guys your souvenirs but maybe I won’t bother.”
“Aww come on,” said Tara, “That’s not fair on those of us who have appropriate boundaries.”
“For you,” Spencer presented her with a bottle from the Edinburgh gin distillery. For Matt there were thick tartan blankets plus some matching scarves for the Simmons children. Luke got a tartan coat for Roxie and a couple tins of shortbread. JJ and family got t-shirts from teams in the Scottish Premiership and to Penelope he presented a beautiful brooch set in the shape of the Scottish crown jewels.
“I take back everything I said, “ she breathed, “You’re perfect. I love you. Tell Grace I love her too.”
“Look who’s back!” Rossi pulled Spencer into a bear hug upon arriving with Emily.
“And I brought gifts!” Spencer handed over a bottle of whiskey for Rossi and a thick shawl in soft wool for Emily.
“Looks like someone had a good time,” said Emily with a smile, “but I’m afraid you’re going to have to hit the ground running. We have a case.” The mood deflated instantly. Inwardly, Spencer groaned. He and Grace had only been back two days and the thought of working long hours so soon was unappealing. At least it was local. Once upon a time he would have looked forward to a case outside of DC, now he almost dreaded them.
“This one is a strange one. It was passed to us internally from the crimes against children unit. They’ve been conducting and operation for the past three years in conjunction with cybercrimes. Garcia?”
“Ugh I hate this part! Our esteemed colleagues have been tracking a group that operate primarily on the dark web. They started by trading images and video and have evolved to trafficking children both across the country and internationally. Every time the FBI cracks their passwords and codes they are able to dismantle everything and move on with better security in a matter of hours.”
“They’re organised and tech savvy,” said Rossi, “why are we being called in?”
“Last month the task force made a break through. They’d been attempting to make contact and have some of their analysts go undercover to pose as members and finally one of them gained enough trust to see some of the inner workings of the group, “ explained Emily. “The servers are maintained her in DC.”
“That’s risky,” frowned JJ, “There are places with far more lax security laws that would be a better place to have as a base.”
“Our operative thinks that the people in charge are close. Like IRL close,” Garcia said.
“They want us to compile a geo-profile and see if we can track down where in DC these guys are,” said Emily, “Garcia is our expert here so we’ll follow her lead.”
“I’m the boss?”
“Not what I said, but you do know how these people operate.”
“Okay guys, you are going to want to brace yourself. This stuff is nasty.”
Nasty was an understatement of epic proportions. Penelope took them through the site’s contents and it was stomach churning. Slowly they pieced together some information on the site owners but after hours or looking through the worst content imaginable everyone agreed they had to take a break or risk going mad. On his way outside, Spencer passed Luke and Penelope sitting in the hall, heads together, Luke clasping Penelope’s hands and brushing his thumb across her knuckles. It sent a pang through Spencer that didn’t subside until he hit the call button outside the office.
“Is the part where you tell me you’re being called away on a case and I spend the next week pining?” Grace asked.
“It’s local,” Spencer’s voice was thick, the hint of a tremor breaking through, “But uh…it’s bad. It’s really bad.”
“Suiker, I’m so sorry.” Spencer leaned against the side of the building; the cold stone grounding him a little but what he really wanted was for Grace to be there in person.
“It may run late tonight. Can you do me a favour and hug Isaac really tight. Tell him I’m sorry.”
“One of those cases?”
“Yeah,” Spencer’s eyes were stinging now. “You know years ago we worked a case in Canada, did I tell you about that? I remember asking Hotch if he ever got the feeling that a case wasn’t going to end well.”
“What did he say?” Grace asked.
“He never answered, just told me to keep working. Once the case was over I always meant to ask him again but I guess I was too scared.”
“It’s a always a long road with these cases,” said Grace, “but you’ve just started. Your team is the best at this.”
“These people have already hurt so many though…” Spencer rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand. Even if this wasn’t a seemingly impossible task, the amount of victims there had already been was overwhelming. All those children being passed around not to mention all the ones in those pictures and videos made nausea well up inside Spencer.
“I’m probably being ridiculous but…I think I’m going to ask Dr Terrence if I can book an extra session.”
“Just for you?” Spencer heard Grace shift, like she was moving the phone to the other ear. “That’s good. Trying to get ahead of something means you’re already partly equipped to deal with it.” The nausea had gone now, taking some of the tension in Spencer’s shoulders with it.
“I love you, you know that?” he smiled.
“I was getting that impression yes,” Grace chuckled, “I love you too suiker.”
“Spence?” JJ stuck her head through the door, waving at him, “We may have something.”
Back at the round table Garcia had managed to partially crack the forum’s metadata to see some kind of payment system. No names, just some overseas accounts but with a little bit of less than legal computer magic Garcia had managed to track a transfer of $20,000 into one of the accounts.
“What can $20k get you on one of these sites?” Luke asked quietly. Garcia shot him a look that told him he didn’t want to know.
“Okay our scumbag’s name is Timothy Blake. He’s 47, twice divorced and lives in Downtown DC. He works from home as a freelance software developer and he has priors for public indecency and was charged with aggravated assault but those were later dropped.” Garcia pulled up the photo of a waxy looking guy with dark eyes.
“Spencer and Luke pay this guy a visit,” said Emily, “Garcia can you work on tracking some of these other accounts?”
“Is the Pope a Catholic?”
“The rest of us will take those as and when you find the names.”
*
“You okay?” Luke asked as they pulled up outside Timothy Blake’s apartment.
“I will be when this is over,” sighed Spencer. He glanced up at the window. There was an almost imperceptible twitch at the curtains. “I think we’ve been spotted.”
“We shouldn’t disappoint Timothy,” scoffed Luke as they headed into the building. They could hear shouts above them as they headed up the stairwell, a woman from the sounds of it, and the pair of them tore up the stairs.
“He headed down the fire escape,” a young woman yelled.
“I got him,” Luke headed out the door, Blake shuffling down the staircase outside.
“There was crying!” the young woman grabbed Spencer’s arm before he could follow.
“What?”
“We heard crying an hour or so ago. He doesn’t have kids but-“
Without another word Spencer ran to Blake’s front door and rammed into it as hard as a he could. The cheap wood splintered as it swung open and warm, stale air hit Spencer, making him gag. A scuffle behind made him glance back. Luke was dragging Blake back into the corridor.
“This is police brutality!”
“Neighbour heard a child cry,” Spencer said, ignoring him. Blake’s face went white as a sheet.
“She’s a lying bitch!”
“We’ve made dozens of complaints about him,” the woman argued, “he’s always hanging around the kids. I saw him take pictures of my son and his friends playing soccer outside. Mrs Bryant upstairs is sure he’s been peeping too.”
“Ma’am can you head back into your apartment? We’ll need to interview you later,” said Luke, “You. In.” He shoved Blake forwards. The place was bare aside from a battered couch, grubby kitchen area, and a desk stacked with computers and doors to what Spencer assumed was the bedroom and bathroom.
“See, nothing here,” Blake said but his voice shook. He was also sweating profusely, his eyes darting from side to side like a trapped animal.
“What about your computer?” Luke asked, shoving Blake down onto the couch. Still Blake kept scanning the room.
“You don’t have a warrant,” Blake snarled.
“Not yet,” said Spencer, “Why did you transfer $20,000 to an offshore account that was then used in a transaction on a dark net site that specialises in the exploitation of children?”
“I- how did you-“
“And what are you looking for?” Spencer asked. He was amazed how level his voice was. “You keep looking towards that door.”
“This is my home you can’t just-“
“We can if we have probable cause,” Spencer headed towards the door. Inside was a dingy bathroom that smelt like stale water. It was silent except for the slow drip of the tap at the sink. Spencer was about turn back when something twitched behind the shower curtain. With one hand on his gun he grabbed the curtain and pushed it open.
Two dark eyes under a matted mop of dirty blonde hair scowled up at him.
“Luke, call an ambulance and child services!”
Blake began to sob as Spencer leaned over the side of the bath. It was hard to tell how old the little girl was. She looked malnourished and her face, was obscured by the rag wrapped around her mouth. Her hands were tied in front of her.
“Hey,” Spencer dropped his voice as he pulled out his badge. “I’m not going to hurt you. My friend and I are here to help you.” Her eyes flicked blankly from the badge to Spencer face. Gingerly, he reached forward and she shuffled backwards, the fearsome scowl returning.
“I just want to take these off,” he pointed to his mouth and then tapped his wrist, “then we’re going to take you somewhere where no one’s going to hurt you.” He didn’t even want to begin guessing what else this girl had gone through at this point. There was a thick scar on the back of her hand, peeking out from the too-long sleeve of the pyjamas she wore. When Spencer reached forward again she didn’t flinch but she also didn’t move forwards or offer up her hands. It was easy to slip the bonds off of her wrist but she just held her hands in her lap as Spencer undid the gag.
“There we go, is that better? Can you tell me your-“ In lightning fast movement, before Spencer could pull his hand back, the little girl had sunk her teeth into him. The glare had intensified and her little hands were balled into fists. It wasn’t actually that painful but the girl looked like she had no intention of letting go so Spencer was just sort of stuck for a moment.
It was a defensive mechanism, he knew and something cracked inside him at how quick, and with such little hesitation she had defended herself.
“Okay. You must be pretty scared huh? And angry? If I could get my hand back then I can get you out of here. I promise I’m not going to hurt you.” His heart was thundering and he watched her closely. She was studying him, trying to work out if she could trust him. For a moment the two of them just sat there, Spencer’s hand still firmly clamped between her teeth until slowly she released him. Her face remained fixed in a scowl though.
“Thank you,” Spencer rubbed his hand. “I’m Spencer. My friend out there is Luke. What’s your name?”
Nothing.
Spencer sighed inwardly. Hopefully Garcia would be able to find out who she was. If she was lucky there was a worried mother and father out there searching for her.
“You want to get out of the bath?”
The girl screwed up her face and shook her head, arms folded across her chest.
“Okay but there’s going to be an ambulance here in a sec. They want to make sure you aren’t hurt.”
This time she shook her head even more fiercely.
That was going to be problem.
“Reid they’re here!” Luke called and at the sound of multiple people storming their way into the apartment the little girl huddled down even further.
“No, no it’s okay. These are my friends. We’re all here to help you.” The girl made a small noise like a snort and she drew her knees up under her chin. Spencer bit his lip. He would need to change tactics if he wanted to get her out of here. She was obviously small enough that he or one of the paramedics could just pick her up and carry her out but he didn’t want to risk getting bitten again or losing her trust permanently.
“Spence?” Emily hovered in the doorway, eyes wide when she saw the girl in the bath.
“I got this,” he whispered despite his complete lack of confidence that was the case. The girl craned her neck to peer at Emily before settling back again, brow furrowed.
“See this?” Spencer fished a quarter out of his pocket, “this is a magic quarter. It keeps you safe. You don’t believe me?” The girl shook her head. “Watch this.” Spencer clasped the coin in his fist and then blew; upon opening up his hand it was gone. There was the slightest twitch of interest from the girl. Curling up his other hand he repeated the action and this time on opening it the quarter was lying in his palm. Spencer repeated the trick a few more times, making the coin jump between his hands and then into his pocket or behind his ear. “See, magic!” He rubbed the coin between his palms and then opened them up, the coin having vanished. Then, very slowly, he leaned forward. The girl shuffled a little but didn’t flinch as Spencer reached behind her and plucked the coin from thin air. Her eyes went wide as she watched Spencer pull back.
“I think it likes you,” he laughed and held open his hand. Her hand came up hesitantly and she eyed Spencer warily. “Go ahead, it’s yours.” She took the coin, turning it round and inspecting it. “You know if you hold it really tight it will protect you. Maybe you could use it to get out of the bath?”
The girl glanced back at the commotion coming from the living room.
“Guys, we need to clear the room,” Spencer heard Emily say.
As the voices became quieter the girl looked back at Spencer. Please trust me, he willed silently. The girl passed the coin back and forth between her hands, squinting at it.  Then, she clambered awkwardly to her feet, gripping the side of the bath to steady herself. Spencer held out his hand, half anticipating another bite, but the girl shook her head and scrambled out, almost landing on the floor with a thud but managing to stop herself. She was determined; Spencer realised and hot on the heels of that heart breaking thought came another. It was entirely possible this child had never had anyone to help her.  When she stared up at Spencer though, he caught a flash of something else in her eyes. Worry perhaps, or apprehension.
“You got that quarter?” Spencer asked softly and got a little nod in return, “okay, let’s get you out of here.”
@crimeshowtrash  @frickin-bats @reiding-and-writing @brooke0297@arizonalovesher  @siriuslyimmoony@dontshootmespence  @stunudo @tippy06  @remember-me-forever-silent-angel @lookwhatyoumademequeue​  @icecream-studiess @buttercreamstorys @ssaunitchief @thorne93@literallyprentissstwin @fbissaderekmorgan@tenaciousarcadeexpert @heycasbutt @avocadean @dreatine @cynbx
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