ondenasce-emora-todoamor

[peachlit]

work was a disaster. i haven’t ran in years but i was sprinting all morning 🥲

[ohheyitsokay]

to date a single father (1/2)

Pairing: Francisco Morales (Frankie) x (f) reader 

Warnings: mentions of trauma, drugs, and violence. a little angst? mostly fluff

Wordcount: 2.8k (I haven’t even gotten to the scene that inspired this thought process, guys...)

Part 2/2!

Summary: Frankie has a little girl in kindergarten and you’re the prettiest school teacher he’s ever seen. Being a single dad makes navigating relationships hard, that’s all.

Notes: I don’t really want kids but his baby is a part of his character so I thought it would be interesting to explore. I didn’t know how to put this in the warnings but obviously this topic can be a loaded one for some people, please be kind to yourself. 

>>

You first met Frankie outside the elementary school where you worked. You taught older kids, and they got let out a few minutes earlier to get their little siblings and to spread out traffic.

Most parents were in their minivan’s, on their phones, honking, or chatting through open windows. The sun was shining, sinking into your skin, and the kids were trickling out of the school.

He caught your eye, because he was standing nearby, hovering nervously, looking a touch lost. And maybe in small part because his hair was curling out from under his hat in soft tufts and his eyes were warm and bright.

“Can I help you, sir?” You asked cautiously, eyes still dutifully scanning the pick up area, making sure the students were safe.

He looked startled, then sheepish.

“My daughter’s in kindergarten,” he said, taking off his baseball cap to rake his hair to the side before replacing it. “It’s her first day.”

Ah. That explains his mother hen mannerisms.

“She'll be out in just a moment,” you said smiling at him. You explained the staggered release and noted how the crease between his brows smoothed a little bit.

You got to see parents with their kids often, and you were no stranger to the occasional handsome dad, but when his little girl came running towards him, nothing could have prepared you. His face lit up and she jumped straight into his arms yelling happily. As he spun her around for some wild reason your heart threatened to hammer right out of your chest.

He put her down and she chattered about her first day. As they walked away, he waved at you, and you smiled weakly before tearing your eyes away.

The kindergarten teacher appeared at your side. Her arm casually shot out, causing a running kid to almost crash into it, but effectively stopping him from sprinting somewhere more dangerous. She gave him a look before turning to grin at you.

“What?” you asked, trying to play off your odd behavior the best you could. You definitely weren’t staring at the most handsome dad you’d ever seen being adorable with his daughter. And by no means had you been neglecting your supervising duties to do so. She raised an eyebrow and against your will, your face was flushed.

“I’ve never seen you like this!” she said gleefully, laughing at you.

“There’s nothing to see!” you flapped your hand at her, knowing you were lying through your teeth.

“Isn’t there?” she knew you a little better than would be best in this circumstance. “Hon, I’ve worked with you five years and I haven’t seen a single person - real or from your stories – make you so flustered.”

You shook your head and started to walk back towards the school, calling behind you, “I wasn’t!”

“Would it help to know he’s single?” she chirped after you.

And you hated yourself because you stopped dead, heart pounding, before you walked away just about as quickly as you could.

That night, Frankie hated himself a little bit too, because he couldn’t get the pretty school teacher out of his head.

-

Over the first few weeks of the fall semester, this because normal for the two of you. Frankie kept coming early, and so when your let your class out, you would go stand and talk to him, both falling in love a little bit, and you would then get teased mercilessly by the other teachers. He would go home and day dream about seeing you outside of school, holding your hand, meeting your eyes and not having to look away.

He told the boys about you and accepted their bad advice and excited teasing with stride. You also gave up trying to deny it from your closest friends and they had the best time playing matchmaker for you, even if it was horribly embarrassing.

Every couple of days, your friend would keep his daughter inside extra long to help clean up or something, so you’d have more time to talk. On top of that, the older teachers made of habit of floating by and announcing how pretty you looked or how talented you were, and mentioning you were single with broad winks.

“Our sweet girl is just such a good teacher!” one man said. “I’d love it if she would marry my son one day. If she runs a household like her classroom, I could die happy!”

You felt like you could melt into the concrete. Frankie was grinning, his eyes alight with laughter as they met yours. He tried to ignore the feelings bubbling inside of him at the thought.

The next day, an older woman was apparently feeling protective over you, approaching Frankie and him a hard stare down. He fidgeted, shooting you a panicked look before she began asking him questions rapid fire.

When she was satisfied and moved on you finally turned to him saying, “I’m so sorry about this, Mr. Morales,” and he shrugged.

“I don’t mind,” he turned away from you, eyes searching for his daughter, and you almost didn’t hear him add, “It’s worth it.”

Silently you agreed, but before you could say anything, you saw his little one incoming. Instead of her dotting father, she hugged your legs, catching you entirely off guard. Frankie made a choking sound, his heart having leapt into his throat at the sight of you with his kid. The sky was cloudy that day – but he was feeling warm inside.

You talked to her for a bit before she moved on to him and they walked off waving, leaving you standing there in confusion.

Her teacher, on cue, slid up to your side.

“She’s been talking about you in class recently.”

“What? Why?” you were panicking. Never in your life did you picture yourself hoping a tiny little girl liked you, but here you were.

Her smile was soft as she said, “She thinks you’re nice and likes very much that her daddy has a girlfriend that is pretty because she thinks that means she’s going to become a princess.”

This was overwhelming. “I’m not his girlfriend!” you wailed, “I don’t even know what I’m doing!”

She hugged you tight, and whispered that you would figure it out. She promised you were doing just fine, and despite your anxiety, you half believed her.

-

Weeks later, you still weren’t his girlfriend, but you and him were just about the only people who didn’t think so. You let out class as early as you could most days, and he was always there to greet you as soon as you stepped outside. Sometimes he would have an “extra" drink for you from a nearby coffee shop, and he always got your order right. (He did remember his daughter’s teacher's, and well as hot chocolate for the little matchmaker.) Once, it was raining and the two of your shared an umbrella.

Now, your school was getting a new vice principal, and there was a social evening planned for parents and students to come and meet him. You were jittery with nerves, the thought of seeing Frankie in a new setting putting you on edge. You’d even put on a prettier than average outfit as if it were a date, and your coworkers were beyond excited.

Streamers were hung, pitchers were filled with lemonade, and you settled in a seat along the edge, hoping beyond hope that Frankie would find you and everyone else would leave you alone.

You had no such luck. After the new vice principal had been introduced to the staff, he made his rounds, greeting everyone personally before stopping on you. You made polite small talk, but he didn’t seem the slightest bit interested in moving on, settling next to you.

He began leaning close, mentioning how many good things he’d heard about you and you realized he was flirting with you. There was a sinking feeling in your stomach. He wasn’t a bad guy, and maybe a few months ago you wouldn’t have minded so much, but now you just felt weird and uncomfortable. Politeness and politics were part of the job, but you scooted your chair away from his, unable to stop yourself.

When Frankie walked in with the other parents and students, his daughter pointed excitedly at you, tugging his hand. His eyes found you, but jealousy reared inside of him, along with a touch of hurt. There was a new man by your side, and he wasn’t being shy about his interest in you. Frankie didn’t know what do so he pulled his little one in the opposite direction, saying, “Snacks first, yeah?” knowing it would buy him some time.

He watched you out of the corner of his eye, thankful when other teachers seemed to approach the two of you to pull the man’s attention away. There was another roar of jealousy, though, as the man tapped the microphone and introduced himself. Looking at him on the small stage, in a suit and tie, Frankie felt scruffy.

He couldn’t be bothered to listen to him, his mind running. Would you prefer a guy like this? Successful and suave? Baggage free?

He followed his daughter, her attention short, as she ran to play with her friends. He hovered close to keep an eye on them, unable to shake the habit. Some other parents were talking to him, and he tried his best to be polite but he couldn’t keep his eyes away from the man, who was making his way back towards you.

It didn’t take long, however, for Frankie to see how uncomfortable you were, and a small, warm feeling bloomed in his chest in place of the jealousy. He kept the little one in his line of sight as he moved carefully through the crowds and behind the man. He caught your eye, and the warm feeling grew when your eyes widened and you visibly relaxed. Spurred on, he made a little symbol with his fingers over his chest - something Santi often did jokingly. It was an “S" shape, similar to the one Superman wore.

Do you need saving? he mouthed and you grinned, nodding slighting, so as not to betray him to your captor.

He didn’t need to hear more, butting into the conversation politely, but with determination. When the vice principal protested, Frankie confidently wrapped an arm around your shoulders and leveled his eyes at the other man. For all he was a sweetheart in a baseball cap, Francisco Morales could still gaze with the same intensity he had in the military.

The rest of your rescue went smoothly. He guided you back towards where the younger students were playing, and you were still grinning at him.

“Thanks you, Mr. Morales,” your heart was happy, you felt like you were flying. “You really are m- a hero.”

In that moment, Frankie knew he was a goner. To be your hero, and his daughter’s? That was maybe all he ever wanted.

“How can I repay you?” you asked, earnestly, the request and it’s potential making him weak in the knees.

He squeezed you gently.

“How about you call me Frankie?” he said, before taking a shaky breath. “And maybe consider going out to dinner with me tomorrow night?”

You froze, your heart beat filling your whole body. He went to pull his arm away, but your hand caught his on your shoulder, keeping it around you.

“I’d love to, Frankie,” you managed.

Frankie found himself in a similar state of speechlessness, happiness flowing off of him, unable to make his mouth stop smiling. He settled for squeezing you again, both of you glowing and too overwhelmed to notice the high fives and quiet cheers from the staff around you.

-

The next 24 hours, Frankie was a bundle of nerves and excitement. He had spent weeks adoring you, seeing how wonderful you were, sharing as much of himself as he could. Now that he finally had the opportunity to take you on a date, he was terrified of blowing it. Calling Santi was almost a waste of time, the other man was too excited and gave him advice that required flirting skills he knew he didn’t have. He wanted to put his best foot forward, after all. He even left his hat home, cursing himself because the little pink brush he tried to use only made his curls fluffier.

But when he picked you up, time slowed down.

The two of you climbing into his truck, making small talk before you said, “I’m sorry you had to get a sitter for tonight, by the way.”

And he was forced to pause, looking at you. Beautiful, in the passenger seat, somehow thinking of him and his life. His mind was running as fast as his heart, and he didn’t have the slightest clue what to do.

“Frankie? Is everything okay?” his eyes met yours, and they were so earnest you knew to wait.

Gently, you put your hand on the middle console, palm up, offering. His hand fit into yours immediately, clinging to it like a lifeline.

“I… I gotta be honest with you,” he said, in a way that made you sure each word was thought out. “I think you’re really something special. But… I’m really afraid of this. I’m afraid of how much I like you. I had this whole dinner planned … but I can’t. I have all this baggage and I like you too much. I’m not trying to scare you off but … but I guess now is better than later?” his mind vaguely realized he self sabotaged, but it was all true. He was in too deep.

You took a breath, waiting a moment to make sure it was your turn. You felt the cool upholstery, the evening sun, and a tremble in his hand.

“Frankie… I can’t promise you I’ll want to stay, once I know it. But I really like you too,” his eyes met yours and you ran your thumb over his knuckles. “Please, just give it chance? Give me a chance to make that choice? I promise I’m in this just as deep as you are and I’m not perfect either but maybe we can get burgers, and just… just talk? Figure it out together, now?”

He would have squeezed your hand but he realized he was already gripping it too tightly. You knew he agreed though, because his eyes told you, and the two of you drove off.

You ordered bunches of extra fries along with your meals, and he parked a bit outside of town, where the two of you could see the sun beginning to set.

And he told you all of it as the two of you ate. The breeze was warm, running its fingers through the fields as he talked. He hadn’t expected his secrets to pour out of him but once he started, it felt as though a dam had broken.

He told you about his missions, the Delta Force, his friends. The drugs, the rehab, the back slides. The other woman, his baby, the heart break. Even the trauma, the therapy, and being a single dad.

You listened and in turn, told him about your life. Your hardships, your secrets, as forthcoming and he was. You were honest about how scared you were at the prospect of becoming a mother figure for his daughter. About how unprepared you felt for those hurdles. And when you were done, the two of you sat in silence, looking at the rising stars. Eventually, you spoke again.

“Francisco Morales, I still really like you,” you smiled at him, shrugging a bit. “If you’re okay with it, I’d really like to try this thing, with you.”

There was nothing more wonderful than the hope in his eyes at that moment.

“Yes, please,” his voice was a bit raspy. He took a couple of slow breaths. “I have to get home soon but can I be honest with you for just a little bit longer?”

“Of course,” you said, confused.

He hopped out of the truck, jogging over to your side and helping you step down. The door closed behind you but he moved closer instead of backing up.

“I had all these plans to take this slow, do everything right,” his voice was soft, and he was gently pushing into your space, allowing you to stop him at any time. “You deserved it, and I wanted to show you I could do it. But,” his hands found your body, one of them tugging your hips into his and the other settling on the back of your neck, half in your hair. “But I’d really like to skip some steps,” his forehead was on yours, gaze steady, his voice deep and warm.

“Can we skip to the part where I can kiss you? The part where I can tell you how much you mean to me, and hold you?”

You aren’t sure if you managed to say yes before his mouth was pressing against yours, kissing you for all he was worth.

[treeni]

Count Down for What?

Day 2 of Soulmate September

Prinxiety

Wordcount: 4918

TW: Swearing, it wouldn’t be a darkside pov from me without it. Anxiety attack. Heights?

Summary: Virgil hates waiting, can’t stand it really. He can’t even deal with a timer counting down in a video game, much less to one counting down to one of the biggest changes in his life... meeting his soulmate.

Archive Link

Tumblr Masterpost

taglist: @tsshipmonth2020

“Wake up Virgey!” a cheery voice called, ripping away the blanket he was snuggling into.

Bitch.

Virgil kept the thought to himself as he glared up at a freckled face with too wide of a grin for this early in the morning. Patton was his best friend in the world, but no one should be alive at this time in the morning, much less that cheery. He burrowed further into his pillow and pulled his knees up to his chest to conserve the warmth that had been stolen from him.

“Oh come onnnnn, time to get up! You have a big day Virgey! You’re never gonna meet your soulmate just lying there!” Patton exclaimed, grabbing hold of Virgil’s tucked wrists as he started to lean backwards, pulling him away from his comfort source.

“That’s kinda the point Pat,” Virgil grumbled and shook him off, but conceded to the fact that he would not be returning to his bed. If he tried Patton would start pulling out the big stops, like the time he poured a glass of ice water on him after he tried to sleep his way through his own unsurprising surprise party.

“Come on! Lo’s already got coffee on in the other room!” Patton exclaimed, linking their hands and leading Virgil out of the bedroom with a flourish.

Virgil let out a lengthy groan to make it abundantly clear how he felt about the situation that didn’t stop even as he entered the kitchen. Logan just rolled his eyes at Virgil and Patton’s entrance and wordlessly handed Virgil a cup of coffee, effectively getting him to finally shut up. Virgil sipped at his sweet, sweet lifeblood and tried not to make a face as Patton pecked Logan on the lips as he slipped past to make breakfast. Patton and Logan were in roommates, sure, but there was something too pragmatic about their relationship. It reminded him a little of his parents. Then again, he supposed that was just what happened when you find your soulmate at the age of six. Patton and Logan had been inseparable long before Virgil ever knew them. They were so connected at the hip that the only reason Patton and Virgil ever became friends at all was because Logan was an overachiever who both double majored and double minored in university, which suddenly left Patton with an immense amount of time by himself that he had never had before. Logan insisted he try to make friends to fill in some of the gaps so he wouldn’t feel so alone.

Cue a soft boy looking around the university courtyard with big lost eyes as he turned from group to group, looking for a place for himself. Then there was Virgil, barely paying attention as he scrolled tumblr on his phone between classes. Still, something about the dejected look behind big round glasses had Virgil moving from his favorite spot in the courtyard’s tree to jump down. He landed next to the boy who in turn let out a shriek as Virgil dusted off his jeans and straightened his hoodie.

“Hey,” Virgil remembered muttering so many years ago. “Let’s get some coffee.”

“O-Okay,” was the only response he had gotten back at the time as the lost boy followed him without another word.

It turned out that Patton didn’t even drink coffee. Still, they had been best friends ever since.

Why couldn’t that have been his life changing moment? He would have more then happily been platonic soulmates with his pattycake. He still put his foot down and swore that Logan and he had their timers somehow switched because the sweetheart was definitely his soulmate and he refused to hear otherwise. Logan always let out an annoyed huff when he argued it, but the stretched smile on Patton’s face always made it worth it for him to risk Logan’s ire.

“Virgil, this is supposed to be a good thing!” Patton insisted, taking Virgil’s hand in his own and squeezing it compassionately. “You’re going to meet someone wonderful! Someone who’ll change your life forever!”

“That’s what I’m afraid of!” Virgil insisted and pulled his hand away and cradled it close to his chest as if burned.

Patton and Logan shared a look as Virgil curled his limbs in on himself. His touch aversion only made an appearance when he was really becoming anxious. He heard some clanging in the kitchen for a moment before a large glass of ice water was set in front of him and his coffee was pushed away. Logan squatted in front of him, with a hand on the kitchen table to get to reach similar eye levels.

“Breathe Virgil. It is alright. Being nervous is completely normal,” Logan murmured in soothing tones as Patton watched helplessly from the side. Logan was always better at diffusing Virgil’s panic attacks. “Do you need me to run through the exercises with you?”

Virgil thought for a moment and shook his head no. Still, he accepted the glass of ice water Logan pushed in his direction and took a large sip. The cold helped shock his brain out of the spiral.

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine,” Virgil groaned, his head in his hands. He wasn’t really. He was still panicking, but it was more controlled now. Still, the splitting headache rising to his temples wasn’t helping anything.

“May I retrieve anything for you?” Logan asked as Patton finally braved reaching over and rubbing Virgil’s shoulder sympathetically. They both seemed pleased when Virgil didn’t immediately shrug off the touch, even if Logan frowned when he shook his head with a definite ‘no.’

Sometimes it felt like they were practicing on him for when they eventually adopted a kid to complete their white picket fence familial unit. The weirdos.

Then again, it was nice when Patton baked him cookies. Even Logan checking in about his sleeping habits wasn’t so bad really. They’d really make great parents someday to some lucky as fuck kids.

Patton and Logan shot him worried looks as he suddenly went stiff and Patton pulled his hand away before Virgil bolted.

Oh god.

Was he in the way?

Was that why they were so insistent on him finding his soulmate? So he’d leave? Did they want him to leave so they could get their all-American dream and adopt their 2.5 kids?

“Hey, hey, hey Viregy-” Patton started in a whisper, his hand hovering just inches away ready to give comfort in a moments notice. “What’s wrong? What happened? Are you okay?”

“Not so many questions at once Patton,” Logan chided. “Virgil, what’s your favorite ice cream flavor?”

Virgil swallowed and looked up, still able to see Logan’s blue eyes despite his glasses reflecting Virgil’s own pathetic expression. He choked out a breath and was able to mutter out, “Cherry Garcia.”

“What movie did we watch last night?”

“...Stardust... You picked it.”

Logan nodded. “As a compromise that you and Patton would both enjoy. What day is it?”

Virgil deadpanned. “I barely know what day it is when I’m in a normal state of mind.”

Logan smirked and patted his shoulder before pushing the ice water back his way. “I see you’re feeling better.”

Virgil accepted the water and took another long drink.

Bitch.

He was just so done with the day already and he hadn’t even had breakfast.

From there it seemed that Logan and Patton had collectively decided the best thing was to give him some space as the two took their places at the counter to work through cooking their meal together. Some days Virgil would help, but he was certain if he tried today Patton would shoo him away. He wasn’t really in the state of mind for it anyway and was happy to stay just where he was and stare at the slowly dwindling clock counting down on his wrist.

Just a few hours now.

Breakfast was a short affair. Eggs and sausage were placed in front of him as the loving couple took their usual seats next to one another at the other side of the table. He was sure it was all delicious, but he had to convince himself it didn’t all taste like cardboard as his mind continued to reel. Everything was going to change today.

Everything was going to change.

He wasn’t ready.

“Maybe I should go to work,” Virgil said as he picked up his plate from the table and took it to the sink. The least he could do as a good roommate was to take care of the dishes. “Remy’s always complaining we don’t have enough staff as it is.”

“Did you not specifically put in for vacation today?” Logan asked with a raised brow.

“Yeah, but-”

“Oh! Do you think Virgil already knows his soulmate? Could it be a coworker?” Patton asked and practically had stars in his eyes at the question.

“While the familiarity might help Virgil with the shock. All of the documented cases I’ve seen show them not previously knowing each other before at least the day the timers are set for. However, there’s still so much that’s unknown about the phenomena that it is difficult to say anything for certain.”

Virgil chewed his bottom lip as he took Patton and Logan’s dishes too. Anything to keep his hands busy.

“Maybe I’ll go into town...” he muttered to himself.

“Oh! I can see it now, you bump into your soulmate, the two of you drop all of your bags and your clocks reach zero just as you both touch hands while reaching for the same thing!”

“You know Pat, I think I’ve read that fanfiction. One of yours?” Virgil asked with a snort.

“It will be now,” Patton said, sticking his tongue out at Virgil from the other side of the kitchen island.

Virgil just mimicked him before throwing some of the soap suds at his cheeky friend.

“You’re both pretty,” Logan deadpanned with a huff at their antics before standing and wrapping his arms around Patton’s middle.

Logan nuzzled his nose just under Patton’s ear and Virgil watched his best friend simply melt under the ministrations.

“I am certain that whatever Virgil decides to do, everything will work out,” Logan said gently and kissed Patton’s forehead. “After all, he knows he will always have us, correct?”

Virgil squirmed when he realized Logan had gazed directly his way when asking that last question.

Fucking mind reader.

“Always!” Patton declared cheerily in agreement, seemingly unaware of Logan and Virgil’s silent conversation.  

The rest of the morning went by fast after that. Virgil tried his best not to draw his hoodie sleeve because every glance at the countdown timer on his wrist only reignited his anxiousness. Patton eventually had to rush off for work, but pushed a packed lunch into Virgil’s hands on the way out before kissing Logan goodbye.

Yep. Absolute parents.

Virgil stuck it on the table by the door and paced their apartment a few more times.

If he moved out, they’d have an extra bedroom available for a kid.

His stomach turned as he tried to push that thought out of his mind. Logan said they wanted him here.

Logan didn’t lie.

He sighed and eventually let himself collapse against the couch. He was already exhausted and he hadn’t even left the apartment yet. A few minutes later Logan saw fit to join him, book in hand and the two sat quietly with only the occasional sound of turning pages filling the silence. Virgil could not stop himself from staring down at his wrist, even through his hoodie. He’d catch himself staring, rip his gaze away and zone out with his gaze aimed in the general direction of the wall, only for the process to repeat again.

“You know, the timer will continue regardless of how long you stare at it.”

Virgil gave Logan what he was sure was a pained look before finally giving in to pulling the sleeve back as they both inspected the decreasing numbers.

Just over four hours now.

“I’m just... I’m not ready Lo,” he said holding up his wrist showing the timer that would not stop. “This will change everything and I just... I just can’t.”

“It does not have to,” Logan said, setting the book aside. “Think of it simply as an opportunity for change. You do not have to accept it. Maybe you meet someone, maybe you do not, you may even find it is someone you cannot abide at this point in your life. You can always leave the situation. Call me if you need an escort if things go sour and please keep me updated on where you go. This is always your home first and foremost, regardless of what happens. If you cannot fit any person you meet into the life you want to live, then simply turn around and come back home. Nothing has to change.”

Virgil stared at square framed glasses stupefied. That wasn’t something he was expecting to hear.

“However-” Logan started, as his expression took on an unusual wistfulness. “I cannot imagine what life would be like without Patton in it. A life devoid of joy I am certain is most likely. Patton reminds me how to live rather than simply exist. You should know better than most though what I mean when I say so. He brings laughter and love in a way that makes me proud to be his partner each and everyday.”

Virgil felt like he was sucker punched in the chest. Logan never spoke like that.

“He says I bring him joy too, though I cannot imagine how. Still... Patton just wants you to have that same sort of happiness Virgil.”

“I...” Virgil started. “I am happy.”

Logan just smiled and squeezed his shoulder as he stood up. “Just remember. This is an opportunity, not a contract. You always reserve the right to say no and I can promise you that you will always have a place here. I will push no further however, whatever you decide to do Patton and I will support you.”

“Where am I even supposed to go?” Virgil huffed out to Logan’s retreating figure. “How will I know I’m even going to the right place?”

“There is no wrong answer. Supposedly, wherever you decide will be the right place,” Logan answered, pausing at the doorway.

“Then what difference does it make if I stay here?”

“Does this feel like where you are supposed to be?”

Virgil just stared at him. No. No it didn’t. He gave a final groan and forced himself off the couch before stomping toward the front door and taking his bagged lunch with him.

Fucking bitch.

He wanted to kick something.

He ended up at the park and his already fragile mood was immediately soured as he passed by a group of musicians in large overly ornate hats as one with a particularly stupid looking mustache blew a sour note from a horn directly into his ear. He flipped him off and continued on the path, putting as much distance between him and the noisemakers as possible.

Virgil let himself fall into old habits as he hopped and grabbed hold of a tree branch before he even realized what he was doing, climbing until he was situated comfortably with his legs stretched out on a sturdy branch and his back  leaning against the trunk. Soulmates could suck it, he was gonna people watch today. Plus, if he was truly doomed to have to deal with an extra person in his life, he might as well take survey of them before having to actually meet them.

From here he could see a few couples. Definitely not. A few joggers and dog walkers who were hurrying down the path. Not the kind of people who would be around in the two hours he still had remaining. There was an older woman feeding the pigeons because some cliches existed for a reason it seemed. God he fucking hoped not. He’d almost take the mariachi bastard instead. Maybe.

Virgil let himself just exist for a little while, almost in a daze, but not quite snoozing as time passed around him. How was this soulmate thing supposed to work anyway? It’s not like he had some kinda of confirmation telling him he had the right person. Maybe the whole thing was some conspiracy, pairing people together artificially as to force them into some kind of submission. Like, how was he supposed to confirm that he even was with the right person when the clock stopped? Or what if they passed near each other and never truly met? Supposedly these timers were just supposed to magically stop at the exact moment two people who were just supposed to accept living the rest of their lives together would meet? Sounds fake.

Virgil’s attention was taken as he heard a rustling sound somewhere beneath him and found someone arranging a picnic basket. Oh god, what kind of dweeb goes to the park looking like they stepped straight out of a fairy tale book? He did a double-take though. Something about him looked... oddly familiar? He wasn’t sure how though. He could see some basically-prince-charming kneeling on a classic plaid red blanket and arranging a... surprisingly impressive set up. There were covered hotplates with something that smelled savory and absolutely delicious. Some kind of cake was in a clear plastic container. There was a pile of seemingly random snacks. He recognized the packages of a few, crackers, chocolates, granola bars, even a couple boxes of raisins of all things. Two matching sets cutlery with cloth napkins underneath the silverware. A three pronged candlestick was placed between the plates with rose petals scattered around at random and- Oh shit, was that wine? Was that even allowed at the public park?

Virgil wasn’t sure he wanted to know, but he sure wasn’t gonna rat the guy out. The dude obviously put in a lot of effort for his date. That was the kinda guy who deserved a soulmate, not Virgil. Virgil was still in his ratty hoodie and rattier converse as he was waiting to meet them for the first time. A plan? Ha, in this economy? He was lucky he even remembered his wallet. He couldn’t imagine being the kind of person to arrange intricate dates like the picnic prince down below. In fact, Virgil was a little uncomfortable being so near. He couldn’t imagine that the happy couple would stay very happy if they found their private date was basically permanently photo-bombed by a guy chillin in the tree above them.

Virgil tried to shimmy his way across the branches, so he could try and jump down and land on the other side of the tree so he didn’t have to deal with the strange conversation of falling in the middle of someone’ picnic setup. What he didn’t count on however, was a branch catching on the pocket of his hoodie and effectively stopping him from making the trek to the next branch. In fact, being jerked back from crossing threw off his momentum enough that he couldn’t seem to right himself. He tried to regain his balance on another branch, but it cracked underneath his feet and suddenly he was falling.

Into waiting arms.

What the hell?

Virgil found himself staring straight up into the face of picnic guy. God the wannabe prince was even prettier up close.  He had big amber eyes, a heart shaped face, high cheekbones, and a pointy chin. He truly looked as if he belonged in the clothes he wore.

“Are you alright?” The man voiced, but it was almost more rumble than true sound and Virgil wasn’t sure he could breathe.

“Um... uh...mhmm,” he squeaked out lamely, barely able to get even that much out as he found himself freezing in place.

Not that it was a bad place to be....

Virgil shook the thought out of his head. The guy was clearly preparing a date. He probably already had a soulmate and Virgil had someone he was waiting to meet soon.

Soon.

Too soon.

Oh god.

He couldn’t... he couldn’t... he couldn’t what?

He couldn’t do this.

He couldn’t breathe.

Fuck!

All thoughts seemed to be immediately wiped from his brain suddenly as the only thing he could focus on was the sound of his rapidly beating heart pounding in his ears. He couldn’t, he couldn’t, he couldn’t he couldn’t hecouldn’thecouldn’tcouldn’tcouldn’tcan’tcan’tcan’t-

“Shhhh... sh, sh, shhhh. It’s okay... everything is okay. You are safe. Whatever this is, whatever is scaring you so, I will protect you. You don’t have to be scared of anything. I promise. It’s okay. Yeah? How about we just breathe together for a little while okay? Can you do that?”

Virgil swallowed and managed to nod after wiping some tears away with the sleeve of his hoodie. He wasn’t really... okay yet, but he managed to wrangle back up some thoughts from their banishment. Mainly that he was making a fool of himself, but anything was better than the sheer, terrifying nothingness of shutdown.

“Do you have a name?” the (now also clearly deserving of the prince attire he wore) guy asked while setting him down gently at the base of the tree.

“Vir... um Virgil.”

“I’m Roman,” the prince said kindly and gave a reassuring squeeze to his bicep. It reminded him a little of Patton actually. “Would you like some sparkling cider Virgil?”

Roman held up the bottle that Virgil had previously thought to be wine, but he could see from his position it was alcohol-free. At least no random park rangers would try to arrest the guy. He deserved better than that, Virgil decided.

“Or I have some bottles of water-”

“Shit, I’m so sorry!” Virgil exclaimed, scrambling to his feet.

“What? What is it, what’s wrong?!” Roman exclaimed, immediately taking a somewhat defensive position in front of him, like he was protecting him.

“I ruined your date! I should... I should go. I’m sorry I uh... god I am terrible at this. I’m sorry for everything.”

“Wait please!” Roman exclaimed, grabbing the cuff of his hoodie. The damn thing was going to be the death of him. Virgil swore he was gonna finally buy a new one when he made it home. “You don’t have to go.”

“But... your date,” Virgil said, gesturing lamely to the beautiful setup Roman had spent so long on.

Roman let go and pulled his arms in uncomfortably. “I uh... I don’t even know if they’re coming or not to tell you the truth.”

“Wait, you did all of this and didn’t even know if they’re coming? That’s so...”

“Stupid, I uh... I know,” Roman said, looking down at his feet.

“I was gonna say brave,” Virgil said and gave a reassuring smile when Roman’s gaze jumped back up to his. At least he wasn’t the only one uncomfortable today.

“Th-thank you,” Roman said, his voice contorting slightly. He sounded choked up. Virgil almost reached out to give him some kinda comfort, but stopped himself.

That would be weird right?

He didn’t like... know the guy.

Right.

“Would you... um would you please join me for a bit while I wait?” Roman asked, his fingers fumbling with the hem of his tunic.

“On one condition,” Virgil said.

“Anything,” Roman immediately breathed and Virgil could practically see the hope in his eyes, but he couldn’t fathom for the life of him why it was there.

“You gotta tell me the story behind the prince gear.”

Roman’s cheeks immediately flushed a bright red. “Oh... um... well...”

Virgil let himself plop to one side of the picnic blanket and Roman gracefully slid down to mirror his position, surprisingly still stammering.

“-you see uh... I’m an actor and I just came from um...playing...”

“Prince charming?” Virgil asked with a smirk.

Roman nodded shyly. “In Cinderella. I’m usually much better at this... at least on stage I am.”

“At what?”

“At... well... talking?” He said it as if it was a question. “And uh-” It was Roman’s turn to gesture lamely, both to the set up and to himself. Virgil could basically grasp the gist of what he was trying to say at least.

“I think you’re doing great,” Virgil said with a grin. This guy was absolutely precious. He was almost jealous of the prince’s oncoming date. If they didn’t show he’d sweep him away himself. Fuck the soulmate.

“I really appreciate that Virgil,” Roman said with a sincerity in his eyes that let Virgil half in love already.

Bad Virgil, bad. He has a date. You have a soulmate. Focus.

“Anytime,” Virgil muttered, and took a swig of the cider, almost wishing it were the wine he probably shouldn’t have in a public park.

Roman smiled and Virgil was trying to convince himself he wasn’t completely destroyed by that crooked grin. He looked... relieved by Virgil’s answer, certainly more comfortable. From there, the conversation seemed to flow rather easily. Roman spoke of the dinner theater he worked at, making decent pay, but he didn’t plan to be there forever. He spoke of his dreams, on the stage, on the big screen and Virgil could only nod along and admit it makes sense that someone as pretty as him would be in movies. Roman shut down for a minute at that particular comment, but only grew more enthusiastic. Virgil learned he had a brother who had several books out and that Roman wanted to catch up in prestigiousness . They were apparently twins after all and Roman refused to fall behind.

Virgil spoke of himself too. He told him about Patton and Logan, the perfect soulmates who had found each other so young. A couple truly destined to spend a lifetime together. He spoke of his friendship and how he came to be acquainted with the literal embodiments of suburbia. He talked about his job at the radio and even running his own show on the off times on nights and weekends. He told him that he would usually be there for a show at the moment, but his coworker was covering for him today. Roman spit out his drink, but looked immediately embarrassed for doing so.

“Sorry sorry! It’s just... you’re... you’re that Virgil?”

“You’ve tuned in I take it?”

“Only every night! What other station plays Disney music at two in the morning?!” Roman exclaimed and grasped Virgil’s hands in his excitement, but them seemed to remember himself and curbed it back, releasing his catch.

No... Virgil thought grumpily. I liked the excited boy. Bring him back.

“I uh... I like to listen to your show when I’m working on my own projects at home,” Roman admitted, twiddling with the hem again.

“Well, then I’m glad. If I can bring someone inspiration, then maybe I’ll just never move the show,” Virgil said only half joking. Being on in the morning was considered prime time and they always got the best commercial deals, but... but if he had a fan like this.... Well, he didn’t want to disappoint.

“You know Virgil... I almost didn’t come out here today. My brother kinda pushed me into it. He and his partner are formidable as a pair.”

“I can absolutely relate with that. Still, it’s a pity that your date’s been a no show. All of that hard work you and even your bro put into it...they don’t deserve you.”

“I uh... I don’t know about that.” Roman said, staring with that same hopeful expression and Virgil was ready to throw hands with whoever hurt this man by leaving him here alone.

“You think they’ll still show?”

“I uh... I was thinking... hoping that they were already here,” Roman admitted and pulled down his sleeve to a timer that was rapidly approaching zero. “I was hoping it was you.”

I was hoping it was you.

I was hoping it was you.

I was hoping it was you.

The words echoed through Virgil’s brain rapidly as he tried to process the meaning... the ulterior motive. He couldn’t find any. He pulled back his own sleeve. 5...4...3...2...1....

Oh.

A small beep sounded in his own head, it almost acted like an auditory arrow pointing, no pushing him in Roman’s direction. Suddenly they were close. Suddenly they were inches apart. Suddenly hands were on his hips and all he could see were beautiful amber eyes.

Suddenly lips were on his.

Just as he let out the first hints of a moan from the feeling of Roman’s lips, oh lord his soft lips, they were interrupted and rapidly pulled away from each other at the sound of a microphone adjusting.

“THIS ONE GOES OUT TO THE HAPPY COUPLE ON THE PICNIC BLANKET! NEWLY FOUND SOULMATES!”

How the fuck?!-

All of the residents of the park cheered and clapped while looking in their direction. Confetti came from... somewhere? Loud music started playing and only a few feet from them and Virgil was absolutely shooketh seeing the band he passed when he first came into the park

“I... I didn’t hire them I swear!” Roman exclaimed, throwing his hands up in bewilderment and confusion.

Virgil didn’t doubt it.

“That guy in the mariachi band over there that kinda looks like you wouldn’t happen to be your brother would it?”

“Ugh, god dammit Remus!” Roman said the name with more venom than the swear and pinched the bridge of his nose.

[snowdice]

Gaps in His Files (Part 10) [Relabeled; Refiled Series]

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Logan/Patton

Characters:

Main: Logan, Patton

Appear: Remy, Virgil (but only in the epilogue)

Summary:

Logan Berry has learned many things the last 10 years: a lot of math and physics, a bit of humility, and how to be a hero being just a few. Through his education, his experience teaching, and his exploits as the superhero Bluebird, he’s changed in a lot of small and large ways. He has recorded these changes in well-organized documents and files. He’s even had to create two new file designations: a red one for files about his moonlighting at Bluebird, and a light blue one dedicated to his boyfriend, Patton.

When Bluebird is targeted by a memory device and all of those 10 years of progress suddenly disappear, Patton Sanders and Logan’s extensive files are left as his only resource to get those memories back. But what is Patton supposed to do when there are clear gaps in his files? And what does he do when he is one of them?

This is set 25 years before Sometimes Labels Fail though it’s story is completely independent of it and it is not necessary to read that one first.

Notes: Superhero AU, memory loss, past child abuse, past child neglect, unhealthy ideas about ones place in relationships, emotional suppression, self-deprecating thoughts, medical procedures mentioned, very brief unhealthy views of sex

I feel as though I should make a statement in Logan’s defense before you read this. There is a thing called unreliable narration and... our narrator is spiraling. 

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

“I have to go to work today,” Patton said Friday morning. “I am trusting you enough to not attempt to go to school like yesterday if for no other reason then so you don’t embarrass yourself.”

Logan nodded and Patton didn’t think he’d gotten his point totally across yesterday, but he thought Logan would probably not do anything today since on Fridays he only had to attend two classes and not teach or meet one-on-one with anyone.

“Good,” Patton said, biting his lip. Logan was distracted with one of his personal files and wasn’t looking at him. He’d been quiet yesterday after Patton had dragged him back from the college. He’d stopped asking Patton questions about himself or really talking to Patton at all, instead choosing to stew in his ire in silence. He read the book Patton got him and was civil when he needed something from Patton or when Patton asked something out of him, but his discontent with Patton’s presence was written all over his face. ‘Maybe I don’t want what I built’ echoed in the silence between them. It really sucked to know that Logan could so easily learn to hate him. “Bye then. I’ll see you later.” He shut the door to the apartment behind him.

He drove to the hospital in a daze of emotional numbness and sat in his car in the parking lot, staring at the tall building for almost 15 minutes with a tight feeling in his stomach before finally forcing himself into the building.

He had been hoping that having something to keep his mind busy with would help him feel better, but it just seemed to make things worse. It made the gaping hole in his chest widen and widen until it threatened to consume all of him. When he went to check on a patient’s wound, he felt like he could throw up despite the fact that he was long past being grossed out by medical things. It just kept getting worse and worse as Patton worked mechanically through the morning. Talk to patients, smile at coworkers, take vitals. Don’t rest. Don’t feel. Don’t break. Break and someone dies.

“Patton,” a voice called as the lunch hour crept closer. Patton turned to see Remy rushing down the hallway towards him. “What are you doing here?” he asked.

“I have a shift,” Patton replied blankly. He tried to turn away from him because a friendly face was the most dangerous thing right now, but Remy grabbed his arm. “What do you want Remy?” Patton asked, refusing to look at him. There was a pause before he was tugged on and yanked into a hall closet.

Patton rounded on him once the door closed behind them, a bit of it leaking, just not in any way that would actually help. Instead, it came out in a way that would likely just make it worse when the guilt hit later. “What?” he snapped harshly.

Remy didn’t respond for a long moment, just leaning against the opposite wall of the closet with a frown on his face. Patton bristled under the scrutiny.

“I heard Bluebird got beamed by a memory gun.”

“Yes, I’m sure everyone knows that by now,” Patton replied scathingly.

Remy again didn’t react to the harshness in his tone. He just nodded. “Bet that’s hard for people who know him personally,” he said.

“What do you want?” Patton said and this time it came out more wobbly than harsh.

Remy sighed. “Patton go home.”

Patton shook his head and could feel pressure building up behind his eyes.

“Patton this is not the place for you today. I’ll tell Bev you’re sick. Just leave.”

“I…” Patton stuttered. “I can’t. I…” he started to shake, bursting at the seams. “I can’t,” he gasped, and he didn’t think he was talking about how he couldn’t leave work anymore. Remy leaned forward to tug him into a hug and Patton shattered like a window in a hurricane.

He could hear Remy saying things to him, but he couldn’t make out anything of the words except the soft sympathetic tone.

“A little girl fell out of the window,” he blurted out, unable to keep it in anymore, “and she was so tiny and so hurt and I had to cut into her with a knife so I could try to put her bones back together right and if I did anything wrong she might not ever be able to move right again. She could’ve died on the operating table and it would have been my fault. I shouldn’t have been the one to do it. Why did they pick me to do it? I’m not any good at this. I shouldn’t be here. I’ve just gotten lucky and one day someone isn’t going to wake up that should have and they’re all going to know how much of a fuck up I am. I can’t do anything right. I pretend and pretend to be good at things and nice and perfect but it’s all just an act and eventually everyone’s going to see it and they’ll all hate me. No one loves me and no one should love me and everyone who thinks they love me will eventually find out the truth and leave me because I can never be good enough no matter how hard I try.”

“Woah, hey, that’s not true Patton,” Remy said looking alarm. He was trying to wipe the tears off his face with his sleeve, but more just replaced them the next moment. “That’s so very not true. You’re not a screw up. You’re a great doctor and you’re not faking anything. So many people love you for you including me.”

Patton just shook his head. “You don’t know me,” he cried. “You don’t know me at all. The only person who I’ve ever even let really known me is Logan and I love him so much, but he doesn’t love me back, because I’m not good enough. And now he hates me.”

“No, no, Pat,” Remy said. “I know you’ve probably had a rough couple of days, but that man absolutely adores you. He could never hate you no matter what. He’s a dork who’s afraid of his feelings sometimes and he gets all pissy with strangers, but I know he doesn’t have it in him to hate you. No version of him ever could.”

Patton just laughed. “No. He doesn’t love me. Not really.”

“He does, babe. I promise he does.”

“I proposed to him,” Patton said. He managed to steady his voice, but tears were still streaming down his face. “He said no.”

Remy blinked and his mouth gaped open for a moment. “When…?”

Patton sniffled. “Two months ago.” It had been a soul draining, humiliating experience.

“How do you feel about marriage?” Patton had asked one day in bed after staying in Logan’s apartment for the third time that week. He had been thinking about it for a while and that day he’d blinked open his eyes to see Logan staring at him with the softest expression he’d ever seen on the man’s face and then Patton had been slowly and thoroughly kissed the rest of the way awake. It hadn’t even led to sex that morning, but Patton had thought he wanted to wake up like that every day forever.

“Marriage?” Logan had asked in response with a lilt to his tone that had made Patton swallow.

“Yeah,” he’d replied, “uh, specifically you marrying me.”

“Are you saying you want to marry me?”

“I… yes,” he’d admitted, but felt the need to backtrack, “but only if you want to.”

There had been a long pause and Patton had felt his heart shatter in it. “Give me some time?” he’d asked, but Patton had known that meant no. They had been dating for three years and he knew Logan had likely already made his decision about Patton long ago. He didn’t need more time. He was quick at making decision and he rarely went back on them. Patton had known him saying that meant Logan didn’t think Patton was good enough. That he hadn’t loved him enough to want to wake up next to him every morning. Patton had felt tears prickling at his eyes which wasn’t fair to him, so he’d turned away.

“Of course, sweetie,” he’d said as steadily as possible and that had been the end of the conversation.

“So yeah,” Patton continued in the present. “There’s something wrong with me and I… I don’t know what. If I did, I’d change it, but I can’t figure it out. Maybe it’s just all of me. Maybe he’s too smart and can see through all of the acts and knows how horrible I really am inside.”

“Oh sweetheart,” Remy said and leaned forward to kiss him on the forehead. “You are wonderful. I promise. You’re the sweetest person I’ve ever met. Want me to slap Logan for you? That might fix the problem.”

Patton chuckled darkly. “Which problem?” Remy grabbed his face and made him look him in the eyes.

“You need to go home,” he said firmly. “You need to take a bath and eat some ice cream and watch a sad movie so you can pretend you’re crying about that. Okay?”

Patton didn’t respond, just averted his eyes.

“Come on Pat,” Remy cajoled, “nurses orders.”

Patton smiled just a bit. “I’ll take the day off,” he conceded.

Remy frowned probably because he could tell that Patton was not going to follow the rest of his instructions because Patton was too rotted on the inside to listen to anyone’s advice.

He let Remy deal with telling people he’d be gone for the day and headed back to Logan’s apartment.

Want to read more? Click below!

Part 11

[seaweedbrain404]

Wolfstar Au: A Guide to Parenting, Friendships and Heartache (pt1)

read the rest on ao3

Still, he felt it wasn’t fair to him, they had been married nearly a year but had been dating for years and years beforehand. It wasn’t fair to him or Anna’s parents because all three, Anna and his parents were dead. Remus, Marie and Edward were forced to navigate some sort of way to raise the baby by themselves. Of course, it should’ve been all Remus but Marie and Edward were just too nice. He felt they had a sense of duty or maybe a love for their grandson that made them do it.

Either way, they were suffocating. Always up in Remus’ business and he felt horrible for thinking that because without them, the past few years would’ve been hell. Now, Teddy was six years old and Remus needed to get the hell out of the small town that was nestled in the back-arse of nowhere in Wales. Sure, he would certainly miss the beautiful scenery and his job at the local chipper but it was time for a change. That time was now.

Remus picked a cheap apartment somewhere in Liverpool, bid his in-laws goodbye and packed up shop. One of the reasons that Remus chose Liverpool is because he had to drop out of college to help support Teddy and now he was considering going back to actually get a degree. It didn’t escape him that he still had Teddy to think of but he couldn’t just stay on a job that just paid minimum wage and kept them threading above the poverty line for the rest of his life. It was now or never.

It was all these things Remus was thinking about one night, months after they had arrived. He had gotten a job but he hadn’t started night school like he’d wanted to. Teddy was tucked away, asleep in bed when Remus made his fourth cup of tea that evening.

He knew he needed to hire a babysitter. The thing was, he wasn’t sure who to trust with Teddy. Besides, it wasn’t like he had sufficient funds to hire anyone until now. Earlier that day he put a notice on the board downstairs, hoping that if he had to trust someone then it would be someone from this building.

The clock showed 2:30am when Remus finally retired to bed, checking in on Teddy before doing so.

The next morning, the school run was as normal as ever. Teddy was in Year 1 and was getting on exceptionally well, despite having moved school just under halfway through the year. Remus was glad about this, at least he hadn’t unintentionally messed his kid up.

“Daddy?” Teddy asked through a mouthful of toast that morning.

Remus looked up from his tea, ready to give his son full attention.

“Can I have a friend over?”

“A friend?”

“Yeah, his name is Harry and he’s really good at Lego”

Remus thought for a moment before responding, Teddy having a friend over seemed like a good idea, especially since this was the first time he’d ever heard Teddy mentioning anything about a friend. “Well, I don’t see why not but I’ll have to talk to Harry’s mummy or daddy first, okay?”

“Okay” Teddy grinned at him, wolfing down the rest of his toast.

“Daddy, why do I have to wear this?” The 6-year-old grimaced as Remus helped him do the buttons on his coat.

“Because, in school you have to wear a uniform”

“But whyyyyy” Teddy took Remus’ hand as they walked out of the flat, waiting patiently as Remus locked the door behind them.

Remus just smiled and shrugged.

Teddy didn’t let the silence linger for long as the two walked down the street towards the school. “Daddy, why don’t we have a car?”

God, it was moments like these Remus wished social class didn’t exist because how do you explain to a 6-year-old that the reason they don’t have a car is because Remus works a minimum wage job, having to support himself and a small child.

“I don’t really like cars” He said instead.

Teddy cocked his head to the side, looking up at his father. “Why not?”

“They’re too noisy and they make the air bad”

“Oh, I guess it’s okay to not have a car then”

Remus let out a light laugh, never a dull moment with Teddy.

“Harry said I could go over to his as well, that’s why I asked if he could come over too” the small boy said, in reference to their conversation over breakfast.

“Mmm… we’ll see, I still have to talk to his mummy or daddy”

“Yeah- oh look!” Teddy stopped dead in his tracks at the school gates, pointing to a boy about his age with dark hair and round glasses. “That’s Harry daddy, I have to go!”

“Wait- do I not get a hug and a kiss before school?” Remus crouched down, eye level to Teddy.

“Oh, sorry I nearly forgot” Teddy turned around and hugged his dad tightly. Remus gave him a kiss on the forehead before letting him. “Bye daddy!” He called, already running off.

Remus watched Teddy run up to the boy he pointed at earlier and tackle him with a hug, which was eagerly returned. He had a small smile on his face when he felt someone tap his shoulder.

“Are you Teddy’s dad?” He was face to face with a red haired woman with green eyes, she had a kind smile on her face as she held out her hand.

Remus shook it. “Yeah, yes I am”

The woman smiled wider. “Brilliant! I’m Lily Potter, Harry’s mum- Harry has been going on about Teddy for ages”

Remus didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t realised he’d be known as ‘Teddy’s dad’ instead of Remus. It was a surreal moment before he realised he hadn’t introduced himself. “Remus Lupin, Teddy mentioned something about a playdate?”

“Oh yes, would you like my number?” Lily asked and kept talking as Remus produced his phone from his pocket. “We can work out the time later but how does Saturday sound? I don’t usually work weekends so any day is okay for me” she handed Remus back his phone, shrugging a little.

“Thank you… I’ll get back to you on that one, Saturday should be fine” He smiled and waved a little, walking backwards before turning around.

Remus felt a little lighter as we walked into work that morning. He worked in a small bookshop with very flexible hours and shitty pay so it was both a curse and a blessing. The owner even let him bring Teddy in during the weekends and after school if he wasn’t finished his shift. Teddy liked the picture books and the ones with dinosaurs the most.

About halfway through the shift, Remus’ phone rang. At first he thought maybe it was from the school and something horrible had happened but then he saw the number onscreen; it wasn’t saved so it couldn’t be the school.

“Hello?”

“Hi, is this Remus Lupin?”

“Um- yeah”

“Cool, cool…. listen, I saw your notice downstairs and I’m wondering if the babysitting position is still available?”

So that’s what this was about. Remus hadn’t expected anyone to respond so quickly and eagerly. “Oh! yes, yeah it is”

“Great, I’d love to take it so”

“Okay um, thank you Mr….”

“Sirius Black, I live just across the hall…. I can start whenever”

“Right, oh, can I get back to you? I’m not sure what day I’ll need it but it’ll only be once a week and then we can talk fares then too”

“Sounds brilliant, cheers”

“Cheers” Remus replied, then heard the other man hang up.

“Ooooo…. you look cheery after that, who was it?” His coworker, Alice, gave him a wink.

“I got a sitter sorted for Teddy so I can do night classes”

“Oh! that’s lovely dearie” She pulled Remus into a quick tight hug. Somehow Alice Longbottom always seemed to hug him. In fact, she always seemed to hug anyone she was half familiar with.

The rest of the shift went blissfully even when Remus went to collect Teddy and brought him back to the shop to finish off the last few hours of his shift.

“Daddy, did you talk to Harry’s mummy?” He asked suddenly.

“I did” Remus answered, sorting through some of the front shelves. He looked over at Teddy, who was sitting on top of the counter besides the till. Alice had put him up there, despite Remus telling her to just leave him sit on the floor.

“Annnnnd?”

“She said Saturday and I said Saturday was okay”

“Yay!” Teddy jumped off the counter, which considering the fact the counter was a lot taller than him and he was 6-years-old was enough to give Remus a small heart attack and scold him.

“Teddy! you can’t do that, you’ll hurt yourself” He chided the child who had wrapped himself securely around his father’s leg.

“But I didn’t hurt myself”

It was too hard trying to argue with a child and Remus resorted to shaking his head. “I know but you might, I’m just worried” He said, bending down and picking him up.

“Why are you worried?” Teddy asked, taking Remus’ face between his small hands.

“I’m your dad, that’s my job” He said before blowing a raspberry into Teddy’s stomach which made the boy giggle and squeal with joy, and putting him back down. “Now, let me finish this so we can get home starfish, okay?”

“Okay” Teddy nodded in agreement, starting off towards his favourite picture books.

Remus continued filling the shelves when he heard Alice speak next to him. “You’re a good dad, y’know Remus”

Remus smiled slightly. “I try my best”

“I just hope Frank will be too, I’m thinking of having a baby with him” She confessed, smiling a little madly.

“I’m sure Frank will be great, he sounds lovely from what I’ve heard”

The rest of Remus’ shift flew by and soon, the father and son duo were walking down the street again.

“What’s for dinner?”

“I was thinking pasta”

“Are you going to try and make the one with the weird green sauce again daddy?”

“Pesto, and no, I know you like the red sauce”

“That’s okay then”

A brief silence settled between them before one of them broke it and this time it was Remus.

“Teddy?”

“Yeah, daddy?” The small boy looked up at Remus, putting a hand over his eyes to shield them from the sun.

“How do you feel about a babysitter?” Remus asked cautiously.

Teddy seemed to think about this for a moment. “Why would I need a babysitter? I have you”

Remus smiled a little at that. “I want to go back to school- grown up school, college, and I’d go late so a really nice man will come mind you for a couple hours and put you to bed and then when you wake up in the morning… I’ll be home again”

Teddy was quiet for a long time again. A bit too long for Remus’ liking but eventually he nodded. “Yeah, I think that’s okay”

So, just like that, Remus and Teddy walked home the rest of the way with Teddy telling him everything that had happened in school that day.

Once they returned home, Remus started on dinner and Teddy did his homework at the kitchen table. All was well. Bathtime then bedtime rolled around quickly and soon Remus was the only one awake.

He turned on his laptop and started browsing night classes. It was still early enough in the school year for him to join. He wanted to find a course that took place once a week and would teach what he wanted. It took a while and once he found it, he realised it would take him far longer to complete his degree than he initially thought. That didn’t deter him though because he sent a text to Sirius Black, asking if Thursday worked for him. Thankfully, the response was very enthusiastic.

Wednesday went by like a flash. The pair got up, had breakfast and when Remus dropped Teddy to school, he spoke with Lily again. They arranged a time for Saturday and then Remus was off to work again.

“Remus?”

He looked up from the till and gave Alice a small smile. “What’s up?”

Alice looked a bit sheepish, fidgeting with her one of her rings. “Would you and Teddy like to come for dinner sometime?”

Remus opened his mouth to answer but Alice cut him off.

“It’s just that, Teddy’s so good and Frank is thrilled about the idea of a baby but he says he’s really scared and I thought maybe if you two came for dinner, you could talk to him and maybe he could see how wonderful Teddy is”

“Oh-“ Remus paused, scratching the side of his neck. “Yeah, I guess we could… I mean- I don’t see why not, Teddy adores you so I’m sure he’ll behave”

Alice smiled widely, pulling him into another one of those tight hugs. “Thank you Remus! I don’t know what I’d do without you”

The rest of the shift passed quietly, not many people came to the bookshop and so when it was time to pick Teddy up, Alice told Remus to just go home.

“If I need anything, I’ll call you” She reassured him, pushing him towards the door.

“Alright, alright, I’ll see you tomorrow”

[dlwritings]

Inexplicably in Love | Steve Harrington

masterlist found here

pairing - Steve Harrington x plus-size!reader word count - 3,318 warnings - insecure reader is insecure A/N - takes place in between seasons 2 and 3 - idk I’m crying but it’s whatever

This one’s for the anon who requested it and for all my plus size gals who don’t look like Ashley Graham. (No shade to Ashley. She rocks. I just don’t always feel like she represents my kind of plus size.) Some of us don’t have sexy curves. Some of us are just mushy. But you know what? We’re cute! And someday we’re going to have non-fictional Steve Harringtons who love us and our beautiful squishy bodies. And someday we’re going to love our own squishy bodies without the validation from someone else. I already love ya’ll. Also to my squishy guys and non-binary pals! I see you. You’re all gorgeous, and I love you too.

summary - You’re having an off day riddled with insecurities about yourself. Lucky for you, Steve is the sweetest boyfriend on the planet and knows just what to say and do to make you feel a little bit better.

It was Friday night, and you had plans with your boyfriend, Steve.

Boyfriend. Even after almost seven months, the word still felt weird coming out of your mouth attached to Steve Harrington’s name.

Steve had been working at Scoops Ahoy for about a month, and he wasn’t crazy about it. He felt indifferent about his only coworker, Robin, and some of the customers who came in on the daily drove him up the wall (*cough cough* Erica *cough cough*). The one plus side was that every other Friday, he got to close, and on those Fridays, there was usually a new shipment of ice cream. So on Thursday, he would make sure you were mentally prepared to come to the back entrance of the parlor the next night when the rest of the mall was closed so you could try the new flavors together. It had happened only three times so far that summer, but it was easily Steve’s favorite part of the job.

And usually, you were excited for it too. You and Steve would try all the flavors and usually make out in the back until your butt got sore from sitting on the counter. And then you’d go make out in his car until your curfew. It was a fun routine.

It was just that, today, you weren’t feeling so hot. No, you weren’t sick, and you didn’t have a headache or anything. You were just having one of those days. One of those days where every outfit you put on was wrong, and your tummy looked too pudgy from every angle, no matter how hard you tried to hold it in. You spent the entire day in bed, only getting up to shower in the morning, grateful you didn’t have a job you needed to go to. Your parents were at work all day, and your mom only came in your room when she got home to say hi and ask if you had eaten dinner already. You lied and said you had.

On these days, when your insecurities ate away at you, you needed to lay in bed and sulk. It was like purging for you. You just had to get rid of all the bad feelings so you could feel refreshed and put on your happy face again.

The truth was, you were never confident or outgoing or extroverted or popular. You honestly had no idea why Steve was attracted to you in the first place. You looked nothing like any girls he had been with in the past. And you weren’t really friends in high school. He wasn’t mean to you or anything. You actually sat by each other in most of the classes that you had together and often got in trouble for whispering, passing notes, or snickering during a lecture. Still, that didn’t mean you were friends. At least not in your mind.

You were Dustin’s neighbor and would sometimes get roped into babysitting him. This happened the day he trapped “Dart” in his cellar, and it changed your relationship with Steve. And, you supposed, with everyone else involved. Just, obviously, not in the same way.

From that night on, you and Steve were inseparable. It didn’t take long for the two of you to become official. And you were happy. Genuinely, really happy. You just still didn’t get it. And it wasn’t easy to be in a relationship you didn’t understand. You were constantly questioning it. Always wondering if Steve had some twisted ulterior motive. And you could never go out with him in public without noticing all the people staring. You knew what they were wondering. It was what you were so often wondering.

What is he doing with her?

Today, you had to shake all those thoughts away and go be with Steve. It was 9:30, and he was expecting you around 10:00, so you dragged yourself out of bed and put on some clean clothes. (You has been wearing your pajamas all day, putting on a clean pair after you showered.) Your parents liked Steve, but you knew they wouldn’t be too thrilled if they knew you were leaving the house late at night to meet up with him. So, like usual, you opened your window and climbed out, glad that your room was on the first floor as your feet touched the grass. Your parents slept like a rock and turned in already at 9:00, so you started your car without fear of waking them up and made your way to Starcourt.

You tried giving yourself a pep talk throughout the whole drive. Today was just like any other day. You didn’t look any different than you did yesterday, and you felt fine yesterday. This was fine. Your jeans buttoned up, and your t-shirt fit over your stomach. What more could you ask for?

A tummy that wasn’t so round. Boobs that didn’t seem too small because your weight rested in your stomach. An ass that wasn’t flat above your thick thighs. You knew curvy girls could be beautiful too, but you weren’t like those curvy girls. You didn’t have a round ass and big boobs. You were just meh. Just kind of there. 

You pulled into the mall’s parking lot feeling no better about yourself than you had when you left your house. You pulled down your car visor and opened the mirror, practicing your bright smile for Steve. You added some lipstick for good measure. If you could flash your pearly whites behind some killer red lips, Steve would be clueless to how sad you actually were. You loved Steve, but he could be so oblivious sometimes.

Steve was waiting for you outside the usual back door with his silly sailor costume on, sans the hat as usual. He greeted you with a kiss on the cheek and let you inside the mall. “We got three new flavors,” he said as you made your way through the back hallways. “Strawberry cheesecake, caramel chocolate chip cookie dough, and brownie fudge swirl.”

“Sounds good,” you said. “Did you try any yet?”

“What? No!” Steve laughed. “I waited for you. It’s tradition.”

“It’s also tradition for you to steal a scoop and pretend like I don’t notice,” you teased. Steve shrugged but didn’t attempt to fight the smile on his face.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, sweets,” he said. “I would never set sail on my ocean of flavor without you.”

When the two of you got into the kitchen, you jumped up on the counter next to the freezer. Steve smiled and walked over to you, passing the freezer and focusing only on you. “What’s on your mind, sailor?” you teased, putting your arms over his shoulders so you could twist your fingers in the curls at the nape of his neck. Steve didn’t usually let people touch his hair, but he had a soft spot for you, so he let you do it.

And who was he kidding? He was like a puppy. He absolutely adored it.

“You look gorgeous tonight,” he said, putting his hands on your waist.

“Steve,” you said with a roll of your eyes. “I look gross. I’ve been in bed all day.”

“You have?” he said, sounding genuinely confused. And that was fair. You didn’t usually spend an entire day in bed. Usually you sat outside on your front porch with a book or went out to the store just to get out of the house. “Are you feeling okay?”

“‘M fine,” you said, moving your hands from Steve’s hair. You needed a subject change. “Alright, let’s try this ice cream!”

Steve obliged, grabbing his ice cream scoop and then reaching into a cabinet for some plastic spoons and paper cups. You were grateful he didn’t seem to notice your odd behavior.

But he did. Steve wasn’t as clueless as people thought, especially not when it came to you. He could tell something was wrong, and he had a hunch he knew what it was. When you were wearing your bright red lipstick (the one you only kept in your car), 99 out of 100 times, you were having one of your off days. Steve thought you were beautiful, but he knew you didn’t think the same. Some days it was easy to convince you to see your beauty. Other days it was harder.

Steve opened the freezer and dished out two scoops of each flavor into three bowls with one flavor in each bowl. He handed you a spoon and kept one for himself. “First up,” he said dramatically, “strawberry cheesecake.” You both took a spoonful, clinked your spoons together to cheers, and took your first bites of ice cream.

The routine continued for all three flavors until you decided on a favorite: the caramel chocolate chip cookie dough. You were both all smiles as you continued to eat your ice cream, sometimes feeding each other spoonfuls because you were just that adorable.

Steve started to throw everything away and clean up the rest of the back room, and you stared at your feet. “Hey Steve?” you said, looking up at him.

“Yeah?” he said, flashing you a sweet smile.

“Is there anything you don’t like about yourself?” you asked. “Like, about how you look.” Steve let out a low whistle and leaned his back against the table across from you.

“That’s a loaded question,” he said. “Why do you ask?” You just shrugged and stared down at your lap. “Well, I mean, of course I do.”

“You do?” you asked, looking up at him.

“Everyone does,” he said.

“But, like what?” you said in genuine disbelief. “You’re-” You cut yourself off and motioned to him. Steve laughed and ran his hand through his hair.

“Sometimes I don’t think I’m muscular enough,” he said. “I’m kinda scrawny. And I can’t grow facial hair very well. And I have a square head.”

“A square head?” you repeated, unable to hold back your giggle. “What are you talking about? You don’t have a square head.”

“Yes I do,” he said. He turned his head to different angles, trying to prove the fact to you. You just rolled your eyes and put your hands behind you, leaning back on your arms.

“You’re ridiculous,” you said.

“Why’re we even talking about this?” he asked, stepping closer to you. He opened your legs so he could stand between them.

“I don’t like my tummy,” you said. It was matter-of-fact. There was no reason to skirt around the edge with Steve. “It’s too pudgy. And my boobs and my ass suck because my weight just carries weird. I’m like-” You thought. “I’m like the Michelin Man. The Michelin Woman.”

Steve scoffed, “Who’s ridiculous now?”

“I’m not being ridiculous!” you said. “You know it’s true. Everyone knows it’s true. I’m a walking, talking marshmallow. You should just paint me white and make me sell tires.”

“Stop,” Steve said, furrowing his eyebrows. He put his hands on your waist, and you visibly cringed. You knew he was feeling your squishy sides. “(Y/N),” he said, putting his fingers under your chin and making you look up at him. You had been worrying your teeth into your lower lip to stop it from quivering. “You’re so beautiful,” he said. His voice was soft, but firm. “I love your body. Every part of it.”

“You don’t have to say that just because I’m whining,” you said, wiping a stray tear that had fallen down your cheek. “I didn’t mean to invite you to my pity party.”

“I’m not just saying that,” he said. “I could spend hours just holding you and touching you and kissing you.” You blushed and looked away from him again. He made you look at him. “I’m serious, (Y/N). I never get sick of your body.”

“You haven’t even seen all of my body,” you muttered. “I’m sure you’d find parts you didn’t like.”

“Have I ever given you the impression that I wouldn’t like what I saw?” he asked.

“You don’t know what I look like under all of this,” you said, motioning to your clothes. You had this aching feeling of shame in you, and nothing you were saying was making it go away.

“Jesus, I wish we weren’t having this conversation in Scoops fucking Ahoy,” Steve said, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “I know that when I take off your clothes, there won’t be a supermodel underneath, but that’s not the point. 90 pounds, 100, 200, I don’t care. I love you because I think you’re beautiful, inside and out. And when I see you naked for the first time, it’s not going to change my mind.”

There were two things to note from Steve’s short speech.

The first was that he spoke in phrases of certainty. When I take your clothes off. When I see you naked. Not if. When. He wanted to, but more than that, he planned to.

The second was that he said I love you.

In seven months of dating, neither of you had ever uttered those words. Steve had a sketchy past with love, so he no longer tossed the word around lightly. You had never been in love before, and the idea of it scared you.

Yet there you both were: a sailor boy and his shy sweetheart. Inexplicably in love.

You hadn’t realized you were crying until you felt a tear slide down your nose. You wiped it away and sniffed. “You love me?” you said. Steve smiled and wiped some more tears from your cheeks.

“So much,” he said.

You didn’t ask him why, and you didn’t ask him if he was sure. That’s what people would expect you to do. Insecure girl needs proof that someone loves her. That was one stereotype you wouldn’t fulfill. Instead, you laced your fingers in his hair again and whispered, “Say it again.” Steve was happy to oblige.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N),” he said, “I love you.” You let out something that sounded just as much like a laugh as it did a sob and kissed your boyfriend. He smiled and kissed you back, welcoming your body into his open arms.

“I love you too,” you muttered, pulling away only slightly and only for a millisecond. “In case that wasn’t clear.”

“Mm, good to know,” Steve joked. “And I just want you to know-” He pulled back a bit and pressed his forehead against yours. “-if we weren’t in this god forsaken ice cream parlor, I would be stripping you of every piece of your clothing so I could properly worship every-” He stopped and kissed down your jaw. “-part-” His lips settled at your neck, sucking at a spot that made you grab a fistful or his hair. “-of your-” He bit softly on the spot, certainly leaving a mark you’d have trouble covering in the morning. “-body.”

“We-” You breathed in sharply as Steve kissed the base of your throat and to the other side of your neck. “We don’t really have to be in this god forsaken parlor anymore though, do we?” Steve grinned against your skin and shook his head no.

“Hmm,” he hummed, nipping at the new spot he made. “I guess we don't.”

You and Steve each got in your respective cars and drove to Steve’s house. His parents, as usual, weren’t home, so the two of you headed up to his bedroom, unafraid of getting caught. Your lips were pressed to each other’s as you fumbled to Steve’s room, bumping into walls as you turned corners. When you got into his room, you both made your way over to the bed.

You wanted to say you were excited and eager, but mostly you were nervous and hesitant. Maybe you weren’t ready for this. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Steve, and it wasn’t that you didn’t love Steve. It wasn’t even your insecurities eating at you again. It was just … you weren’t sure. You just didn’t feel ready.

Still, you owed it to Steve, you knew. For the past seven months, you had been holding out on him for various reasons and now, you invited yourself over to his house and wanted to bail on the intimate activity Steve was expecting? That wasn’t fair. You could make yourself ready.

You truly underestimated how good Steve was at reading you. Your kisses slowed, and the hand that was inching its way under your shirt stopped its movements. Steve pulled back and looked at you, an understanding smile on his face. “You’re not ready,” he said, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear. He was almost completely hovering over you, literally about to take off his clothes, and you weren’t ready? What the hell was wrong with you?

“No, I am,” you said, trying to get yourself to believe it too. “I am.”

“Hey,” Steve said, lifting his hand to stroke your cheek. “I’m not going anywhere.” You covered your face with your hands in shame.

“I feel like I lead you on,” you whined. “All that stuff you said at Scoops, and-”

“Everything I said at Scoops will still be true tomorrow,” he said, pulling your hands away from your face, “and the next day, and next week, and next month. No matter how long it takes you, I’ll always mean what I said. I didn’t just say it to get in your pants tonight.” You couldn’t help but giggle, and Steve laid beside you, pulling you close to his chest.

“Why are you the nicest person in Hawkins?” you whispered, tracing the patterns of his Scoops uniform.

“Just in Hawkins?” he teased back. “Not the world? Not even Indiana?” You rolled your eyes with a smile and wrapped your arm around his waist. “Still, I feel like I shouldn’t be praised this much just for being a decent guy.”

“You’d be surprised how rare decent guys are,” you said back. Steve chuckled and pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

“Wanna spend the night?” he asked. “I-” He stopped to clear his throat and scratch the back of his neck. “I bought you some pajamas. They’re in one of my drawers.” You looked up at him.

“You did?” you asked. You couldn’t fit into Steve’s clothes, so whenever you spent the night there, you had to bring your own pajamas along with your change of clothes for the next day. Steve nodded and stood up from the bed, still rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly -a tick he had when he was nervous. He opened his top dresser drawer and pulled out a jersey style nightgown -much like the one you usually brought to his house- and a pair of short black shorts. He handed them to you with an almost embarrassed look in his eyes.

“I hope that’s not weird,” he said. “I guess I, I just figured it’d be easier in case, you know, in case something like this ever happened where you didn’t plan on staying, but you did, and then-” Steve had been so busy rambling that he hadn’t even realized you stood up from the bed and walked over to him. You startled him by placing a kiss to his lips. He relaxed instantly and kissed you back, resting his hands on the small of your back.

“I love you,” you whispered when you pulled away. Steve smiled and brushed his nose against yours.

“I love you too.”

In a relationship, you didn’t need someone to tell you you weren’t fat, because you were, and that was okay. What you needed was someone who took your needs into consideration and made you feel safe, comfortable, and loved, no matter your own insecurities. There was no one who could do that for you quite like Steve Harrington.

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TAGLIST

@bangtan-serendipity | @planetdemon | @the-singing-clown406 | @tomshufflepuff | @bluelalal | @grandloser | @jackiehollanderr | @mindset-jupiter | @bisexual-sk8r | @feel-like-gold | @runaway-apple | @miraclesoflove​ |  @toniinhere ​

[cancerbiophd]

hello! i was looking through your career stories tag and was inspired to ask for some advice of my own. lately i've been feeling very lost in undergrad. in high school, i was super successful, had goals and stuck to them, and had a path in mind. however, i ended up revising that plan a million times, and now i feel super behind in comparison to my peers. i feel like i lack a ton of skills and that i'm not where i should be (1/2)

(2/2) do you have any advice? and do you/your followers have any stories about people who were successful, got stuck in a rut, but found their way back? i keep reading stories about people who didn’t do well in school then found a successful career, but i never hear about people who were successful in school, got lost, then recovered, and it makes me wonder if there’s hope for me

Hi anon! (Thanks for sending in that 2nd part again after tumblr ate it the first time round)

I fee like I took a similar path to you, and before I launch into my story, here’s my advice on some things you can try:

Break the bad habit of comparing oneself to others. We are all unique, with unique pasts, presents, and futures. To compare two people’s achievements or lack of achievements is unfair. That’s giving an experimental treatment to a sick person and another to someone already healthy and then comparing the results directly to each other. Not a good scientific study huh. Well, we should look at our lives like that too. It’ll take time and practice and a lot of active thinking, but let’s all try our hardest not to compare ourselves to others. We are all carving out our own paths. 

Talk to others with experience and get their insight. Talk to your professors, your counselors, your parents, your parents’ friends, and even older students (like me!). Ask them for advice. Ask them what opportunities you have. Ask them what career choices one can make with your interests and goals. Basically, broaden your knowledge of what’s out there in the world so you can find a niche to fit in. I really wish I had done this because I was very myopic in that “interest in biomedicine” = “clinical doctor or bust!”. I didn’t know that I could go to grad school to study cancer research and then go work in a biotech company (my current path and goal). 

Once you find a career path that interests you, try to experience what “a day in the life of” is like. Because something that sounds great on paper may not be a good fit in person, and vice versa. Options for this include: volunteering, internships, entry-level jobs, shadowing, informational interviews (where you talk to someone in the field in a casual setting and ask them what their job is like), and well-rounded research. Doing things like working in the field or even shadowing also gives you the benefit of learning transferrable skills that could help you on your next step. And that brings me to:

Take a gap year (or a few) if you feel like you need it, especially if you need to gain more experience in a certain field. It’s also a great way to give your body and mind a well-deserved break after decades of school! I took a gap year (well, 2.5 years) to work and get lab experience and it was the best. 

Do not give yourself a timeline. This sounds… counter-intuitive, but what I mean is: do not set goals like “dream job at age 30!!” “a house at age 31!!” because they may be a) unrealistic, and b) could set us up for disappointment. Also, we need to realize that we don’t know what the future will bring, and that it’s also ok to take one’s time. We’re all gonna live until we’re 70-80 anyway right? So let’s just take things one step at a time. We’ll set goals and work towards them, yes, but let’s not set deadlines for ourselves. We’ve had enough deadlines in school already! 

Don’t give up. Things will be ok. I know it’s not.. super helpful for me to say this, but it’s a real point to make. No matter what happens, keep trying. We can’t reach the light at the end of the tunnel if we stop walking forward, yeah? 

I hope those points are helpful. If you’d like more detail, or have any other questions, please don’t hesitate to contact me!

Alright, now to my story, because I feel like I may have gone through the same thing you’re going through right now, so I want to let you know that times may get tough like it did for me, but if you keep going and trying, things will eventually be ok:

Just like you, I was pretty darn successful in high school, also did well in college (like good grades, had goals and met them, etc). I always knew my path was going to lead me somewhere amazing, because that’s how I was brought up my entire life. Then I got stuck in a rut because my original plan A (med school) turned out to not be right for me, and then plan B also turned out not right either (pharmacy school), and then I got straight out rejected from plan C (physician assistant school). I even had to change my major 3 times because of my change of plans (well, one change was because the US recession hit and my college had to cut my original program ugh), so I had to really cram my classes into the summer. I graduated college with a degree that wasn’t going to get me where I wanted to (B.S. in Microbiology, and jobs were still hard to find because of the recession, and basically nowhere to go. I had no job and had no idea what to do (or what I really wanted, really). So I moved back home with a feeling of emptiness that no end in sight. 

My plan was basically to find a job that would open doors for me in the biomedical field. I even got my pharmacy tech license, and I was applying to receptionist positions at clinics. It got to a point where I was so desperate I interviewed to be someone’s personal assistant and they were like “you are way too qualified for this I can’t hire you”. 

And I was so confused as to how I could’ve ended up on the wrong path. I mean, I knew what I did wrong (I didn’t do those point of advice I gave earlier because I didn’t know I had to do them). But I didn’t know how it went so wrong. How did I go from straight A/B’s and proactive student leader in a bunch of clubs to unemployed with no concrete plan in sight? I was bright. I was a hard worker. A fast learner. I knew I could be good at anything I did. This rut I was in wasn’t really supposed to happen. And all the while my friends were going to grad/med school or starting successful careers–a fact my narcissistic and emotionally abusive mother would remind me of every. waking. moment. She would scream at me every day that I was an embarrassment, a disappointment, a “poor investment”, etc. The look of pure hatred she would give me–I have never seen that on another person’s face ever. I couldn’t even see my friends because she essentially put me on house arrest as “punishment”. 

It really was absolute hell. I was cleaning some old storage boxes recently and I found my old diary from that time, and inside was a note. It was a note of despair and resentment and an ending that may have happened… I don’t remember how I got the strength to keep going, but I think I had conjured up the slightest sliver of hope that night, put down my pen, closed the journal, and went to bed. 

So, I kept at it. I studied for the GRE, I looked up grad school programs, and I kept applying to jobs in the biomedical field. I got picked up by a temp agency that was hiring out contract workers to local science companies, and even interviewed for a few available positions. Things were looking a bit better. 

Then I saw a job ad on craigslist looking for a research tech at a lab at my old college. I applied, interviewed, and was turned down. Bummer. Then my mother (in a rare moment of helpfulness) asked a friend of a friend who was a PI in a research institute in Florida if they wanted a totally free unpaid intern. I had a skype interview and they accepted, and I was getting ready to move halfway across the country to be a volunteer with a Bachelor’s degree when I got an email from another new PI at my old college. She had gotten my application from the first PI who I had interviewed with and wanted to meet to see if I could be her research tech. And then literally a week before I was supposed to move to Florida that PI told me she wanted to hire me. Oh thank god. I had graduated in May, and got hired at this position in October. Even though it was only 5 months, it felt like forever for me to finally find my way out of the dark cave and back into the light. 

This PI did research on cancer biomarkers. Working in her lab was one of the best things to ever happen to me: I got the lab experience I was missing, I found a love for cancer research in particular, I applied for (and got into) grad school to study Cancer Biology, and I met a coworker who eventually became my husband (and you betcha we invited the PI to our wedding and asked her to give a speech lol). 

I graduate (hopefully) next semester with my PhD in Cancer Biology, and my husband and I plan on moving to Seattle (a biotech hub) afterwards. I plan on getting a post-doc position at the Fred Hutch Cancer Center, then a scientist position at a local biotech company, and then see where that takes me. Life is good now. Things really did turn out ok. 

I’m so glad I never gave up. 

And I hope you won’t give up either, anon. I pray you don’t have to go through anything as tough but! Yes there’s still hope for you! There is always hope

[thelazyeye]

hi em !! could you write something with potter eddie? like clay and stuff

YES I SURE AS FUCK CAN. I took a pottery class in high school and I fell absolutely in love with the art. Anon you reached into my chest and stole my whole ass heart. This wasn’t meant to be long but I saw an idea and I ran with it and I really, really hope you like it! Enjoy, anon!

There’s Clay Underneath My Fingernails, Earth Underneath My Skin

When Eddie first enrolled in ceramics in high school he thought he would hate every second of it. His curriculum demanded that he take an art class every year and, naturally, on the day of registration Sonia had kept him home because he looked ‘feverish’ despite having literally no fucking temperature. And, as luck would have it, no other art classes had openings that fit with what he needed to graduate. So, ceramics one it was.

He dreaded it. It was messy, useless, and a waste of his time. All art classes would be a waste, honestly. He wasn’t Bill. He didn’t understand how to draw and paint lines that somehow came together to look semi-decent. Or, dare he say, beautiful. He wasn’t artistic. He understood math and money and mechanics. He knew how to put stuff together, not create stuff.

He had no idea how good the clay would feel in his hands. He didn’t know how satisfying it would be to build something up from nothing. And surprisingly, he had no idea how good he was going to be at it.

So, Eddie spent the last semester of his senior year wrist deep in clay, building and molding and sculpting until he had filled an entire bookcase with stuff he made by hand. He learned how to make mugs, whistles, bowls, chalices, containers, jars, everything imaginable. He even made a box that he designed to look like a book. The top cover came off on a hinge that swiveled back and forth. He got an A on every assignment. Who knew something Sonia did could have paid off so well.

These days, Eddie finds himself at the local studio at least a few times a month. It’s enough time to sculpt something, bisque fire it, glaze it, and throw it in the kiln for its final fire. He churns out one piece a month, two if he’s dedicated or has extra spare time. His apartment is full of handmade mugs and vases. He gives a lot of his pieces away, never really bothering to sell them. Maintaining a store is too much effort and he isn’t in it for the money. Pottery is something he loves, not something he’s trying to build his life around.

The clay is cold to the touch, firm and slick as he moves his fingers around the first mounts of a new pen holder he’s been thinking of making for his desk. He has a design in mind so he works. He divides the clay up and rolls it between his hands and the wooden tabletop. When he’s done he wraps them around each other, coiling the clay until he has a base and the wrapping up the sides. He adds swirls and notches and bumps for texture. He doesn’t notice as other people file in and out of the studio. He just rolls, wraps, and molds his design, watching as what he’s pictured in his mind comes to life before him.

“It’s unique,” comes from behind, a gentle voice that startles him out of his concentration. He knows who it is without looking.

“Thank you,” he answers, soft and distant. Too wrapped up in the way he smooths out the inside of his sculpture for support. Too focused on the bend of his coils, the wrap of his spirals.

“Are you planning on finishing it tonight? I can throw it in for the first fire before I leave and you can come back and finish it tomorrow,” the voice says back, all easy charm. The same way it’s always been. “The shop opens at 10. Maybe we can grab breakfast and then head on over?”

Eddie stops at that and turns. His heart practically leaps into his throat as the studio owner leans over him. He’s got thick glasses resting on his nose and thick, black hair curling out of the bun on top of his head. It was infuriating. No hair that unkempt should look that fucking good. “Tempting, Richie. But I’m gonna have to pass.”

“Oh, come on Eds!” Richie cries, throwing his head back and draping his arm over his eyes. It’s for dramatic flair and it makes Eddie crack a soft smile. He turns back, though, quick not to let Richie see it.

“Not my name,” comes out quick. The venom that used to be there has long since died, though. It melted with the snow and left something blooming inside of him. It settled in his chest, taking root in his organs and binding itself to his nerves.

Eddie has been coming to this studio for the better part of 2 years now. He found it shortly after he moved to Monroeville. It was the perfect place to step away, to unwind after a stressful week. He met Richie the first time he came in. Richie was trying to set up him in the studio and get him everything he would need to become a regular member. The interaction was so bad that Eddie had almost abandoned the idea altogether. Richie was crude, he didn’t seem to take anything Eddie said seriously, and he pried too much for Eddie’s comfort. Serious boundary issues. He was everything Eddie had spent most of his life distanced from and Eddie was more than prepared to walk out of the studio forever just so he’d never have to see Richie again. He did walk out that day, a scoff on the end of his lips and his jacket hastily thrown over his shoulders.

For some reason, though, he found himself back the next week. The second Richie had seen him he bounded over, hands out in defense when Eddie moved to leave a second time. He apologized for his behavior and offered Eddie a discounted rate. Richie’d spent several months walking on eggshells. He was still infuriating but it was more tolerable. His one liners and crude comments were on the downlow and Eddie could swear he caught Richie smiling at him in ways he didn’t smile at the other members.

Shit didn’t really start to shift, though, until The Vase Incident. Eddie had this bright idea to make a Vase for his coworkers’ birthday. She’d caught eye of one of his pieces in their shared office and gushed over it. So, he decided hey, why not make her something nice?

Well, something nice turned into absolute hell. He couldn’t get it right no matter how hard he tried. He spent hours at the potter’s wheel, throwing his clay and spinning. He didn’t spin frequently but he wanted it to be nice for Bev. He wanted it to be perfect but he couldn’t get it right. Either the clay was off center or he spun his slope too thin or it collapsed at the base. He swears he nearly had a stroke over the damn thing.

He had been so wrapped up over it one January weekend that he hadn’t noticed the other potters left and that he was the only one in the studio, aside from Richie. Richie was on the opposite side of the studio, carving patterns into a tile that Eddie thought might turn out to be mosaic.

“Let me help you,” he offered after watching Eddie destroy the collapsed base of yet another vase. “If you keep this up we’ll be here all night.”

The clock on the wall read 11:23pm and Eddie all but kicked the chair out from under himself as he stood. His frustration was clear in the tension of his shoulders. If Richie could help him, fine. He would have taken anything he could get at that point.

Richie took his place, throwing a hunk of wet clay on the wheel and pressing the pedal down gently. He used his fingers to center it, pushing the edges until the met as an even ridge and then cupping his hands around the lump. He brought it high, pressed it low, and then dipped two fingers into the middle to create the opening. Eddie watched as Richie pinched the top and brought it outwide, eventually pressing his entire hand down to hollow the base and then guiding the clay up and redistributing the mass.

After ten minutes, Richie had constructed a simple, yet elegant, vase. It wasn’t very big, maybe big enough for one or two flowers, but it was standing and structurally sound. More than Eddie could say for his own work.

“How did you do that?” He asked, voice scratchy and hands covered in drying clay.

“Practice, Eds. I own all these wheels. It’d be a damn shame if I didn’t know how to use them,” Richie winked. He failed at covering a yawn before stepping away to grab a line of string. He gently cut the vase from the wheel and lifted it off. Eddie watched as Richie carved a crooked E.K. into the bottom before placing it in the kiln room. “I’m gonna fire a round tomorrow. I’ll throw this in then. Why don’t you go home and get some rest?”

“Sure. You, too, you know. It’s well past closing time,” Eddie said back, a small smile on his face.

“Yeah, I know. I just couldn’t bring myself to interrupt you. You’re cute when you’re concentrating.” Richie didn’t hide his flirting, this time. He let himself smile at Eddie from across the studio. It was like the defenses they’d both been wearing for so long had dropped from the exhaustion. “You know, if you took my last name you could carve E.T. into the bottom of your pieces,” he chuckled, “You know, like E.T. phone home?”

Richie eyed him, gauging his reaction with a toothy grin and a very clear wink. If he was waiting for Eddie to take the bait, he didn’t. Eddie simply smiled back and wished Richie a goodnight, effectively destroying most of the boundaries they had established after that first day.

Today, he’s not making a vase and as per their new usual Richie isn’t tiptoeing around him anymore. Eddie flips his piece over, minding the coils on the top and wetting his fingers to smooth out the bottom for structural support. When he’s done, he carves E.K. into the bottom and stands.

“Come on!” Richie chirps as he follows Eddie across the studio, “We both know you’re going to be back here tomorrow to glaze this beauty up!”

“I will,” Eddie answers, placing his piece on the cart and moving to wash his hands, “But that doesn’t mean I’m going to get breakfast with you.”

“Lunch then? We can go after you finish,” Richie says. His voice borders on something other than teasing. Its new, almost insistent. It catches Eddie off guard. “It’s supposed to be nice tomorrow.”

Eddie watches him out of the corner of his eye, slipping his jacket over his shoulders and grabbing his stuff. “We’ll see.”

He doesn’t miss the way Richie pumps his arms in the air as he leaves the studio. It wasn’t a yes, but it wasn’t a no either, and he thinks they both know the meaning behind his indecision.

He can feel something twist in his chest as he drives home. It lingers through dinner and into the night. A date with Richie Tozier isn’t unattainable, it never has been, but Eddie has always stayed far, far away from the idea. He found every excuse to keep him far, far, away. He was too crude, too loud, too messy. He was too kind, he was too beautiful, his hands were too perfect. Richie Tozier was too much for him.

It wasn’t sustainable. Eddie knew it. Richie was just some person filling the void in his chest. He didn’t even know him. How could he have any real feelings? It was just a childish infatuation that would destroy everything if he pursued it. He’d lose the pottery studio and he’d lose Richie, too.

Not that there was anything real to lose there. But whatever.

“Spaghetti! Right on time,” Richie shouts as Eddie walks in the next day. The clock blinks 10:20 am on wall but Eddie pretends he doesn’t notice Richie greeting or the fact that he’s right on time. Instead, he places his jacket on the hook and moves to his regular workstation. Richie disappears into the back room and returns with his piece. “It really is unique. What color are you going to choose?”

They talk glazes for a few moments and Eddie watches as Richie ties his hair back at his own work station. He’s got a small pot in front of him. Its stubby and wide and very Richie. Richie flicks on the radio and they settle into silence. It’s too early for others to be in the shop on a Sunday, so they work in peace. Eddie paints with a green, speckled sort of glaze. The brush works over the indents and ridges of the coils. In the time it takes him to work three coats over the piece Richie isn’t even halfway finished with his own greenware.

He watches Richie work, deep concentration written on his face. He’s got his glasses pushed up and a detail brush painting small designs into the underside of the lip. The sunlight comes in through the window and hits him in a way that makes him glow. That feeling from the night before returns and, fuck it, whatever. Who fucking cares. This is ridiculous. This is insane. This is absolutely fucking silly. One hundred percent bonkers. Hands down the worst fucking decision he’s ever made was finding this god damn studio.

He places his piece back on the firing cart for its final run through the kiln and slips out of the front door. Richie is so deep in his work that he doesn’t even see Eddie go.

Eddie doesn’t go back to the studio for a few weeks. He tells himself he’s busy with work, life, whatever excuse he can shove into the situation. It’s not like he has anyone to defend himself to but he can’t bring himself to admit why he’s avoiding the shop. It drives him insane but it’s an insanity of his own creation.

It isn’t until he loses his favorite pen twice in the same day that he breaks. That dumb little coiled container was supposed to be for his desk. It was supposed to help keep his life organized. It was supposed to be a gift to himself. A gift to his fucking desk and pens and home.

God dammit.

Richie doesn’t work on Tuesdays, so Eddie finds himself in the studio before work. He’s dressed head to toe in scrubs and a light jacket to combat the Spring chill. He fully intends to be in and out without incident but naturally the universe has other plans for him.

“Eddie, fuck man it’s good to see you!” the assistant manager calls out from the front. He bounds over and Eddie doesn’t even have time to reply before Bill is in front of him, smiling and talking. “Richie’s been worried about you! Says he hasn’t seen your cute face in a few weeks. Everything okay?”

Eddie coughs quietly before answering. Richie was worried about him. God dammit. “Yeah, Bill. Everything’s good. Just been super busy with work and stuff.” He gestures to his clothes before placing his piece in a bag and angling toward the door. Bill just nods empathetically and waves him goodbye.

He shouts a quick see you soon, hopefully! before the door shuts.

For no reason at all his interaction with Bill burrows into his skin. Eddie is fifty percent emotionally driven impulse and he was more than ready to withdraw his membership from the studio on principle alone. He can’t date the owner. He can’t have a silly schoolyard crush on that man. There’s no reason for something so disruptive. And then Bill just had to tell him he that Richie was worried and that he hopes to see Eddie soon. Why that mattered so fucking much, Eddie had no idea. But it lives inside of him now. Eating at him until he breaks in the other direction.

He finds himself back in the studio again next Tuesday. Bill greets him gently before he takes his seat, grabbing some clay and rolling out two slabs to create about a quarter inch thickness. He cuts the first one, rolls it, and binds the seams. It’s a technique he’s used hundreds of times before and it comes easy to him. He cuts a circle for the base from the second slab and carves in a single word before binding it to the tube he’s created. He rolls a coil, twists it along the side, and boom. Its bisque fired that night and Eddie returns on Thursday to glaze it before work. He paints a simple design around the outside of it and then places it on the cart.

He meets up with Bill over the weekend outside of the shop to pick it up. Inside, he can see Richie teaching a young girl how to make a whistle. He can see the slope of the chamber and what looks like six appendages extending out. Even from here, Eddie knows it’s going to be a Richie Tozier original. Something ridiculous, unique, yet still beautiful in its own way.

He doesn’t return for another two weeks. The anxiety of his plan weighs down on him. It was an impulse that could go horribly, horribly wrong but he also knows that no one knows what he’s planning. He could abandon it entirely and no one would know. He could call the studio, end his membership, and be on with his life. He’d never have to see Richie again. Sure, he might have to give up sculpting for a few years, maybe the rest of his life, but damn if it isn’t a possibility.

Still, though, Eddie finds himself outside of the studio on a Saturday afternoon. As always, he can see Richie inside working on something. He steels himself and pushes through the doors, immediately heading over to the Keurig to make a cup of coffee. He grabs a handful of creamers and sugars and heads right for Richie’s workbench.

“You look like you could use a cup,” he says, trying and miserably failing to come across as natural. If Richie notices he doesn’t say anything about it. Thank god for small graces.

“Kaspbrak! You’re back!” Richie shouts loud enough for several people to turn their heads. Eddie can feel his face heating up as he places the mug on the table. Richie doesn’t fall for his casual motion, hand falling on Eddie’s wrist immediately. “Whoa! What’s this?”

Eddie does some sort of half shrug as he sits down across from Richie. Richie picks up the mug and admires it. It’s got an orange glaze on it with red and yellow accents. It’s really nothing special but Richie seems enamored with it. “You make this, Eds?”

“Not my name, Richie,” he quips, then adds “but yeah.”

Richie traces the designs on the outside and admires the binding and structure of it before sending Eddie a smile that makes him melt from the inside out. Man, he really is fucked, isn’t he?

They talk for a little while as Richie works. Eddie watches those slim fingers as they construct masterpieces from the Earth. Its captivating. Richie asks him questions and Eddie dances around complete truths. He doesn’t want Richie to know where he’s been or why he’s been avoiding the studio.

As Richie drinks his coffee Eddie can feel anxiety bubbling up into his throat. He gets closer and closer to the bottom and eventually he picks the mug up for a final time, gulping down the rest after making a comment about cold coffee being a sin against mankind.

Eddie’s worried Richie doesn’t see it at first. He watches as Richie lowers the mug, eyes trained on Eddie over the rim. Time slows for a moment as the mug starts moving down toward the table and Eddie watches Richie’s eyes shift from his own to the inside of the piece.

There’s literally no going back now.

A small smile creeps over Richie’s face as he sits across from Eddie. Silence passes between the two and Eddie can feel his heart hammering out of his chest. This isn’t the reaction he’d expected. He’d thought Richie would make some snide comment, say something funny, jump up and down in the air. Fuck. Maybe he’d been reading the signals wrong. Maybe Richie flirts with everyone. Maybe he’s destroyed his entire hobby by being a huge fucking idiot. He’s going to have to end his membership and give up pottery forever. No local studio will take him once they hear how intrusive and disruptive he is. He’s going to have to move across the country, change his name, reimagine his entire life. There’s no way he’s going to live down the embarrassment.

“Yes,” Richie whispers. It’s so quiet that Eddie almost can’t hear him over his internal beratement.

“What?” Eddie says back automatically. He’d heard Richie, but just barely. Maybe he’d missed something. Maybe Richie had said something he didn’t hear. Maybe Richie was fucking with him.

“I said yes, Eddie. How about tonight? I can close up a few hours early or maybe Bill can come in to close. Does seven work for you?”

Oh. Fuck. It actually worked.

“Yeah!” Eddie replies, too loud and too excited but somehow it Richie doesn’t startle. He looks at Eddie with an equal amount of excitement, just barely contained behind his own eyes.

“Okay, yeah, cool. Perfect. Meet me back here at 6:45, yeah?” Richie says fast. His hands fly around the table before he grabs a hunk of clay and starts pressing his fingers into it. It’s a nervous tick, Eddie thinks, but somehow it’s cute as hell.

“Yes. Perfect. Okay. Yeah. I’ll see you then,” Eddie says and then pushes up. He shrugs his jacket on and makes for the door. When he glances over his shoulder he sees Richie holding the mug he made, smile so wide it looks like it could tear his face into two. He’s staring into the mug where Eddie had carved out one simple word.

Dinner?

Tag List: 

@tinyarmedtrex @richardtoz @aizeninlefox @thestralskies @chocolatemangoose @jem-carstairs-is-perfection @studpuffin @oldguybones @its-stranger-than-you-think @honeybeehanlon @recycle-byn

[measuringlife]

Measuring Me: Buuuut After This Week Things Will Slow Down a Bit

Week of August 4: My Birthday!  And Bad News

Lots of celebrations including friend visiting from all over the place. I get a call while at the African American History Museum while touring with dear friends and their baby who are in from Boston that my Mom is in the hospital with a broken hip. Kept birthday festivities scheduled as planned, including Jazz in the Garden with a wonderful crowd of friends who made me feel so supported and loved.

Week of August 11: Long Island NY - Round 1

I flew up to NY on Sunday night towards the tail end of my Boston's friends trip. It was grueling deciding if I should rush up there or not, but looking back I made the right decision. I couldn't handle all the business I needed to handle until Monday anyway. It was a flurry of hospitals, rehabs, doctors, etc. There was also going into my Mom's house after having not been inside for close to 2 years. My sister and I who had a falling out in the spring, made amends and were off to the races. Banks, respite housing, lawyers, notaries, a lot was handled in a short bit of time. Let's not forget I flew back to DC on Wednesday with a new addition, my mom's 4-year-old Chorkie (Chihuahua/Yorkie), Louie is ours indefinitely. 

Week of August 18: Fall Welcome Events, and Senior Living Tours

When I wasn't running 3 large orientations, onboarding a new grad student, supporting other major Welcome/Back to school events I was researching and email independent senior living communities near-ish me. Mom was surprisingly agreeable to not go back to the house she's lived in for 40 years and move down to be near me. However, finding the right spot was a multistep task. I wound up visiting 3 places this week and 2 more places the next. I also squeezed in a Hanson concert, and ACA meeting, a 90-minute massage as well as a mani/pedi this week. I've learned I need to take care of me before I can take care of anyone else!

Week of August 25: Grad classes, Vet visits, Musicals, Wedding calls, More Senior Living Tours, and back up to NY

This week was the first work of classes where I work, which was also the first week of classes for me as a brand new grad student! I had 2 classes, one Wed and one Thurs from 5:30pm-8pm. I actually had to race out of my first class which thankfully let out a little early to uber to the Kennedy Center to see am 8pm performance of Dear Evan Hansen - it was amazing! I also visited the last 2 senior living options for mom that week and had 2 Lisbon-based wedding planner calls. One planner was great, but her price tag was steep. One planner was rude and made me feel dumb. I had a wedding planning meltdown, but had a good chat with my dear friend SC who helped me re-group. I've been building (and will continue to build) a nice pot of wedding/honeymoon money. However, when I think about all the side hustles and sacrifices I've made for a lot of this money I don't want to blow it on "a party" that usually has more bells and whistles than we are interested in. So I'm hoping to plan a celebration vacation with loved ones and I'm working with a travel agent friend of mine. I spent Labor Day weekend back in NY, this time I drove - I left as the sun rose on Saturday morning and had a full weekend of bank nonsense, errands, got Mom settled in her "respite" stay at an assisted living community, went over senior living options with Mom, and going through my childhood bedroom - including my sister and I wearing our prom dresses. We took Freddie off all his meds because he health has not been improving and it seems the meds were only making him feel sicker - the change has actually seemed to help outwardly, but still super stressful. Also, poor Louie got neutered this week and was in a cone of shame for 2 weeks!

Week of September 1: NY, Grad School, Hiking, and Pump Official

I was in NY until Tuesday and then drove back down, I had another week of two grad classes, but after sitting through my second nutrition class I was sure that it was too much science and more work than I could handle. I ended up dropping that class before the add/drop period ended and felt relieved. I did another visit to Mom's top two senior living choices to view the exact rooms that were open. I also made time for fitness. I got a permanent gig teaching Body Pump on Fridays at 6pm, I had been long term subbing the class since April, but the instructor decided to give it up and I got to take it over! The half-semester Urban Hiking class I teach started this week, which has once again proven to be a delightful highlight in my life! I also squeezed in another concert too!

Week of September 8: Fitness, Mercedes Bastards, Injury, and Friend Dates

I kicked off the week with an all-day AFAA (Athletics and Fitness Association of American) continuing ed workshop that I had already postponed once due to my crazy schedule. It was really great though, I'm glad I went. I signed papers on a place for Mom which didn't come without its own Mom drama - but at least it was relatively mild. I squeezed in a couple of friends dates: manicures with AL, walk with LH, and a dinner date LB. I was still chugging through my one grad class, but having some concerns about if this program was the right direction for me, it's much more Public Health-oriented than the Fitness and Wellness aspect of health I'm truly interested in. I had a bunch of petsitting clients and have had them during all the previous crazy weeks. I already separately about the ordeal with my Mom's leased car, but Mercedes are crooks! I had toyed with officially taking over the lease, but there is like a $1500 transfer fee that "they can't waive." There's no way they are getting a penny more than we have to pay. I made a bunch of calls to NY based insurance folks I know as well as talked to my mom's insurance agency and my insurance agency to make sure when I start driving her car everything is squared away. Also, this week my colleague aka one other coworker because I manage an office of two had a personal injury that had her out of the office for about a week. As I well know, life happens, but it started to feel like when it rains it pours....

Week of Sept 15: Drag Brunch, Euro Trips, a Resignation, and Back to NY for an Explosive Visit

I kicked off this week with a highly anticipated Sunday Funday with some fabulous work friends. I got all dolled up and headed to a drag brunch in DC which led to gay bar-hopping on a beautiful afternoon. Despite making my way home at 6pm, I still felt like trash most of Monday, but thankfully I was off. I did have my first celebration vacation in Portugal call with my friend DR who is a travel agent. It was a really exciting call and the fact that I know DR already makes things a lot easier. We have a plan for me to make the most of my scouting trip in November which is a relief. I was having a particularly busy week and was just pushing through until we get Mom moved, when my coworker (aka person 2 of our 2 person department) drop a bomb on me, she got a new job and is resigning effective 10/10 which is 3 weeks notice. I can say I'm surprised she's a great employee, had a tough job, and has been with me for almost 2.5 years. I was more shocked by her not giving me any sort of heads up. I went to a tailspin back in Jan 2017 when the other half of my office left and I was alone. Thankfully I am not 5 months into my job like I was then, this time of year is honestly "the best" time to be short-staffed and I am looking to do a re-org that hopefully would make things even better in the future. However, it means a lot more work on me all the way around. I head back to NY via train this time! I actually had my Urban Hiking class start and end at Union Station which made for a great hike and for me to easily make a 4:15pm train. Saturday night was just pizza and wine with my sister. Sunday we headed to Long Island to see my Mom. We needed a durable power of attorney signed - the one we did when my Mom was first in the hospital didn't cover as much as we need and my sister and I need the power to act on my Mother's behalf independently since I'll be handling VA business and my sister is handling NY business. My sister has a friend who is a notary and the friend was also going to on LI visiting family and agreed to come to Mom's assisted living place to have us all sign paperwork. Well, my Mom out of the blue demanded cigarettes and wine before agreeing to sign the papers. This was extremely hurtful. Most of you know my Mother is an alcoholic. Did she fall down down the stairs and break her hip because she was drunk, it's possible. Has her drinking made my life a nightmare especially the last few years? Yes. Having her hospitalized and in the care of others meant she wasn't drinking, she was actually taking her meds, and she had company and therefore didn't need to call me all the G-D time. Well, apparently my Mom's sister bought her cigarettes the week the before (WHY?!?!). My Mom was having bullshit anxiety over an eye doctor appointment because for the 15th time she's convinced she's going blind (she's not, she's fine). She NEEDED the wine and cigarettes and threw a tantrum right in the lobby, right in front of my sister's notary friend (who at least knows some of my Mom's craziness), it was horrifying and embarrassing. My sister started crying and here I am trying to keep it together. I tried to explain to Mom that her drinking was hurtful to us, especially since we've both dropped everything to tend to her situation. I explained that it feels like she is choosing wine over us and she didn't deny it. I needed these papers signed so I conceded and said after we did house stuff that day I'd take her to buy cigarettes, but I don't want to be anywhere near her when or soon after she's been drinking. After some more bank business and errands, I dropped her at a liquor store (walker and all) to get herself her precious wine. I told her I needed to cool off and needed a break from her for a few days, I would call her when I was ready. 

Week of September 22: Grad School Drop Out, Wedding Planning, & Car Sales

As I drove back to DC on Monday knowing that I didn't get a chance to do my reading for grad school or work on a paper, I felt stressed (plus the stress of driving my Mom's brand new Mercedes 300 miles to DC as essentially it's maiden voyage). I have so much stress on between Mom stuff, being an office of one, wedding stuff and just general life I was at my max. The class was something I could do something about. I emailed the professor asking for an extension (I automatically have more compassion for my students now), but also let him know I was investigated dropping the class. Since add/drop and the refund period was over I was worried that since this class was being paid for my employer's tuition benefit that there might be some major financial implication. I reached out to the department chair and the HR benefits lady. The way the benefits work and the fact I hadn't used them before means I'm not on the hook for the $5000+ tuition or any of the taxes related. There is only a $27 gap that I will pay taxes on, OKAY. So I dropped the class and ultimately withdrew from the grad certificate program. I feel major relief, not only over this semester, but over the next 2 years that I had penciled in grad school for. I quickly realized that the AFAA professional development workshop is more in line with what I want than anything overly academic - I mean I already have a masters. I think eventually may get an AFAA nutrition certificate which is far less intensive and way more applicable than the route I was going to take. Now with my Wednesdays free again, I was able to make my triumphant return to my Adult Children of Alcoholics (ACA) meeting and I was so happy to be there with my people. I also tried to carve out more time this week for wedding stuff. Talked through my new vacation celebration idea with some friends who will be on the invite list, talked more with my travel agent D, and with my friend DM who is traveling with me for the scouting trip. I'm feeling more focused and ready to make decisions. I also sold my 2007 Camry to a coworker who happened to be in the market for a reliable used car, just as I was learning that I would be driving my mom's car and therefore wanted to sell mine. We hit a couple of snags, like the fact that my car's aftermarket tints that came on the car when I bought them were too dark to pass MD inspection. Or that I needed to sign the back of the title over to my friend, the buyer. She learned AFTER spending 3 hours at the DMV, oops! I cleaned the car out and removed my stickers from the window and bumper - that 26.2 sticker did not want to budge!

What will the next 2 weeks hold is yet to be fully seen, but here's the summary I'm expecting

Week of September 29: Senior living lease signing, 1000 last-minute Mom things, ACA, Running a 2,000 person Family/Alumni Weekend, Teaching my last Urban Hiking class of the semester and driving to NY with my fiance T and Freddie (we don't Louie thinking he is going back). 

Week of October 6: Pack up the stuff that's going to VA with my Mom in a U-Haul van T is driving, I'm driving my Mom down (AKA the woman who hasn't left NY state in at least 10 years), move her into her new place, have two last days in the office having transition meeting with my colleague before she leaves on 10/10, I also have birthday celebration plans for T and my friend SL whose birthdays are this week. Also, it's my Mom's birthday so I imagine we'll be taking her out. 

[carryonmywaywardcaptain]

Star-Spangled Douchebag--   Part 2

CarryOnCap Masterlist

Series Masterlist

WC: 1,503

Warnings: none? Some Dean fluff, typical SPN mystery, and no Marvel characters in this one.

A/N: This is a flashback to help set up a little of what was going on in Part 1. Steve will be back in the next part! :) Catch up on Part 1 Here.

[minor edits made 8/4/2020]

A Few Weeks Ago

“Guys, I think I might have something.”

You stopped pacing and tossed the lore book you’d been reading on the war room table. It seemed like it had been ages since you and the boys had caught wind of a case and you were starting to go stir crazy.

As you made your way into the library, you saw that Sam was leaning forward, intently scanning the screen in front of him. Dean had his feet propped up on the table and was cleaning his pistol-- a habit that seemed to become more frequent when he was feeling frustrated or impatient.

“Whatcha got, Sammy?” you asked.

Stopping behind Dean’s chair, you snaked your arms around his shoulders and rested your chin at the crook of his neck. He hummed happily and twisted in your arms to place a soft kiss on your cheek.

“Ugh. Look, I’m glad you guys finally sucked it up and admitted you’re into each other. But can you try to keep the PDA to a minimum?” Sam groaned.

Dean smiled and wrapped a large hand around one of your forearms, holding you in place when you tried to pull away. “C’mon, Sammy. Can’t you be happy for your big bro and prettiest friend?”

“‘Prettiest friend?’” you swatted Dean’s chest lightly with your free hand and wriggled out of his grasp. “And here I thought you liked me for my personality, Casanova.”

Sam rolled his eyes while you took a seat in the chair beside Dean. “Of course I’m happy for you two, it’s just...whatever. Ok, so get this. Apparently there’s been so many bizarre incidents in New York City lately that people are demanding answers from the CDC. Everything from higher rates of people going missing to more crime-- and lots of reports of people acting out of character before turning up dead. Basically all the family members, friends, coworkers, or anybody else that knew the suspects say something along the lines of ‘none of us saw this coming,’ ‘they’d never be capable of something like this-- it has to be some mistake.’ The CDC’s claiming there hasn’t been like, an outbreak of anything to cause weird behavior and there’s no reason to panic but--”

“So New Yorkers are stealing stuff and might have a serial killer-- so what?” Dean interrupted. “Doesn’t exactly sound like our kind of thing, Sam.”

“See, that’s what I thought, but something still wasn’t adding up. So I kept looking into it and even for New York the rates are weirdly high. There’s not a link that they can see, but it’s like across the board these incidents are getting more intense. And the last body to turn up? Turns out it was a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent.”

“S.H.I.E.L.D.?” you asked. “Like...real life agents?”

“Yeah,” Sam continued. “And before that, an NYPD officer. There’s been other stuff with ATMs, convenience stores, and now jewelry stores and bank robberies.”

“Could be demons, maybe? Or even--”

“You guys can’t be serious.” Dean kicked his feet down and cut you off. “Do you have any idea how long of a drive that is? It’s gotta be at least 20 hours.”

“Oh, come on. You’re telling me you guys have never made that kind of a drive for a case before? And what if it is something? High stakes robberies and a dead S.H.I.E.L.D. agent? It’s worth checking out, especially since it’s been ages since we’ve had a case. Even if it does turn out to be nothing, we can at least get out of the bunker for a while. And how cool would it be to get out of the Midwest and go some place like New York for a case?? Pleeeaaasseeee?” 

After stating your argument, you leaned over to wrap yourself around Dean’s upper arm. Resting your head on his shoulder, you peeked from under your lashes to give him your very best puppy dog pout.

“She’s got a point, Dean,” Sam said gently. “It’s not like we’ve got anything else going on right now.”

Dean sucked in a large breath and held it for a moment as he debated.

“Fine,” he finally sighed.

“YES!” You jumped out of your chair and pumped one fist in the air like the last scene of The Breakfast Club. “Think we’ll see any of the Avengers? Oh! We should go see the Statue of Liberty!”

Sam laughed as he shut his laptop and rose from his seat. Dean simply shook his head and tried to suppress a smile. When the two of you stood up, he casually slung an arm around your shoulders and guided you down the hall to pack.

***

You groaned, stretching your arms to the sky as you bent this way and that. “Jeez, that was a long drive.”

“Yeah, well whose idea was that?” Dean grumbled as he slammed his door shut.

“Oh, don’t be a Grumpy Gus,” you snapped.

Sam had made some calls to the NYPD to get more information on the robberies, believing they were the best place to start. When you were about 20 miles south of the city limits, he received a call that there had been another bank robbery so you had stopped off at a gas station to change into your FBI clothes before arriving to the scene.

“Agents.” An officer nodded in acknowledgment as the three of you flashed your badges and slipped passed the police barricade. “Your timing is impeccable. I’m Lieutenant Hunt.”

Dean shook the man’s hand as he made introductions. “Lieutenant. I’m Agent Rossington and these are my associates, Burns and Collins. Any leads so far?”

“This one more than past robberies, actually.” He waved for you to follow him and turned to lead the way up the steps into the bank. “I’m surprised the Bureau took an interest in these robberies, but I’ve gotta say I’m glad because I’m at a loss. We’re starting to suspect it’s the work of some sort of organization. Can’t find a link between any of the suspects, but their families are beside themselves. Genuinely believe the individuals were good people and could never do such a thing…”

When he trailed off, you saw Sam snap his head to the side as he made some sort of connection. “Lieutenant, do you happen to know anything about the deceased police officer or S.H.I.E.L.D. agent?”

Lieutenant Hunt cleared his throat and paused before answering. “Not the agent. But the officer… He and I were in the same class at the Academy years ago. Good man. We stayed in touch over the years, even got together with our families for barbecues once in a while. When I heard he’d robbed a jewelry store at one of the shopping centers…”

“You found it hard to believe,” Sam finished for him. Lieutenant Hunt nodded but said nothing more.

You arrived at the security office and the policeman ushered you in the door. “Seems these individuals keep getting bolder. They don’t even bother wearing masks or avoiding cameras. This one is particularly interesting.” 

He motioned to the security guard to play the footage of the robbery. A woman entered the front of the bank with a large automatic weapon in hand. She fired a few rounds in the air, prompting the patrons to panic and duck to the ground with their hands in the air. She pointed the weapon at one of the tellers, presumably demanding money. When the bag was full, she looked up at one of the cameras with a smirk before darting down a side corridor.

“We know who she is?” Dean asked.

“That’s where it gets interesting,” Lieutenant Hunt answered. “We looked her up and she’s a lower level S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. Does some sort of data entry over at the Avengers Tower. Turns out she didn’t show up to work yesterday or this morning. She was in and out of here in just under 15 minutes and we’ve got no clue where she exited the building from. None of the alley or street cameras picked her up after she slipped through an office door in that side hall.”

“Can you run it back again and freeze on her face?” you asked.

The lieutenant quirked an eyebrow. “We already identified her but, uh, sure.”

The security guard ran the footage back and let it play through once more before hitting pause--at the precise moment her eyes flashed white. Dean shared a look with Sam before glancing at you. He licked his lips and pressed them into a firm line, trying to hide his impressed smile.

“Damn technology,” the guard muttered. He hit play before immediately pausing it again and the woman’s eyes returned to normal. “There we go.”

“Thank you, gentlemen,” you said while committing the woman’s face to memory. “I think it’s time we pay a little visit to the Avengers.”

Part 3

CarryOnCap Crew (Forevers):

@abswritesfandoms​  @ain-t-bovvered​  @amanda-teaches​  @anjiep24​  @babyimp1967​  @because-imma-lady-assface​  @cassieraider​ ​  @deangirl7695​  @disagreetoagree  @droidyouseek​  @emoryhemsworth​  @ericaprice2008​  @fandomoniumflurry​  @flawless-disaster​  @grace-for-sale​  @growningupgeek​  @hooked-onfandoms​  @i-dont-give-a-buck​  @jenn0755​  @katsanders​  @kileybird​  @loneliestlittlerainbow​  @memyselfandmaddox​  @msgreenverse​  @obsessivecompulsivespn​  @olkathefoxi​  @pickupthatamulet  @princess76179  @sandlee44​  @sarahisalright  @sea040561  @sixweekcure4dreams​  @someday-when-you-leave-me​  @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan​  @thewinterserpent​  @thisisbullshytt   @waywardbaby​  @waywardnerd67​  @waywardrose13​  @whimsicalrobots​  @wonderfulworldofwinchester​  @wonderfulwinchestersmut​

Cap’s Marvel Crew:

@amoonagedaydreamer​  @asguardiansoftheavengers​  @bucky-and-loki​  @goddesspeggycarter  @hdthdthdt​  @hottrashformarvel​  @marbleowl​  @palaiasaurus64​  @scarlettsoldier​  @selina-kyle89​  @tbetz0341​ @universal-death-of-a-fangirl​  @the-wayward-robot​  @wintersoldierbaby​ @maresmiley

Cap’s SPN Crew

@andkatiethings  @charliebradbury1104  @dean-winchesters-bacon  @julesthequirky  @lifelovelaughangell123  @neganismyobsession  @pisces-cutie  @salt-n-burn-em-all  @sis-tafics

@vandread1989 @itsstillnotwhatyouthink @time-travel-bouqet @tfw-dungeonparty @drakelover78 @ilovetaquitosmmmm @hdthdthdt @the-salty-asian @sammedrano @cosicas-cuquis @lookuptheskyisfalling-blog @our-jensen-ackles-love @pufferfishlullabies @sssshhresearching @mythrealfan @kornerstone234 @disneymarina @kesnoz @palaiasaurus64 @prettybubblesintheair @stunudo @angelkurenai @shadowsndaisies @redsalv20 @10-inch-snackles @shynara51

[kiarazuri]

Writer Meme!

Tagged by @sarahviehmann!

1. How many works in progress do you have?

Oh gods . . . don't ask me that question . . . my main focus is The Sunshower Duology which is my Rapunzel retelling. I'm currently editing the third(?) draft of Book 1 and am drafting Book 2. I'm also working on the second draft of Book 1 in a Cinderella retelling trilogy that doesn't yet have a title. Those, at the moment, are the most pertinent books in my collection.

2. Do you/would you write fan fiction?

I used to; mostly Supernatural. I don't anymore but if I ever were to go back to it I'd like to finish my Supernatural/Twilight mash-up fic (don't judge). I finished book 1 but never got through book 2. Maybe one day.

3. Do you prefer paper books or ebooks?

I prefer paper but I do like having multiple books on hand without having to lug them around (I already carry like 10 pounds of stuff 24/7).

4. When did you start writing?

So, I have remnants of stories from childhood and character bunnies from middle school locked away in my closet but I didn't actually start writing until Freshman year of high school . . . with a Twilight fanfic. Everything goes back to Twilight, which is why I both hate and love it.

5. Do you have someone you trust that you share your work with?

My best friend used to beta read everything I wrote. I hope one day that'll happen again but at the moment I share my writing with my friend Rowan and a coworker Ezra – who have very different jobs when it comes to their criticism and review.

6. Where is your favorite place to write?

The Starbucks by my house. They have these gorgeous huge round tables and the chairs are these tall stools which help with my leg and back pain and it's in a corner next to the bathroom and I can see all the exits and I'm next to the drink pick-up area and it's just – so good. I love it. It's also right next to the beach!

7. Favorite book as a child?

8. Writing for fun or publication?

Both. I would like to publish my work but don't want writing to be my main career because I feel like I'd start to hate it.

9. Have you taken any writing classes?

Apart from my English and Lit courses, no. My love of writing grew out of my love of reading and storytelling (although, random tidbit – I'm TERRIBLE at oral storytelling.)

10. What inspired you to write?

The short answer is: Twilight.

The long answer is: Back in 8th grade (Fall 2007) I got Twilight from my Scholastic Book Fair and started gobbling them up. (This was before the movies and I think also before Breaking Dawn came out) I liked them and got through them really quickly so I recommended them to a friend who had terrible dyslexia and at the time had been both panicking because her reading skills were affecting her grades as well as sad because she liked reading books but her dyslexia stopped her. So, when I read Twilight I thought “Hey! This is easy to read and understand and it's about romance and vampires!” (Which I knew my friend liked) So I recommended it. She got hooked. At the beginning tho her reading skills were still low so she asked me to read to her (we would sit down in the Library courtyard at lunch and I would read aloud to her) and then summer came and I wasn't there to read for her. So she had to fend for herself - and fend she did. Her reading ability went up at least 2 grade levels just in that one summer it was fantastic. When we returned for High School in Fall 2008 Breaking Dawn had just come out and we were FREAKING OUT. We kept making headcanons and coming up with ways for the book to improve and basically – we kept telling each other little fanfictions that we would make up in our heads. And one day we came to school and were like – “wait, why don't we write these down and let each other read them?” So basically, that's how I started writing fanfiction. From there it barrel-rolled into original stories.

For this meme iono how many I’m supposed to tag so I'm gonna just tag 5: @brynwrites @flo-lore-writes @typeaadventures @thewritehag @mywritingnarwhal

[kookieseyes]

I hate you │4

summary:  You and Jungkook get close while doing the assignment until something changes member: Jeon Jungkook x reader genre: fluff, romance, angst word count: 2538 warnings: fuckboy!Jungkook badboy!Jungkook  I hate you Masterlist   │ 1 │ 2 │ 3 │ 4 │ 5 │ 6 │

A/N: Thank you, everyone, for loving this story. I’m so grateful to all of you, I never expected the response to be this good, because this is the first fic I’ve written. I’d really appreciate it if anyone gave me an honest feedback. Anyway, here’s the part 4 and as always, I already have the next one planned. 

“I’m sorry, what?!”-Ava wasn’t exactly thrilled when she heard what you’d done last night. “So you left early yesterday to talk to him?”-she asked while you were about to grab two cups of coffee from the coffee machine for both of you

“Yes, and it went quite well”-you answered, purposely avoiding eye contact so that Ava wouldn’t catch your thoughts about how walking up to Jungkook was definitely a bold decision. “When did you say you were going to meet?” “I haven’t texted him yet, so we still need to figure it out”-you said and felt how your phone started buzzing in your pocket. Both of your hands were occupied by hot coffee so you motioned to Ava to pick it up instead of you. “Are you sure about that?”-Ava’s surprised and dismayed expression shifted from your phone to your confused face. “What are you talking about?”-now you were getting nervous, why did she have to make that face as if the end of the world was coming soon.

“Explain”-she shoved the phone into your face. It was so close you had to take a step back to make out the blurred lines on the screen. It was a reminder you had set yesterday: 

“Today, at 3, meet Jungkook in the library”

“Huh? But I didn’t...Oh, no, I must have texted him while I was drunk yesterday” “you don’t say, just check your messages”-she clicked her tongue as if she couldn’t believe you. “No need, I remember texting him”-your voice was barely audible, making your embarrassment obvious.

“Girl, you seriously need to stop doing stupid shit! Stay away from him as much as you can, you know better than anyone he’s not a good news.How much time do you have left anyway?” “If the reminder is correct, about ten minutes”

“Then go, you don’t want to keep your partner waiting, do you?”-She said teasingly, while undoubtedly feeling sorry as she watched your misery

It took you at least twenty minutes to get to the opposite side of the campus where the library was. By the time you got there, you were out of breath. You might’ve been lacking in many things but you were never late. You opened a door leading to a big hallway, just to be blinded by the sun, shining from the other side of the hall. You were too busy shadowing your eyes to see the black outline of the figure coming towards you. 

“Ms. Perfect is late, how come?”-it was Jungkook’s voice. Did he actually get here on time? “Aren’t bad boys supposed to be lazy, how did you get here on time?”-you tried to avoid the subject. “I didn't, I just came in from the other side”-of course, he was not the punctual type. “We’re even then”-you said and he chuckled as he opened the library door for you to go ahead of him. You couldn’t deny that his chuckle made you smile too.

“So what’s the plan?”-he asked as soon as you sat down. “I was thinking, maybe write entries in the diary one by one, write one day and then give it to the other person to continue”-that way you wouldn't have to be in each other's company that much-”But we would still have to meet up from time to time, you know, to make sure we’re both following the plot” 

You discussed what both of you wanted to write about and decided that your plan was the best. He listened to you with no objections, paying attention to every single word you told him and offered his opinion.  You were pleasantly surprised by discovering how smart he was, it was the first time you saw his quiet and serious side. That was the first one of your weekly meetings and occasional ones in the middle of the week if something was not going according to a plan.

    Your next meeting was on Saturday, you were working a morning shift at a cafe and told him to come there in the second half of the day. Next customer walked up to you, you were busy placing money from the previous one in the cash register so you asked him without looking

“What would you like, sir?-sounding cheerful and being a paragon of an excellent employee

“Sure, Sir sounds better than a jerk”-you immediately stiffened after recognizing the noise and embarrassing yourself once more.

“Jungkook, it’s you!” you said as if it wasn’t obvious enough

“Hello to you too, can I get one Americano and one, what it is you like?” “You don’t have to, I get free coffee whenever I want”-why was he being so nice, it was bothering you for some reason, him not being his typical self. “All right, when are you done? “In ten”-you answered and heard how your co-workers started sneaking glances at the boy you were talking to. He sat close to the window with a cup of Americano and occupied a seat in front of him for you.

“Are you guys dating or something?”-one of your co-workers asked with clearly evident attraction towards Jungkook in her eyes. “No, no, we’re not, he’s all yours”-she couldn’t contain her happiness at hearing your words as she one more time looked at the boy, oblivious about what you two were talking about.

Your shift was over now, you got changed into your casual clothes and sat in front of Jungkook, in the seat he had kept for you. He was now halfway done with his drink, blowing into a straw to make air bubbles with the remaining liquid in the cup. At that moment he looked the most childlike you’d ever seen him. You wanted to scold him for playing with his drink and couldn’t help yourself but smile at how innocent he seemed. When he noticed your reaction, he immediately stopped as if he got caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to do.

“I’ll take your cup if you’re done”-your nosy coworker who talked to you just a few minutes ago approached your table. She started shamelessly flirting with him, dropping a pen by “mistake”, just to bend over in a suggestive manner. She stood up and sneaked a neatly folded paper into a boy’s hand sitting in front of you. In response, he snickered and slowly put the paper in his pocket.

“Fuckboy alert!-you said and fake coughed after seeing the scene being played out in front of you. He looked up at you not with angered expression as you had expected, but with genuine amusement

"Fuckboy alert?? I didn't know that was a thing"

"Yes, I have a fuckboy radar"-you announced proudly

"You must've known from the beginning who I was then"-he raised an eyebrow and waited for your response.

"I did, for your information, the first time I saw you in class"

"You mean the first time you couldn't take your eyes off of me?"

"huh?"-you said flustered, not liking the way he had caught you off guard

“Don’t play dumb, I saw the way you looked at me”-you were dumbfounded, why did he have to bring that up? “You did? I don’t know what you want me to say then, we all make mistakes”-you nervously shifted in the seat and shrugged your shoulders to make your words more believable. “No need to be embarrassed, I thought you were cute too, the way you looked away when I caught you looking at me”-what? he thought you were cute? “Don’t flatter yourself, that doesn’t mean I think of you the same way”-you quickly made yourself clear “Same here”-he said and shook his head in a slow motion

The conversation between you easily started flowing, never having a moment of awkward silence. He was funny and interesting to talk to and was not that bad if you looked over his fuckboy side, but it was too big to ignore. Maybe you were starting to hate him less, even not hating him at all.

Your work was going well, you were ahead of the schedule already having written about ten entries into the diary. You had a whole system set up, one handed over the diary to the other in the hallway and set a new date for meeting and discussing plans for next entries. Meeting places always changed, once when you had nowhere to go Ava offered you both came over to her place. She wanted to know how it was going between you two. She had a roommate but she was out of town. You sat down on the floor with Jungkook. You noticed Ava and her roommate didn’t have enough money to buy furniture. The only couch was already occupied by Ava herself. She just sat there reading a book but occasionally you caught her looking at you two. Every time Jungkook shifted, every time he got closer to you to check what you wrote, every time he made a comeback to your remark you saw Ava raising her eyebrows and smiling to herself. “You can’t say it’s “fairly freezing””-you pointed at the sentence he wrote “Why not?” “Because it’s either freezing or not, it’s not gradable”-you said as if it was the most important thing to discuss. “Well, maybe the person we’re writing the diary about doesn’t know that”-he would never, ever let you win any argument. It was a game between you. “you want her to be dumb like you?”-You pointed your finger at him. “So if you don’t know whether an adjective is gradable or not you’re dumb?”-he did have a point, but no way in hell you were gonna let him win. “No, I was referring to you being dumb in general, this being just one example”

“Okay, smartass does “utterly” work?-he rolled his eyes at you.  “Yup, “utterly freezing”-you said satisfied with yourself. You won this round.   “Geez, you’re so picky”-said Ava, entertained by you two bickering “I know, right? Is she always like that?”-Jungkook turned around to ask the girl still cuddled on the sofa.

“You tell me, you spend more time with her nowadays than I do”-Of course, Ava had to make a pungent comment to get on your nerves. And she succeeded at it.

“Not my fault if she can’t refrain from seeing me”- As if your best friend going against you wasn’t enough, Jungkook had to team up with her against you. “Hey you jerk, I’m right here!” You snapped your fingers in front of his face to get his attention.

“I can see that!”-he grabbed your wrist and got it away from his face. You struggled to free your hand from his grip and gripped his wrist in return “Do you have a death wish?”

“Guys, can you keep it down? Some people are trying to read”-You let go of each other’s hands and returned to your positions, his touch still lingering on your wrist, sending a weird sensation to your stomach and you could tell he felt something similar judging by how hesitantly he let go of your hand and looked you in the eyes, as if he was trying to read your mind. The movement didn’t go unnoticed by Ava either because as soon as Jungkook left and you were the only two remaining in the room she bombarded you with questions:

“What the actual fuck? What was that?” “What do you mean?”-you decided to play dumb, maybe she’d let you off the hook more easily

“Don’t you dare make that innocent face, spill everything”-she wouldn’t settle for your shallow explanation until she strained every bit of information from you. “There’s nothing to say, you know how he flirts with everyone” “I know, but it’s not about him flirting, it’s about you reacting to him”-you didn’t even try to deny it.

“Okay, maybe snapping fingers at him was too much, but..” “But? Just admit it already, you like him, don’t you? “What? No! If there’s anyone who knows how much I hate him, it’s you, you know that” “I believe you, Y/N, I just don’t want you getting hurt, okay?” “I won’t I promise, once the assignment’s done, I won’t have to see him anymore”-you always knew you had to stop at some point, but saying it out loud made it more real. The assignment would eventually be over and then you wouldn't have any reason to see him any longer.

The following day you didn’t have to meet in person. He had to write the next entry and give it to you in class but he never came and didn’t answer neither your texts or calls. You were about to call him again to ask for a diary when you saw him talking with others, phone in his hand. So he was ignoring you on purpose. Obviously, he wanted to avoid you but you were in a hurry to go to work and couldn’t wait anymore. 

“Jungkook” “What?”-he turned around and asked you in a stern voice

“I need the diary back”-he rolled his eyes in an annoyed manner as if you were interrupting something important “Follow me”-he said without changing his tone, not even looking at you in the eyes. You were close to his car when you noticed dark red line forming on the other side of his face “Oh my god, you’re bleeding”-he slowly raised his hand and touched his face to wipe the blood away-”Are you okay, what’s wrong with you? “Nothing”

“Bleeding is not nothing”-you were genuinely concerned, something bad definitely had happened to him “I said it’s nothing, It’s none of your business, okay? Take what you came for and go”-he opened the car door and threw the diary in your hands” “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” “Just go”-his voice was cold and rough, eyes radiating with the same annoyance You didn’t need to be told again. You realized as you were walking away from him that tears had heated up your cheeks, you felt humiliated and stupid for believing he had changed and most of all for being dumb enough to let his words hurt you... again.   It had to stop, so you didn’t bother to see his messages when he texted or pick up when he called you ten times in a row. The worst thing was that you weren’t even angry at him, you were mad at yourself for knowing what was coming and yet still falling into his trap.

[ichigopanhpff]

Ignis x Reader Fic: Next To You Pt. 6

Whoa. All the new follows. The power of the Discord App. I bow to thee.

Here’s part 6! I’m gonna get pelted with tomatoes for this. Or more followers xD;

And Happy St. Patty’s Day. Take care of your liver, folks.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9

(Y/N) let out a frustrated growl and absent-mindedly stared at her screen full of code. She grabbed Kwehvin Lockhart, her rubber chocochick, from her desk and tossed it between her hands.

“What’s wrong?” Salome, one of her colleagues passing by enquired. “Just… stuff I can’t sort out in my head,” (Y/N) grumbled. “Wanna talk about it?” she asked, expecting the developer to decline the offer as usual. “I know you usually hash it out with Kwehvin, but maybe an organic being can help this time.”

She suddenly slumped over and placed her forehead on her desk with a muffled thud, seemingly losing all forms of motivation to do anything.

“Talking is exactly what I need to do, but can’t confront it,” she groaned out, softly banging her head. Her coworker raised an interested yet surprised eyebrow at (Y/N)’s response. “I hate feelings. Why can’t I just numb it all away?” she whined. “That’s called being a substance abuser, love,” her coworker pointed out. “Maybe you should just sleep with ‘em,” a voice called out two desks over. “Shut up, Chris! No one asked you!” (Y/N) raised her head and barked with annoyance. She threw Kwehvin at him and the inanimate object hit the top of his head with an innocent squeak. “Ow! Hostile work environment!” he cried out as the object bounced off somewhere.

Sleeping with Ignis was the last thing on her mind! He’s not a random booty call; he’s her confidante, her person!

“I’m just sayin’...” Chris chimed in, rubbing the area the chocochick hit. “Yet he continues to talk...” (Y/N)’s coworker off-handedly commented. “Maybe some physical contact’ll help sort ya out. I mean, when was the last time you got laid?” (Y/N) turned to Salome and asked, “This counts as sexual harassment, right?” “Yeah.” “Kwehvin was a warning shot. Don’t make me take out the rubber band launcher and decimate you.” “Davin and Oz wouldn’t allow this!” Chris complained. “Or would they?” Salome chimed in with a smirk. “What HR won’t know won’t hurt ‘em.” “But you’re HR!” “I saw nothing,” Salome coolly responded. “Unless you’d like to go on record for the ‘sleeping with him’ part, then I’ll really be listening.”

Chris merely wordlessly sputtered and hunched back down into his seat in disbelief. Regardless of what she decides to do, she’d have to eventually talk with him. He’s leaving in two days!

–

Ignis irritably clicked his tongue and leaned down to pick up some paperwork that spilled onto the marble hallway. With their departure coming up, he needed to sort his mind out. What compelled him to kiss back when (Y/N) leaned in? Why was he finding himself increasingly flustered whenever she was around?

All these questions and no answers was seriously affecting his performance; he even broke his coffee bean grinder from using too much pressure this morning!

The cafe he got his caffeine fix from wasn’t any better. It did him no justice and thought they should be run out of town with the way they roasted and ground their beans. They practically desecrated the purity of the bean by blooming the grounds with scorching hot water! Scorching! No properly prepared morning coffee makes Ignis Scientia an intensely volatile man.

Noct saw his hunched figure and walked over to help.

“You alright, specs?” the prince asked. “You’re in rare form today.” “It would seem so,” the adviser replied. “I didn’t get much sleep last night.” “Worried about the trip?” “Not really. Everything’s going according to plan there.” “Then…?” “Nothing that would warrant royal attention.”

Noct hummed with a tone of interest when he noticed light bags under his adviser’s eyes behind his spectacles. They stood back up after getting his paperwork back in order and made their way down the hall.

“So, what else do we need to do before we head out?” he changed the topic. “You need to clean out and pack up your belongings in your apartment,” Ignis reminded him. “Be sure to do it properly.” “Yeees,” he lazily replied and placed his arms behind his head.

As they walked on, Noct took his phone out and there was a notification at the top of his screen. He softly exclaimed with excitement.

“What’s wrong, Noct?” “The new patch for ‘King’s Knight’ released!” he spoke with child-like joy. “And new skill sets for my character class! Whoa! Melee Assassin?! That sounds cool!” “Is that so?” “(Y/N) didn’t tell you?” “She told me she was working on it, but the project itself was kept under wraps.” “I guess there’s a lotta things she can’t say given her position at the company.” “Knowing her, she’d want it to be perfect before she sent the script to the senior engineers for a final sign off.” “Sounds like someone I know,” Noct joked. “Anyway, how’s she doing? I haven’t seen her since the party.” “She’s been occupied as of late,” he fibbed. “And we have our trip coming up too… Guess it’ll be tough to meet up.” “You wanted to see her?” “Kinda… I wanted to ask her more stuff ‘bout the game,” Noct sheepishly replied. “It was fun talking with her, even if her family were assassins.” “They only killed when necessary,” Ignis corrected and pushed his spectacles up. “They were mostly for reconnaissance and surveillance.” “But couldn’t she have changed things around for them if she joined the council?” “That’s the optimistic way of thinking, yes. Should (Y/N) have pursued a political career, her parents would’ve abused her title and used it to their advantage. That’s what she says, at least.” “You’ve never met her family?” “We’re more rivals than anything.” “How’d your parents take it when they found out you two are friends?” “They were admittedly reserved in getting to know her at first, but then realized she was… different.” “Different how?” “Unlike her older siblings, she didn’t have the darkness they have. That’s how they explained it to me, at least. They, too, were surprised to hear when she dropped out.” “She did have it tough.”

Ignis’ phone suddenly vibrated in his pocket, interrupting their chatter. He took it out to see a message notification on it.

“Speak of the devil...” “Sure she’s not spying on you?” “I do wonder sometimes...” He trailed off and locked his phone. “I’ll reply to her later.”

–

(Y/N) huffed a breath with puffed cheeks and rested on a shaded park bench. Insomnia was warmer than usual today. She decided to take the week off from work since she had so much vacation time saved up. Even though her left arm healed faster than expected with barely any scarring, the muscles were still a little sore from all the action. She made a mental note to pay more attention to her workout routine and do more strength training.

Wiping the sweat glistening her forehead with her arm, she rolled up the sleeves to her three-quarter t-shirt. Releasing a breath of minor relief, she reached into one of her grocery bags and took out a bottled juice. Fanning herself with her hand, she sipped her drink and people watched.

“Hey, (Y/N)!” someone cheerfully greeted from the side. She turned to see Prompto with his camera in hand. “Do ya want some company?” “Sure. Thirsty?”

Prompto nodded with enthusiasm as she reached into a grocery bag and handed him a bottle of Jetty’s. He thanked her and casually chugged it. He noticed some of her fingertips were bandaged up.

“Whoa! What happened there?” he asked with concern. “Hm?” She mumbled with a mouth full of juice looked down to where he was staring at. “Oh. Tips are just a bit sore from making stuff,” she answered after swallowing. “You sure you’re okay?” “I’ll live,” (Y/N) replied with a soft smile. “What brings you ‘round here?” he asked. “Decided to go buy real food. There’s only so much instant ramen a girl can take.” “Gladio would say otherwise,” he joked. “Are you sure you’ll be able to carry those bags yourself?” “I’ll manage,” she reassured.

She looked up at a clock tower in the distance.

“Ah, I gotta head back. I think I have ice cream in there.”

(Y/N) finished her drink and threw out her bottle out in the trash bin. Reaching for her bags, Prompto stood and grabbed the rest.

“I’ll help you carry these. I got nothing else to do,” he offered.

She thanked him and made their way out of the park.

“Did I interrupt your shooting schedule today?” she asked and gestured to Prompto’s camera with her eyes. “Oh, no! Not at all. I was gonna go around and take a few shots to get my mind off of some stuff,” he replied. “But nothing was really inspiring today.” “What’ve you been worrying about?” she asked and paused. “A-Ah, that is, if you wanna say.”

What was she doing, casually prying into this guy’s life? Did hanging out with Gladio for a day rub off on her already? That man’s a bad influence, she told herself. “Well, I just finished the Crownsguard training recently,” he disclosed. “And I’m kinda nervous ‘bout the results.”

Whoa. He actually opened up to her. That’s... scary, she thought. “If you’ve gotten this far, you’re a shoo-in.” “I guess, but I can’t help but think maybe they see I’m not ready and I can’t leave with everyone...”

(Y/N) stopped in her steps and turned to Prompto with a serious expression.

“They chose you to be the prince’s bodyguard alongside the King’s Shield and Adviser over everyone else in the field. So stand up and man up!”

She firmly smacked him on the arm and flinched on the painful contact. The blond boy looked up to see a wry grin on her face.

“You’re stronger than you think. Don’t let anyone else tell you otherwise.”

She walked on as he stood there dumbfounded yet encouraged.

“You forget how to walk? Food’s gonna spoil!” (Y/N) called out and snapped him out of his thoughts. After a short 10-minute stroll, they reached her apartment building.

“I’m sure you’re used to luxurious condos with elevators and stuff, but my building’s a walk-up,” she revealed. “Mind climbing a few flights?” “I jog every morning. This is cakewalk.”

Prompto and (Y/N) made it up to the top floor of the building, slightly out of breath with the extra weight.

“Really need to build up my stamina,” she panted out and set her bag of groceries on the floor. “Maybe I should run with you some time.” “I welcome a jogging partner,” he beamed a smile at (Y/N).

After regaining some of her strength back, she took her keys out and let Prompto in. Her loft apartment was surprisingly masculine in design with exposed brick and metal beams. The main features seemed to be the large windows letting natural light in. It was hardly decorated except for a charcoal grey love seat and ottoman set with a dark wooden coffee table and a small dining table set. Her kitchen seemed to be a tight squeeze and looked dated, but was still functional in flow. The only thing close to personal effects were her laptop computer with three rubber chocochicks lined up on the desk at the far end of the living area.

“What’s with the rubber chicks on your desk?” Prompto wondered. “Oh, that’s Warkster, Kwehstina and Mel,” she introduced. “Their sibling, Kwehvin, is at my office. I talk to them every now and then.” “Er, talk?” “Whenever I’m troubleshooting, it helps to talk through the problem to inanimate objects so you’re physically hearing it,” she elaborated while unpacking. “Basically thinking out loud.” “And you named them yourself?” “Well, Ig named ‘Warkster’, ‘Kwehstina’ and ‘Kwehvin’ when he gave ‘em to me as a birthday gift few years ago. I thought it was lame, but it grew on me.” “Sounds like something he’d do,” he chuckled. “You guys are pretty close, aren’t you?” “Not as much as you two; I’m closer with Noct. We’ve been friends since high school.”

The blond boy turned around and realized he was just standing around admiring her place.

“Ah, sorry!” he quickly blurted out. “Where’s my manners? Do you need help with anything?” “You can help wash these vegetables,” she requested with a small smile and wiggled her fingers at him with her palms up. “Can’t get the bandages wet. I can at least cook you dinner to show my thanks for helping.” “Whoo hoo! Home cooked meal!” he cheered with his arms raised up.

While Prompto busied himself with washing duty, (Y/N) checked on the marinating meat in her refrigerator. He nervously glanced over at her.

“You feel like you have something to say,” she blurted out while taking out a pack of bamboo skewers from the drawer. “Hm? What makes you say that?” he feigned innocence. “You’re biting your lower lip and your hands stopped rubbing the pepper you’re holding,” she remarked. “I’m just not sure how to ask the question...” Prompto hesitantly began and placed the clean vegetable in the designated colander bowl. “You ask how you normally do: By spitting it out,” she stated and handed him the skewers to wash. “You don’t mince words, do ya?” he chuckled nervously and sucked in a breath. “When you hacked into the Niflheim database a few years ago… Did you find anything interesting?” “In regards to...?” “Military test subjects...” he softly answered and looked away.

(Y/N) lifted her head up to see Prompto’s form slightly slumped over the sink, his face almost in pain.

“I saw a few things here and there...” she began and heard his breath audibly hitch in his throat. “But nothing specific caught my eye.” “R-Really?” “Was I supposed to?” she enquired with an arched eyebrow of interest. “N-No, no. I was just… wonderin’, that’s all,” the freckled boy finished with an uneasy chuckle. “If there’s one thing I learned from my family, it’s that secrets eventually get found out,” she advised. “If you cherish your friends, they have a right to know.”

Her words seemed to hit him where it hurts as he frowned and looked like he was about to cry.

“And if I do… What if they reject me?” his voice quivered out in fear and tightly gripped the skewers. “What if Noct ends up hating me?” “They won’t.” “And how would you know?” “They let you stick around for this long. What makes you think they’re gonna back down now?”

Prompto looked up to finally meet (Y/N) with a small smile, finding solace in her words.

“Yeah, I guess,” he finally spoke and breathed a sigh of relief. “Sorry I got so serious there.” “It’s fine,” she dismissed with a light shake of her head. “I get how you feel… When you have someone that matters in your life, who validates your existence, you’d do anything for them. Even if you have to keep some things in the dark...” she trailed off.

He felt her shoulders slump down as her hands rested on the countertop.

“Trust in them… Trust they’ll support you no matter what,” (Y/N) firmly finished.

Prompto felt she said that not only for him, but for her own self-assurance for some reason. Before he could pry, their conversation was abruptly interrupted with a knock on the door. She quickly wiped her hands clean before answering it with a mix of confusion and caution.

“Tiny?!” she exclaimed after opening the door. The guard casually greeted (Y/N) with two six packs in hand and let himself into her apartment. “I brought drinks.” “No, please. Come on in. I’m totally up for having guests tonight,” she deadpanned with slumped shoulders and closed the door. “Three questions: What are you doing here? How did you know where I live? You lookin’ to get smashed tonight or somethin’?” “Came to check up to see how you’re doing. I found your address in the Insomnia Residential Archives and maybe,” he answered in order. “Yo, Prompto.” “Oh. Hey, Gladio,” he turned his head and greeted. “Knew I should’ve gone with a monkier,” she muttered to herself.

(Y/N) sighed and knew there was no chance in hell she could kick the Shield and chocobo butt hair out: it was a 2-on-1 match.

“If you’re gonna crash and mooch a meal, I have a rule in my house: you don’t work, you don’t eat. So make yourself useful by washing your hands and cutting up those veggies,” she ordered in an Ignis-esque fashion. “We’re makin’ meat skewers tonight.” “Man, (Y/N). You’re a gal after my heart,” Gladio swooned with a content grin. “Heel, Ubu.” “I don’t do well with cutting, but I can skewer,” Prompto chimed in.

While the two boys busied themselves with prep work, (Y/N) grabbed the packs of beer and placed them into the refrigerator to chill.

“What the hell happened to your fingers?” Gladio asked. “Arts and crafts is what happened.” “From making our stuff?” “Making what now?” Prompto’s ears perked up. (Y/N) groaned followed with a small glare. “Way to keep it quiet.” “Hey, you didn’t say not to say anythin’,” he defended.

She rolled her eyes and shoved the bowl of washed vegetables she picked up from the counter and into Gladio’s hands.

“Just get to cutting.”

She left the kitchen and quickly checked her phone. There was no reply from Ignis yet. Softly sighing to herself, she placed it back onto its charging station. It can’t be helped. They’re busy preparing for their trip and was sure he’s stuck at the Citadel with a ton of loose ends to tie up. At the same time, she couldn’t help but feel he was avoiding her since their accidental kiss.

(Y/N) mentally froze for a second. Was she actually pining after him like a lovesick puppy?! She scoffed.

“Y’alright there, fun size?” Gladio asked. “Yes,” she crisply replied and straightened her back. “Just had a very irritating thought about something.” She paused for a beat. “And now it’s gone.”

With the vegetables properly chopped up, Prompto and Gladio exited the kitchen with the items in hand to assemble dinner together at the dining table. (Y/N) ran back into the kitchen to grab a pair of food preparation gloves. The three skewered while making idle chatter. At one point, Gladio went into the kitchen and grabbed drinks for all of them. When coming back, he saw her glancing at her phone from the corner of her eye.

“Oh by the way, (Y/N),” Gladio spoke to distract her. “How’s your arm doin’?” “Loads better, thanks.” “Er, arm?” Prompto asked in confusion. “Oh, I hurt it the other day. Tiny patched me up,” she breezily mentioned. “Someone tried to kill her,” Gladio translated. “What?!” the perky boy exclaimed. “Assassination attempts come with the family name,” she half-heartedly joked. “But I handled it.” “She mortally wounded her attackers,” the burly man elaborated and handed her and Prompto their beers. “That’s considered a disgrace should any family have seen that,” she added. “We’re required to permanently dispose of any threats; I prefer a different method.” “And that would be?” Prompto asked, almost scared of her answer. “Psychological trauma’s more damaging. Depending on how strong they’re up here...” She pointed to her temple. “They may or may not get over it.” “I dunno, man,” Gladio brought his hands behind his head and tilted the chair he was sitting in. “I rather choose death.” “Then you’re the smart one.” “I’ll drink to that,” the blond agreed.

The three toasted their beers and took a sip of the carbonated liquid.

“Ah, Double IPA… Thought you were that kinda guy...” (Y/N) grimaced at the super hoppy aftertaste, feeling the squeakiness on the insides of her cheeks. “I’m more of a Belgian white and saison drinker.” “I’ll keep that in mind if I want a girly beer,” he teased. “I’m sorry I have better taste in alcohol than you do. Anyone can drink a broewski,” she retorted. “’Cept for you.”

She stuck her tongue out at Gladio like a child, only to be replied with a hearty chuckle. With the skewers completed, she preheated the oven. Taking a fresh piece of aluminum foil, she placed it on top of the baking sheet, laid the skewers on, drizzled some olive oil on top and popped them in the oven. For starch, she washed and started cooking some Saxham Rice in a pot. After 30 minutes, the food was done and served. The three chatted over dinner. After everything was polished off, (Y/N) went into her room and came back out with two wrapped items in hand.

“What’s this?” Prompto asked, looking at the small gift bag in his palm. “Partial reason for my bandaged fingers. I finished them a lot quicker than I thought. Open it.”

The two did as requested and their eyes lit up with joy. Gladio’s was a dark brown beaded necklace with two hand carved and polished skulls at the end paired with an X-shaped pendant; Prompto’s was a black leather wraparound bracelet with studs and the same skulls but in black. The blond freckled boy quickly jumped out of his chair and launched himself at (Y/N) into a tackle hug. She exclaimed and fell down with his momentum.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” he shouted and continue to embrace her tightly. “Ah, (Y/N)! You’ve made me the happiest man alive!”

All he could make out were muffled shouts of protest with beating sounds on his back with her flailing, protruding limbs.

“Oy, Prompto. You’re gonna kill her,” Gladio warned.

Suddenly realizing he was on top with his full weight, he quickly jumped off with pink cheeks from all the movement. He saw (Y/N) slowly crawl back up and rested on the back of her sofa on the floor, gasping for air, her hair a complete mess.

“Glad to hear you’d be alive,” she said between breaths. “I’d haunt the shit outta you if I wasn’t.”

The boy profusely apologized while the muscular man helped her back up on her feet. He then handed the necklace to (Y/N). She looked at him questionably.

“It’s only fitting you put this on for us,” Gladio stated. “To complete the blessing.” “Blessing?” “She made this to protect us from our own stupidity, apparently.” “We won’t be that–” Prompto started arguing and stopped himself mid-sentence by biting his lower lip. “… If you may do the honors, (Y/N),” he sheepishly finished and handed his bracelet to her.

Sighing with exasperation, she first took the necklace from Gladio and ducked down for her to put it on him like a medal. She then took Prompto’s bracelet and put it on his right wrist. From a brief glance, she could’ve sworn she saw a tattoo shaped like a bar code peeking out from one of his wristbands. They thanked her again and examined her handiwork.

“We’ll make sure this doesn’t break in battle,” Prompto swore. “It better not or I’ll break you,” she threatened.

Having realized it was late into the night, Gladio called Jared to pick him up since public transportation’s stopped running for the evening and offered to drop Prompto home as well. Once their ride came, the blond boy headed down first after saying his good night.

“(Y/N),” Gladio called. “You got somethin’ on your face.” “Eh? Where?” “Here.” He pointed to a spot on his own. She lightly rubbed it with the back of her hand and asked, “Did I get it?” “Almost. Here, let me.”

He walked up, tilted her face up to him and gave her a light peck on the cheek. For such a rumble and tumble guy, his lips were surprisingly soft on her skin. (Y/N) froze as she stared directly into Gladio’s warm amber eyes, her breath stuck in her chest. She felt her face getting as warm as the sun under his focus.

“Thanks for the necklace and dinner,” he spoke gently. “Good night.”

He made his way out and closed the door behind him. As she heard his fading footsteps down the stairs, (Y/N)’s legs lost all its strength and fell straight down onto the wooden floor with a muffled thud. Within moments, she remembered how to breathe again. What. In the name of Bahamut’s Fifteen Swords just happened?!

[cats-in-bowties]

On being on Jeopardy!

Warning: This is long. Like, obnoxiously long. It’s all under the cut.

For as long as I can remember, Jeopardy has been a presence in my life. One of my strongest memories of 9/11 is coming home from school (I had just started first grade) and noticing that something was off because my mom wasn’t watching Jeopardy; she was watching the news coverage like everyone else was on that day.

I got my first Final Jeopardy right when I was nine. It was toward the start of Ken Jennings’s run and the correct response was Spongebob Squarepants, with the clue directly naming the creator- something I’d seen a million times because my younger brother demanded we watch it at pretty much every opportunity (I was more of an Arthur gal). It was at that time I started watching Jeopardy more attentively. After all, Jennings’s run was– and still is– unprecedented.

Regular watching was really able to happen when I got to middle school. I got done with classes and home in time to watch it at 3:30 as it was broadcast out of the Chicago ABC station my family got. When we switched tv providers and could no longer get Chicago channels, my mom and I chose instead to record the episode when it ran at 6 PM out of CBS Milwaukee and watch it before bed. When I started college at Lawrence, we agreed that the episodes should stay unwatched on the DVR until I could watch them at home– which meant squeezing in months of Jeopardy episodes into my breaks, which we usually accomplished by watching 2 or 3 a night.

In this time, I slowly got better at Jeopardy. There were various reasons for this. Being in high school, I was given my first exposure to a lot of the things they ask about on the show. Yeah, I got those questions on Kafka or World War I treaties or geometric terms, but I had just learned about them last week. But another important part of it was simply watching the show and noticing patterns. I started trying to guess things that would come up based on category names, often being able to call them in the regular rounds and– in moments that astound/terrify both my parents and myself– Final Jeopardy. (Though sometimes these guesses are wildly incorrect for the sake of being silly. For whatever reason, I have not been written into categories about “Notable Women” :P)

Doing so well, my parents often told me that it was only a matter of time before I ended up on the show. I would usually laugh it off and roll my eyes. Yeah, maybe. Someday. Not now or anything.

So I don’t know what it was that drove me to sign up to audition for the college tournament this year. Maybe it was the nagging knowledge that paying for graduate school (I’m currently in my senior year of undergrad) would be on my own and wanting to avoid student loans as much as possible and realizing that winning the top prize of $100,000 could get me there. Maybe it was wanting to show up those students from big name schools that seem to always make it into the tournament. Maybe it was sheer curiosity to see if I was as good as I thought I was.

I signed up to be notified about when the test would be shortly before going back for my final fall term. I closely followed and signed up for the online test, that I would be taking the night of September 28. I thought I did decently on the practice test and though I started the real one with a few guesses, I quickly fell into a rhythm, and then it was over. The online test is 50 questions with fifteen seconds to answer each one. I told my parents about it when I made my weekly skype home and though they were both excited for me– my mom especially– I never expected to hear anything back. I began lurking the Jeopardy subreddit and compared my answers with the ones posted (based on what I’m pretty sure I answered, I got anywhere from 40-43/50 correct; most places online say that you need above 35 to hear anything back from the producers).

Even knowing that, it was still a pleasant shock when I got an email two weeks later on October 11, during an afternoon of laundry and homework that said they wanted me to come to an in-person audition/interview in Chicago on Saturday, November 12. I checked my calendar– it was the Saturday at the end of ninth week (Lawrence runs on 3, 10-week terms so things are pretty hectic by week 9), a week after I would be gone for a quizbowl tournament and I had a draft of a paper due that Friday night before and there was a wind ensemble concert Saturday night, which meant I would need to be back to campus in time for my 7:15 PM shift at the library, since my coworker would be in the concert. I talked it over with my mom, who would pick me up after my last class got out on Friday around 4:30, drive home, sleep, take the train down to Chicago Saturday morning, have my audition at 11:30, then come straight back to get me to campus in time for work. Sure it was hectic and kind of insane, but there was Jeopardy on the line!

After rsvp-ing, I got a secondary email that gave more specific details as well as an application I would have to complete, sign, and bring with me to the audition. Now I just had to wait for a month. My classwork kept me busy, but I still indulged in fantasizing about possibilities and “I might be on Jeopardy” made its way into the margins of my notes when I was distracted.

Things went off without a hitch. My parents and I made it to Chicago with plenty of time and we found the hotel where the audition was being held (on the way to the hotel we passed Trump Tower. I flipped it off. It was cathartic). I found my way upstairs and noticed I was in the right place when I came across a lot of other college students and also a large supply of Jeopardy pens and paper that we would use to write our answers on. I killed time chatting with some of the others there. Most of them were from schools I’d heard of and ones that were bigger than Lawrence (University of Minnesota, Michigan, Chicago, Madison, even one guy from Harvard) but there were a few smaller schools there to hold their own (St. Olaf, St. Norbert). We finally started to see those from the 9 AM session trickle out of the room where we’d actually be in before we were greeted by a couple of the contestant coordinators– Glenn and Lauri– who took a roll call to make sure everyone was there and then who lined us up to have individual quick photos taken. We were then finally allowed to go in the other room and they talked to us about Jeopardy, mainly how the show works and how today would work. After a pre-recorded video greeting from Alex Trebek and a few mock clues that anyone could raise their hand and answer to get us in a Jeopardy mindset, the written test began. As was explained in my email, the written test closely resembled the online one in terms of difficulty and length, though we only had eight seconds per question this time. I felt I did pretty well, like on my first test, but there were a few I knew i got wrong (which I realized when chatting with the others while the tests were being scored) that I continually kicked myself over for the rest of the day (Bernie Sanders, Rosh Hashanah, Afghanistan, the Edward Snowden movie, and I think I spelled cerberus wrong enough to count as a wrong answer).

When Glenn and Lauri came back, they explained that we’d be playing some mock Jeopardy that would be filmed with two others and at the end of our time we would talk about ourselves a little before being dismissed to sit down and watch the others play. Much to my surprise, my name was called first– meaning I was not only in the first group to play, but I was in the first position at the front of the room. I felt I did well. I basically acted how I did when I watched at home, but with a little more poise. The weakest part I felt was when I talked about myself. I got through the initial part just fine– school, year, majors, plans after graduation, but after that I stumbled. What did I do outside of class? Work in the library? Waste time on YouTube and tumblr? Procrastinate writing papers? I got out something about really liking to read and also cats (helping my family foster cats was something on my facts sheet) before moving into the last part of the introduction: what you would do with the money. When Glenn told us this would be part of our introduction, he made sure to emphasize that paying off student loans and paying for grad school were not acceptable answers. Since the latter was what I’d realistically do, I talked about going to London again, since I had studied there last autumn and had fallen completely in love with it. Travel was kind of generic, but once I got through that part, it was over. Other people’s answers got to be a lot more creative or off-the-wall since they had more time to think on it but I felt mine had gone pretty well. Coming out of it, I felt the introduction was the weakest part of my audition that day.

Glenn told us when the filming would be for the actual tournament would be– January 10 and 11 and that if we were selected, we’d be contacted before the holidays. If we didn’t hear anything, we were free to audition next year if still eligible for the tournament or the regular show. After that we were dismissed and I wandered back down to the lobby, where my parents were waiting to pepper me with questions about it had gone. I left that day with a Jeopardy pen, low-quality earbuds in a Jeopardy pouch, and my memories.

Amtrak having wifi was a blessing and a curse. On one hand, I got things right that had been a guess (Andy Murray! H&M! Beirut is the capital of Lebanon!) but the ones I got wrong continued to nag at me even as I went back to school and the looming deadlines for papers grew ever closer. I knew I couldn’t go back in time and change things but I was still frustrated. Reading the subreddit about some frustrated fans who attended multiple auditions for the regular show and still not making the cut, I felt that my umming and lack of interests coupled with my semi-unknown school meant I wouldn’t make it to the show. I emphasized that my odds for getting on weren’t great when talking with my relatives over Thanksgiving who were all very excited for me. There had been about 30 people in my 11:30 session and the same in the earlier one, meaning 60 people auditioning in Chicago. They had also held auditions in Los Angeles, New Orleans, and New York City. Assuming roughly the same turnout size at those meant that 15 out of approximately 240 would get on– that’s a 6.25% chance. So not impossible, but also not very likely. I wanted to keep my hopes in check for when I wouldn’t get a call back.

But it happened December 2. I was back home on winter break (Lawrence is on a trimester system so we have Thanksgiving-New Year’s off) working at the Piggly Wiggly that had employed me over the summer as a cashier because people are still buying food in December. I got off my shift at 4 and called my mom to pick me up. I noticed that I had a missed call on my phone. It was from a number with an area code I didn’t recognize, but they’d left a voicemail– something that robots, telemarketers, or robot telemarketers didn’t do. So, as I walked up towards the front of the store to wait for my mom, I listened to the message.

“Hi, this is Ryan Keller from Jeopardy! I’m looking for Allison; I’ve got your application here, it looks like you went an audition for the College Championship in Chicago with Glenn and Lauri and I’d like to talk to you . . .” I had stopped in the aisle next to some greeting cards and an old lady doing her shopping as I heard him leave a number to call him back at and a giant grin on my face. I jumped up and down as I figured out how to a save a message and finish getting to the front of the store, the call echoing in my mind.

I listened to it a couple more times as I waited for my ride and texted my friend who had auditioned for the show in the past (once for college– she’d since graduated– and she was in the pool for the regular show at the time I heard back– hi, @bookofrevelation ) because I had to tell someone. My mom eventually got there and I hopped in the car where she’d parked. I stopped her before she started it again. “I had a voicemail on my phone when I got off of work,” I started. “It was Jeopardy. I think they want me for the show.” I’ll be honest; I cried a little bit out of sheer joy. Saying it made it even more real. My mom was appropriately excited for me and asked if I had called them back and I explained that I was going to once I was able to breathe again.

I nervously called them back. After reviewing some basic information that had been on my application, I found out: It was real. I had been selected for the tournament; filming would be January 10-11, they’d make and pay for travel and lodging arrangements. (I took some very scrambled notes down while on the phone) After confirming contact information for paperwork and a per diem check that would be sent to me I hung up and screamed that I was going to be on Jeopardy! I screamed at my brother. I screamed at my cat (who did not like this and ran off to hide). I wanted to scream it from my rooftop, but it was freezing outside. I told my dad when he got home from work that night and confirmed it to my friend who I’d been texting, who posted about it in the Facebook group for the quizbowl team who was also very excited for me.

I had a little over a month to prepare and I couldn’t have picked a better time to do so. It was the end of 2016 so everyone was releasing top ____ of 2016 lists. I also had a lot of Jeopardy episodes stockpiled on the DVR, and I started watching them standing up with a pen buzzer that I had to press before I could give my answer. I also contacted my school’s PR department to see if they’d be able to buy sweatshirts for my appearance there. I finagled my work schedule at the campus library to cover the days I’d be gone.

I returned to Lawrence the first week of January where I had to tell professors that I’d be missing class second week. They were pretty understanding– after all, this was Jeopardy! Not to mention I could always do readings for class on the plane.

I flew out to Los Angeles with my mom on Sunday, January 8. The Jeopardy production staff had made arrangements for me at a hotel near Universal Studios and had left Monday as a free day. Los Angeles weather was far from perfect– 50s and kind of drizzly– but coming from subzero Wisconsin temperatures it was a treat. I spent Monday at Universal Studios, which was awesome but weird. The lines were almost nonexistent and doing something I don’t normally do on a Monday made it feel like I was playing hooky. My mom and I went to see Hidden Figures that night. It was what I needed, since Tuesday and Wednesday would mean waking up early and being there for filming five episodes each.

Tuesday morning I met some of the producers and the other contestants in the lobby of the hotel. After re-signing our contracts we were loaded onto a bus where Maggie Speak gave us a run-down of everything Jeopardy. General rules, some basic tips, and what would happen in extraordinary circumstances like ties. The people I talked with were all very nice. There were 16 of us- 15 to play in the tournament and 1 alternate who had been informed of their role prior to the filming days. Because the College Championship is a ten-day tournament, the first day of filming was dedicated solely to the quarterfinals and the second would be for semifinals and the two-day finals. We arrived at the studio and were escorted into the contestant green room, which had some snacks and photos of past winners. We filled out some more paperwork and had our makeup done before going out to the set for promotional photos and some practice with the buzzer system.

The set didn’t feel real. It looked just like on tv, maybe a little bit smaller, and getting to walk on it was honestly kind of surreal. Like you wouldn’t expect something that exact to just exist in the real world but it does and I got to walk on it and pose with a sign that said Lawrence and play Jeopardy there.

A lot of the resources I consulted before going on the show talked about the buzzer as being a cruel mistress. They’re right. Getting the timing right is tricky. It’s really about getting it right when the clue is finished being read. There are lights on the edges of the board but the by the time they go on someone else has probably already buzzed in. In the practice rounds I felt I did all right. Being on the short side, they also had to lift me up quite a bit behind my podium– I had read that they put the contestants at roughly equal height because it makes it easier to frame the shot. They have blocks built into the stage that they can raise and lower to a specific height.

Because 4 semifinal positions are dependent on wildcard spots, we had to stay in the green room until our matches were assigned so we couldn’t know the scores of the other competitors and thus give those playing later in the day an unfair advantage. They called three names for the first match– I wasn’t in them– and the remaining 12 that would definitely be playing that day resigned ourselves to start waiting in the green room. The producers had brought us some movies and generic Jenga to play while back there since all of our devices had to be turned off as soon as the bus stopped at the studio. We watched Shaun of the Dead and Talladega Nights while hearing distant applause for Daily Doubles and commercial breaks all while under the watchful eye of one of the production staff. Periodically one of the producers would come back and get three more of us. After the end of the third match, we had lunch brought to us.

There were some more practice rounds after lunch and at last my name was called. I was in the fourth match of the day. I got fitted with a mic and my makeup retouched before going out there for real.

I don’t remember much about my match. One thing I’ve always appreciated about Jeopardy is how quickly it moves– the games move roughly in real time and there are no drawn-out waits while the crew does dramatics with the lights. But when you’re in it, things really move. The categories in the first round weren’t my favorites– there was a sports category where I knew Kaepernick and Steph Curry and nothing else and no musical theater in sight. I didn’t get a buzz in the entire first half of the single Jeopardy round. During the commercial break Glenn coached me on my buzzing and I figured out I’d be better off just ignoring the lights in favor of Alex’s reading.

The end of the first commercial break also means you get to talk with Alex. I had gone over my stories with one of the producers before filming started and highlighted which one I wanted prioritized– fostering kittens– which he completely ignored in to talk about my Don Quijote course I had last spring. I think I sounded pretty natural but I didn’t even get to talk about the coolest parts of Don Quijote– metatextual elements and thinking about the role of the author in such an early novel. The second half of the round allowed me to actually get on the board since the sports category had gotten cleared out before the break. I got a daily double in a geography category that I felt unsure of before answering and remembering the category. I don’t remember much of what I got right in most of the match. I remember getting FDR, salt, Department of Housing and Urban Development among other things, the last of which I got from someone who had only given the partial name. I had a fantastic brain fart where I stopped reading the clue and rang in thinking they wanted what RDA stood for. I’ve done quizbowl and don’t often neg– getting something wrong and losing points as well as locking out your team– but when I do I do not forget what I neg on. RDA is going to haunt me for the rest of my life.

That being said, I finished the Double Jeopardy round in a second place with $9000 and prevented it from being a runaway for Mohan from NYU. The Final Jeopardy category appeared: South America. I’m a Spanish major, but there’s a lot about South America I don’t know, not to mention that it could be a lot of things– geography, history, politics, or literature just to name a few. Unlike the other commercial breaks, the producers aren’t there to chat and make sure you’re doing okay, they are there to make sure to put in and lock in your wager so the show can continue. I decided to wager $4000– I wouldn’t win it, but $13000 was a decent place to finish for a wild card spot. This was all dependent on if I got it correct. In hindsight I should have risked more– everyone got FJ right with Mohan only risking $800. If I had wagered enough to get me to $16000 I would have won the match outright leaving him in a wild card place. As it was, at the time I finished I had secured the fourth wild card place, which was then taken by one of the contestants in the very next game. Watching the earlier quarterfinals once they aired showed me just how many people had gone all-in on their wagers. After all, quarterfinalists were guaranteed $5000 to take home.

I was heartbroken when I learned I wasn’t going on. I thought I would have done better. I should have studied more on the wagering end. I should have risked more. I should have I should have I should have I should have.

But I can’t live like that. I was the alternate on the second day of filming so I got to get up early and hang with really cool people for a second day and watch how the rest of the tournament unfolded, which was bittersweet, since I felt like I would have done better on the categories and clues that came up on the second day of filming. (There was a $2000 clue on Crazy Ex-Girlfriend that went dead! There was another clue on La La Land! Adele! There was a video games category that included an Overwatch clue that went dead and I don’t even play Overwatch!) Even in talking with my mom afterward she felt like I would have done better with the boards that had come up earlier in the quarterfinals (there had been a musical theater category that included Hamilton D: ) but that just proves how much of the show is dependent on the luck of the draw. Even watching the quarterfinals from when I was trapped in the greenroom was hard– there were a lot of things I would have gotten. Watching Jeopardy being filmed was really cool– they run a tight ship and during commercial breaks Alex and Johnny Gilbert answer audience questions to which they have impeccably prepared responses for pretty much anything you could throw at them (my mom was really able to observe this since she watched 10 games total). No, I don’t know what Alex Trebek is really really like; the FCC doesn’t want me to know and he’s busy doing his own stuff and besides, the producers are way more fun to be around, even if there’s no name recognition.

After the finals finished (the Spiciest Memelord) there was a reception for the production staff and contestants. I got to meet and talk with members of the Clue Crew and finally friend everyone else who I’d competed with. It was an incredible experience that didn’t quite feel real when I got back to campus. I went back to classes and couldn’t say what happened with the tournament. It slowly dawned on me as I got closer to airdate. It really happened. And it was awesome.

I watched my game surrounded by about fourteen of my Lawrence friends and topperstix. It was awesome. They wanted to see me do well and cheered when I got things right. I would have loved to have shown them a secure win and more than one game, but it’s all in the past and what’s done is done.

I can’t be on Jeopardy again. Doing this waives my eligibility. But I had a great time and fulfilled a dream. And honestly? That’s enough.

[sillyfudgemonkeys]

How I think P3D should go down pt 3.

(prev/pt 2) Wow, part 3 so fast after we had to wait 2 months for part 2? Welp when Atlus says they have new announcements planned coming up….I realized I gotta write this as fast as possible (good thing this is just a general idea/summary instead of a fanfic 8U) Plus I still have to do those (2) P5 Arena game summaries (which will be a lot shorter as I just only have the general plot, but I can’t do it till I finish the P3D thing). But yeah be this prediction right or wrong, god forbid that at least one thing in here is predicted and I didn’t get a chance to write it down (and I don’t want that to happen again so yeah 8U)

Ok so the scene opens up with a montage of the SOs investigating the city. They later meet up to debrief on what they’ve found. In the end they didn’t ifnd anything, tho Junpei, who was assigned to a museum, makes a quip “I hope this place burns to the ground so I don’t have to go in there ever again.” Aigis/Labyrs will also make a quip that she met a talking dog/cat while investigating. Mitsuru states that maybe they should rendezvous with Yu, Naoto, and Rise tomorrow (as Yu and Naoto will be arriving/free tomorrow evening, and Rise will also have a break tomorrow evening as well), she says according to Rise they will be welcomed at the studio so they will meet up there. And the scene ends.

(hey hey anyone picking up on my hints as to where the setting takes place? 8U)

The next scene is a montage happening over at Ni’s side, where she is running around yet again (going from training, to teaching lessons, to showing off assignments, doing coffee runs, to even taking up new assignments cause her fellow coworkers are like “ehhh you can do it better anyways, btw I need it by next week”) She has an energetic smile on her face as she accepts each request, tho you can hear in her voice get a little more tired each time. At the end you hear her mumbling about still not getting the letter. The scene ends, ending day 3.

(ok ok, phew set up is about done guys I swear, now we’re getting to the catalyst that starts off what’s going to lead into the dance battle shadow stuff I swear ;w; )

 The scene opens up with Ni feeling a lot more upbeat. She states she has a good feeling that her letter will arrive today (she also arranged her mail to be delivered/forward to her at the studio as opposed to her apartment that day). Everything is going great at work too. Later in the afternoon she has a lesson with Maiko, which goes over very well. As the leave the room they were in, the front desk secretary runs up to her and gives her a letter, the letter Ni had been waiting for. Ni, excited, is about to open a letter when a fellow coworker storms up to her. He starts yelling at her where was the stuff she was suppose to work on for him. Ni claims she didn’t have anything assigned to her by him nor had he asked her to do anything. Her internal monologue states that her coworker is probably trying to cover his own ass by pushing the blame onto her (I should note that up until this point, she kept all her negative emotions out of her internal monologues). She attempts reason with her coworker in a calm manner but in the end he pushes all the blame onto her. She keeps a calm façade but in her internal monologues she is fuming. Trying not to be shaken and to get away from the stares that her fellow coworkers were throwing at her, she darts off to a different part of the building. She begins to open up the letter (now this is where I wouldn’t mind an animated cutscene, or at least a partial one towards the end but yeah):

Ni: Finally! *opens letter* Now let’s see…. We have regret to inform you that- Ni: *shocked ellipses* Ni: *now panicked/in turmoil* W-what? I…I don’t understand….I got the top mark on the exam….W-wh-why didn’t I get in???? Ni: *racing thoughts* Nononono calm down there’s still time, it’ll just take a little longer than planned-BUT I DON’T HAVE TIME! Each precious second that slips away makes it that much farther out of your reach-But if I graduate both undergrad and grad school at the top of my class while acing the exam a few more times all while maintaining this demanding job it’ll show off my work ethic and maybe courry favor with-NO! Have you learnt nothing, this kind of thing has happened before and you know how that turned out. Padding that resume of yours won’t do you any good, they’ve already made up their minds about you-Nonono if I just work a little harder I can still do this, there must be another way maybe-THERE IS NO OTHER WAY! You’ll never get it now, you might as well end yo- (Familiar, probably Rise’s) nearby voice (which cuts off Ni’s thought process): Kirijo-san! It’s so great to see you again. Ni: *snaps out of it, shocked* What? A coworker/boss’s voice: Ahhh, Kirijo-san it really is a pleasure for you to come by, may I give you a tour? Mitsuru: No that is quite alright, Kujikawa can show us around just fine I believe. Rise: Ahhh yeah I think I can manage that. Ni: *still shocked* No way….*as if possessed she slowly starts to walk towards the voices that are around the corner* Ni: *thinking* No way…so….so soon? Junpei: *whose voice starts growing closer* Well let’s get this tour going Rissette! Here I’ll lead the wa-AHRG! *junpei had rounded the corner and slammed into Ni* Junpei: Nnnnggg HEY! Why don’t you watch where your go-oh! Oh um, sorry about that Miss. Ni: *looking down at her butt and rubbing it, thinking* Ow, hey you were the one running indoors….. Aigis: Junpei-san, I believe this was all your fault. I think you need to apologize more properly. *leans down with her hand out* Hello, can you stand? Ni: Hm? *slowly looks up and meets Aigis’ eyes* Ni: *gasps as intense fear and panick flood her eyes* Aigis: *finally looking into the girls’ eyes, matching her intensity with her own confusion* H-huh? Ni: *we see flashes of fire and a wrecked car flood her mind, with a far off blonde figure amidst it all* Ni: *starts to back away like a cornered animal* No..NO! STAY AWAY! *starts to scramble to her feet* I DON’T WANT TO DIE! *runs off* *The rest of the SOs plus Rise round the corner wondering what the fuss is about* Yukari: What on earth was that?! Junpei, what did you do? Junepi: I-I didn’t do anything damnit! Akihiko: W-who cares let’s just go after her! *everyone starts to run off after her but Aigis* Aigis: That girl….where have I….? *shakes it off and runs after Ni as well*

Back to Ni, we see her running through the halls frantically (even passing by Maiko on the way). She ends up near a private bathroom and flings herself into it and locks the door. She leans over the sink, she’s starting to visibly sweat. Her mind keeps flashing between Aigis, Mitsuru’s name, the fire-y car, the rejection letter, and it just keeps going around and around faster and faster (as this also happens, it flashes to the SOs who are still chasing after her, but now the world is flashing between the normal world and the Dark Hour at a rapid pace) until it’s broken by someone placing two hands on her shoulders. The problem is that the hands are coming from in front of her, you know…..where there is a sink and a wall…and a mirror. She slowly looks up and sees the disembodied arms leading to the mirror where supposedly her reflection is. Her reflection looks at her, eyes turning yellow, with a twisted smile. “Oh you poor child….. You’re hurt, so so hurt. Those horrible people…..but don’t worry…..I can help you.” With that she pulls Ni inti the mirror as Ni let’s out an ear piercing shriek.

(this Mirror scene is suppose to reflect P4D’s diary-Kanami remembers scene)

Seeing that the door is locked, the SOs break it down the door to see Ni is nowhere to be found.

End pt 3

(really gonna end it there? Yeah well the next one or two parts I’m gonna blast through and it’ll be even more summarized so yeah…trying to finish this before March 26 so yeah sorry ;w;)

pt 4

[a-shmeeb-abroad]

On the Complete and Utter Overhaul of My Life and the Transformation of This Blog

Good Morning everyone, long time no see. Just checking in to see how yall are doing and was wondering if I could possibly tempt you with another blog post. Lots of things have happened and I am eager to share them with you, so as my first major post from my new apartment in Tokyo (we’ll get to that in a second), I wanted to give you a not-so-short update on life. As the title suggests, my life has gone through a thorough overhaul in the past year and so-many-months and things are completely unrecognizable. Why don’t we pick up where we left off for the sake of time?

In my last post I mentioned I had taken up a position on KAJET as the communications coordinator. In total, I served 2 years in the position. During that time, not only was I moderator of the Facebook and Email account, I also dipped my toes into web design and completely overhauled the website. As if that wasn’t enough responsibility, that summer I decided on a whim to run for National AJET’s position of Block 11 Representative, and my successful bid essentially threw me into the national spotlight as the representative of the 4 southernmost prefectures in Japan, which I served as for one year alongside 11 other amazing Reps doing the role of C.C. times two on a much…larger scale. The year of 2017 gave me invaluable experience in coordinating large-scale events, planning, organization, and networking and I truly believe that everything fell into place because of my sudden drive to do the – what I thought was – impossible. The shy and self-conscious girl I once was blossomed into a confident leader who beamed at the idea of meeting new people from all over the world, and I cannot put into words how proud I am of myself.

In addition, many areas of my life saw a boost in academics. Most notably, I started more serious after-school tutoring with my students for an English exam called EIKEN, and thanks to their incredible drive and perseverance, we had a going rate of about 90% of them passing each round. These kids had become like little brothers and sisters to me so seeing them facing their fears of speaking another language and absolutely blowing the exam out of the water brought me so much joy, and I am endlessly proud of how much effort they made to improvement.

After the exams quieted down for the summer, my friend and I (kind of on a whim, honestly) decided to enroll in a Japanese language school in the Shin-Okubo neighborhood of Tokyo in order to study seriously for the JLPT. For those who don’t know much about it, Shin-Okubo is the Korean area of Tokyo, so study sessions after class were spent lounging in cafes blasting the summer’s hottest K-Pop songs or chowing down on fried chicken and melted cheese takkgalbi in crowded, smoky lunch spots. I’d grown up in the suburbs, spent 4 years hopping about a sizeable college town, and then settled into the quaint countryside of southern Japan, not once stopping for but a moment in a large city. But somehow through the unbearable heat, the full-to-the-brim trains, and impenetrable crowds of slow walkers and umbrella-toting old ladies, I found myself growing deeply fond of a city I was never too keen on.

As we know, however, all good things must come to an end. As summer began to wind down, my friend and I finished our month of school with resounding praise from teachers certain we would pass our exams, and my year-long relationship came to a close as we agreed it was time for him to focus more seriously on studying for his medical school exams. Though it was with a heavy heart that I left Tokyo and returned home, I persevered and continued my roles in the community while cramming those last few months for our exam. Thankfully this came with a happy ending as both my friend an I achieved a solid “PASS” on the N2 level of the Japanese Language Proficiency Test, the second highest level test takers can achieve. With this certificate in tow, I began my job hunt.

Yes, that is correct. I began job hunting.

But didn’t I love my job and want to continue teaching long term?

Yes, I did. Let me explain.

In November, participants on the JET Program are given their contract to re-sign for the following year and, depending on the school or board of education, usually have until January to turn in their acceptance or declination. Schools usually hire for up to 3 years, and then in the case of exemplary behavior (or honestly sometimes just bare minimum effort, if we are being so honest) we can stay up to 5 years at the same school and then finish the program. I received a letter telling me that my school wished to recontract me for a 4th year and I was very pleased, but I also felt a deep knot in my stomach as I accepted the paper. You see, while I was in Tokyo, I had done a lot of thinking about what I was looking for in my life and my future from many different angles, and with my two…well, 3 leadership roles, as I was also serving as the block leader for Kanoya and the surrounding areas at that time as well, the taste of real responsibility and challenge was exhilarating to me. Constantly having things to do with multiple levels and scopes of responsibility was something I had never experienced, and I HAD to have more. I just had to. At the age of 24, I realized it was time to search for a more long-term career with upward mobility. I wanted something that allowed me to climb some sort of ladder. In one of the hardest decisions I had to make since coming to Japan, I declined the request to recontract and made the decision to leave Kanoya, the place that had become my second home.

To make a long story short, I threw myself into job hunting for 4 months. I applied to almost 30 jobs and attended scores of interviews while working and holding my 3 volunteer positions. In the end, after weeks of stress, tears, and almost zero down time, I received and accepted a job offer for a career in the international events and conference industry at a company headquartered smack dab in the center of Tokyo.

I don’t know how many of you readers have moved across the country before, let alone in a foreign country, but let me tell you, it is no joke. I could write an entire separate blog post on the trials and tribulations of finding an apartment meeting all my requirements and budget that would also rent to a foreigner, or having to pay almost $2000 in deposits and key money (basically a ‘thanks for letting me rent from you’ gift to the landlord which has been in practice since the post-war era), but all I can say is that I’ve never been so happy to be completely finished with something in my entire 25 years of life. I settled down in a 200 square foot flat in the Suginami ward of Tokyo about 3 weeks ago. I can see both Mt. Fuji and Tokyo Skytree from my house. It is minimal chic and very clean. It’s loud sometimes, but there is a sweet pair of pigeons that perches below my window and I can walk to Dominos Pizza. All in all, it works for me.

Work has been going very well. The company language is, as expected, Japanese. Most of my work consists of translating important documents or proofreading, and my first big project was constructing a now-30-page operations manual entirely in Japanese for The Asia-Pacific WFSBP Conference in Kobe as well as working the IWA World Water Conference in Tokyo for a week. As we work with extremely confidential information, I can’t be more detailed than that, and of course the learning curve is steep, but please rest assured that I am doing extremely well for what I have been given and I thoroughly enjoy the work I am doing so far. Finding out that, despite the horror stories of 18+ hour workdays and unpaid overtime of the Japanese workforce, I receive overtime pay, I am literally not allowed to stay in the building past 8 pm, and I may actually have some sort of work-life balance while working here. This entire situation was one of the greatest gifts I could have ever received and I truly do not know how I got so lucky.

And with that, it looks like you’re about caught up on what’s been happening with me. I’ve not yet hit the two month mark here, so things don’t really feel as permanent as they should be. The sadness of leaving my coworkers, students, and friends still lies deep within with me, but their unwavering kindness and generosity up until the last moments of my time at Kanoya Senior High School keeps me moving forward as I do my best to make them proud. It still feels like I’ll be going back any day now, but the busyness that my life has taken on since coming here has kept me occupied enough that I don’t dwell on that fact. There are a lot of other exciting things in the works for me right now, and I hope someday ill be able to update you on them (top secret until then, though), but until then, I’ll leave you with this. Feel free to contact me any time with questions or requests to visit (not spring, though, as I am booked solid already) and I will do my best to respond as quickly as I can. Once again, thank you from the bottom of my heart for reading and supporting me through this crazy journey across the world. Who knows what life will have in store for me next?