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#i like how i take one step into comics fandom and immediately go ah yeah I'm gonna read a random run no context
THEY BOTH BELIEVE NO ONE WILL COME FOR THEM
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Teen Titans #29
So, one of my favorite types of fics to read is Different First Meeting fics between Jason and Tim. I looooove reading Enemies To Caretaker, of which I fed handsomely on fairly recently. Big Brother Jason fics give me warm fuzzies, and Tim Drake needs a hug, and I feel like if these two actually got to know each other and worked past their preconceptions, they’d get along surprisingly well. And Still A Jason!Robin Fanboy Tim Drake is just a fun concept. 
Also, it just FEELS right for the middle siblings to band together after Damian comes along, lets get those abandonment issues in the party. 
So, for mysterious and very secret TimKon Week 2021 reasons, I was rereading some Teen Titans, and I stumbled over the Original Tim+Jason First Meeting, and I just sort of wanted to talk about some interesting things I found in there rereading it after several years. 
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First thing right off the bat, when reading fics, normally it’s either the Core Four at the tower that Jason puts to sleep, or it’s Tim alone for the night. In the comic, none of Tim’s close friends are even at the tower, Jason waits for Bart and Cassie to leave, and Conner actually hasn’t come around for an in-universe month, because this is after the Superboy’s Birthright arc where Lex mind controls Conner. 
The people Jason knocks out were his own teammates when he was a Titan. He specifically says he never got to work with Beast Boy or Cyborg directly, so he doesn’t feel bad electrocuting them, but he feels bad putting Raven under much more gently because she used to worry for him. 
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Tim has just gotten off the phone with Bruce when Jason shows up. It seems like Bruce might’ve been picking Tim up, but something’s come up with Martian Manhunter going missing, so Tim tells him he’ll catch a ride with Cyborg. 
This is actually really interesting to me, because it’s a small moment of Bruce letting Tim down. It’s a conversation he’s probably had with his biological father many times when Jack’s canceled on him. 
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Gonna acknowledge this abomination real quick. This is So Stupid, and I’m glad as a fandom we just all agreed Jason didn’t do this. It makes me ask so many questions. Where did he get that oversized Robin costume? Why’d he tear off his perfectly good clothes? Why did he do this? Why the yellow tights? WHY? 
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A lot of things are actually happening here that are actually Really Interesting if you just look past the stupid fucking outfit. Because this comic actually flew really close to greatness, they just ended up dropping the ball by not continuing to do more with it. 
First off, Jason doesn’t beat around the bush. He’s immediately like “yeah, yeah, yeah, Red Hood, whatever, I’m Jason Todd, bitch! Fight me.” 
Secondly, Jason’s done his homework. He knows A LOT about Tim. He knows his name, he knows he has a dad, he knows he went to prep school, and he knows the story of how Tim became Robin. How he GOT that last bit of information, I’d honestly like to know. But even HAVING the information isn’t enough; he’s still letting his preconceived ideas get in the way. The surface level information about Tim’s life only served to fuel his jealousy and anger (thanks, Lazerus Pitt!). He’s so focused on Tim’s privilege that he’s looked past evidence of hardship; if he’s done this much research on Tim, he’s no doubt seen records of multiple boarding schools, lengthy travel records, news reports, a death certificate.... He can’t even bring himself to BELIEVE parts of Tim’s story that aren’t lining up with his world view, like HOW he became Robin. 
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Jason has convinced himself that what he’s discovered about Tim and the period of time when Jason was dead - the fact that Bruce was spiraling after his death, that his family mourned him, that Tim had to step up to the plate at a weird suicide prevention buddy system - is all a lie. Despite the fact that he’s beating Tim’s ass, he speaks to him with the assumption that Tim’s a child who’s been manipulated and lied to. 
Meanwhile, it must be SO PAINFUL for Tim to hear Jason say these things: I bet he said the same thing to you he said to me, didn’t he? That you have the talent to make a difference in Gotham. That he needed someone he could trust in his war on crime. That you were one of a kind. The light in his darkness.
Bruce never said any of that to Tim. Bruce rejected Tim, he didn’t want Tim, and begrudgingly accepted Tim. 
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Going back to Jason waiting for Tim’s other young teen friends to leave the tower before going in, only drugging his own former teammates, is much of his anger seems directed at THEM, not just Bruce. To Jason, it looks like they didn’t mourn him either, he has no statue. I find it interesting that he smashes Donna Troy’s statue, who died after him, and I believe she came back before he did. 
Unless he was keeping track of the news from the League of Assassins, to Jason, Donna never died. 
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And most importantly? Tim shuts Jason down. Tim “Bitch, Please” Drake out here like: you’re a fucking idiot, he loved you to death, he barely let me audition for the role. 
Tim shows some deep resentment towards Jason in this scene. I mean... earned, Jason literally came into his house and starting hitting him, but Tim’s relationship towards the Idea Of Jason has gone through a few changes. At first Jason was ROBIN! THE BOY WONDER! And if maybe Tim thought Bruce wasn’t AS happy with Jason as he was with Dick, there was still SOME hero worship early on. But it only takes Bruce and Alfred and Dick using Jason’s death as a cautionary tale a few times to get Tim to see Jason AS a cautionary tale - the kind of Robin NOT to be. But the more Tim craved Bruce’s paternal attention and approval, and the more Bruce withheld it or made Tim work for it, knowing that Bruce did that, in part, because of his love and grief for his dead son (Tim having an actual living breathing father plays a part, too), and those feelings towards Jason have started to fester.
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Jason can’t let it go, though, he thinks the concept of Robin was a mistake and had always been a mistake, and if he can hurt Tim, so can Scarecrow, Penguin, The Joker. 
This is a good time to bring up that one thing I think Jason probably doesn’t know is Tim is injured. It is a little over a month since since Conner shattered Tim’s right arm. Tim is still healing from a comminuted fracture in his forearm. And looking at this picture that is - ah, yes, that is the injured arm Jason is swinging Tim by. Tim is probably healed by now, the cast IS off and he’s a child, but bones don’t fully return to full strength for 3-6 months. 
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Jason is conflicted. This is clearly, in part, a fucked up way of “protecting” what he sees as a manipulated child, to convince him to leave Bruce. But there’s also clearly some deep, deep jealousy thrown into the mix to complicate matters and cloud his judgement. Ultimately, Jason isn’t there to kill Tim. Tim would be dead if he was. He’s there to “beat some sense into him,” and he ultimately fails, and fails badly. 
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Tim is found by the older Titans, awake by now, though it seems Jason knocked him out to, uh, fuck with the memorial chamber, and Tim... does not beat around the bush. No secret identities here just “yeah, Jason Todd beat the shit out of me.” 
And their reactions are HILARIOUS. 
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One more little sidebar, in the comic, Jason gets in with a D.N.A. check that never removed him from its permissions. Usually in fic this is a unique pass code. I’m not sure which version I like better, honestly. There’s something about Jason physically inputting a code that accepts him even though he’s supposedly dead that I really like, and just feels better than a dna scan. A dna scan sounds SAFER, sure, but there’s something about the Titans leaving in an honest SECURITY RISK out of sentiment that I like. 
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Lastly, I really like how it ends. Jason honestly thinks Tim IS a good Robin, and it seems like Jason’s done some research on the core four, mentioning Tim’s “real friends” again while the “camera” is on Conner and Cassie, suggesting that Jason KNOWS about them and possibly that targeting the tower while they were gone maybe wasn’t an accident or out of convenience, but fully intentional. And again, Jason’s real problem is highlighted: he feels alone, forgotten, unmemorable, no family, no friends. 
Thank you for coming to my TedTalk. 
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danny-chase · 3 years
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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Batman (Comics), Batgirl (Comics) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Stephanie Brown & Damian Wayne, Stephanie Brown & Dick Grayson Characters: Stephanie Brown, Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson, Barbara Gordon (momentarily), Alfred Pennyworth (mentioned) - Character Additional Tags: Stephanie Brown POV, Batfamily (DCU) Feels, Chocolate Milk, post mission talks, Damian Wayne is a brat with a heart of gold, Stitches, Canon Typical Violence, but not for long, because i like fluff better, Fluff, Stephanie Brown is Batgirl, Dick Grayson is Batman, Damian Wayne is Robin, Sneezing, Coughing, Dick Grayson is Damian Wayne's almost parent, Stephanie Brown is Damian Wayne's almost big sister, And kind of Dick's little sister Summary:
Steph hasn't worked with the new Batman and Robin duo long, but she doesn't hesitate to come when they call for backup. Their family's a little rough around the edges, but she'll do what she can to smooth things out.
“C’mon, faster!” Stephanie hated when Barbara seemed anxious, when she was anxious, generally something was about to go wrong. Really, really, wrong.
 “I’m homing in on the coordinates.” Barbara was driving on autopilot, but she couldn’t resist saying the line. Damian’s tracker blinked closer and closer. The kid had run off earlier that night, Dick, however, was getting better at predicting when it would happen and followed. She’d been on call for backup, Damian needed space, but he was also a magnet for trouble and unfortunately for them-
“Robin retreat! Retreat! Get out of here!” Dick screamed over the comms. The kid shouldn’t be out in the first place, still recovering from a concussion. She rounded the corner. Victor Zsasz was pushing forward aggressively trying to circumvent Batman to get a stab at Robin. Dick was holding his own but kept taking hits for a dazed looking Damian.
“Get Robin and get out! Maneuver 23.” Barbara commanded. She was seconds away, Zsasz was too close, she wasn’t going to make it, not going to make it-
 “CATCH!” She complied, automatically responding to Barbara’s harsh tone, spreading her arms as the bike swerved right.
 “JUMP!” Damian appeared to do the same with Dick, who tackled Zsasz out of range.
 “FUCK!” She yelled, because Damian jumped right into the path of her oncoming bike and-
 They grasped each other’s wrists in a practiced motion, using momentum to swing Damian onto the backseat of the bike.
 “Holy fuck.” She whispered. Hadn’t expected that to work. Sure, they’d done it a billion times practicing, but like… damn. That was freaking awesome. But also-
 “Are you okay?” She turned to look back at a pale Damian, blood staining the right side of his uniform. He nodded curtly, she could see a sheen of sweat glistening under the streetlights. It took him a moment to collect his thoughts.
 “We cannot retreat, Batman needs backup! Turn around at once!” He demanded, swaying in his spot. On a motorcycle. She might die for this, but she turned around, pulled him closer (surprisingly without argument) and started applying pressure to his side. One hand on the wound, the other keeping him propped upright. Maybe she would die, but Damian would fall off over her dead body.
 “Yeah no, I’m just gonna try to keep your blood on the inside till we get to the Bunker.” She felt a raindrop plop on her forehead, all the more reason to keep on course. Damian was already injured and tired, she would not be the one responsible for making his situation worse. “Then you can bleed out in peace.”
   Stephanie sighed as she swirled milk and cocoa together on the stove, rain pattering steadily outside. Where would she be if she’d had a normal father, or a normal life? She had a standing invite to some party; she could be out with friends. But some little gremlin child would have been murdered by Zsasz blocks away and no. She wouldn’t trade Damian’s life for normality. She was Stephanie Brown after all, abnormal was her middle name, and she accepted it with pride.
 Sure, she wasn’t mixing alcoholic drinks right now, but she was mixing chocolate milk and that was close enough. Damian clomped up the stairs, and angrily settled at the table. Think of the gremlin, and he shall appear.
 “You shouldn’t have retreated.” He muttered, slumping in the seat. His cheeks were already flush from the exertion of walking up the steps.
 “And you should go to bed.” He glared at her, looking utterly nonthreatening in his pajamas. He was wearing one of Dick’s old t-shirts, oversized, draping down past his elbows. He must have his own clothes, but she’d never seen him sleep in anything else.
 “Then why are you preparing two mugs of hot chocolate?” He asked smugly. Well, as smugly as he could with twelve stitches in his side.
 “Because I know you won’t listen to me.” The grin was replaced with a frown. “But I don’t mind, that’s why I made enough for two.” She quickly continued. Damian stared ahead at a place on the table. She weighed her next words. They both knew fully well that he wouldn’t sleep until Dick made it home in one piece, and for that matter that she would either. Leaving Damian alone with his thoughts seemed cruel under the circumstances.
“You didn’t listen to me earlier.” He accused agitatedly, breaking the silence.
 “I don’t make a habit of listening to Robins.” She said with a smirk, attempting to lighten the mood. She carefully poured the steaming cocoa into the mugs, keenly aware of Damian’s eyes following her every move.
 “You listen to Gordon.” He pouted. She placed a mug in front of him and sat down across from him.
 “Most of the time, and she’s not a Robin. I don’t listen to you, Tim, or Dick, and certainly not Jason.”
 “Why not?” He challenged, not making a move to touch his mug, still glaring at her with a dark expression on his face. “You were a Robin, were you not? You think you’re above us-”
 “No, Dames, you gotta read the situation you know?” She took a long sip of cocoa. Damian crossed his arms. She sighed. “Look, if we always listened to Dick, he’d be dead already.” He nodded carefully. “Same thing with you and Tim.” His nose scrunched at the mention of Tim.
 “Don’t compare me to-”
 “Whatever it is, I’m not, I’m just saying, I’d be a lot happier if you weren’t shish kabobbed by Zsasz.” His brow furrowed. “Okay fine, I messed up, you probably would have been fine. We shouldn’t have retreated. But you were down, and we made a judgement call – not just me, Dick would rather die than-” Damian’s eyes went wide. “Poor choice of words, I take it back. He’s not going to die, he just…” God, what was she doing? What was she even trying to say?
 “I know you’re not worried, because you’re you, but if I was you, I would be worried, but I shouldn’t be worried, because Dick’s a badass, so he’ll be fine, and knowing that you’re safe will help him stay focused on the fight. So you’re helping by staying right here, yeah?” She leaned back against the seat. Smooth, real smooth.
 Damian’s lips were pursed by the end of her rambling. “I’m not worried.” She heard him mumble under his breath. He took a sip of cocoa. “Grayson is a competent fighter; he would not be so easily defeated.” She pretended not to hear his voice wobble slightly at the end. The poor kid.
 “He’ll be home any minute now.” She assured.
 “And he’ll yell at you for not making enough for him.” He added sagely.
 “Then he’ll yell at you for not being in bed.” Damian rolled his eyes.
 “I shall already be in bed by the time he makes it up the stairs.” So confident in his abilities. Dick probably let him think he got away with it.
 “Well, then he’ll anxiously pace outside of your room, and peak in to fuss over your stiches.” She predicted. Damian snorted, and took another sip of cocoa.
 “Damian, you could have been seriously hurt, you’ve got to be more careful!” He perfectly imitated Dick’s voice. Steph had to fight back laughter and swallow her cocoa. “Why did you give him sugar, it’s his bedtime?” He directed at her.
 “Robin, cease with the hot chocolate immediately.” She croaked out in a gravelly Batman impression.
 “Holy hot chocolate Batman!” Stephanie lost it as he did a perfect impression of Dick’s normal voice. Damian allowed himself a small smile.
 “Oh my God, you have to teach me how to do that.”
 “Are you sure you have the talent for it?” He asked smugly. She brushed off the comment. Smug Damian was better than sad and worried Damian.
 “Sure, also can you do Scooby-Doo?” Damian’s brow furrowed.
 “Who?”
 “What do you mean who!?” She half yelled. Damian flinched. “Okay, since we’re already up, you’re getting an education tonight, we’re moving to the couch, let’s go, move it people.”
   Two episodes later, Damian’s wide eyes still looked through the screen rather than at it. Not all things, she supposed, could be fixed with dumb cartoons and hot chocolate.
 “Brown?” He softly spoke, as the credits played.
 “Mm?” Silence resounded through the room. Whatever question Damian had died in his throat. “I’m sure he’ll be back any minute, he’s probably overseeing the trip to Arkham.” She guessed.
 “Yes.” Another pause. “He’ll be upset when he arrives home.”
 “He won’t be too upset.” Damian tucked his knees to his chest. “Everyone made it home safe.”
 “Father would have been angry.” She couldn’t deny that. Bruce was, well, Bruce.
 “But Dick isn’t Bruce.” She let the words hang in the air for a moment. “He was Robin too once, you know?” Dick got mad, heck, he killed the Joker like three days after she first met him. He’d been upset with her, for being Batgirl, but his anger wasn’t like Bruce’s, and it hadn’t lasted for long.
 “I know.” He turned to face her on the couch. “He’ll say he’s disappointed.”
 “Ah.” Her heart melted. “That’s always worse.” Damian rolled his eyes.
 “I’ve had worse punishments.” He paused. Damn the League. “But it’s… different.” Steph could sympathize.
 “My dad used to lock me in closets when he was mad.” Damian nodded.
 “I would too.” She groaned. Sometimes she was trying to have meaningful heartfelt conversations with a ten-year-old.
 “Brat. I’m trying to have a moment.” She complained. He fell silent, shrugging his shoulders, possibly as an attempt at an apology. “The point being my mom was always disappointed. And just because one sucked more than the other, didn’t mean both didn’t suck.”
 “Hmm.” Damian leaned back against the pillows. “But I had to do something, he was,” he paled slightly, his eyes widening, “Zsasz was going to kill children again.” He looked at her earnestly. “I couldn’t let him-”
 “Look, no one’s mad at you for trying to do something good. It’s just like… we worry about you, okay?” Damian rolled his eyes again.
 “No need I’m-”
 “You’re staying up until Dick gets back, want to remind me why that is?” He turned to face the rain smeared window. “It’s the same for him, and the same for me. We worry about you too, okay?”
 “You shouldn’t.” Damian muttered. “I’m perfectly capable on my own, I’m trained in twenty-”
 “Doesn’t matter how trained you are if you’re concussed.” She pointed out.
 “It didn’t matter if I was concussed in the League.” Assholes.
 “Well, this isn’t the League, and we care if you’re concussed.”
 “Whatever.” He fell silent after, gluing his eyes back to the screen in an attempt to block her out.
 “Just, let me know next time, and I’ll come with you.” Maybe she was imagining it, but she caught a minute nod.
 Carefully, she reached out, projecting her moves, and ruffled his hair. He didn’t seem much happier, some of the tension bled out of his shoulders. Maybe she didn’t know what she was doing, but whatever mediocre amount of comfort she could supply would have to be enough. She leaned back into her end of the couch, content to sit in silent companionship and let her mind wander off, no longer focused on the cartoon, but on a family forged in chaos.
   “M’ere bud, time for bed.” Someone whispered to her right. Cracking open her eyes slowly, the time on the television box read 3:28. Damian groggily groaned in protest next to her. As her eyes adjusted, she could make out the vague outline of Dick sweeping a tired Damian (who was clearly feigning sleep) into his arms. “You should get some sleep too.” He hissed at her, as his footsteps padded away.
 She stretched out on the couch, four hours of sleep, that wasn’t too bad, but her neck was definitely stiff after that. She groaned, turning on the lamp next to her, shutting her eyes again and slowly allowing them to adjust to the light. Dick popped his head back into the doorway.
 “You need anything? The guest room has some spare clothes in your size, we have extra toothbrushes, you can use my shampoo if you want.” He rambled off. It was strange, she could never tell if he was being nice to make up for his initial rejection, or if that was just how he was.
 “Don’t be too hard on Damian.” She curled into her spot on the couch. Dick stepped forward into view, leaning against the doorframe. A pink bathrobe was draped over his shoulder, his wet hair dripping. He tiredly sunk against the wall.
 “I won’t be.” He slid into a squat, then all the way down to the floor. “Was he mad I followed him?”
 “Probably. I think he was more worried you wouldn’t come home.” Damian’s last experience with Zsasz had been… unpleasant. And the villain had carried a grudge ever since.
 “Oh. Sorry it took so long, Alfred kick you guys to bed or something?” She nodded. They’d been whisked out of the command room before she’d hardly tugged off her cape. No doubt Damian would have tried to leave again if they’d been listening on the comms.
 “You’re okay?” It was so weird. She was sitting on a couch, talking down to a cowl-less Batman in a pink bathrobe, sitting on the floor.
 “Fit as a fiddle.” He sneezed, as if on cue.
 “It’s raining pretty hard.” Her eyes flicked towards the window.
 “You don’t say.” He deadpanned, following her gaze. “It let up about an hour ago. Zsasz is back and Arkham, we found the kids he grabbed, I was trying to track down any relatives.” She nodded, Gotham’s foster care system was abysmal, and the social workers overbooked. Finding relatives could save a kid from ending up in a supervillain’s lair.
 “All’s well that ends well.” Dick sneezed again. “I could have helped.”
 “Babs and I had it under control.” She rolled her eyes, typical of the ‘big kids’ to leave her in the kiddies room. “Thank you for watching him.” He nodded at the empty mugs. “It was sweet of you to stick around.” Warmth swelled in her chest at the remark, she didn’t need his approval of course, but it was nice to have it.
 “Yeah well, cut him some slack for me yeah?” He opened his mouth to reply, then paused to cough for a bit.
 “I won’t be hard on him, but no patrol until his stiches heal.” He assured, regaining his composure.
 “I’m sure you won’t patrol until your cold’s passed.” She commented sarcastically. It would do the boys good to spend some time together anyways.
 “Did Babs put you up to this? I-”, sneeze, “told her I was fine. You guys are worse than Alfred.”
 “Nope.” She popped the p. “But I think your kid might feel a little bit guilty about tonight, and it wouldn’t hurt to stay in with him.”
 “He’s not my…” Dick stared up at the ceiling. Tucking his knees up to his chin, just the same as Damian, he went silent.
 “He’s your kid.” She said after a moment. Dick smiled ruefully.
 “He’s your kid too.” She snorted. He was like the little brother she’d never had, not that she’d admit it.
 “Not a chance, he’s all yours and Alfred’s. Babs and I don’t work with minors.” Aside from the times she had.
 “Mmmhmm. So that’s why you were drinking hot chocolate and watching cartoons with him, because he’s not your kid. I guess you don’t think of him as family” He sighed. “And to think, I was going to bring you to the aquarium with us tomorrow, but if we aren’t your family then why even-”
 “Woah, woah, woah. Let’s not go that far, I want to see him next to penguins-er I mean, I want to see the uhh... You know what nope, not ashamed, I want to see the look on his face at the touch tank.” She paused. “Aren’t you rewarding bad behavior with that though?”
 “Well, don’t worry about it, he’s my kid after all.” He chided smugly. “In all seriousness, I just want to distract him long enough he doesn’t go out again.” Another sneeze. “Jeez, stupid rain. Also, Babs is coming, it’s a party.”
 “You’re sure he won’t see it as a reward?” She wasn’t taking children’s psychology for nothing after all.
 “Nah, knowing him, he might take it as a punishment.” He closed his eyes, leaning back into the frame. “But, I try to keep capes and normal life separate, he’ll be grounded from patrol, but I won’t ground him during the day for stuff he pulls at night.” That seemed reasonable. “He’s been doing really well with homeschool.” He opened his eyes again, looking fondly at the opposite doorframe. “I think he’ll really like the aquarium, he’s been studying aquatic life recently and-”
 Dick mumbled on for a while, listing all Damian’s accomplishments, how he was multiple grade levels ahead, and scoring well in all the classes they made for him. How he could go on to do anything he wanted, was on track to take college courses by the time he was in high school, and how bright his future was. Again, she was glad her life wasn’t normal, as he rambled on and on, pride shining on his face.
 “He’s so your kid.” She interrupted after a coughing fit, having lost track of the conversation. Dick blinked at her. “Bedtime.” He nodded, sneezing halfway through.
 “Bedtime.”
  They didn’t make it to the aquarium, as predictably, Dick was running a fever by the morning. But that didn’t stop the party. Barbara brought soup, Alfred made cookies, and Steph settled on the couch next to Damian, picking up where they left off, marathoning Scooby Doo.
 Dick picked apart the episodes from his isolated recliner (they quarantined him three feet away), Damian chiming in to predict the villain’s identity. Barbara grumbled about normal people being easier to watch TV with, and Alfred settled in a chair by the door. If Cass were here, she’d bounce off the walls, and Tim would lie on the floor. Pieces were broken and missing, but as the remaining members of her pseudo-family chattered away, she had hope that things, eventually, would work out.
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tiny giants made of tinier giants
Fandom: Gravity Falls
Relationships: Dipper Pines & Ford Pines
Characters: Dipper Pines, Ford Pines, Stan Pines (mentioned), Mabel Pines (mentioned)
Words: 3,596
Summary: “It’s two AM, and Ford has a visitor.” 
[AO3]
why would I work on any of my own WIPs or try and get my life together when I could write oneshots
(this work was inspired by this super sweet comic by @rosesanddoodl3s! I hope you don’t mind, I just really loved it and had to write some of my feels out)
Ford’s been back in his own world for approximately thirty-two hours, and yet it’s almost like he never left - sitting at his desk in his old room, scribbling in the back of his second journal and muttering hissed curses between his teeth. The Oregon sky sits inky and indigo outside the panes of his window, studded with stars, and despite their apathetic, twinkling benevolence Ford can’t shake the feeling that they’re watching him. 
It’s not something he can just let go of after thirty years on the run between dimensions. 
On top of snatching away his chance to finally take out that demon once and for all, mercilessly and swiftly as he was powerless to stop it - his idiot brother’s activation of the portal literally created an interdimensional rift. He spent most of the day figuring out a way to contain it... and subsequently wrestling the slippery splashes of interdimensional matter around the portal room into the glass orb he was able to create. At least he’s in good enough shape to do so, despite his age - not that Stan would have a clue, if the beer gut he’s developed over the years is anything to go by. 
He crosses out one equation and scribbles another, tugging at his hair in frustration. All that stands between Bill and his goals now is a veil of worryingly breakable glass. 
There has to be something else he can use to protect everyone until he can find something stronger. Project Mentem, maybe? Would the machine still even work? It would probably need some level of repair after thirty years of disuse - not that he’d even used it successfully the first time round. 
A tentative knock on the door jolts him from the letters and numbers that are starting to spin on the pages in front of his eyes, and he really hopes it’s not Stan - but then again, Stan’s not really the type to knock either. Brow creasing, Ford turns to face the door. “Yes?” 
The door slowly creaks open, and he can’t stop himself from raising an eyebrow at the sight of the boy twin - Dipper, that’s it - hovering apprehensively in the doorway, clutching what looks like the comforter from his bed. “Um, Great-Uncle Ford?” 
“Dipper?” Ford frowns again, closing the journal and setting his pen down as he checks his watch. It’s after two AM. “What are you doing up?” 
Dipper hesitantly crosses the threshold, and as he steps into the dim light of the room Ford notices that his eyes are red - and a little puffy. “I, uh…” he averts his gaze, biting his lip, “...couldn’t sleep.” 
“I… see.” Ford can feel his heart sink a little. Dipper and Mabel were certainly a lot to take in upon his arrival back in this dimension, considering the thought of descendants hadn’t even crossed his mind - but they seemed assured of themselves, despite the way Dipper had almost fainted and/or thrown up upon discovering that yes, Ford was the one who wrote the journal he was clutching in his hands. The bright-eyed expression of hope and determination the boy had turned to him with as he’d pulled the memory eraser gun from his rucksack was a stark contrast to the one on his face now, and Ford’s struck out of nowhere with a sudden urge to protect him - his sister, too. He’s only known them for a day and he already knows he never wants to see them cry. Ever. 
Stan might want him to stay away from them, but he certainly can’t stop him from caring about them - and if Dipper’s down here of his own volition, Ford certainly won’t push him away. “Did you have a bad dream?” 
“Something like that.” Dipper hugs the comforter to himself a little tighter, and Ford makes a decision, rising from his desk and crossing the room to take a seat on the couch. The kid’s wide-eyed gaze follows him, and Ford simply pats the cushion next to him as an invitation. 
Dipper comes to sit on the couch next to him, tugging the worn, patched blanket around his shoulders. There’s still something hesitant in the movements of his limbs, like he’s holding himself back, and something twinges uncomfortably within Ford’s chest. He doesn’t want either of the children to feel like that around him - but he just wants to protect them from the dangers Stan’s opened their world up to, regardless of how inadvertent it might have been, and for that he probably needs to keep his distance. Even now he feels like he’s breaking some arbitrary rule, with Dipper perched on the couch at his side - before a wave of indignation washes it away. It’s Ford’s house, damn it, not Stan’s - despite what he may have told them… and everyone else in this town.  
“Any reason you came to me rather than Stan…?” Ford ventures. He’s absolutely not against it - if anything, he feels strangely honoured that one of the kids came to him seemingly looking for comfort - but considering how long they’ve known him against how long they’ve known Stan, he has to wonder why. Dipper simply stares at his socked feet instead. 
Were ten year olds always this… small? Both the boy and his sister barely come up to Ford’s - and Stan’s - elbows. Are they just short for their age? What were we like compared to Dad? 
He wonders if it’s a good thing that he’s struggling to remember. 
“I….” Dipper starts, and then seemingly gives up on himself, thin shoulders slumping with a sigh. “Sorry. I just - I dunno. I don’t think Grunkle Stan’s… mad at me, as such, but I kind of… said some things to him yesterday.” He averts his eyes, curling a little further in on himself. 
Of course. Ford’s still smarting at the idea that his brother claimed his name as his own (and almost certainly amassed an impressive criminal record under it). Stan obviously cares about these kids - that part’s so glaringly obvious that even Ford can’t deny it - but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s essentially betrayed them. 
“Well,” Ford concedes, “it’s… a lot to take in. I think you’re handling it better than I might have at the age of ten.”
Dipper looks up at him, stricken. “I’m twelve.”  
Ford makes a mental note to correct his journal entry on the boy later. “I see. My apologies.” 
His great-nephew (and that feels so bizarre to think, knowing that less than forty-eight hours ago he wasn’t even aware of the kid’s existence) just deflates even further. “It’s... okay, I guess. I know I’m short.” He pulls his knees up to his chest. “I mean, it’s just really annoying right now. Grunkle Stan’s really tall - and so are you, actually - and so’s my dad. I guess I can’t be short forever, but… I dunno.” 
Right, their father. Shermie’s boy - David. 
“How is Shermie, anyway?” Ford ventures, and no sooner have the words left his mouth than he wishes he hadn’t asked - because at the mention of their elder brother’s name Stan’s face immediately falls, any light that might have remained leaving his eyes, and that tells Ford pretty much everything he needs to know. 
“What’s your father like?” 
The question leaves Ford’s lips before he even really has the time to think about how random it is. He hasn’t even seen David since… what, Thanksgiving in third year of college? His nephew was barely four or five years old at that point, a rambunctious child with big brown eyes and a mop of chestnut-coloured curls who gleefully ran around their parents’ apartment while Shermie chased after him, throwing out frantic, stuttered apologies in their dad’s direction. It’s crossed Ford’s mind every now and then while jumping between dimensions, but he’s always pushed it away just as quickly, not wanting to dwell on the pain of everything else he threw away the second he shook Bill’s hand. 
Dipper’s seemingly just as taken aback by the question as Ford is, and when he lifts his head to look up at him, brown eyes wide beneath his fluffy chestnut fringe, for a second it’s almost like he’s looking at a carbon copy of David himself… although he thankfully hasn’t inherited the infamous Pines nose. “My dad?” 
“Ah - yes.” Ford coughs, averts his own eyes. “I suppose - well, Mom babysat for Shermie sometimes.” 
Dipper’s brow lifts a little in the light of recognition, before furrowing again in thought. “He’s…” he trails off, visibly searching for the right adjective. “Nice. Kinda goofy, I guess. Mom always says that’s where Mabel gets it from.” 
“What does he do?” Ford presses. 
“He’s a software programmer.” Dipper’s shoulders relax, if only by a fraction. “And Mom’s a lawyer.” 
“A software programmer, huh?” A memory of Fiddleford holding up a laptop prototype with bright, shining eyes briefly floats to the surface, and a stinging pang of regret bounces painfully against the inside of Ford’s ribcage, and he tries to focus on the child sitting next to him - family that he didn’t even know he had. It’s more than he expected, and more than he could have asked for. “Does he work a lot?” 
“Yeah,” Dipper answers, kicking his feet under the seat of the couch. “He has his own business, but he works from home a couple of days a week - and he tries cooking dinner sometimes, but he’s not great at it.” His shoulders twitch beneath his blanket, the shadow of a laugh bubbling up. “One time he made us spaghetti sauce with ramen noodles - it was so gross. When Mom got home we ended up ordering Chinese food instead.”
Ford has to chuckle at that. “You know Shermie was never a great cook, either.” 
Dipper relaxes a little more, and his shoulder bumps against Ford’s elbow as he leans a tiny bit closer. “I don’t remember a whole lot about Grandpa Shermie,” he admits, hesitantly. “Mom always says he really loved us, though. And Dad always took us to the planetarium on our birthday, because he said that was his favourite thing to do with his dad when he was a kid.” 
And even if Ford’s trying to stave off his own looming anxiety about the very real possibility of the world as they know it ending, there’s something in his nephew’s words that lifts his own battle-scarred heart by just a touch. Maybe it’s knowing now that for all he left behind him when he hightailed it out of Backupsmore with two PhDs and a fat research grant cheque, back home Shermie turned out to be a good man, bringing the happy, excitable child Ford once knew as his nephew along that path with him. Seeing that David apparently grew up to be a good man himself, if the little smile that tugs at the corner of Dipper’s mouth when he talks about his parents is anything to go by. 
At least someone in this family of ours turned out to be remotely functional. 
Ford’s next question emerges a little more easily, the distance between them slowly beginning to close in fractional increments. “Did they give you your nickname?” 
The question had already arisen when Stan was catching him up on the family history - the name Mabel is a little old-fashioned, although sweet in its charm, but surely nobody would ever call their child Dipper legitimately? - and Stan had simply shrugged and grunted something along the lines of, ‘Look at the little goofus’s forehead. It’s like someone spilled hot sauce on his face.’ 
He would, if the kid would stop vibrating with anxiety/pen clicks long enough to sit still. Not that it was even necessary, with the carefully inked sketch - which, sure enough, was a dead ringer for the Big Dipper - he’d found flipping through the third journal under the entry titled, ‘Your new author!’. 
He’s ten - no, twelve. Ford won’t hold it against him. 
Back in the present, Dipper nods. “Dad said Grandpa pointed it out to him when we were little and then he couldn’t unsee it, and then they both started calling me Dipper and it just… stuck.” He hugs his knees. “I feel like it fits. My real name’s kind of dumb, anyway.” 
There’s probably not much that could be dumber than naming a pair of twins Stanford and Stanley, but Ford decides not to push it. “Well, it’s certainly unique.” 
Dipper shrugs and averts his gaze, and a silence falls between them… but after a few moments, there’s a soft weight against Ford’s arm as he leans against him. 
Slowly, hesitantly, he lifts his arm to rest it around the boy’s shoulders. He doesn’t know what the hell he’s expecting - but Dipper doesn’t jolt, or flinch away. Instead, he simply shifts to rest his head against Ford’s chest with a soft exhale. 
That in itself can only be a testament to the kind of fathers Shermie and David turned out to be. When Mabel threw her little sweater-clad arms around his neck earlier that night and chirped, “goodnight, Grunkle Ford!”, the wave of longing and affection that surged through his chest was so powerful that it both ached and almost took him off his feet at the same time. 
He’d forgotten what love - and the affection that goes hand in hand with it - felt like, and in one simple hug from a niece he didn’t even know he had, it had come rushing back with all the force of a tsunami. These kids - Mabel especially - are so strangely warm and open, with each other, and with Stan and that young man - what was his name, Zeus? no, Soos - and now with Ford himself, too. And Dipper could barely make eye contact or stop shaking, but in the middle of the night, worn down by exhaustion - and he hasn’t missed the shadows under the boy’s eyes, either - he’s far more subdued, seemingly removed from the stammering, gagging ball of pen-clicking anxiety that had first greeted him after he’d set foot back in this world. 
Either way, they’re certainly a far cry from himself and Stan. 
Belatedly, Ford realises that his eyes are stinging a little, and he awkwardly clears his throat. Dipper doesn’t say anything. Beneath his fringe, his eyes are distant, and Ford can only wonder what he’s thinking. 
“Is…” he winces at how his own voice breaks the silence, but they’ve already crossed this line. He doesn’t even know what it means to be an uncle, but if something’s bothering the kid, he wants to help. “Is there... another reason you can’t sleep, Dipper?” 
This town’s fascinating, but it’s also dangerous, and in those six years he lived here Ford had more than his fair share of close shaves. Dipper’s thin arms are covered by his blanket right now, but during the day, the thin lines and dots of scars and scrapes that traverse his skin haven’t escaped Ford’s attention. 
Ford can only wonder what he’s seen, and he hopes to God it’s not the same thing that sparked his own suffocating paranoia. 
He can feel Dipper’s shoulders stiffen beneath his forearm, and for a few long moments, another silence descends. 
When Dipper does answer, his voice is quiet, partially muffled by his comforter. “S-sometimes it’s just…” he trails off, shifting slightly against Ford’s chest. “Difficult.” 
It doesn’t exactly provide much of an explanation, and Ford sighs. It was probably a step too far to expect Dipper to open up right away - if anything, he’s grateful for the way he’s here with him now, even if it’s explicitly against Stan’s wishes. 
Dipper’s voice breaks the quiet once again. “Anyway… I wanna know more about you. Like…” he trails off, searching. “What were you and Grunkle Stan like when you were twelve?” 
A laugh bubbles up in Ford’s chest at the innocence of the question. It’s a lifetime ago now, like Stan had said. Before they thought anything could ever break them apart, when they were just two identical best friends - brothers, even - with a dream of sailing away from their shitty little town. 
“Didn’t Stan already tell you? He was a troublemaker and I was… well, a nerd, I suppose.” 
Dipper leans against his side, relaxing once again - and it’s a relief. If they have to do this on his terms, that’s fine. Hopefully the kid might open up to him when he’s ready, whenever that may be. “I mean… we heard Stan’s side of the story. I guess I wanted to hear yours.” 
Ford casts his mind back. “Well, Stan wasn’t wrong - he was a troublemaker.” A chuckle. “But then again, I suppose I wasn’t entirely innocent either…” 
The stories flow from him more easily than he would expect them to - for some reason, it doesn’t hurt as much to tell Dipper, who listens, giggles here and there, occasionally interjects with some quip or aside that shows Ford that for all that’s happened in the last forty or fifty years, there are parts of his brother that haven’t necessarily changed. With each story he recalls, hazy days gone by that leave his lips as a shared memory, Dipper slumps a little further into his lap - and in some complete paradox, the heavier the kid rests against him, the lighter his heart feels. 
Somewhere in the back of his mind as he’s regaling Dipper with the tale of Fiddleford’s disastrous attempt at a college open mic night - guest starring that godforsaken banjo - he wonders if it might be worth revising the entry he wrote about the kid in the third journal. 
It’s still painful to think about Fiddleford, though, and Ford hopes that one day he’ll get the chance to apologise. 
Even so, it still comes back to Stan. It often does. And for some reason, it’s easier to separate them in his mind - Stanley, the goofy, scrappy little smartass with half his front teeth missing who always pulled Ford up by his armpits when bullies knocked him down and tried to pin most of his mishaps on Shanklin the possum, and Stan, the exhausted, hollow-eyed stranger in a hooded jacket who showed up on his doorstep on that fateful day in 1982… who’s evidently reinvented himself as the man they now know as Stanford Pines, with a fez perched atop his now-grey hair and lies and blatant falsehoods falling from his lips. 
“It’s kind of crazy imagining Grunkle Stan as a kid,” Dipper murmurs. He looks like he’s having a progressively harder time trying to keep his eyes open. “Like… Mabel and I only ever knew him as this weird old scam artist guy.” 
Ford can feel the smile tug at his lips. Dipper and Mabel are going to grow up one day, too, and he hopes he’ll be able to witness it. “Well, we were all children once.”
It’s like he’s taking a back seat to himself as he tells Dipper these stories from another life. If he thinks about Stan and what they’ve become, it hurts - even if it’s dulled into a detached ache over the years, the occasional wave comes, raw and fresh, and it’s sharp like a knife. If he thinks about Stanley, it still hurts - but the edges are softened by the miasma that nostalgia casts over everything, and that’s not quite as painful. At least back then, he knew some sort of happiness, and at least he can vaguely recall what it felt like. 
He can’t stop the chuckle that escapes him at the memory of Stan trying to convince their mother that the person who set off the whole school’s sprinklers and took off into the distance shouting ‘that’s how Stan Pines does it, suckers!’ was someone trying to frame him, and the way she’d absolutely eviscerated him in response. 
“...and that was the last time Stanley ever lied to our mom.” 
There’s no response from Dipper this time - no giggle, or eye-roll, or dry quip - and he looks down to see that the kid’s drifted off in his lap, head pillowed against Ford’s thigh as he breathes, slow and soft. 
Well. In fairness, that was pretty much what he came down here for. Objective achieved… more or less. 
Tentatively, he runs his hand over Dipper’s hair. It’s a complete bird’s nest - he obviously doesn’t brush it that often - but it’s thick and fluffy, just like David’s had been as a child. The heavy curtain of Mabel’s long tresses that had hit him in the face when she’d hugged him had been more or less the same. 
Twins run in the family, he’d written in the journal. It’s a comforting thought - if anything, knowing that they hopefully won’t turn out like him and Stan. 
He hadn’t wanted to throw it away - neither of them had, but Stan had no idea what he was dealing with, and if he had any inkling of just how dangerous the forces he was messing with were, most likely didn’t care. Irresponsible and knuckleheaded to a fault, from childhood to now - and honestly, probably to eternity. 
As a scientist, Ford is used to determining things by probability and likelihood. Each situation has a predetermined number of potential outcomes… but sometimes, something greater - fate, the universe - has a hand in things. And maybe this time, she’s granted Ford a second chance of sorts. There’s a second generation of Pines twins, and they might have the potential to be better than he and Stan ever were. 
“Alright, my boy,” he mutters to the one currently sleeping in his lap. “Let’s get you back into your own bed before Stan notices.”
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Hey, I'd like to say that I'm very glad you've brought your Hermione x Draco x Theo to tumblr. Your ficlets are brilliant! As a prompt, what do you make of Hermione and Theo jumping to Draco's defence when he's on the receiving end of verbal abuse in Diagon Alley??
Thank you so much!! Here’s a longer one for you. I hope you enjoy it!
Featuring the trio on a shopping trip to Diagon Alley, and a cameo from Harry and Ginny too because I love the platonic friendship between them, and I want everyone to be friends in the end...
Obvious warnings for verbal abuse directed at Draco (and Hermione to a certain extent).
___
“I need to pop into Flourish and Blotts before we go for drinks. Harry and Ginny won’t mind if we’re a bit late…” Hermione said almost apologetically, but Draco just chuckled and bowed his head, ushering her in front of him with a courtly wave of his pale hand. It might have looked obsequious to anyone else, but the self-deprecating humour in his eyes made her heart clench.  
Stepping close to him as she passed, Hermione pressed her palms to his chest and surprised him with a kiss to his still-smiling lips. If the flush in his cheeks was anything to go by, he hadn’t been expecting the gesture.  
Before either of them had the chance to do anything else, however, someone spat and hissed at them from behind Hermione. “Death Eater scum,” the middle aged man sneered. “We don’t want the likes of you here, polluting Diagon Alley!  And you, Miss Granger, should be ashamed of yourself - consorting with Death Eaters…”
Hermione saw red.  
Theo didn’t draw his wand, but immediately put himself between Hermione and the wizard while Draco stood perfectly still behind them, jaw clenched, the recent flush evaporating to leave glacially white skin.  
“How dare you!” she shrilled at the man while Theo’s dark blue eyes fixed him to the spot. The usually bookish, scholarly young man now had a poise and readiness to him that spoke of a master of spellcrafting. A flick of his wrist could have had untold consequences for the offending man, and his furious, ashen face showed it. His height - towering over Draco, Hermione, and the vile little man at nearly six foot four - may have contributed too.  
“Draco Malfoy has been commended by the Minister for Magic himself, for his bravery at the end of the war in not betraying Harry Potter when it would have been the easiest thing in the world to speak his name. How dare you make such assumptions! And where were you anyway? Where were you while children fought against Voldemort? And won!”  
“Hermione,” Theo murmured warily, turning to face her slightly. His fingers curled around his wand, out of sight but ready in his pocket.
Nostrils flared, Hermione drew a deep breath and fell silent, though her eyes never left the wizard standing nearby. He looked suddenly a little sweaty around the temples.  
Theo turned back to him and said in a low, dangerous voice, “I suggest you leave now, and keep comments like that to yourself from now on, hmm? Better yet, open your fucking mind, ok?” And when the wizard seemed rooted to the spot by the ferocity of the reaction his words had elicited, Theo raised one eyebrow and jutted his chin at him, and the man finally scuttled off, coming to his senses in a rush.  
Almost shaking with rage, Hermione turned back to look at Draco. The young man stood statue-still, watching the two of them with an inscrutable expression on his pinched face.  
“Draco?” Theo murmured, leaving Hermione’s side and crossing to him, cupping his face with an elegant hand. He kissed him gently on the lips and Draco’s eyelids fluttered, lashes glinting like silver leaf.  
“Let’s go,” he rasped, turning away and breaking the contact. 
As Draco walked off alone up the cobbled street, Hermione and Theo exchanged a wordless look, linked hands, and followed after him. Their stay in Flourish and Blotts was not long, the jubilant atmosphere now somewhat crushed, and in fact they arrived at The Leaky Cauldron a little earlier than planned. There was no sign of the others yet either, so once they were ensconced with their drinks in a private corner near the back of the ancient warren of a pub, Hermione placed her hand on Draco’s solid, slender thigh and squeezed. “Are you alright?”
His head snapped up and he met her gaze with glistening, moon-bright eyes. “Am I alright?” he asked in a breathless, incredulous whisper. “Hermione, are you?”  
She frowned, visibly taken aback by the question. “I’m not the one who was just openly called a Death Eater, Draco,” she growled through clenched teeth.  
To her surprise, Draco’s expression melted at that, his shoulders dropped, and his whole body grew soft and tender. He reached falteringly for her cheek and brushed the knuckles of his left hand reverently over her flushed skin. “You’re so beautiful,” he breathed.  
“Draco?”  
His lips tugged upwards into a tiny, private smile, and the warmth returned to his silver eyes. He dropped his hand back to his lap. “I’m fine. It’s hardly the worst I’ve ever been called. I’m just sorry you got tarred with the same brush.”  
When that only deepened the scowl on her face, he sighed.  
“Hermione, that’s… What happened today is not going to be an uncommon occurrence if you stay with us. Theo’s… more of a grey area for them, what with his relative anonymity. Despite his father’s… associations… he’s much less well known. You’re —” he shrugged expressively in her direction, “— Hermione Granger. Everyone in the wizarding world knows your face.”
“Then they’d better get used to seeing it next to yours,” she said, eyes blazing. She snatched up Draco’s hand and set her other one palm-up on the table for Theo to slide his into. Connected like that, she felt that familiar thrum of magic run between them, free and easy as a water droplet down a pane of glass. “Both of you. We just… work together, Draco; we fit. And I’m not going to back down or bow out just because people think they know everything about you just from one moment in your life, Draco.”
He swallowed thickly, blinking rapidly, and looked at Theo, finding the same quiet passion roiling in his sapphire eyes. Theo nodded slowly. “Get used to it, Draco. Our Gryffindor lioness is terribly protective of us too, you know?”
A wry smile twisted Draco’s full lips up into a lopsided grin. “A lioness with a snake beneath each paw, huh?”
“You’d better believe it,” she said, breaking their handholds to lean over and take a gulp of his whisky.  
“Starting the drinks without us?” came a familiar, amused voice from behind her, and she made a noise of surprise behind the mouthful of firewhisky.
She set Draco’s tumbler down, amber liquid sloshing around, and looked over her shoulder to see Ginny and Harry standing there hand in hand, both smiling.
Harry’s trained gaze - as both auror and friend - took in the vivid sheen to her eyes, the flush in her cheeks, and the tension in her shoulders, and he tilted his head. “Everything alright?” he asked in a quiet voice as she stood to greet him.  
She nodded. “Yeah. Thanks,” she said, and threw her arms around his neck and squeezed him so hard he coughed. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
“I exist as well, you know?” Ginny snorted as Hermione finally released the young woman’s fiancé. The laughter in Ginny’s voice chased away the last of Hermione’s lingering ire and sadness, and she flung herself with equal fervour at her too.  
When they parted, Hermione slid in beside Theo this time, who nodded at the others. “Ginny, Harry, lovely to see you,” he said warmly.  
“Likewise,” Harry grinned. “Though I’d have thought that Hermione would have loaded you both up with books like pack mules after a visit to Diagon Alley… Where are they all?”
“We didn’t stay long in Flourish and Blotts this time,” she said carefully. “Plus, I’ve got my bag anyway…” she said, with special emphasis.  
“Ah,” he said. “I’ll forget I saw that then, Hermione,” the auror chuckled.
Ginny, still standing, looked at Malfoy and unleashed a deadly grin at him; all teeth. “Ferret,” she said without bite.  
“Weasel,” he returned fondly as she slid into the seat beside him. “Good to see you. Congratulations on making the team,” he added.
Ginny blushed and Hermione looked at her. “You made chaser?”
“First chaser now,” she said, freckles obliterated by the rising colour.  
“Ginny, that’s fantastic!” Hermione practically shrieked. Theo even put his finger comically in his ear and she thwacked him on the arm for it. “Shut up, you,” she snorted affectionately at him and he flashed her his trademark, dimpled grin. “That’s amazing news. Let us get you a drink to celebrate!”  
As the banter flitted between the five of them, the wizard’s comments from the Alley were slowly forgotten. The laughter returned to Draco’s silver eyes as he watched Hermione gesticulating with her hands over her gin and tonic, and he smiled when he caught Theo shifting the drink a little further towards him for safety. A lump formed in his throat that no amount of whisky would ever wash down.  
Much later that night, as he lay with Hermione’s head pillowed on his chest, her curls all over the pillow beside them, and with Theo tucked up on his side next to him, snoring softly, a few wayward twists of his hair tickling Draco’s forehead, Draco stroked his fingers through Hermione’s hair and pressed a kiss to the crown of her head.  
She shifted, the movement a sleepy question in itself, and he sighed, leaving another kiss there amid her wild hair before whispering, “I love you, Granger.”
“I love you too, Malfoy,” she mumbled.  
The arm slung across his chest tightened momentarily, but it did nothing to still the swirling cloud of silver butterflies that fluttered around inside his ribcage at her words. Those words would never get old or tired, no matter how long he lived or how old and tired he got.  
With one final kiss each to Theo and Hermione, Draco finally let himself drift off to sleep.
___
If you enjoyed, please reblog and share! I’m new to the fandom on here and appreciate all the help I can get!
___
writing masterlist | Ao3
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Map of the Soul, Chapter One
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For the @btswritingcafe​‘s Map of the Soul: 7 Workshop
Author’s Note: This story pulled me into long range territory, so I had to split it into 7 chapters to make it more manageable on Tumblr. Here is the first installment of this journey through the soul. I hope you like it!  
Pairings: OT7 x reader (kinda); Jungkook x reader
Series Summary: If you give a piece of yourself to everyone you love, at some point, there will be nothing left for yourself. While feeling lost and alone in your adult life, a strange box falls onto your head in your own closet, and you take an unexpected walk down memory lane wondering where everything went wrong.  Was it the romances that fizzled out, the friends & loved ones you left behind, the “what could’ve been” moments, the brush with Fate that never quite connected? Could the strange map you find have the answers you are looking for?  Determined to feel complete once again, you embark on a journey to reclaim the missing pieces of your soul.
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut
Word Count: 8K+
Warnings: NSFW 18+ cursing/profanity, alcohol consumption, sexual tension,  one night stand, sexual content, protected sex, oral sex (female receiving)
Chapter One: There’s Always Time for Euphoria
March 15th - 5:45pm
Done.
That was the singular thought pulsating in your brain as you parked the car. The day was only halfway over and you were way past the breaking point of your own sanity.
From the moment you’d stepped out of bed and into your urine soaked house slippers, you should’ve known that the day was going to be beyond disastrous. Even as you washed them in the tub and left them hanging to dry, you just knew the rest of the day would be a downhill slide.
You didn’t know why your dog Oberyn was upset, but apparently, it was enough to prompt his indiscretion on your only pair of house slippers. He’d even had the audacity to sit in his bed and glare at you while you hurled your anger and frustration at him as you got dressed for your day.
I don’t know what crawled up his butt this morning, but I hope he’s in a better mood. I’m in no condition to deal with his bullshit right now.
After almost tripping up the stairs to your apartment entrance and dropping your keys into the bushes on the way up, you finally made it across the threshold. You quickly changed out your work shoes for sneakers and got Oberyn ready for his walk. Fifteen minutes later, you were cleaning the bottom of your shoe after a happy little accident found your foot at the dog park. Oberyn seemed to smirk at your misfortune, but you couldn’t even muster the energy to care.
Once you both returned to the apartment, you put his harness and leash away and reached over to grab his after-walk treats. You noticed one was already out on top of the container and the morning’s havoc immediately made sense. Oberyn wagged his tail and waited patiently for his treats and a well deserved apology.
“I’m sorry, buddy,” you sighed, handing him both treats. “I didn’t realize I’d forgotten to give this to you.”
He accepted your apology and head pats, then happily grabbed both snacks and ran to eat them on his bed. You shook your head and smiled at the easily appeased creature.
If only everything worked like that. You get something you were missing and it suddenly solves all your problems. The Universe finally makes sense again. What a life!
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You quickly changed into comfy clothes and collapsed unceremoniously onto the couch. The random assortment of unfortunate events of the day replayed like a blooper reel in your mind and you groaned at the stacks of embarrassment and humiliation you’d endured.
You’d locked yourself out of your office and the university maintenance guy took forever to unlock it for you, which made you late to your first class. You had to dismiss the class and reschedule the quiz since all the copies were sitting on your desk in your locked office.
You’d torn your favorite black slacks and had to patch them with bright green thread from your emergency sewing kit.
You’d sustained several injuries including three paper cuts, a stubbed toe, your knee knocking the underside of a table, and a staple stabbing underneath your fingernail.
You’d spilled coffee down the front of your blouse when a fly unexpectedly dove into your face.
You’d even lost one of your favorite earrings while taking off your scarf outside the Humanities building. It was now lost among the clumps of mud by the front door.
Why does the Universe hate me so much today?
RIIIIINNGGG!!
You swiveled your head over to your cell phone screeching at you from the side table. The comical picture of your mother flashing on the screen drew a groan of exasperation from your throat.
I can’t deal with her right now.
The phone ceased its machinations and you turned into the couch seeking an escape from the tragedies of the day.
RIIIIINNGGG!!
“Argh!” You wailed. “What could she possibly need from me right now?!”
After taking a deep breath, you picked up the offending device and swiped the screen to answer the call.
“Hello, mother,” you grumbled. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Oh, sweetheart,” she sighed. “Don’t talk to your mother like that. It’s undignified.”
“I apologize,” you corrected with fake cheerfulness. “Hi, Mommy! I missed the sound of your voice. How was your day?”
“We really need to work on your phone etiquette, honey,” your mother groaned. “You’ll never meet anyone with that attitude.”
“Yes, mother,” you replied snarkily. “My goal in life is to trap someone in my love nest with only my wit and wisdom as weapons.”
“Anyway,” she drawled. “The reason I’m calling is because I’m looking for something. Do you remember that stole you wore for your college graduation? The one your grandmother made?”
“Yeah, I remember,” you responded. “It has all the graduate names from our family embroidered on it. It’s in my memory box in the closet. Why?”
“Your cousin Sana is graduating from college in about a week,” she announced happily. “I need that stole so we can get it embroidered before the graduation ceremony. Can you overnight it to me, darling?”
You leaned back on the couch and released a sigh of defeat.
Of course other people are doing great things in their life. I’m the only dumbass stuck in a rut right now.
“I’ll dig it out of the closet and send it to you tomorrow,” you replied. “Let me know when and where the graduation will be so I can make plans to head down.”
“Splendid,” your mom chirped. “I’m sure everyone will be happy to see you. Get some rest, honey. You sound tired. Love you!”
Without giving you a chance to respond, your mom ended the call. You looked at the screen and rolled your eyes.
She gets what she needs and then she’s gone. Typical.
Knowing you would probably forget to do it later, you wandered over to your spare closet, grabbing the stepladder along the way.
Might as well get this over with.
You climbed up on the ladder and pulled on the chain for the light above your head. You couldn’t stifle the groan from escaping when you spied the piles of plastic containers and boxes on the upper shelf.
Why is my life such a hot mess?
You started pulling down boxes one by one to avoid an accidental avalanche. The collection of dust and crumpled cardboard left you sneezing and gagging on stuffy air and a faint smell of mothballs.
After clearing your throat and taking a sip of water, you looked up and spotted the box you’d been looking for.
Just one more box to move.
The box in question had shifted slightly and was wedged against the ceiling at an odd angle. Try as you might, you couldn’t get it to budge. With a huff of annoyance, you balanced yourself on the top of the stepladder and pushed up to get closer to the box. You heaved your palms against the side of the box and it gave away before you could regain your balance. You crashed into an uncomfortable heap on the floor and whined loudly as you felt the painful throb on your ankle.
After a quick assessment, you discover no other injuries except for a slightly swollen ankle and a sizable knot on the top of your head.
What the hell hit my head?
You glanced around and saw three different boxes scattered around you. One was the memory box you’d been trying to get, one was the previously wedged prisoner box, and the other was completely foreign. You stood up and walked over to lift it from among the clatter on the floor.
This isn’t mine. Is it?
You brushed off the subtle cobwebs and dust and revealed a collection of stickers and decals that were strikingly familiar. Most depicted the many fandoms you followed, but others appeared to be nothing more than artfully scribbled words in elegant script.
Time. Destiny. Passion. Happiness. Faith. Friendship. Love.
You turned the box over in your hands and furrowed your brows quizzically. You didn’t remember ever seeing the box before and it certainly wasn’t there when you originally packed the closet full of your crap.
A loud text message tone pulled you out of your reverie and you abandoned the box on the counter in search of your phone.
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Ah yes, we have to keep the tradition going.
Your grandmother and her sentimentality were time consuming, but also adorable. She wanted to stress the importance of education in the family, but also find a way to keep everyone connected from generation to generation. It was her insistence that solidified this current graduation tradition.
You opened the memory box and lifted the neatly folded stole in its plastic bag and the small scrapbook decorated with graduation memorabilia. You took a moment to reminisce about your prior accomplishments and then placed the items on the counter. After cleaning up the mess on the floor and carefully returning everything to the closet, you limped over to the kitchen and poured yourself another glass of water.
On your third gulp, your eyes landed on the mysterious box again. It was no bigger than a shoe box, but was definitely sturdier. Curiosity got the better of you and you inspected it a little more closely.
There was a tarnished metal knob that needed to be turned in order to lift the lid. The glossy surface appeared to be varnished or glazed so that the stickers and words would remain fixed. There was no lock, so you decided to open it.
You didn’t know what to expect when you opened the lid, but it certainly wasn’t what you found.
Laying on top of a folded piece of paper were seven items: a rubber banana keychain, a cute little hamburger toy, a metallic purple kazoo, a gold sequined bow tie on an elastic band, a red beanie dragon plush, a spoon with a floral design, and a thin metal disc with an assortment of holes. You tentatively inspected each item and placed it on the counter.
What the hell is all this?
You lifted the folded paper out of the box and looked underneath. All that was left at the bottom of the box was a quote etched into the surface.
My life and yours are an equal sign, So my remedy is your remedy.
You read the phrase over a few times and couldn’t make sense of it. It seemed familiar, but you couldn’t place it. You turned the folded paper over in your hands a few times and then unfolded it. It’s a fairly large sheet and it resembled parchment. At first glance, the image on the paper looked like an intricate abstract drawing. There were large lines of ink brushed across in elaborate swirls resembling a disjointed heart.
The swirling lines were connected by smudges of charcoal across from blocks of text in colorful ink. There were seven smudges with lines of text to the left of each smudge. You couldn’t make sense of it, but there did seem to be some type of pattern implied. The lines flowed from left to right increasing in width and each successive line grew wider as it progressed to the other side of the page.
You studied the lightest portion of the drawing and read the lines of text next to this first smudge.
Were you wandering around Looking for an erased dream too? It’s different from the typical definition of destiny. Your pained eyes are looking at the same place as me. Won't you please stay in dreams?
The words were certainly poetic, but you didn’t understand their significance. You glanced at the other phrases and they seemed just as cryptic.
What the hell am I looking at? Why would something like this be in my closet?
You were too exhausted to think too much on it, so you shrugged your shoulders and folded the paper and placed it back in the box. You left everything else on the counter and decided that it was time for a shower and then bedtime. As you lay in bed, you exhaled heavily and focused on the hope that tomorrow would be better than today.
March 17th - St. Patrick’s Day - 4:27pm
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Oh no...please don’t let her find me in here.
“Ok, no arguments,” Gina chirped in excitement as she pranced through your office door. “It’s time for green beer and dancing!”
Damn, she’s quick!
You lowered your head to your desk and groaned out slightly and silently scolded yourself for not leaving the office earlier to avoid her completely. It was much easier to avoid Gina if you were already out of the office, but once she had you cornered, it was almost impossible to tell her no. She was your favorite faculty member and the only person at work that you would consider hanging out with outside of the university.
Gina had been trying to get you to go out for months, and after a long week of midterm exams, you couldn’t find the energy to counter her offer. Besides, you were now, technically, on Spring Break.
“Come on, girl,” she pleaded. “You know I’m leaving for Acapulco the day after tomorrow with my sisters. If I can get you out of your stuffy apartment and into an Irish bar for a little St. Patty’s Day fun, then I can truly enjoy my vacation. You know how I worry about my work-bestie when I’m not around.”
She pouted at you and batted her long eyelashes, and you almost cackled at her adorable puppy dog look. You half expected her to start whining at you like Oberyn would when he wanted something. Maybe that image in your head that weakened your resolve against her proposal for a St. Patrick’s Day outing.
“Fine,” you acquiesced. “Where are we going, Gina?”
She squealed in excitement and twirled around with glee. You tried to resist the growing enthusiasm, but you quickly gave in with a sigh and a smile.
“Fine. Let me finish up here and we can go to my apartment,” you suggested. “I guess I’ll need you to help me pick out an outfit for tonight.”
Gina nodded happily and ran upstairs to collect her things. Once you finished packing everything away, she was hopping around in anticipation at your office door. Her bunny antics made you giggle.
Such funny friends I have.
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March 17th - St. Patrick’s Day - 10:37pm
After a quick dinner of sushi, you were pushing your way through the crowded Irish bar back to the booth where Gina was entertaining her latest acquisition. The guy was certainly handsome, but he only had eyes for Gina. You had another set of drinks for the two of you, but upon discovering the entwined couple making out in the booth, you decided to retreat to give them some privacy.
Typical. She invites me out and then she ditches me for a pretty face.
You wandered back toward the bar and gazed at the writhing mass of bodies under the flashing lights on the dance floor. Desperate to lose yourself in the moment, you downed the two drinks and relished the flavor of Guiness and Bailey’s on your tongue.  If Gina was going to have fun, then so were you. You motioned the bartender over and ordered a Jameson & Ginger Ale.
“A whiskey girl, huh?” exclaimed a sultry voice behind you. “Much better than those Appletini chicks.”
Ah, yes, the pick up line. At least his voice is sexy. Let’s hope the rest of him matches.
You couldn’t decide whether to be amused or annoyed, so you decided to let his face make the decision for you. You turned around prepared to give him your best smirk, but lost your nerve once you saw who it was.
“Jungkook?” you replied in squeak. “What are you doing here?!”
Pure amusement filled his doe eyes and he huffed out a laugh. You were floored that your secret hopes of your mystery man being handsome were completely dashed. In fact, he didn’t just have a sexy voice, he was also drop dead gorgeous. You hadn’t seen Jeon Jungkook in almost 7 years, and he hadn’t aged a day. Back when you were both still working on your undergraduate degrees, you’d been his writing tutor on campus, spending countless hours pouring over research papers and essays that needed serious revision and editing.
So many late nights spent at each other’s apartments, so many long hours in the private study rooms, so many casual touches, missed opportunities, awkward moments, and those long nights alone in your bed where you wished his strong arms were holding you. There was no denying the sexual tension you’d felt back then, and there was certainly no denying it now.
Now, here he was leaning on the bar in his billowy shirt and dark ripped jeans looking like some kind of Greek god holding a glass of bourbon.  You quickly cleared the inebriation out of your brain and tried to appear sober and sane while you smoothed out your ruffled hair.
“So,” Jungkook smirked while pulling you closer. “I’m guessing you weren’t expecting to see me here, huh?”
“Ummm, no,” you admitted sheepishly. “I didn’t even know you were back in town. I haven’t seen you in years. What are you doing here?”
“I just took a job here,” Jungkook stated simply. “Just hanging out with my new coworkers for the night. I saw you and thought I’d say hi, but I wasn’t expecting you to look so enticing though. You’re not here with your boyfriend or husband, are you?”
“Is that your subtle way of asking if I’m still single?” you popped your eyebrow at him. “And enticing, really? Still trying to pick me up, Kookie?”
He smiled a bright bunny grin at his old nickname. You were the only one who would ever call him that and he would never admit just how much he loved it.
“Oh, did you want me to try?,” he continued while reaching up to run his hands up and down your arms. “Hmmmm, where should I begin, babygirl?”
He pulled his lip between his lips and shot you a smoldering look while flipping his hair slightly. You tried to look disinterested, but you lost your composure when he reached up to push a lock up hair behind your ear. Your breath caught in your throat as he moved in between your legs.  
“I mean it, you know?” Jungkook insisted while locking eyes with you. “You still look incredible.”
The bartender returned with your drink at that moment. Thankful for a little distraction, you lifted the glass of liquid courage to your lips. You swallowed a large gulp of swirling heady sweetness and smiled at Jungkook. He was watching you with stars in his eyes and you were enjoying every minute of it.
“So what are you doing these days, Kookie?” you asked, trying to shift his gaze elsewhere. “Are you still playing with your camera and crayons?”
Jungkook laughed and rolled his eyes at your insinuation. As an art major, Jungkook dabbled in several mediums including painting, sculpture, photography, graphic design, and drawing. The boy was insanely talented, so you were actually curious about where he’d ended up career-wise.
“I just took a job at an advertising agency,” he replied with a cocked eyebrow. “And no, I’m not playing with crayons, smartass. I’m their new Assistant Art Director, so I’m mostly working on graphic designs and managing their photography department.”
“Look at you,” you grinned. “Little Kookie all grown up and making big bucks as an actual adult.”
“I was always an adult,” he corrected. “Someone just always chose to treat me like a little kid.”
“Not always,” you shot back. “It’s not my fault you had a tendency to act like an idiot teenager sometimes.”
“Fair point,” he conceded. “But we all have to grow up sometimes, right? Except you, I guess. Looking at you, I could never guess that so much time has passed since I last saw you. You honestly look amazing.”
He leaned in and ran his nose along your neck up to your ear, inhaling deeply as he grazed your skin. He hummed happily as the intoxicating scent of your perfume hit his nostrils.
“You smell amazing too,” he sighed against your ear. “I bet you haven’t thought about me once since I last saw you.”
“Well, that’s a lie,” you smirked. “I’ve thought about you quite a lot actually. You, sir, are one of my big regrets from college.”
“Oh yeah?” Jungkook chuckled lightly while nipping at your earlobe. “Why is that, babygirl?”
You nearly purred at his touch and you hissed lightly when you felt Jungkook’s lips attached themselves to your neck.
“Oh, you’re such a fucking tease, Kookie.” you whined. “How am I supposed to think clearly when you’re doing that?”
“What?” he mused. “I’m not doing anything you don’t want me to, am I?”
You pushed on his chest slightly and he pulled away just enough to rub his nose along your own. You felt his breath ghost across your face and you allowed the smell of bourbon to mix in with his fresh scent.
“Kookie,” you sighed. “How much have you had to drink?”
He wrinkled his brow in confusion and stepped back to look at your face, searching for some explanation for your implied accusation. You weren’t trying to sound like you were chastising him for drinking, but you couldn’t shake the insecurity itching under your skin. It was entirely possible that Jungkook was just feeling a little tipsy from the evening and his familiarity with you was the cause of his brazen behavior. It wouldn’t be the first time, but you weren’t about to let a longtime crush be ruined because of a questionable drunken daze. Jungkook picked up on your train of thought and placed his drink on the bar.  
“I hope you’re not insinuating that I’m only hitting on you because I’ve been drinking,” he scowled. “You should know better than that. I’ve been hitting on you since before I was able to buy my own alcohol, remember?”
“Yeah,” you giggled. “I remember having to sneak you into a few clubs back in the day.”
“Exactly,” he bragged. “So don’t try to make it sound like I’m just some random drunken idiot trying to get into your pants. I’m the same Jungkook who would look down your shirt or pull you into his lap in the hopes of making out with you. I mean, I’m still trying to get into your pants, but at least it’s not something new.”
“Still, huh?” you prompted after downing the rest of your drink. “Well, it’s going to take more than a little flirting to get into my pants, Kookie. You want to dance? I want to see if you still got those sexy moves, Kookie.”
He giggled and then finished his own drink with haste. He grabbed your hand to help you off the barstool and you pulled him toward the chaotic dance floor.
You shook off your previous nerves and worked your way into the pulsating mass of dancers. The music was thumping out a steady bass line and you swayed your hips back and forth to the beat. You weren’t sure if Jungkook noticed your attempt at seduction, but within moments, a pair of strong hands attached themselves to your gyrating hips. Given your vaguely inebriated state, you had no problem relinquishing a little control to your sexy suitor.
You encouraged Jungkook’s boldness by pushing your ass back into his crotch, grinding onto his growing erection. He leaned into your body and pulled you closer.  His lips ghosted a kiss on your exposed shoulder and then nipped at your neck playfully. The pleased sigh that left your lips prompted a dark chuckle from him.
“So naughty,” he murmured into your ear. “If you keep on grinding onto my dick like that, I’ll have to take action, babygirl.”
You leaned your head back onto his shoulder and reached up to grip his wavy hair. He groaned softly as you tugged on the roots and his hips thrusted against your ass. You quickly calculated how long it had been since you’d had sex and decided that it was time to update your calendar.
“Oh yeah?” you taunted. “I’ll accept that challenge.”
You turned in his grasp and locked onto his lips with your own. He hesitated for a moment, but pushed back with his own lips in seconds. They were unbelievably soft and his fervent kisses ignited an inferno in your center. You decided to take it a bit further and you swiped your tongue across the seam of his lips. He moaned slightly in response and dove into your mouth with his own tongue. Once you bit down on his bottom lip, you both decided it was time to move to a more secure location.
He turned away from the crowd and pulled you behind him toward the bar. You both quickly closed out your tabs and made your way to the exit. Once you were both outside, you pounced on him and pushed him into the brick exterior, unable to contain your lust any longer. Jungkook appeared flustered by your eagerness and took a moment to gather his bearings.
“As much I would love to lose myself in this moment,” Jungkook huffed while pulling away from your hungry lips. “Maybe we should decide on a place with softer surfaces.”
You glanced at the vacant alleyway next to you and the brightly lit city street and frowned.
“Sorry,” you apologized. “Kinda forgot where I was for a second there.”
“Really?” Jungkook grinned and kissed your forehead. “You could’ve fooled me.”
“Let me call an Uber,” you volunteered. “My place isn’t too far from here.”
Once you were both in the Uber, you couldn’t stop touching and smiling at each other. The driver commented on the “happy couple,” and you didn’t have to heart to correct the old man.
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Once you were both inside your apartment, Jungkook pushed you against your front door and started nipping lazily along your jaw.
Jungkook stroked his thumbs along your sides and leaned in to kiss your flushed cheeks. You sighed happily in response and ran your hands up his firm chest and rested them on his shoulders.
“Jungkook,” you began. “I didn’t think I’d ever run into you again. I haven’t seen you since my undergraduate graduation party.”
“I tried to see more of you that night,” Jungkook admitted while stroking your hair. “But someone disappeared in the middle of the party with their friend, Jimin.”
You flushed further at his words, remembering that night a little more clearly now that he’d brought it up. You and your former friend with benefits had indeed disappeared that night to have a little undergraduate graduation celebration of your own. By the time the two of you rejoined the party, Jungkook was long gone.
“Sorry about that,” you muttered. “I honestly didn’t think you’d be interested. You always had so many girls pining for you, I never thought you’d give me a second glance.”
“Are you kidding?” Jungkook scoffed. “I’ve wanted you since our first tutoring session. I could barely concentrate with you wearing that tank top and those little shorts. What kind of tutor shows up wearing something like that?”
“It was summer,” you countered. “It was over 100 degrees. What was I supposed to wear? A parka?”
You both giggled at that, and it broke the tension that was building since you recognized him. Feeling encouraged, you started lightly scratching his shoulders and chest, noting the stiff pebbles you grazed down the front of his shirt.
“So what now?” you asked. “Do we just keep reminiscing about old times until the sun comes up?”
You gently popped the top button from his shirt to reveal more of his deliciously tanned skin. Jungkook bit his lip and lifted an eyebrow suggestively.
“I think we’ve talked enough,” he grinned wickedly. “There are better ways to spend our time.”
Your eyes locked and you could almost feel the searing arousal growing between you. You gently pushed him away from you and then started walking toward your bedroom, tossing your shoes aside along the way. At the edge of the living room, you lifted your dress over your head and tossed it on the couch. Jungkook smirked and continued to unbutton his shirt while walking toward you. His taut muscles caused your thighs to clench in anticipation.
“Are you enjoying the view, baby?” Jungkook purred while looking you up and down. “I know I am.”
He unbuckled his belt and tugged at the buttons on his jeans. You stepped forward to help him, but got too caught up in touching his bare skin to be of any use. You pulled Jungkook’s lips to your own just as he leaned forward to pull his pants down. He was caught off balance, but quickly recovered after using his feet to pull the troublesome fabric from his legs.
After flinging his shirt behind him, you were both left in your underwear and no inch of exposed skin was left unexplored. Your dominant personalities were at war as you made your way down the hallway, and the aggression became tangible, especially after you practically slammed his back into the wall by your bedroom door. Jungkook squealed happily when you started climbing onto his chest and he reached down and pulled your legs up and around his waist.
Even though his hands were already busy holding you up, he still managed to slip a few fingers in between your legs from behind. The soaked fabric of your underwear pulled a sultry groan from his kiss bitten lips.
“Holy shit, baby,” he said in a breathy tone. “You’re so fucking wet already.”
You moaned softly into his ear as he trailed your arousal back and forth across your slit. He walked across the threshold of your bedroom door and sat down on the bed. You quickly pushed him on his back, but he sat back up and tried to still your frantic hands.
“Baby, baby,” he implored. “You can slow down a bit. I’m not going anywhere.”
“But,” you pouted. “You have no idea how many times I fantasized about this. I’m just excited that it’s actually happening.”
He reached up with one hand and unsnapped your bra with unbelievable precision. He smirked at your awed expression, tossed your bra to the floor, and then leaned up to kiss you sweetly.
“I feel the same way,” he confessed. “I just want to take my time with this. There’s no rush.”
Jungkook continued kissing along your jawline and proceeded to your neck. He pulled on your nipples slightly and then slipped his fingers around your waist to toy with the band of your underwear. You took a deep breath and smiled. Maybe you were a little eager, but it wasn’t often that a legit snack was delivered unto you by the Universe. The restraint was a real struggle.
Jungkook nipped at a sweet spot just below your ear and you hissed and clutched desperately at his back in response.
“Kookie,” you whined. “Don’t tease me.”
“Oh yeah?” he chuckled darkly. “I’d say you deserve a little payback for all the times you teased me, don’t you think?”
“What?” you scoffed. “When?”
Jungkook turned and tossed you onto the bed. He reached up and pulled your hands above your head and held them in place with one hand.
“Every time I saw you,” he reiterated while kissing down your chest. “Your flirty smiles, your sexy winks, your playful jokes, you sat in my lap on more than one occasion when we cuddled on the couch.”
“You never reacted to any of that,” you breathed out in a gasp. “I just assumed you wanted to be friends.”
“I didn’t want to assume anything either,” he admitted. “But I definitely wanted to be more than just friends.”
He leaned in and pulled you into another intoxicating kiss, and you leaned forward to slip your tongue into his mouth, needing to satiate your overwhelming lust. He pushed his own tongue against yours and then pulled away from your lips completely.
He smirked at your needy whine and trailed his free hand across your cheeks then down onto your breast. He leaned in to capture one nipple with his lips and stimulate the other with his fingers. You writhed in desperation, but he only hummed in response.
“Something wrong, babygirl?” He mused. “You seem a little agitated.”
“Gee,” you huffed. “I wonder why.”
Pure amusement played across Jungkook’s beautiful face as he released one nipple from his mouth with a loud popping sound. He licked the valley between your breasts and shifted his body between your legs. You could feel his thick clothed erection brushing across the top of your thighs. He leaned up to kiss your lips and lingered for a moment before releasing your hands.
“Keep your hands where they are, babygirl,” he instructed. “Don’t move them until I tell you to, ok?”
“What happens if I move them?” you challenged. “Will I get in trouble, Kookie?”
“Oh yeah,” he glared. “Big trouble.”
To send his comment further into your mind, Jungkook rubbed his girthy length gently across your clit and grinned wickedly as you moaned wantonly in response. He placed another kiss on your lips and began crawling down your torso. You released a flustered exhale and wiggled your hips beneath him in anticipation.
His hands continued to explore as he kissed a trail down your body. Jungkook paused and adjusted his position when he reached your dripping center. He nuzzled his nose into the thin fabric of your panties and gave the wet spot he found a lick.
Your hips tried to snap forward with the sensation, but Jungkook held you firmly in place. He slid your underwear down your legs and flung them on the floor with the other discarded articles of clothing. He then situated himself firmly between your legs and slid his strong arms under your thighs.
Intent on prolonging his sensual torture, Jungkook ran his tongue delicately along your juicy folds and the blew a cool stream of air onto your exposed nub. The sensation triggered a shiver to erupt across your skin, and you latched onto the pillow above you to anchor your hands in place. Before you could unleash another whine of displeasure, Jungkook dipped the tip of his tongue into your dripping center and swirled it to collect your juices. He released a satisfied hum when he swallowed and got his first real taste of you
“Oh, fuck me,” Jungkook groaned into your upper thigh. “Your pussy is delicious, baby. I may be down here for a while. You don’t mind, do you?”
“Ah,” you squeaked as he licked another stripe through your folds. “Go right ahead, Kookie. I won’t stop you.”
Jungkook nearly growled as he dove into your sopping wet slit, slurping up every drop of slick he could find. You moaned and twitched uncontrollably and he sent you into a tempest of pure pleasure. Every flick of his tongue, every bit of suction against your clit, and every grasp of Jungkook’s hands on your skin jolted your nerve endings into a full blown orgasm careening from your center and spreading all the way across your extremities. He was certainly taking his sweet time and enjoying every minute of it.
Once the climax shifted into overstimulation, you reached down and pulled on Jungkook’s hair and begged him to stop. The little bunny grin he flashed you was completely at odds with the sinful actions of his fingers in between your legs. He planted one last lingering kiss on your throbbing bundle of nerves and crawled off the bed.
You were about to protest his absence from the bed, but then he left you slack jawed when he pulled his boxer briefs off and kicked them aside. The sight of his quivering length made your mouth water, even more so when he gave it a few purposeful strokes. The swollen pink tip was already weeping with precum and you licked your lips, wondering about the taste.
“Ah, you can’t do that to me,” Jungkook blushed. “You’re looking at me like you want to eat me up.”
“Maybe I do,” you teased. “Can you blame me when you’re looking so damn tasty?”
Jungkook chuckled wickedly as he mounted the bed again and hovered over your tantalizing naked figure. He licked his lips, still tasting your essence on his tongue, and raked his eyes up and down your body.
“Are you ready for me, babygirl?” he mused. “Do you think you can take all of me?”
Glancing down at his sizable girth, you popped an eyebrow and tilted your head pensively. You reached over to your side table and opened a drawer to pull out a condom, handing it to Jungkook with a smile.
That’s a damn good question. Can I?
“I guess it’s time to find out,” you teased. “How long are you going to keep me waiting, Kookie?”
That was all the encouragement Jungkook needed to act upon his voracious hunger. He quickly rolled the condom onto his dick and leaned forward to give you a passionate kiss. He released your swollen lips and you gasped as you felt him rubbing his tip along your damp slit.
“I’ve been waiting for this for so long,” Jungkook murmured. “Just know that you’re in for a long night, baby. I’m not going to stop until we’ve made up for all that time we lost.”
With that being said, Jungkook plunged his throbbing cock into you and released a ravenous groan above you. You both remained still for a few moments and you squirmed in his hold hoping to increase the friction you craved. After the tension in Jungkook’s shoulders subsided, his hips burrowed deeper and deeper into your soaking heat. He relished the deluge of your juices dampening his thighs, the melodic moans of his name you uttered over and over again, and most of all, the profound elation of finally reaching the state of euphoria he’d been dreaming about since you were both in college.
The night raged on with your ardent love-making, and after hours of unbridled bliss, you were sprawled across Jungkook’s chest, buzzing with contentment. Both of your glistening chests heaved from exertion, but the fucked out looks on your faces didn’t reveal any hints of exhaustion.
“That was unbelievable, Kookie,” you panted. “Why didn’t we do that sooner?”
“Because we were both idiots?” Jungkook suggested. “Whatever it was, I’m glad we finally found the time to do it.”
He kissed the top of your head and smacked your ass playfully. You hissed at the contact and pursed your lips at him in a pout. He giggled at your cuteness and wrapped his arms around you.
“What was that for?” you whined. “You’re so mean, Kookie.”
“Hey,” he protested hotly. “I told you to keep your hands in place earlier, but you just had to pull on my hair. I owed you at least one good spank.”
“I think you spanked me enough tonight,” you replied cheekily. “Among other things.”
You both smiled at each other as you replayed the events of the evening in your minds. You leaned over to pull him into another lingering kiss. He chuckled and stopped you from deepening the kiss.
“We should probably clean up,” he argued. “We are a hot steaming mess right now.”
“Speak for yourself,” you shot back. “I’m not a mess.”
He lifted his eyebrows and then reached between your legs to drag his fingers across the stickiness clinging to your legs. You mewled in protest and shot him a dirty look for calling you out.
“Ok, fine,” you agreed. “I’m a mess, but so are you. How about a shower before I change the sheets?”
He nodded in agreement and helped you off the bed and into the bathroom. Your legs were still a little wobbly after so much physical activity.
It’s been a while since I put my thighs to good use.
The intimacy carried on in the shower, but neither of you had enough energy to initiate another round of passion. The most you were able to do was kiss each other lazily after helping each other clean up. After the shower, Jungkook was an absolute gentleman and helped you change your sheets.
“You don’t have to leave, you know,” you suggested. “You could just stay. It’s after 5am anyway.”
“I know,” he replied coolly while buttoning his shirt. “But I’m not really in the habit of staying the night.”
“Oh, really?” you teased while popping an eyebrow. “Then can I get you a drink before you leave?”
Jungkook smiled at your hospitality and nodded in response. You were quick to get him a glass of cold water and set it on the counter. A now fully dressed Jungkook walked over and pulled you into another kiss before grabbing the glass and taking a drink. You nuzzled against his chest and sighed. Jungkook set the glass aside, wrapped his arms around you, and kissed the top of your head sweetly.
“Hey,” he exclaimed suddenly. “Where did you find that?”
He reached over and picked up the banana keychain still sitting on your counter. You totally forgot about the small collection of random objects you found in the closet, but now that Jungkook was examining the keychain, your thoughts revisited the mysterious items once again.
“It was in a box I found in my closet,” you confirmed. “Why? Do you recognize that keychain?”
“Of course I do,” Jungkook murmured. “It’s mine, and it isn’t just a keychain, it’s a USB drive.”
He pulled the banana apart at the center and it revealed a USB connector bearing the lettering 512GB. Your jaw dropped at the sudden revelation.
“What the-” you queried. “Why would I have it?”
“Maybe I left it at your place or something?” Jungkook said. ���But the point is, I looked everywhere for this thing. I have so many layouts and artwork on here, and this will be incredibly useful at my new job. You are literally saving me weeks of work with this thing.”
“You’re asking me to just give you this flash drive that I found in my apartment mixed in with my stuff?” you reasoned. “How do I know this is actually yours?”
“Because I recognized it,” Jungkook argued. “And I also knew what it was. You obviously didn’t.”
“Hmmmm,” you mused. “I don’t know. What’ll you give me in return?”
Jungkook patted himself down and reached into his pants pocket to pull out a green shamrock on a beaded necklace with the word “Lucky” emblazoned across the front. The look on his face gave off the impression that he was confused, but then it transformed into amusement. He grinned and flipped a switch on the button, causing it to erupt into a barrage of green LED lights.
“I will give you this limited edition, LED powered four leaf clover necklace,” Jungkook proposed. “It’s the perfect good luck charm, and so much better than a horseshoe or a rabbit’s foot. What do you say?”
You eyed the glowing button and burst into a giggle fit. Jungkook was presenting it to you as though it were some kind of grand prize on a game show.
“Where did you even get that?” you asked. “Do you just hide random holiday necklaces in your pants?”
“No,” Jungkook chuckled. “They gave it to me at the bar. I almost left it on the table, but I couldn’t put it down. When I saw you by the bartender, I guess I just put it in my pocket. It’s weird, I usually don’t keep stuff like this. But it’s yours, if you want it.”
“Well,” you grinned. “With a sales pitch like that, how can I resist?”
He joyfully handed you the flashy plastic bauble and pressed another delightful kiss on your lips. You set the shamrock necklace aside on the counter and wrapped your arms around Jungkook’s neck to continue pressing sweet kisses on his soft pink lips. Before things got too heated again, Jungkook pulled away and kissed your forehead. He exhaled a deep breath as you buried your face into his firm chest.
The night had been phenomenal and this thing between you and Jungkook was heating up so well. Maybe there was a possibility for more than just a one night stand? It was a risky proposal to bring up, but your history with Jungkook gave you a sliver of hope.
“So when do I get to see you again, Kookie?” you breathed out while looking up at him. “Now that you’re in town again, maybe we can see each other more often?”
“Uh, well,” Jungkook sighed nervously. “I’m not sure. I just started the job and I’m going to be pretty busy, so I’ll have to let you know.”
“Oh,” you replied while gently releasing your hold on him. “That’s fine, whatever.”
“Hey,” he began while pulling you back into his embrace. “It’s not what you’re thinking. I had an amazing time with you tonight, but I’m not sure I can give anything more than something casual. I wish I could give you more than that, but I’m not really in a good place for anything serious right now.”
You pouted slightly and nodded your head in understanding. Having been in that exact same head space before, you could understand his apprehension. There were easily five years between you and Jungkook, so it was natural that you would be at different places in your life. It would be unfair to expect more of him if he wasn’t ready for it yet.
“I understand,” you murmured knowingly. “I don’t want you to feel obligated or anything like that.”
“I’m sorry I can’t offer you more than that,” he admitted. “Believe me. If ever I’m ready for something long-term, I’m going to be looking for you.”
“If I’m still available,” you mocked him playfully. “You never know. Some other gorgeous man might snap me up before then.”
“Well,” he growled while sinking his hand into your hair. “If that’s the case, then he better be ten times better than me and willing to give you the world on a silver platter. You shouldn’t settle for anything less, babygirl. You deserve to be treated like the goddess you are.”
You rolled your eyes at him and pursed your lips. He shot you an adorable bunny smile and eagerly kissed your lips once again. He took a moment to brush his thumbs across the apples of your cheeks and then shook his head with a goofy smile.
“Ah, I better go,” he announced in a huff. “If I spend any more time here, I’ll never leave.”
“That isn’t necessarily a bad thing,” you shot back teasingly. “I’d definitely make it worth your while.”
“I know you would,” he snickered. “But I really do have a lot of work to do. I’m going to need the rest of the day to recover from tonight before I have to be at work on Monday. Someone gave me a hell of a workout.”
You winked at him and leaned up to kiss him once more before he pulled away toward the front door. You shared one last hug and kiss at the open door after exchanging phone numbers.
“Thank you again for giving this USB back to me.” he expressed with gratitude. “You have no idea how much time you’re going to save me. I’ll try to call you later this week. Maybe we can meet up and do something, if you’re not busy?”
“We’ll see,” you smirked. “I’ll let you know.”
Jungkook flicked your chin and shot you an impish grin. You watched him disappear behind the elevator doors before closing the door to your apartment. Once you were back in your kitchen, you sipped at the water you’d poured for Jungkook and looked at the scattered items on the counter. The absence of the banana keychain was noted, but the glowing shamrock was a welcome replacement. You decided to send Gina a little update before you went to bed.
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You put your phone on the counter and let out a loud yawn, the evening and all of its activities finally catching up with you. The mess on the counter annoyed you, so you placed everything back in the box on top of the paper map and switched off the lights.
“I’ll take another look at this tomorrow,” you yawned. “Time for sleep.”
As you walked back to your room, you turned off all the lights and got settled into your comfy bed with fresh sheets. There was still a faint scent of Jungkook floating in the air and it calmed your senses. You started drifting off to Dreamland with visions of Jungkook prancing across your brain.
At least I can stop wondering about Jungkook and what might have been. I’d been obsessing over that for so long. Now, I can move on if I need to.
Reassuring visions danced across your brain and all of them resembled Jungkook. He kept tossing four leaf clovers at your feet, and you giggled in your sleep as he continued showering you in lucky charms.
Jungkook made a good point. Four leaf clovers were much better than other good luck charms. Your bunny boy bestowed a bounty of luck upon you, all while blessing you with a rabbit’s foot of his own.
Well maybe a few inches less than a foot, but size isn’t everything.
With a smile on your face and your heart full of possibilities, you coasted on fumes to the final mile into a deep sleep, knowing that tomorrow would be brighter without the added weight of your past insecurities pulling at your nerves.
It’s funny. I almost feel like I’ve regained something I didn’t know was missing. Maybe Oberyn is on to something after all. The Universe definitely makes more sense than it did yesterday.
That couldn’t just be a coincidence.
Could it?
Your mind continued its existential ramblings throughout the wonders of Dreamland, and in your kitchen, something inexplicable was happening. Only Oberyn was awake to witness the subtle purple glow and sparkle emanating from the counter top. It was over in a flash, but Oberyn still sniffed at the air in the kitchen trying to locate the origin of the unexplained phenomenon.
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NEXT:
Chapter Two: Soulmates are a Forever Kind of Thing
MAP OF THE SOUL MASTERLIST
@caught-in-a-seesaw-stigma​‘s MASTERLIST
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rated: t
fandom: Tales of Symphonia
prompt: “Go Through Me” + Zelos/Colette/Lloyd
requested by: @greecllings
more modern-day!AU shenanigans because I got this idea in my head after a particularly great line in another, diff-fandom fanfic i was reading. now this is here.
i’m sorry. 
thanks Josie for the request, though i’m 95% certain this scenario wasn’t what you had in mind when you first requested “get through me” with these three, so...sorry (again)
o - o - o
Schlemiel [Read on AO3]
o - o - o
Zelos frowns. “You’re sure he said to wait here?”
At Colette’s shrug, his frown deepens. Her thumbs fly across the screen of her cell. Zelos doesn’t know how she can see anything on that thing under the glaring light of the courtyard lamppost. “Yeah. Said he was on his way? He should be here in just a—”
“—hey, Colette!” 
The voice that rings out is too loud for not being that far away.
Zelos turns and takes a good look at his theater classmate’s childhood friend. Colette talks about him a lot: the boisterous bundle of energy named Lloyd Irving who is apparently not her boyfriend. (Zelos is of the opinion that there’s a yet in those words somewhere.) Her stories she spins as they sit knee-to-knee doing warm-ups on stage are always wild, extremely silly, and very funny. To see the subject of those 4-wheeler wheelies and the self-proclaimed corn-husk king, who’s apparently a plain guy with spiky brown hair and a bright red university sweater, was almost a disappointment. Zelos had expected someone more…something.
“You must be Zelos,” Lloyd gives a breathless greeting and thrusts a hand out towards his chest. “Nice to meetcha.”
Zelos takes the proffered hand because he, unlike some of the people in front of him, was not raised in a barn. He makes a good show of flicking a long strand of red hair over his shoulder, sliding on a slow grin. “I see our sweet little Colette here has told you about me.”
Is that a smattering of pink dusting the guy’s cheeks? Geez, already? How are these two not dating yet if the mere mention of the other’s name makes them go all gooey-eyed and soft? “Yeah. I guess she has mentioned a thing or two about the funny redhead from her theater class before.” 
Sharply, Zelos chokes. “Funny—?!”
Lloyd chuckles and is quick to release his hand and wrap it around one of his two ratty backpack straps. He swallows and looks over his shoulder. “Right. Well, uh, shall we head back?”
And then and all of a sudden, Colette’s head snaps up from her phone. 
She stares at Lloyd with almost comically ginormous eyes. Zelos doesn’t get quite why until Colette waves for his attention and turns her phone screen to face him. Beaming in the night, surrounded by a green text message box from one heart-emoji-surrounded Lloyd (seriously?) are the white words: jhey, I think i mite be being follow.ed. just os you kno. sry. 
Ah.
“Yes!” Colette says as soon as she pockets her phone. “C’mon! Yeah! Let’s, uh, let’s go to our dorms!”
The funny thing about being in a theater class with country bumpkin Colette Brunel is that the golden-headed tenderheart has the hardest time telling a convincing lie, so she’s actually very, very bad on stage—which is exactly why Zelos likes her. She is earnest and sincere and would never stab him in the back one day probably because she didn’t know which way to hold the damn knife. 
Completely unlike him in every way.
Which is why when Colette says “our dorms,” Zelos immediately realizes two things: one, that Lloyd must not have the same scholarship he and Colette do because he isn’t bunking in Chosen Hall, and two, when Lloyd is asking if he can walk with them, it’s because he doesn’t feel safe heading back to his own dorms.
And all in the span of two seconds, Zelos knows what to do.
His grin widens.
“W-whoa, hey, what are you—”
“—shhh, play along,” Zelos purrs, arm snug around Lloyd’s waist as he flicks a glance over the guy’s shoulder. It was on his right Lloyd had looked earlier; there’s a figure leaning against a tree on their phone. Super casual, not anything unusual after nine on a college campus after night classes have just let out. 
But Zelos remembers very well his own personal near-experiences.
With his arm around Lloyd, he turns him and guides him down the sidewalk towards his and Colette’s dorm. He sneaks another glance behind them in the form of a chaste kiss to Lloyd’s very, very red cheek. 
After a beat, the stranger begins to follow. 
Huh.
Colette is making strange, choked-off noises at his side and when he glances at her, he can see her face is as red as Lloyd’s sweater. Hell, she’s practically as red as Lloyd’s face. Zelos really is surrounded by the two most rural, suppressed idiots this side of the Tethe’alla-Sylverant continent divide, huh.
They aren’t even halfway to the dorms yet and the stranger tailing them still hasn’t taken a hint, so Zelos decides to do something fun.
“You trust me?” he whispers, leaning in close to Lloyd’s side. The guy’s been quiet as a mouse the entire walk, which is funny as hell because he’s known him for all of three minutes (if you don’t count Colette’s oddball stories) and he has a very good hunch his unusual silence is because he’s so far out of his element, he’s probably somewhere on Mars.
“N-no…?” 
“Fair enough.”
Zelos spins him and pins him to the outer wall of the old university library. Colette squeaks. There’s an odd bump and arc to Lloyd’s figure with his backpack in the way. With one hand pressed to the brick at the level of Lloyd’s bewildered face and the other digging into the pocket of his white sweatpants, Zelos leans in.
“If you really want to ward ‘em off, you know what we should do.”
“Ex-fuckin’-scuse me?”
“Yes or no. Be quick.”
And then, Zelos has about two seconds to recognize the flash of determination set in Lloyd’s eyes for what it is before Lloyd clumsily grabs his face with both hands and pulls him in. At that moment, Zelos discovers another thing:
Lloyd’s never kissed before.
The guy’s real bad at it. Has no finesse whatsoever. Really messy with his lips and bumps his nose against Zelos’ as he tries to tilt his head at a better angle. Stinky breath; what, did he just stuff his mouth full of sour cream and onion chips during his late class or something? Disgusting. Salty. Actually, kinda addicting?
Weird.
Zelos tilts into it when Lloyd gives a tiny, hitched gasp. His nerves light up. Belatedly, he realizes that was his own fault—his fingers have curled into the skin of Lloyd’s hip, pushing up his sweatshirt until it bunches over the back of his hand. 
When finally they break apart, breath hot against one another’s faces, Zelos turns his face to the side.
Whoever it was that was following Lloyd is gone.
Good. Didn’t want them to even reach our dorms, anyway.
“Zelos! Lloyd! Th-that was—” 
Oh.
Zelos turns to his other side. He almost forgot Colette was there, but when he sees her, there are stars in her eyes. Like, near-legitimate stars. He’s never known blue could turn so cosmic at night, like spinning nebulas are spanning the length of her mind. 
“What?” Zelos asks innocently, straightening up and pushing both hands in his sweatpants pockets, now. “You’ve seen me do that in class all the time, Colette.”
“Y-yeah, but—” Colette stutters and her face steams up again. She squeaks out, hands fisted in front of her collar, “—not with my best friend!”
Oh.
Yeah.
There was that.
“That was…” She tries again, but seems to be at a loss for words. When Colette looks to Lloyd, Lloyd looks back at her, dazed and still so, so red.
Actually, to hell with it. Red looks great on him.
“Well, it worked, so you’re welcome.” Zelos shrugs. “Successfully delivered the age-old, ‘you’ll have to go through me,’ and ‘this one’s taken,’ message across to that creep, for what it’s worth. They shouldn’t bother you again, but if they do…well, you know who to reach out to.”
“Thanks,” Lloyd murmurs. 
Zelos takes a step back and bows extravagantly. 
“We should, uh…” Lloyd looks around at this side of campus—probably unfamiliar to him—and scratches the back of his head. “We should keep going, right? Your guys’ dorm is further on. Colette, are you sure you’re fine if I…?”
“What? Yeah—yes. That’s fine! I still have your toothbrush from last time.”
Oh, to be young and in love and so dumb as to not even realize it.
“Do you, um—” Colette breaks off and if possible, her face is even redder. “Zelos, would you want to come with us?”
“Uh, I have to.” Zelos gives Colette a funny, patient look. “We’re in the same dorm hall, honey.”
“Oh—no—yes—of course—but I mean—”
And then it dawns on Zelos in that funny, crawling kind of way. Slowly, like the first rays of the sun as it peeks over the horizon. And then it warms him, starting from some point in the center of the top of his head and spreading down across his skin and low to his feet and he hedges out a laugh that’s as bewildered as it is—admittedly—just a bit flustered.
“You want me to crash your little slumber party?” he asks with a lifted brow. She can’t be serious.
Colette says, “You wouldn’t be crashing it!” at the same time as Lloyd finally catches on and bursts, “Hey, yeah! That’s a great idea! Colette’s got a corner room to herself and the bottom bunk’s a futon that can fold out and it’s really comfy. C’mon, Zelos. You’ll love it!”
Zelos has every idea that these two oblivious fools are going to be the death of him. 
But then he finds himself somehow—incredibly—nodding—and he supposes he must be the biggest fool of all. Is he actually agreeing to this?
“Yay!” Colette cheers and claps her hands and Zelos supposes he is.
How did he get here?
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randomfandomimagine · 5 years
Text
You Owe Me (Reese x Reader)
Character: Reese Wilkerson (ft. Malcolm, Stevie, Dewey, Hal, Lois & Jamie)
Fandom: Malcolm in the Middle
Categories: Reader Insert, Female!Reader
Title: You Owe Me
  Summary: Y/N seems to see something in Reese that everyone else ignores, so she tries to be nice to him. Things complicate, however, when she realizes that people might not be as wrong as she thought about Reese.
I just couldn’t understand. The more I stared, the more confused I became. I had seen it, Reese was aggressive and sometimes even cruel. He was a bully sometimes. Why did I find him so interesting? Why was it that, even as I watched him chuckle to himself while doodling on that text book, I still wanted to hang out with him?
A voice I recognized got me out of my thoughts as I finally spotted Malcolm and Stevie eating lunch at a close by table. I leaned off the wall and headed their direction.
We weren’t really that close, but they were the ones I got along with best. Especially now that Dabney, Lloyd, Kevin or Cynthia weren’t there. I felt inhibited with so many intelligent people.
“Hey, guys” I called them, earning curious glances from them. “Mind if I sit with you?”
“Go… ahead” Stevie replied with a small smile that I reciprocated.
“Hey, Y/N” As all response, Malcolm moved his bag so I could sit down with them. “Don’t you sit with your friends?”
“Let’s just say that they’re not really my friends…” I glared in their direction as they boisterously laughed in my absence. “Especially behind one’s back”
“Sorry to… hear that…” Stevie said, making me look at them again instead of my ex-friends.
“Yeah, what happened?” Malcolm asked me as well.
“Never mind that, I’m with you now” I showed them a cheerful smile and shrugged. “Forgive me if my conversation isn’t too interesting, though, I’m not as smart as you two”
Both Malcolm and Stevie mumbled humble replies, slightly flustered by my compliment.
“Hey” I hadn’t noticed Malcolm’s brother had walked up to us.
“Hi, Reese!” I waved at him, earning only a brief glance and a reluctant wave back.
“Give me your book” He demanded from Malcolm, who rolled his eyes.
“What’s wrong with yours?”
“I got artistic, but didn’t realize I was using permanent marker”
When Reese opened his book to a random page and showed us his masterpiece, I giggled at the sight. It was full of goofy doodles like rockets, skateboards, skulls, pirates and even some comical stick figures fighting like ninjas. He heard me laughing and dedicated me a cute toothy grin filled with amusement and pride in his work.
“Don’t… encourage him” Muttered Stevie.
“I’m not giving you my book!” Malcolm complained. “Just because-“
He was interrupted by his brother as he stole the bag from Malcolm, grabbed his book and then punched him in the arm.
“Thanks!” Reese then proceeded to leave like nothing had happened, with his brother’s unpainted book.
What went on in his mind? What was behind all that goofiness and violence and why couldn’t I pinpoint it? Even worse, why did he fascinate me like that?
I watched him as he walked away grinning, satisfied with the outcome of the scene. I still couldn’t understand why I found him so interesting. Maybe because he was oddly charming, or just because he was a mystery to me.
*
The next day went on as usual. My stupid friends pretended like I didn’t even exist, and I didn’t know if that was worse than knowing they insulted me behind my back. Whatever, I knew I could hang out with Stevie and Malcolm and they wouldn’t mind. Maybe I couldn’t talk about science or math with them, but we did chat about TV, videogames and comics.
I walked into Reese on my way out, right after the bell rang announcing the end of the classes for the day. We hadn’t really interacted much other than because of our mutual connection with Malcolm, but I smiled at him like I always did.
“Bye, Reese!” I waved at him, and he frowned as usual. This time, however, it wasn’t the only thing he did.
“What are you up to?” He exclaimed, holding me by the shoulders and shaking me.
“What?” I was confused by his sudden outburst and tried to get away from his grip, but he was really strong.
“Why are you always so nice to me?”
“And why not?”
“Tell me!”
“You’re hurting me…”
Reese paused and let go of me, watching me intently. His greenish eyes focused on me with suspicion. I took a step back, staring at him as well and waiting for his next move.
“Bah…” In the end, Reese rolled his eyes and walked away, leaving me alone.
A part of me shouted that maybe people were right about him. Maybe he was a little crazy and was nothing but a bully. A small side of me, however, looked into his behavior without really meaning to. Maybe he was so used to people being mean to him that he was suspicious when someone was nice for a change.
“Don’t let him intimidate you” Malcolm’s voice startled me as he had arrived behind me without me noticing. “You’re smarter than him”
“I’m not that smart”
“You’re still smarter than him”
I stared at Malcolm, surprised that his own brother talked like that of him. I shook my head, knowing that their family dynamic wasn’t really my business. I sighed and continued on my way outside the building, with Malcolm walking next to me.
“Did I say something wrong?” I asked, still confused about his reaction. “I just said ‘bye’ to him!”
“He’s paranoid” Malcolm tiredly explained. “He thinks you’re going to pull a prank on him or something”
“Just because I’m nice”
“Yup… Why are you that nice, by the way?”
“I don’t know, I just want to be!” I shrugged, self-consciously pushing the books I carried against my chest. “I think he can be sweet too… Deep down…”
To my surprise, Malcolm broke out in loud guffaws of laughter. After a few seconds, he looked at me and slowly calmed down.
“Wait, you’re serious?”
“Okay, maybe deep deep down… But still…”
“Look, Y/N, you’re really nice” He put a hand on my shoulder. “But I think you’re too nice to think that highly of Reese”
“He’s your brother!” I complained, shocked that he spoke like that.
“Yeah, and I will always defend him” Almost like he was surprised by his own words, he looked around to make sure no one heard. “But… don’t tell him I said that”
“What…?” I stuttered as he left. “But I thought… You said…”
That family sure was weird. But maybe that was why I was so drawn to them.
*
I couldn’t get Reese off my mind for some damn reason. Random moments of watching him goof around school kept popping up in my head. Like that time he squirted water in his mouth using a tiny water gun. Or the day I surprised him singing the catchy song to a commercial, he interrupted himself to say hello back to me, and continued. And how every time he did one of those things he chuckled or giggled to himself. I found him to be… endearing, adorable even.
I still didn’t let him take over my life, he just piqued my curiosity, that was all. But I continued with my day to day as usual, not being all that bothered when I bumped into him. Instead I kept hanging out with Malcolm and Stevie, went to class and forgot about him. Until one day he made me focus on him by the force.
I was walking around on my free period, taking in the tranquility of the school playground without all the people talking, shouting and laughing. But I guess he either had a free period as well or just skipped class, because Reese was there too.
“Hey, Y/N!” I heard his voice calling me, so I turned around to face him.
“Ah!” I squeaked when I was instead welcomed with something hitting me hard.
Something exploded over me, falling onto my head. When it did, it covered me with a gooey substance that spread through my clothes and stuck to my hair. I immediately heard him cracking up, coming to meet with me.
I was confused, but overall I was angry.
“You should have seen your face!” He pointed at me, holding his stomach as he continued laughing.
“Reese, you dumbass!” I pushed him with so much force that he lost balance and fell on the floor. “What was that for?!”
“Ha!” He said, even as I towered over him sitting on the ground. “That will teach you!”
“Teach me what? To hate you like everyone else?” I hoped my intense glare would pass on to him how absolutely furious I was since I couldn’t put it into words being so rattled.
Reese frowned, remaining silent for a moment, but he recovered quickly and stood up.
“No, to trick me trying to be nice!” He pointed a finger at me again, this time accusatorily.
“Trick you? Trick you?!” I looked up to the sky in exasperation, grunting in annoyance. “Ugh, Reese! You’re a brute and a jerk!”
“I… I…” He was suddenly rattled too.
“Maybe people are right about you” I told him before I stomped away.
I was glad that people were in class and the hallways were empty, otherwise they would all have laughed at me and maybe even give me a weird nickname that would haunt me for years. I made it to the bathroom and watched my reflection in the mirror to analyze the damage.
I spent at least fifteen minutes in the bathroom, trying to get that goo off me. My clothes were completely ruined and I would have to throw them away, it was impossible to clean them no matter how many times I put them in the washing machine. But I had managed to mostly get it off my hair. When I was rinsing it for the third time, a knock came to the door.
“Occupied” I bitterly said to whoever was trying to get in.
“Y/N, it’s me, Reese” I rolled my eyes even if he couldn’t see me through the closed door. “You there?”
I didn’t reply, I was still mad at him. I didn’t know what I had done wrong, but mostly I was upset that I saw something in him that wasn’t there. He wasn’t sweet deep down, he was just cruel. What did I do to him to deserve such prank?
“Can we talk?” He insisted, knocking again. “Y/N?”
I continued giving him the silent treatment, even if a part of me wanted to shout at him and tell him to go away. The only sign that I gave him that I was still there was the sound of the water running.
“At least let me talk to you, you don’t have to say anything” His voice sounded genuinely regretful, almost… vulnerable. It was the softest I had heard him speak.
Malcolm was right, I was too nice. Heaving a resigned sigh, I turned to the door.
“Come in…” I budged, willing to at least let him, maybe to punch him in the arm.
“I can’t, it’s the girls bathroom” In any other moment, I would have found that comment cute. But not then, I just felt aggressiveness towards him at that moment.
“What a shame” I sarcastically replied, focusing on my reflection in the mirror again.
“Please, Y/N, I… I’m sorry!” He stuttered for a moment until he recovered. “You’ve been so nice, I want to apologize!”
I hesitated for a moment, but in the end I walked to the door and opened it. Reese jumped up when we were suddenly face to face, but before he could say anything I returned to my spot in the sink. He stood in the doorway, staring at me as I wrung water off my hair.
“I didn’t mean to do it” He began saying effusively, still not trespassing the threshold.
“Then why did you, huh?” I eyed him for a moment before returning to the task of cleaning my hair. “You seemed to be having fun too…”
“I thought you would find it funny, not hate me!”
“Funny?!”
“Yeah! A friendly prank!”
“How is this funny or friendly, Reese?! How-?” I cut myself before I lost my temper and took a deep breath instead.
“I feel terrible…” I wanted to believe him, but now I was too wary of him. Especially since his hands were behind his back and it felt like he was up to something.
“Why did you do it?” I tiredly asked him, trying to keep myself calm.
“I… I just wanted to get your attention!”
“You already had my attention!”
“Really?”
“Yeah… But maybe now you’ve lost it…”
A very awkward silent settled, and Reese fidgeted in the spot. Then he finally put his hands in front of him, so I feebly glanced at them.
“I made another one” He held a big water balloon, presumably filled with the same disgusting substance from before.
“I swear, Reese, if you throw it at me, I will-“
“No, it’s for me!”
“What?”
“Then we’ll be even”
He showed me that wide cute grin again and I swore under my breath, hating to be so vulnerable to its charming nature. I watched the balloon in his hands, considering the payback opportunity.
“It will get all over your clothes” I warned him, walking closer.
“I know” He calmly shrugged as I closed the distance between us.
“Wouldn’t you get in trouble with your parents if you went back home looking like this?”
“I don’t care”
Once we were at arm length distance from each other, I paused dramatically.
“What about your hair?” I carefully studied his reaction, even if it was a late one.
“I…” He gulped, and there was clear agitation both in his features and his voice. “I-I don’t mind”
I stared at him, but he did not falter. I looked at his hair, realizing how perfectly styled it was. He probably spent a long time spiking it every day. Moving slowly, I took the balloon from his hands, but even then he did not back down.
“Yes you do” I gave him the balloon back. “You love your hair”
“Just do it, Y/N” He returned it to me, setting his hands over mine with determination to convince me. “It’s only fair”
I cocked an eyebrow and lifted the balloon over my head. Reese shut his eyes tight, bracing for the impact. He really was willing to let me do it to make it up to me!
Feeling too guilty to go through with it, I turned around and threw it at the sink instead. Reese gasped at the sound of the balloon exploding, but opened his eyes to see how the gross contents of it were spread all over the inside of the sink.
He gawked at me, blinking repeatedly as he assimilated what I had just done. Or rather, what I hadn’t done.
“Why didn’t you…?” He began, showing me a cute confused frown that reminded me of a puppy. Damn him and whatever I saw in him.
“Look, that I’m mad at you doesn’t mean I actually hate you” I sighed, smiling at him. “And I shouldn’t have said that either, I was just angry”
“Say what?”
“That you’re a dumbass… It’s not true, you’re not dumb”
He smiled, but instead of that toothy wide grin of his, it was a much smaller but much sweeter one. It looked more genuine and serious than the other goofy grin.
“Thanks” Reese finally said, and I smiled wider too.
For a moment, we both stayed silent, staring at each other. Then he suddenly took his plaid shirt off, leaving him in a yellow T-shirt, and handed me the plaid one.
“What are you doing?” I said before I considered taking it.
“Get changed” Reese energetically shook it until I finally took it from him. “Then at least you don’t have to wear that gross wet shirt”
I chuckled when he turned around to give me a little privacy. It was just that, gestures like those that told me that Reese was something more than what people thought he was.
“Fine” I grabbed the hem of my shirt, but stopped before pulling at it. “Don’t peek”
“I won’t” To reinforce his statement, Reese covered his eyes even if he was still facing his back to me. “I promise”
“Good” I quickly took my shirt off and put it over the sink as I put my arms over the sleeves of his plaid shirt. “If you do, I’ll punch you in the face”
“Good one” Reese laughed, thinking I was joking. I didn’t blame him for not taking my warning seriously, though, I wasn’t exactly threatening.
As I buttoned up the shirt, I noticed Reese slightly moved his head, tilting it to look over his shoulder. He slowly uncovered his eyes, so I glared at him.
“Don’t you dare” I said to keep him from giving in to the temptation.
“Sorry” He looked straight ahead again, covering his eyes and now also facing the ground.
I watched him carefully as I finished getting changed, and was glad to see he came through. He didn’t move other than to shift his weight from one foot to the other.
Moving to stay in front of the mirror once more, I saw that his shirt kind of suited me. It was a little too big and too long, but I looked okay.
“I know what to do!” Reese suddenly said, breaking the silence. “I’ll cook you dinner!”
“What?” Taking advantage that he still wasn’t looking, I quickly combed my hair as best as I could. “You can turn around now, by the way”
“I’ll cook you dinner!” He excitedly said, now facing me. “To make it up to you!”
I tilted my head, endeared by the sweet thought. I observed him as I rolled up the sleeves so they didn’t cover my hands, but he seemed determined.
“Are you serious? You can cook?” I examined his features, looking for any hints that he was teasing me.
“Yeah!” He nodded, excited. “What do you think?”
“That’s fair, I guess. You kind of owe me one”
“What would you like to eat?”
“I don’t know… Surprise me”
“Great! I’ll pick you up… Wait, I don’t know where you live”
“Do you have a pen?”
Reese held one finger up and proceeded to rummage through his pockets. He pulled out some coins, an empty gum wrapper, a napkin, and finally a permanent marker. Probably the one he used the other day to wreck his book.
I took it from him and wrote my address on his hand. As I did, I felt him staring at me and it made me smile a little. Were we… flirting?
“There” I returned the marker and he grinned widely.
“Cool!” Reese blew on his palm so the ink dried faster. “Pick you up at 8!”
Even if I felt stupid when my cheeks started burning, I couldn’t help but to also be excited myself. It was my chance to get to know him better and spend some time alone with him.
I hoped he hadn’t noticed I was blushing, but my hopes were foiled when he started snickering.
“What?” I averted my gaze, even if he playfully shoved me a little.
“You look small in my shirt” Reese replied, clear amusement in his voice.
“Shut up” I shoved him too, although a chuckle escaped my lips.
*
When Reese parked the car, I took a look at his house from the copilot seat. It was a medium size house, and the lawn was yellowish and unattended. The house itself seemed a bit messy, but somehow still homey.
We both got out of the vehicle, still silent as we had been since he picked me up. We had only said ‘hello’ to each other. Why were we so awkward all of a sudden? After the moment we shared in the girl’s bathroom, I thought it would be easier to chat with him. But maybe it was harder because of that moment we shared. Our relationship had evolved from being almost non existent to kind of flirty.
“You… You look hot” Was Reese’s attempt to break the heavy silence.
“What?” I mumbled to buy some time, feeling how my cheeks flushed.
“I mean…” Reese scratched the back of his head as we walked to the front door. “You usually look good, but tonight you look great and uh… yeah…”
I bit on my bottom lip as we stopped at the threshold and he occupied himself with looking for his keys. When he found them, however, he stopped before putting it on the lock.
“My parents are gonna love you” He said to change the subject, smiling at me.
“Wait” I put a hand over his arm to keep him from opening the door. “Your parents?”
“Yeah” He shrugged nonchalantly. “They wouldn’t let me have the house, and they insisted on meeting you”
“Your parents” I repeated, feeling overwhelmed to be meeting them.
“Yeah!” Reese insisted, now opening the door and letting me come in.
“O-Okay…” I was just… Why was I nervous all of a sudden? He was probably only introducing me as his friend, nothing more. Did I want to be introduced as something more?
“Dinner’s almost ready” Reese told me, a hint of pride glinting in his green eyes.
“Smells delicious” I genuinely said, because even if I couldn’t tell what there was for dinner, I sure was looking forward to eat it.
“Thanks, I-“ He interrupted himself, frowning as a sudden thought seemed to hit him. “Wait, where’s dad?”
That said, Reese walked away muttering something about his father eating the food prematurely. I stood there, but I laughed a little since it seemed like the apple didn’t fall far from the tree.
“Hey, Y/N” Malcolm greeted me, walking into the room with me. “You look pretty”
“Thank you!” I played with my hair, relieved that at least my appearance was actually good. I chuckled, though, remembering Reese’s way of expressing the same thing. “Reese thought so too”
“Hi!” Someone else said, a slightly high-pitched voice. “You must be Y/N, I’m Dewey”
“Hello, Dewey” I smiled at the younger boy. “Then you must be their little brother”
“Yeah, but Jamie is the youngest now”
“I bet is a pain to have Malcolm and Reese as older brothers”
Malcolm rolled his eyes at me, but his younger brother laughed.
“I like her” Dewey said before returning to the kitchen, where Reese’s voice mixed with a male one that I assumed was his father’s.
I leaned on the wall and Malcolm gently nudged me in the ribs.
“You doing okay, Y/N?”
“Yeah, why?”
“You look a bit nervous, I don’t know what gave it away” He grabbed me by the wrist and softly pulled at it, making me realize I had been anxiously chewing on my nails.
“Sorry” I sighed, tightly holding my hands behind my back not to do it again.
“It’s fine” He shrugged casually. “But really, are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m just… freaking out a little”
“Why?”
“I’m really awkward around parents, you know?” Just thinking about meeting them caused my stomach to churn. I really wanted to make a good impression on them. “I… I just wanted to be friends with Reese and now I’m suddenly meeting his whole family”
“You didn’t expect to fall in love with him, huh?” Malcolm smirked at me, and I gawked at him for a moment.
“I… I’m not in love!” I whisper-yelled, hoping Reese didn’t hear. “Okay, maybe I have a crush, but…”
“Don’t worry” Malcolm chuckled. “I can keep a secret”
“You better, Mr. Smarty Pants” We both laughed at his new fond nickname.
Before he could come up with a witty or sarcastic response, however, a woman approached us.
“Hello! You’re Y/N, right?” I opened my mouth, but she continued before any words came out of my mouth. “I’m Lois, Reese’s mother”
“Hi, Lois, I-“ Without further ado, Lois took me to the kitchen to meet with the rest.
I looked over my shoulder to Malcolm in a silent request for rescue, but he shrugged a little even if with an amused grin plastered on his lips. Lois kept on talking, so fast that I barely understand anything. I caught Reese’s name somewhere in that myriad of words, but that was about it.
“You look like such a nice girl” She patted my back and basically pushed down into the chair. “Sit down, dinner’s almost ready”
The kitchen was a mess of people talking loudly, running around as well as the noise of cooking and plates clinking. Malcolm was the only person to stay calm in that craziness, as he serenely sat down in front of me and picked up a breadstick from a basket at the center of the table.
I thought that Reese could have warned me. A simple heads up would have sufficed, but he preferred to hide the fact that I was having dinner with his parents and brothers. He didn’t tell me that his parents were that eager to meet me either. Nothing.
Now I assumed I was to expect a couple of hours filled with awkward silences as well as lots of embarrassing questions about myself.
“Remind me to kill Reese?” I asked Malcolm, who boringly chew at the breadstick.
“Deal” He managed to make me laugh when he outstretch his hand over the table.
We shook hands to seal the deal as we waited for dinner to be ready.
*
I tried to be as polite, kind and helpful as possible. I offered to give Reese a hand with dinner, but he wouldn’t let me. The family insisted that I wasn’t allowed to set the table either, I was their guest. So I just sat there, patiently waiting to eat.
When the food was finally on the table, my stomach growled in hunger at the sight of the delicious rotisserie chicken with potatoes and varied great-smelling sauces, as well as the freshly baked bread. Did Reese make all of that himself? I was honestly impressed.
The bunch of us immediately started eating, giving our compliments to the cook for the exquisite feast. Who knew Reese was such a good cook?
Then we started chatting, and so it began. It was pretty insane:
Lois kept talking about how I could be a good influence on Reese and that lately he hadn’t been as reckless, ever since he spent more time with me, all this while the aforesaid complained under his breath.
Hal –the father, he had introduced himself –asked me lots of questions, wanting to know if I was in the same class as Reese and such. At least I assumed he meant to avoid any of those awkward silences I dreaded.
Dewey seemed to be more intrigued about what Reese had done to get me to come, did he threaten me? Had he intimidated me into that torture? He couldn’t understand why I was there.
The little one, Jamie, looked from one to the other in curiosity.
And Malcolm, all the while, was having the time of his life watching the whole thing while I suffered in silence.
“Malcolm” I kicked him under the table and mouthed the following words. “Please. Help”
“Okay” He finally spoke up, smiling in spite of himself. “Mom, dad, leave her alone. You too, Dewey”
“Sorry” Lois sat at my right, patting my arm. “We’re just excited that Reese decided to do something nice for you”
“Yeah, that means you’re quite the catch!” Hal cheerfully added.
“Stop it!” Reese said as he stood up to get the dessert. “You’re gonna scare her off!”
I had to chuckle in spite of it all. After the anxiety inducing start of the night, we were now having a more casual conversation. Then Reese put a soufflé over the table and we dug in too, moved by the delicious smell of his baking creation.
“This definitely makes up for everything” I bumped my shoulder against Reese’s as soon as he sat down to my left. “It was the best meal I ever-“
“Make up?” Lois repeated in outrage. “What did he do?”
“Oh, no…” I uttered, realizing I had messed up. “N-Nothing”
“For the love of god, Reese!” His mother insisted. “What did you do to this poor girl?”
“I didn’t do anything!” He defended himself, even if he wouldn’t meet with her eyes.
“He, uh…” I piped up, wanting to fix my mishap. “It’s kind of silly, really. No biggie, Reese was just…”
“What happened, Reese?” Hal asked him tiredly, but his son didn’t reply.
“He was sitting outside with his legs stretched out, right? And so, uh…” I gulped, seeing as Reese remained silent. “I passed by him, but I was reading a book as I walked and I tripped over his legs. Funny, right?”
“Reese, what did you do?” Lois didn’t buy my story at all.
“I threw a water balloon at her” Reese confessed. “Filled with goo”
“You did what?!” Lois’ volume suddenly increased, so much so that I winced at her shouting. “Are you really that stupid?!”
Reese clicked his tongue but didn’t respond. He didn’t seem surprised, offended or hurt by her words. He just accepted it, like he was used to it. It made me feel bad, that he truly thought himself to be that stupid or useless.
I noticed his elbows rested on his thighs instead of over the table, so I placed a hand over his forearm and squeezed it softly. When our eyes met, I smiled at him and he did too. Then, he didn’t seem all that bothered by his mother’s lecture anymore.
*
Everything settled down in the end and I ended up having a great time with the Wilkersons while we played charades after dinner. Lois was still convinced that I would do Reese some good sticking by his side since I was such a ‘good influence’ but everyone else relaxed and focused on the game instead of me.
When Reese and I got back in the car so he could drive me home, I was equally relieved yet sad to leave. His family might be a little crazy, but they were genuine and I appreciated them.
“So…” Reese began after a while, keeping his eyes on the road. “How did you like my family?”
“They were cool, but they were a lot”
“I know”
Another moment of silence followed, so I decided to lighten up the tension.
“You still owe me one, you jerk”
“What, why?”
“For what you just put me through!”
“You’re right”
“And… Wait, that’s it? No buts?”
“No, I should have told you as soon as I knew we wouldn’t be alone, but…” Reese frowned saddly. “I didn’t want you to get mad or not come. It was stupid, I’m sorry”
“Reese, you’re not stupid” I wanted him to stop feeling like that. “Maybe you’re not as… harmless or sensitive as I expected you to be, but you’re not dumb”
“What do you mean?” He pretended to be nonchalant, but I noticed how tightly he gripped the steering wheel.
“Just because you do stupid things, that doesn’t make you stupid”
“Why are you saying this?” Reese stopped the car, and I realized we had arrived.
“Because I know you think you are and I don’t want you to” Flustered by what I was admitting, I watched my house through the window. “Just because people say it, you don’t have to believe it”
He might not be the brightest, and he was a bit of a brute sometimes. But I had seen he could be sweet too, maybe even sensitive. He was just a bit of a mess, but then again so was I. After all, I knew what it felt like to have no friends, or to be judged by people. Or to hide my true feelings behind a facade. Mine was too nice, his was violent.
“What do you say we try this again some time?” Reese interrupted my train of thought. “Alone”
“No families?” I smirked, teasing him for the night we had just experienced.
“No families” He grinned, turning to face me completely.
“That sounds nice”
“Great”
“Great”
“It’s a date”
“Yeah, and it’d better be amazing”
“Why’s that?” I frowned, pausing when I realized he was smirking at me now.
“Because, as I said, you still owe me, remember? And-“ I was cut abruptly when he let out a mischievous chuckle, and his lips suddenly covered mine.
The kiss only lasted a few seconds, but it was surprisingly tender and filled with emotion and I treasured every milisecond of it. When we broke away, we looked into each other's eyes. In the end, I chuckled happily and so did he.
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my-emotional-self · 5 years
Text
Con-Flicted (Chris Evans x Reader)
Pairings: Chris Evans x Reader
Warnings: Swearing, Smut, Angst, Drinking, Fluff
Summary: Going to the Seattle Ace Comic Con was like walking into a Marvel dream…..until some ungrateful people at the Panel got on your nerves.  
Word Count:  7k+
A/N: Chris Evans is at this con (let’s just pretend he didn’t back out) Also, I rearranged timing around a little bit (panel on Saturday before photo ops and autographs…that kind of thing)
Seattle, Washington. June 22nd.  Not only was it your first time in Washington, it was also your first Con you had ever been to.  It wasn’t the money that was an issue, it was the timing.  Each time Chris Evans was at a Con, there was always something in the way of you going; work, meetings, family.  But not this time.  Nope.  You made damn sure that you had an open schedule to be there; no matter how busy you were living your life in Los Angeles.  The only downside: all the VIP tickets were sold out before you got a chance to buy them.  
Walking through the doors of the venue Friday night was truly enchanting.  Today there wasn’t anything planned so you took your time to walk around and get a feel how everything went.  So many people were dressed up as their favorite characters, stopping you in your tracks.  Looking down at your outfit, you were wearing a pair of light washed jeans and a Marvel tank-top.  “Shit,” you whispered to yourself, realizing it would have been a lot of fun to dress up. Alas, you just didn’t have the time.
Vendors lined the wall selling everything from t-shirts, to buttons, to comic books and so much more. It was a dream.  As you walked around, you bought some t-shirts and Funko Pops to add to your growing collection at home.  
After a long day of walking around, it was up to your hotel room for you.  Taking a long hot shower, you dried yourself off and passed out on the bed; flying always made you tired.  
Bright and early the following morning you were up, hair done, makeup on and you headed down to the venue.  Luckily you were able to get a hotel room that was connected to the venue, making it that much more easily to go to and from.
As you made it to the venue, you immediately became overwhelmed.  Last night, while there were still plenty of people milling around, it was nothing compared to what you were looking at now.  Your heart began to beat faster as your eyes took in the crowd. Looking at your watch, you had about an hour to kill before the panel started.  Not wanting to move around the throng of people, your feet carried you swiftly to the auditorium and you found a seat right at the edge of the aisle where one of the microphones were placed.  
Your leg began to bounce up and down as you sat there anxiously awaiting the guys to come on stage. Behind you, girls began talking about Tom Holland and you had to hide your laugh from them.  They were going back and forth about what question they wanted to ask them and listing off all the names of people they wanted him to give a shout out to.  Shaking your head, you couldn’t believe that out of everything they could ask, they wanted to waste their time asking for shout outs to their friends.  It was completely ignorant and downright rude in your mind.  
Kevin Smith appeared on stage and the crowd began to cheer and clap; your cheering was a little more enthusiastic as theirs.  Maybe it was because you actually KNEW who Kevin Smith was!  
“Welcome of course to Ace Comic Con!  Is everyone having a good time?” Kevin asked the crowd and everyone cheered yet again. “The Ace crew has put together a fantastic lineup and today, we are going to talk to some bonafide Avengers ladies and gentlemen!”  The crowd went wild, including you.  Kevin went on to discuss how he has always been a big fan of not only Marvel, but DC as well and how lucky we are to be living in a time where they are taking those comics and turning them into magnificent movies for all of us to see. “We are going to talk to four people who have been a part of many of these movies.  First, we will start out with two of them because the other two are still taking pictures, but once they are done, they will come in and join us. So, without further ado, please welcome Chris Evans and Sebastian Stan!”
Everyone rose to their feet as the auditorium erupted into screams and applause.  Your heart was pounding in your chest as you saw Chris appear on stage.  A bright smile appeared on your lips at how absolutely gorgeous he looked.  He was wearing a pair of jeans, black tight t-shirt, and his ever present NASA ball cap.  His beard was trimmed to perfection and it took all your constraint to not run up there and run your nails through his beard.  
Ever since you first saw him play Captain America, you were hooked.  After that you watched all of his movies and realized just how terrific of an actor he really was.  Not only that, from what you had seen from his twitter and interviews, he was a great human being; standing up for what he believes in which was always a turn on for you.
Kevin sat down with Chris and Sebastian as the three of them talked on stage.  Soon enough people were lining up for questions as the guys on stage seemed to be having a great time.  Chris’ smile was contagious.  
You couldn’t help but watch Chris and the way he answered questions, or sat there and fidgeted on the couch next to Sebastian.  Knowing full well he had anxiety issues, your heart went out to him and this just proves how much he loves his fan to be here.
Without even introducing them, Tom and Anthony sneaked onto the stage and all the younger girls in the audience screamed so loud that you clenched your eyes shut tight from the sound; it was overpowering.  
“Better late than never,” Kevin joked making the four men on stage laugh and nod their heads. “Tom, are you having fun today?” It felt like five minutes of screaming before people quieted down enough for Tom to answer the question.  
“Yeah actually I’m having a blast.  It’s been a lot of fun!”
“And how about you Anthony?”
“Oh you know how it is,” he responded with a shrug of his shoulders and a smirk.  “These things are always fun for me to do because I get to pick on the rest of my cast members.”  His answer made you laugh like much of the rest of the audience.  
Kevin asked a few more questions to Tom and Anthony before he opened up the floor.  The questions went by with many of them seeming nervous to speak into a microphone and ask their questions; hell, you would be too which is why you didn’t want to ask anything.  The questions were simple, respectable….for the most part.  
“Take it away to the next person,” Kevin said and you looked to see a girl standing at the microphone.
“Umm, so first of all Tom, I was wondering if you could say ‘hi’ to my friend Mary, she’s a huge fan?”
Here we go you thought to yourself as you saw the girl holding her phone out and recording Tom.  
“Hi Mary!  How’re you doing?” Tom said with a smile from his seat on the stage.
“That’s probably going to make her, like, entire life,” the girl at the microphone said with a laugh. “Anyways, umm, so, I don’t really….well this is my first comicon,” she said with a nervous laugh.  “This is my first comicon and I just wanted to say that you guys are amazing actors and a huge inspiration and….just to point out to Anthony, Seb….Tom Holland, besides Chris, is the only here that actually HAS his own movie.”  Your jaw dropped to the floor at her saying that; your eyes wide as saucers.  It was such a disrespectful thing for her to say and you were flabbergasted that the crowd was actually CHEERING at her words!!!
Looking up at the four of them sitting on the couch, your heart dropped to your stomach.  Anthony was looking around the stage as both Chris and Sebastian tried to hide their embarrassment with laughs before their heads dipped way back.  From your view, you could see them shaking their heads back and forth.  
“I didn’t say it…I didn’t say it,” Tom said as his face was contorted with a mixture of a faked smile and embarrassment.  
“Things are getting hostile…AVENGE that comment man!” Kevin said.  
Sebastian grabbed his water bottle, Chris just sat there with his hands fidgeting in his lap, as Anthony began to speak.  “First of all….first of all, I’m pretty sure the movie was called ‘The Winter Solider’…..” the crowd cheered as you looked to Sebastian.  His face was hard, not even a hint of a smile as he nodded his head to his friend.  “I guess the two Academy Award nominated movies I did means nothing huh?”  
There were a few more ‘regular’ questions, people actually asking about the movies before another two girls stepped up to the microphone.  “Umm, yeah, I didn’t really have a question, but I just wanted to show this fan art my friend made of you Tom, and Tessa.  And I have a pitbull at home too so I just wanted to say I thought that was kind of cool and I was hoping you could give Tessa a pet for me?”
“I will, yes I will do that,” Tom replied with a grin.  
“Who’s Tessa?” Sebastian asked, confused as to who the girl was talking about.  
“His dog!!!  Oh my God educate yourself!” she spoke into the microphone with a scowl on her face as her friend laughed from behind her.  For the second time that day, your jaw dropped at the audacity these girls had to speak the way they were.  
Tom started laughing while Chris, Sebastian and Anthony had frowns on their faces, looking between the three of them.  
“You ah….you have a good time on the internet tonight,” Sebastian remarked with a shake of his head and you knew exactly what he meant by that.  The actual fans of the Marvel fandom would be making her into a meme and it would be ALL over the internet.  You grinned knowing that it wouldn’t be fun for her.  
“Time out time out…how do YOU know about Tessa?” Mackie asked.  
“He posts about her all the time.”
“Oh so he posts pictures of him and his dog?  Just hanging around at home?”
“Do you not follow Tom on Instagram?” she asked with her palms faced upwards.  
“Baby I’m an ADULT.  I follow no man, just so you know.”  You laughed so hard as Chris and Sebastian clapped, nodding their heads at his comeback.  Anthony always had the best comebacks.  
Next, her friend stepped up to the microphone.  “Ok, so before I say anything, I promised my friend Iris that I….”
Anthony quickly cut her off. “Ya’ll got a lot of friends. Where are your friends at?”
“I’m sorry…’friends’ maybe a term you don’t know…..” she trailed off and the crowd just gasped in shock at what she said.  Everyone on stage, all four of them were just as shocked as you.  
“What???” both Chris and Sebastian spoke into their mics as they turned to Mackie.  
“Oooohhh  ooohhhh oooohhh…I like that…I like that.  I don’t know the term ‘friends’, I know the term ‘family’.  When stuff gets tight, let me see where your friend at.”  
By now you had completely decided to stop listening to these young girls; not wanting to give them the time of day.  But you did faintly remember one of the girls saying something about a question for Tom and she didn’t really care about the others guys up there.  As you sat in your chair, your leg bouncing erratically up and down your eyes glanced towards the four of them on the stage.  They were embarrassed and extremely uncomfortable and now you felt the heat rushing up your neck and to your cheeks feeling utterly embarrassed FOR them, and for the rest of the Marvel Fandom.  
Once the girls were done, Kevin tried to end it but one more girl begged to ask her question.  All you ended up hearing from her was something along the lines of “I’ve been on my feet and in heels all day.”  It was enough to make you snap as you stood from your chair and went to the vacant microphone.  
Your heart was hammering in your chest but by now, you were running on peer adrenaline.  As the girl walked away from the microphone, you spoke up.
“Excuse me, Mr. Smith,” your nerves getting the better of you as your voice came out strained. Kevin looked at you, his brows raised. “I don’t have a question, I just wanted to make a real quick comment.”
“Well, I see there is someone out there who has manners.  What’s your name?”
“My name is Y/N.”
“Well Y/N, because you asked so respectfully, I’m going to let you make your comment.”
The heat was back to your face again as you blushed and you cleared your throat.  “I just want to start out by saying that every single one of you up there, are absolutely amazing.  Chris, Sebastian, Tom, Anthony, and you too Kevin.  You are all such talented actors and I want to say thank you for the movies you have given us.”  The crowd rejoiced and you felt encouraged to continue.  “I also want to apologize, on behalf of the Marvel fandom for today.  What some of these ‘fans’,” you stated with actual air quotes, “said to you guys up there, was disrespectful, and completely uncalled for.”  Turning sideways you glanced around the auditorium. “If anyone has a question for just one of the actors up there, you don’t have to actually go and say ‘you don’t care about the rest of them’.  The crowd, yet again, applauded you.  
You turned back around to face the stage and your eyes met Chris’.  He was staring right at you, staring right through to your soul and it took your breath away.  “Umm…,” you lost your train of thought for a minute.  “I know this isn’t part of your contract, to come to these cons and see your fans.  It is something you do, out of your own free will, and out of your own time.  There is no way that you should be treated the way you were today.  On behalf of the Marvel Fandom, I want to thank you for taking time out of your busy schedules to be here with us today.”
Chris, Sebastian, Tom, Anthony and even Kevin all stood up from their spots on stage and clapped for you. You noticed Chris quickly whisper something to each of his cast mates and they all nodded their heads.
As Kevin ended the panel you saw Chris whispering to what looked like a security guard; his head nodding in your direction.  Taking a deep gulp, you instantly thought you had maybe done something to upset them and were in trouble.  Sitting back down in your chair, you reached under and gathered your belongings before standing up, only to come face to face with the security guard that Chris was speaking with.  
“Are you Y/N?” the very tall and bulky looking man asked.  Swallowing the lump in your throat, you could only nod your head in response.  “Come with me.”
Fuck you thought to yourself as you followed him down the steps and trying to make your way through the crowd as everyone was leaving the auditorium.  You followed the man until you came up to the stage as he motioned for you to continue. Slowly you crept up the stairs as he ushered you behind the curtains.  
Your heart began to pound as you saw Sebastian, Anthony, and Tom standing next to a refreshment table, laughing, while Chris stood off to the side as he spoke on his phone.  
“Hey!  There she is!” Anthony’s voice boomed as he made his way towards you, arms out for a hug.  You couldn’t help the smile that graced your lips as you hugged him back.  And damn was he a good hugger.  “You know, you were our hero out there,” he said with a bright smile just as Chris got off the phone and walked over to you.  “Standing up for us an all.  I have to say.  It was ama-AZING!!”  Everyone laughed, including yourself as you felt the heat of your blush invade your neck and cheeks.  
“It was the least I could do after how some of those people were treating you guys.  I mean,” you looked down at your feet, feeling nervous from their gazes at you, “you guys put so much effort and passion into these movies for fans…it’s not fair for them to treat you like garbage when you take time out of your own life to do these kinds of things.”
All four of them murmured their agreements as Chris’ eyes never left yours.  It truly felt like he was looking deep into your soul and your heart skipped a beat.  Biting your lip, you turned you gaze down at your feet again.  
“Which is why we want to thank you.  How about you come up to my hotel room tonight.  We were all going to order some pizza and have some drinks.  We were hoping you would join us,” Chris spoke with a delighted smile.  
Your brain had to do a double take, as his words repeated in your head.  “Are-are you sure?” you asked with hesitation.  
“Of course we’re sure. It’s the least WE could do to thank you for what you did out there,” Sebastian chimed in.  At that moment, you weren’t sure if you had died and gone to heaven; or perhaps hit your head at some point and were dreaming.  
“Yes.  I’d love to.”
~~~
Since you didn’t have any autograph or photo sessions today, only tomorrow, you made your way back to your hotel room.  It turns out, the guys were all staying in the same hotel as you and you were to meet them at Chris’ room around 7 tonight.  
Looking at the clock, it was only 2 in the afternoon, but with everything that happened earlier, it felt much later than that.  Setting your alarm, you decided to take a little nap so you could be ready to hang with the guys tonight.
After waking from your nap, you lay there looking at the blank white ceiling of your hotel room.   Taking another quick shower, you re-did your makeup; making sure to keep it very simple. Taking one last look in the mirror, you gave yourself an encouraging nod before grabbing your purse and heading to Chris’ room, which just so happened to be on the same floor as yours; just on the opposite end of the hotel.  
Gathering a deep breath, you let it out before knocking on the door.  You could hear laughing and ruckus going on inside as the door opened to reveal a smiling Tom.  “Hey Y/N! You made it!” he beamed while opening the door for you to step inside.  
Looking around, you noticed it was a rather large suite.  It was a complete open floorplan with a large living room and kitchen; a set of double doors revealing the bedroom.  The furniture was very modern with sharp edges and neutral tones; the kitchen had dark wood with black granite.  
“Wow,” you said breathlessly as you looked around, realizing it was bigger than even your apartment back home.  Most hotels you had ever been in were very bland and boring; maybe you just needed to up your game and start staying in suites from now on.    
“There’s our girl,” you heard Chris say and the way he said it made go weak in the knees; his voice alone sending chills to your lady bits and you had to stifle a moan.  He had two beers, one in each hand as he came up to give you a hug.  And I thought Mackie was a great hugger you thought to yourself as Chris’ large arms wrapped securely around you.  
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” you giggled as he let you go.  Chris handed you a beer and placed a hand on your lower back, leading you into the living room.  
~~~
It wasn’t long before everyone was stuffed with pizza and booze; the suite echoing with laughter as you all were laid back on the couches and talking.  You were feeling relaxed and buzzed as you sipped on some sort of drink that Mackie had made for everyone.  The four of them welcomed you into their little group and you felt right at home. Chris also couldn’t keep his eyes off of you; especially your lips.  You caught him on more than one occasion watching your lips as you talked.
Chris wasn’t just watching you; he was being flirty with you also.  Each time the two of you were off the couch, either walking to and from the kitchen, or just standing around, he would always pass by you very closely. Many times he would even whisper in your ear, simple things such as “hey”, or “you look beautiful.”  Each time it made your breath hitch and you skin break out in goosebumps.  But your favorite part was when he would touch you with his hand to your lower back when he passed by.  This man was slowly torturing you in the most extravagant of ways.    
“Time for some fun! We are going to play Never Have I Ever! Everyone know the rules?” Tom said as he held up his drink.  It was a favorite past time of yours that you and your friends used to play in the summer at bonfires back in high school.  Everyone else nodded as Tom stood up.  “Alright. Sebastian, you start!”
Tom sat down as Sebastian stood up.  “Let’s see…..never have I ever…..had sex in a public place.”
“Really?  Never?” Chris asked as he shook his head laughing, taking a sip of his drink.  You bashfully grabbed your drink off the table and also took a sip.  
“Ooohh, look at our girl over here,” Mackie teased and you shrugged your shoulders; a playful grin on your face.    
“Alright I’ll go,” Tom spoke, standing up.  “Never have I ever hooked up with a cast member…or maybe in this case,” he said pointing to you, “a co-worker.”  Wheew, you were safe from that one; but Chris and Sebastian weren’t as they both took a swig of their drinks.  “Your turn Y/N.”
Standing up, you bite your lip trying to think of something that would perhaps get all of them to take a drink.  With a grin, you looked Chris dead in the eyes and spoke.  “Never have I ever hooked up with someone famous.”
“Oh come on!” a chorus of groans came about the room as you giggled.  
“Such a cheat,” Mackie said shaking his head as all four of the guys took a sip of their drinks. Looking around the room, you couldn’t help but feel his eyes burning into you.  With a small grin, your gaze landed on Chris and sure enough, he was staring right at you; his own mischievous smirk on his perfectly bearded face.  The way he was looking at you made you wet in your panties.  Biting your lower lip, you had to squeeze your legs together to stop the ache.  
Clearing his throat, Chris stood up.  “My turn.” You sucked in a deep breath as his eyes never wavered from your sitting form.  “Never have I ever slept with someone I met at a con.”  Instantly your cheeks became enflamed from the heat of the blush that overtook your body; and it clearly wasn’t from the drinking.  
“Ooohh,” came from the mouths of the three other guys in the room as they watched Chris stare you down.
“Dude, the point is to get other people to drink as much as possible.  Nobody here has hooked up with someone from a con,” Anthony chimed in with his signature smirk and chuckle.  
You stared intently at Chris, as he did the same; his eyes saying it all; not yet.  
A tremble went through your body as Chris gave you a devilish wink. 
“Damn it’s getting late. I’m going to head back to my room,” Anthony spoke up, breaking the staring contest between you and Chris.  
“Dude, it’s like, 10:30,” Tom responded giving him a goofy look.  
“Yeah and I’m old.  I’ll see you three in the morning.”  Anthony got off the couch and made his way to you, giving you a hug.  “And you all will go to bed soon enough too if you know what’s good for you!”
“Yes dad,” Tom remarked getting from the couch as well.  He too came over to give you a hug as you noticed Chris whisper something into Sebastian’s ear.  Sebastian nodded his head, giving you a grin as he came over to give you a hug also.  
“I suppose, it is time to go.”  Getting up off the couch, you began to retrieve your purse, thinking you should be heading out with the rest of them, but that didn’t seem like the case.  
Chris came up behind you and whispered into your ear, “stay for a while longer.”  A quiver went down your spine as you watched Chris head towards the door, walking his guests out.  Your mouth suddenly went dry and you nearly fell back onto the couch and hastily grabbed your drink; down the rest of it in three big gulps.   You are single, and so is Chris .  Have fun tonight your mind reminded you.  
Hearing the door close, you turned to see Chris heading towards the kitchen.  “Want another drink?”
“Umm, yeah, that’d be great.”
Sitting down next to you, he handed you a beer and you greedily began drinking it.  You weren’t sure what his intentions were for tonight, but at this point, you didn’t care one big.  He was a drop dead gorgeous man, and you were single.  You were allowed to have fun, right?
He sat rather close to you and the heat radiating off of him was searing.  The more you drank, the more brave you became and before you knew it, the words tumbled from your mouth.  “You’ve been watching me a lot tonight.”
Chris’ chest rumbled with a deep chuckle.  “How could I not?  You have an amazing personality and it’s quite a turn on.  I couldn’t help myself.”  His arm came to rest behind the couch, right behind your head as he placed his hand on your shoulder.  “I’m serious Y/N.  I don’t do this kind of thing.  I don’t just meet a girl and then hook up with her.”  So that is his intention tonight you thought to yourself.  “But there is something different about you.  You’re honest and caring.  Funny as fuck and not to mention fahking beautiful.”  There it was; his Boston accent you had so been hoping to hear.  “I don’t do things spur of the moment.”
You found yourself leaning into him, just as he was doing to you.  His words hitting close to home and it made you feel better knowing he didn’t just want to screw you and leave you.  The chemistry had been there, all night, that much was true.  As you got close to him, it felt as if a wave of electricity was bouncing off the two of you.  
“Do you feel that?” you asked, fanning his face with your breath.
“That connection?” he replied as his eyes glanced down to your lips.  “Oh yeah I feel that.”  He closed the distance and his lips finally connected with yours.  It was the greatest feeling in the world; but all too soon, he pulled away.  “Was that ok?”
Your heart was racing in your chest as you nodded your head.  “More than ok.”  You smiled before kissing him this time, putting all your sexual frustration into the kiss.  Reaching your hand up, you cupped the back of his head as your fingers threaded through his thick locks, earning a low growl from Chris.  The noise turned you on to no end as you moved your leg to straddle his waist.
Your lips continued to brush together, slowly at first.  Chris was a damn fine kisser and you found you could stay in this position for the rest of your life and be happy, just kissing him like this.    
His hands moved to grip your hips as the kiss deepened; his tongue swiping at your lower lip, begging for entrance.  You gladly opened your mouth, letting his tongue trace yours as a soft moan escaped the back of your throat.  Chris gripped your hips at the noise and you involuntarily ground your hips down.  
“Fuck Y/N,” Chris rasped as he pulled away from your lips.  He looked longingly into your eyes; his hips jutting up and you could very clearly feel how hard he was already.  His hands trailed from your hips and under your shirt; stalling at the clasp of your bra.  “Tell me to stop and I will.”
Your heart swelled knowing that he was thinking more intently about this situation than just a quick fuck and you gripped his hair at the nape of his neck.  “Don’t even think about stopping,” you cooed.  
With a seductive grin on his part, he unclasped your bra as his lips began giving slow, succulent open mouth kisses on your neck.  His kisses left you feeling dizzy in the best kind of way as your hands went to the hem of his white t-shirt, quickly lifting it over his head.  “Fuck,” you breathed out as you saw him bare chested; the tattoo on his collar bone just begging to be kissed.  Leaning down, you did just that as you let your tongue swipe across the beautiful words.  
It was his turn to rid you of your shirt as your arms raised.  He pulled off your shirt and bra with haste; staring right back at your bare chest.  “Fucking beautiful,” he murmured before his lips encircled your right nipple, making you throw your head back in pure delight.  You had never felt this kind of fire burning in your body and you couldn’t wait to experience more with Chris.  He gave your left nipple the same amount of affection before he began nibbling on your collarbone.  His large hands cupped your breasts and squeezed lightly, just as his tongue found a sweet spot on your neck.  A guttural moan left your lips and you felt his cock twitch beneath you.    
You began to gyrate your hips, needing to release some sort of tension on your core and it only spurred Chris on more as he lightly began to bite and nibble on your neck.  “Chris,” his name was a breathy moan as it left your lips.  
He didn’t need to hear anymore as he gripped your hips tightly and rolled you onto your back on the couch.  Chris made quick work of removing your pants and panties before positioning you into a seated position on the couch.  His alluring grin was back as his hands grasped your ankles and pulled you down a bit so your ass was close to hanging off the couch.  
Chris sunk to his knees in front of you and it felt like your brain began to short-circuit.  Is this really happening you thought as Chris pried your legs wide open for him. “Fahking perfect,” he breathed and his hot breath made you tremble from deep inside.  “You still want to do this?”
“Yes, yes Chris please,” you begged as your chest heaved with anticipation.  
His eyes roamed over your heaving chest before landing right on your open pussy; and fuck were you wet for him.  He began peppering the inside of your thighs with soft kisses; his beard tickling you as you tried to hold still.  Taking his fingers, he spread you gently and began to lightly blow making you wiggle with pleasure.  He damn well knew he was teasing you and he was getting a kick out of it.  Thankfully he wasn’t that cruel as his lips wrapped around your aching clit, making you scream out his name.  
Your head fell back and Chris moaned as he licked a strip right up your center and to your clit. Your hand grasped his hair as you wiggled your hips.  From all the sexual tension you’ve had tonight, you knew you wouldn’t be lasting long; especially with his expert mouth.  Fuck could this mad use his mouth.
As his mouth began to suckle your nub, he inserted two fingers into your core and you were a goner. Your orgasm washed over you in waves of pleasure; more than you had ever felt before.  You cried out his name as your body convulsed; Chris’ fingers still inside of you but they stilled their movements.  
When your high finally ended, you opened your eyes to see Chris kneeling before you; a beaming smile on his face.  “You are even more gorgeous when you come, if that’s even possible.”
A soft giggle escaped your lips as you leaned forward to kiss him; tasting yourself on his lips. Your hands trailed down his chest until you reached his sweatpants; your hand disappearing inside the waistband. A low growl came from Chris as your hand clasped his large and endowed cock.  “Oh that feels good,” Chris grunted as his head slumped onto your shoulder. Your thumb circled his tip, wiping his pre-cum all around him as you began to pump him slowly.  Hell, you were beginning to get off again just hearing the noises he was making.  “Wait wait wait.  Stop Y/N.”
You frowned at him, wondering if you were doing something wrong.  But he quickly kissed your worries away with the most passionate and heated kiss you ever felt someone give you.  “I just don’t want to come too fast,” he confessed with a smile as he pulled away.  “You’re turning me on like crazy.”
You chuckled as he stood up from his spot, shredding his sweatpants and boxers, leaving him completely bare just like you.  With your beating heart and even more aching pussy, you stood up from your spot on the couch and switched positions with Chris so he was now sitting down.  As you began to straddle him, he stopped you a second time.  “What about a condom?”
He truly was not only a gentleman, but the perfect man as you smiled back at him.  It amazed you that he was so caring and concerned. Most men wouldn’t care; they just wanted a quick fuck and then be done.  But not Chris.  “I’m clean and on birth control.”
Chris nodded as his hands raked over your naked form in front of him; eyeing you with greed.  “I trust you.”  His words made your heart skip a beat as you slowly lowered yourself onto his thick length.  The two of you groaned in pleasure at once.  You had never felt so full before.  Chris’ hands explored your body as your forehead rested on his; your breathing deep as you became stretched with his member.  “Are you ok?” he inquired.  Opening your eyes, you saw he was staring at you with consideration.  
A small smirk graced your lips as you nodded your head.  “I’ve uh…I’ve just never been with someone so big before,” you lightly giggled.  “It’s just going to take a moment to adjust.” Chris’ eyes softened as his right hand was placed at your neck, pulling you forward so he could kiss you.  His kiss was tender and gentle, making you that much more relaxed and easier to adjust to him.  
“I’m kind of glad you needed a few minutes to adjust,” Chris chuckled when the kiss ended.  Cocking your head to the side, your brows furrowed at his comment.  “Fahk Y/N, your pussy is so tight and warm.  If you would have begun to ride me right away, I would have busted instantly.”
All the tension released from your body once you found out just how turned on Chris was.  “Well, in that case.  Are you ready or do you need another minute?” you teased playfully with a wink.  
With his own grin, he placed his hands at your hips and lifted you up before easing you back down. No words were needed for you to realize he was ready.  As you placed your hands on his shoulders, you began to ride him.  Your breasts bounced as your thigh muscles were giving you one hell of a workout; but it was all worth it.  Opening your eyes, you saw Chris’ gaze go from your bouncing breasts and down to where you two were connected; watching his own cock disappear into your pussy.
Chris made a dangerously seductive growl before placing his hands at your ass, giving a tight squeeze. “YES!” you cried out, loving the way he was touching your scorching body.    
Without so much as a notice, Chris gripped his arms under your thighs and lifted you up, causing you to squeal as he began walking into the bedroom; the two of you still connected in the most intimate of ways.  
Chris placed you on the large bed with ease.  His hips snapped forward as he began to pound into you with a rapid pace.  Your arms went up to the headboard to protect your head from hitting it as Chris began to pound you into the mattress.  “Don’t fucking stop!” you begged as you felt the familiar ripple begin to tighten in your belly.  For, what it seems like the first time in your life, someone actually listened to you during sex and Chris’ hips never faltered.  In fact, he sped up if that was even at all possible.  Your toes began to curl and your muscles tightened.   “Fuck fuck yesyesyes CHRIS!” you screamed as your second orgasm of the night washed through you.  
“Right there baby…..FUCK,” Chris bellowed as he gave a few more sloppy thrusts before stilling inside you; his cum filling the inside of your pussy as his cock twitched inside of you.
~~~
You startled awake the next morning as an alarm blared rather early.  Groaning in frustration, you opened your eyes and realized you were cuddled in a cocoon in Chris’ arms; a smile gracing your lips as last night’s memories repeated in your head.
“Mmmmm, sorry about that,” Chris spoke as he turned his alarm off and kissed the back of your neck before getting out of bed.  
“What time is it?” you asked as you got into a sitting position.
“Almost nine.  I have photo ops starting at 10.”  He came around the bed and gave you a tender kiss before heading into the bathroom.  You heard the shower turn on as pushed the covers off your naked body, shivering at the loss of comfort.  
Making your way into the living room you began to dress yourself, a frown emanating on your lips. Although you had an amazing night last night, you were sad to see it end.  Chris was incredible; not just in bed but also in tune with your feelings, making you feel comfortable.  
Just as you reached for your purse, Chris emerged from the bathroom with a towel around his waist. He walked over to you, taking you into his arms.  “I had a great time last night.”
“Me too,” you replied hugging him back.  He smelled amazing and you didn’t want to let him go.  
“I meant what I said last night Y/N.  I don’t do these kinds of things without thinking them through.  If you hadn’t live in Los Angeles, I don’t know if I could have gone through what we did last night.  But since we live in the same city, I was kind of hoping things wouldn’t have to end tonight.”
Yep, you’re dead.  You’re dead and in heaven was all you could think as you stared into his baby blue eyes.  “Are you being serious right now?”
He hugged you tighter as you felt his chest rumble with laughter.  “Dead serious.”  He pulled away and gave you a chaste kiss to your lips.  “I want to take you on a real date next week.  Can I do that?”
You nodded your head quickly before the two of you exchanged numbers.  “I’ll see you soon,” he added before giving your butt a smack.  
As you left his room, you couldn’t help but grin as you headed back to your room.  Sooner than you think you thought to yourself.  
~~~~
Not having VIP tickets was a bummer, but standing in line for your photo op only let you sit and memorize everything that happened the night before with Chris.  Before you knew it, you were next in line.  
Opening the curtain, there you saw Sebastian, Anthony, Tom and Chris as they posed with a fan.  When Anthony saw you, his smile brightened.  “There’s our girl!”
You quickly got in the middle of them, with Chris to your right.  Taking a quick glance in his direction, you winked at him before smiling at the photographer.  It may have looked like Chris’ arm was around you in the photo; but lo and behold, his hand was placed firmly on your ass and you couldn’t wait to get back home for your first official date with Chris.  
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datheetjoella · 5 years
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Meeting Royalty
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Author: DatHeetJoella Fandom: Free! Pairing: MakoHaru Rating: T Summary: When they were younger, Haruka and Makoto made a promise to each other. Now, thirty years later, their promise is one step closer to being fulfilled.
In which Haruka and Makoto surprise their children with a visit to the shelter, where they meet two cats who might just become the new members of their little family. Word count: 5,766 Part: 1/3 Notes: This fic is a gift for my friend @softmakoharus! Everything she does is amazing, please check out all of her work.
Read at: AO3, FFn, or here!
                                                Part 1: The Surprise
"Sleep well, sweetie. I love you," Makoto murmured as he tucked Umiko in and kissed her goodnight.
"Love you too. Goodnight," she replied drowsily, clearly on the verge of losing consciousness yet fighting to stay awake just a tad longer so she could return her parents' wishes of sweet dreams.
Meanwhile, Haruka whispered similar words to Mizuki and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead. The poor boy was so exhausted from playing around on the beach all day that he had fallen asleep halfway through Makoto's anecdote-bedtime story. And he had been so excited about this particular story too; when he and his sister heard that their parents had starred in a short film back in high school to help recruit new members for the swim team, their eyes lit up with curiosity and they were all ears. Haruka smiled to himself as he recalled how their adorable faces had twisted in disbelief when it was revealed that their kind, sweet father had been assigned the part of the evil king. Admittedly, it hadn't exactly been a fitting role, as Makoto had proven with his acting skills - or lack thereof. The end result was cute, though. Haruka made a mental note to ask Nagisa later if he still had a copy of all the footage saved somewhere.
They would fill Mizuki in on the details he missed during breakfast tomorrow, but for now, he could conjure up his own fairytales in his dreams.
Once Makoto and Haruka were done saying goodnight to both of their children, they left the room to let them sleep. The small star-shaped light that illuminated the darkness was kept on just in case Mizuki woke up at some point during the night; while Umiko claimed that she was a big girl who wasn't afraid of the dark and therefore no longer needed the nightlight, Haruka was pretty sure that she hid her own fear behind Mizuki's and very much appreciated the glowing star. He would never call her out on this, but it was amusing and quite endearing nonetheless.
"Do you want tea or coffee?" Haruka wondered as they walked down the stairs together.
"Coffee," Makoto said, "but wait."
"On what?" Haruka questioned sceptically, following his husband into the living room but doing so with confusion. There wasn't much time left before the tv show that Makoto had been looking forward to watching would start, and he wanted them to be on the couch with a hot beverage before then.
When Makoto made sure the door was closed behind them to prevent their children from possibly overhearing - which seemed highly unlikely considering the sleepy states they had been in - a wide grin stretched his handsome face. "The shelter got back to us."
"Already?" Haruka asked, eyebrows raising in surprise, "That's fast."
While they were painting yesterday afternoon, Umiko had casually opened up the topic of adopting a dog for discussion. Her brother had supported the idea wholeheartedly, but dogs needed a lot of specific care and attention that they unfortunately wouldn't be able to give at this point in time. As a compromise, Haruka had offered that they could maybe get a cat instead. Makoto and he had already wanted a cat for as long as he could remember, and they had promised each other when they were kids that they would get one together when they were older.
Alas, after thirty years, that promise hadn't been fulfilled yet because it never seemed like the right time to get a pet; either they were too busy with school and training, or their careers caused them to be away from home too often, or every waking moment was dedicated to taking care of their adorable but needy infants.
But that was all in the past now; the children were a little older and didn't need round the clock care anymore, work at the swim club was calm and stable and they had a neat, orderly schedule. Their lives had reached a comfortable and steady point so he concluded that the time to expand their family with a cat had finally come.
As soon as Makoto heard about the conversation that was held when he was still at work, he scoured the internet in secrecy in search for a feline friend or two. Somewhere along the way, he stumbled upon a pair, seven-year-old Princess and five-year-old Duchess, who had been left in the shelter's care after their previous owner passed away. The instant Makoto saw the white cat and her orange tabby companion, he fell in love with their cute faces and thought that they were the perfect additions to their family.
After the children had gone to bed that evening, he showed them to his husband and fortunately for him, Haruka had immediately taken a liking to them as well. So they had written up an email explaining their situation and expressing their interest in meeting them, as the shelter required approval and a visitation before they allowed anyone to adopt a pet. Because of that, they decided to keep it a secret until the shelter gave them the green light. It would be bad if Umiko and Mizuki fell in love with them too but the shelter didn't think they were the right fit for Princess and Duchess.
"Yeah, I was surprised too," Makoto muttered as he fished his phone out of his pocket, "I already saw it before dinner but I didn't get the chance to tell you sooner. I was afraid the kids might hear something, and you know how inquisitive Umiko has been lately…"
Haruka understood where he was coming from; while they encouraged her curiosity and stimulated her zealousness, in situations like these they had to be careful. If she somehow got the idea that they had their sights set on two cats then they wouldn't hear the end of it until she saw them and they were hers. Of course, Mizuki would be dragged along with his older sister's interrogation and that wouldn't exactly make it easier. Precaution was key when it came to things like this.
"And, what did they say?"
An excited gleam appeared in Makoto's gorgeous eyes. "They said we can come to meet them anytime they're open."
A small yet nonetheless joyous smile appeared on Haruka's lips at that confirmation. They were approved on paper and were allowed to see them in person. The chances of the shelter denying their adoption request was significantly smaller now, given that they would like the cats and the cats liked them too - though he honestly didn't see why either wouldn't. "That's great."
"Right? I'm so happy," Makoto said, his entire face lighting up like a Christmas tree.
If it weren't the cats and their childhood promise being closer to being fulfilled that made Haruka smile, then seeing his husband so genuinely thrilled definitely would have done the trick. After so many years, that blinding smile still ignited sparks in his stomach. "Me too," he murmured softly, "So when do you want to go?"
"I was thinking Tuesday afternoon," Makoto replied without missing a beat, proving that he had already thought about that - not that Haruka had expected otherwise. "My classes end early on Tuesday, so that's when we have the most time to see them and play with them before the shelter closes."
"Sounds good," Haruka agreed, though he couldn't help but tease him a little, "If you can keep it a secret until then." They wanted it to be a surprise for the kids, but that wouldn't work if Makoto's unerasable grin revealed it all.
"I think I can manage three days," he argued, wanting to seem offended yet failing miserably when he smiled again.
"Are you sure, because your face says otherwise." Haruka jokingly poked at the curled up corner of Makoto's mouth, because that thoroughly elated expression held no secrets at all, not from Haruka and surely not from Umiko and Mizuki either.
Hearty laughter erupted from Makoto's chest as he swatted his husband's hand away. "I'm sure," he declared solemnly as he swiped his palm in front of his face and unveiled the serious look that was left in its wake. He was able to maintain that demeanour for about half a second before it crumbled with a chuckle. He bit his lip in an attempt to repress it, but it was in vain.
Haruka could only smile at his giddiness. In Makoto's defense, he had been able to not only keep Princess and Duchess a secret for the children for an entire day, but he had also successfully kept this information hidden for a few hours from none other than his own husband, who knew him through and through. He could do anything he set his mind to.
"Anyway," Makoto mumbled as he tried to recover from his giggles, fumbling with his phone for a bit and then he gave it to Haruka. "Here's the email if you want to read it."
Haruka quickly scanned the text with his eyes, his own smile softening when he read the confirmation for himself. But when he opened his mouth to reply, the tv in the background blared a familiar tune.
"It's started!" Makoto gasped and his eyes widened comically.
"Here," Haruka snorted as he handed him his phone, "You can email them back later. Go sit down, I'll get us our drinks."
"Are you sure?" Makoto asked, knowing that Haruka didn't like to watch something if he missed the beginning. When Haruka didn't waver, he muttered, "Thanks, Haru. You're the best!"
Before Haruka had the chance to stutter an objection to that, Makoto blessed him with a quick kiss of gratitude. There was truly no better way to silence him than that.
"Ah, I'm so excited!" Makoto sighed, and it was obvious that he wasn't talking about the tv show.
As always, Haruka couldn't do anything but smile in response to his husband's almost childlike enthusiasm. He was really too cute. "Me too."
The sea of children that had poured through the seams of Iwatobi Elementary's doors had long since dissipated, yet Umiko was still nowhere in sight. When Haruka pulled out his phone to check the clock, he confirmed that she was indeed running late. It was no point of concern for him, because he knew just how easily she could get caught up in conversation and lose track of time, but the small hand that was clutching his was slowly growing more and more jittery with impatience.
While Umiko had the tendency to be a bit tardy if she got distracted, Mizuki was very punctual, always ready with his little backpack firmly around his shoulders by the time one of his parents came to pick him up from kindergarten. He despised waiting and therefore made sure no one would have to wait on him either. While Haruka thought both of their habits were endearing in their own way and didn't mind waiting on Umiko for a couple of minutes when they weren't in a hurry, Mizuki got visibly annoyed if his older sister was taking too long for his liking.
Haruka averted his gaze from where it had been glued to the doors, that his husband and he had passed through countless of times when they were just children themselves, in favour of looking at their grumpy son. Most people probably wouldn't notice anything off about him, since a bright smile wasn't exactly part of his default expression, but Haruka could tell that his bottom lip was protruding slightly more than it did when he got here. That pout would surely disappear instantly if Mizuki knew what was ahead of him today.
"She'll be here soon," Haruka tried to appease him, smiling when Mizuki only huffed in response. "Do you want me to carry you?"
"No."
He wasn't going to insist; Mizuki would change his mind if his legs got tired, but Haruka didn't think it would get to that point. Even though Umiko was taking her sweet time, he was sure it wouldn't be long now. It wasn't like she would make her family wait forever.
Almost like he had sensed it, at that moment a familiar mop of black hair left the building and, as predicted, Umiko wasn't alone: three other children were with her, some of which Haruka recognised from playdates at their house.
The instant Umiko spotted her dad and little brother standing near the gate, she quickly said goodbye to her friends and ran towards them, red bag jostling on her back. It seemed like her face had trouble deciding which emotion to display; remorse for being late or the excitement that was the cause of it.
"Why are you late?" Mizuki demanded to know the second Umiko was within earshot, sounding like he was her dad instead of Haruka and Umiko owed him an explanation.
"Sorry," she apologised and though it was sincere, as soon as the word was past her lips, her enthusiasm won the battle and a wide, radiating grin appeared. "I was talking with Suzu-chan and Hiro-kun and Mari-chan. Suzu-chan got a guinea pig!"
"A guinea pig, huh?" Haruka muttered as he ruffled her hair in greeting before crouching down to kiss her head. Then his hand found one of hers so he could lead the three of them safely across the street to where the car was parked.
"Yeah! She got one, and her older sister got one too! She said guinea pigs need to have a friend."
"It's always nice to have a friend," Haruka agreed, but before he had the chance to say anything else about rodents, Umiko chimed in.
"Why are we taking the car?"
Usually, Makoto and he would drop off the kids at their respective destinations together before driving to the swim club in the morning. When school was finished, Haruka would pick them up again and the three of them would walk to their house, or wherever they happened to be going, so that Makoto could drive home after a long day of hard work.
"We're going to the swim club," Haruka replied, "I thought it would be nice to pick Papa up together. He still has one class, so we can watch him while he works."
It was technically the answer to what she had asked, but it wasn't the full truth either. Fortunately, it seemed like the kids hadn't noticed that.
"Can we swim too?" Mizuki wondered, although his way of moving through the water could hardly be called swimming just yet, as it was more like wading.
"Not today, I'm afraid," Haruka said, hoping that they wouldn't inquire further, "I thought you would still be tired of swimming after swimming all day last Saturday."
"I'll never get tired of swimming!" Umiko proclaimed.
"Me neither!"
Truly spoken like they were his own, Haruka thought to himself with a small snort. "Me neither," he echoed as he took his keyring out of his pocket and unlocked the car. Before they had the opportunity to ask him if he had already swum today - the answer to which was yes - he tried to change topics. "So, what colour is Suzu-chan's guinea pig?"
"White with brown spots, and her sister's guinea pig is black with brown spots!"
Successfully diverged.
While Umiko rambled on about every detail her friend had told her about the new pets, Haruka put Mizuki into his carseat and fastened the belts. Then he went to check if Umiko had strapped herself into hers properly, not wanting to take any chances when she was so busy chattering. Once they were both secured, Haruka buckled himself up and started the car to drive the route that had become more than familiar over the past decades.
After a short drive, they arrived at their family's business. Though the entire way here had been dyed with Umiko's high-pitched voice as she talked about anything and everything noteworthy about her day at school - though it was mostly still about Suzu-chan's guinea pig -, the second they came to a halt in the parking lot, she freed herself of her seatbelt and leapt out of the car to run inside.
"Wait for me!" Mizuki called after her, impatiently trying to unbuckle himself too but he couldn't quite figure out the somewhat complicated system.
Not wanting him to be left behind, Haruka helped him and lifted him out of the car so he could chase after his sister. He wasn't in a hurry like the kids were, so Haruka calmly grabbed his bag and slung it over his shoulder before he followed them inside.
They were far ahead of him, but Haruka wasn't bothered. The swim club was their second home and they knew this place like the back of their hands. Even the other staff members weren't fazed at all by their presence, as they had long since gotten used to the six-year-old and her four-year-old brother roaming around the halls. Knowing just where they were going, Haruka took a detour to the break room, the fridge of which contained some juice boxes reserved for occasions like these. Along with two of them and a bottle of water for himself, Haruka went to join the children.
Their faces were already smudged up against the glass, looking out over the pool area where a handful of instructors were having classes in different lanes, amongst whom their very own father. It didn't matter how often they were here to witness it, for some reason this remained to be a spectacular sight to see. Haruka got it though; Makoto did look really cool helping kids from all ages through the water - and really hot in his wetsuit, the design of which hadn't changed at all since he wore it for the very first time a little under twenty years ago.
"You'll stain the glass if you press up against it like this," Haruka remarked. Even though their enthusiasm was cute, it hadn't been long since he had last cleaned these windows and he wasn't eager to have to do it again tomorrow.
"Sorry," Umiko and Mizuki muttered in unison, immediately stepping away like the glass had burned their palms and noses.
Haruka smiled, bidding them a small nod of appreciation. "Here," he said as he handed them each a juicebox. Then he sat down on the bench right behind them and put his bag down beside him.
"Thanks!" they replied as they followed his example and plopped down.
After taking a swig of his water, Haruka rummaged through his bag a bit and pulled out a box of leftover vanilla muffins from last Sunday. They wouldn't be home until it was time for dinner, so he made sure to bring their afterschool snack with them. It would be bad if Umiko and Mizuki got hungry and cranky on a day as important as this one.
The same response sounded out again as the children grabbed a proffered muffin, nibbling mindlessly as they peered out over the pool. It was an occurrence as common as the next, but when Haruka looked at them, he was reminded of Ran and Ren, who he had taken here back when Makoto was first working as a swim instructor to help out Coach Sasabe. The twins had been a couple of years older then than Umiko and Mizuki were now, but the glint of excitement shimmering in their eyes was the exact same.
Suddenly, his hands began to itch with the need to capture this sight; the unawareness of the world around them as they were fixated on their father guiding other children through the water, with nothing to distract from it than the combined flavours of sweet vanilla muffins and apple juice. But a good dad always came prepared, and Haruka searched for his camera in his bag, trying not to rustle it too much in fear of disturbing the atmosphere.
He carefully scooted over to the edge of the bench and held the camera at an angle so that their vague reflections in the windows were within frame too. As soon as the shutter clicked, the spell was broken and their faces instantly turned to him. The excited glimmer was replaced by adorable confusion, their eyebrows twisting into a frown to complete the look.
Knowing they were just startled, Haruka said, "Smile," as he snapped another photo. He had already gotten the perfect, almost entranced-like picture, so a couple of goofy ones were a nice follow up to that.
A dozen or so photos were shot, some of which the children demanded be taken in front of the windows in the hopes of catching their father in action. The results weren't that great, but it was a task that was pretty much impossible to execute well, so Haruka simply obliged without protest. They'd forget about it sooner or later anyway.
Eventually the kids were reminded of their treats left abandoned on the bench and returned to them. Haruka put the camera away. He could continue to take pictures forever, but he didn't want the memory card to get too cluttered just yet. There were certainly more endearing moments coming up, ones that were rarer than these, and it would be a shame to miss out on eternalising them.
Time flew by as Umiko and Mizuki finished their snacks and babbled with their dad. Before they knew it, Makoto and his students were already standing on land again as today's class was ended. The children trickled out of the room and Makoto was left to clear away the kickboards and floaties that were used.
"Come on," Haruka said as he got up, collecting the empty snack packages to discard into a bin along the way, "Let's go to Papa."
The kids didn't need to be told twice.
They quickly traded their shoes for slippers and entered through the staff locker room, where Haruka grabbed the laid-out towel to hand to his husband. Unlike before, Umiko and Mizuki now slowly followed behind him, knowing that they weren't allowed to run anywhere near the pool because it was dangerous.
"Good work," Haruka murmured as he stepped into the room.
Upon hearing that voice, Makoto came to a halt and a bright smile stretched his face when he saw him. "Haru!"
A matching smile naturally broke through Haruka's demeanour and he threw the towel to Makoto, who caught it as effortlessly as always.
"Papa!"
"We came to pick you up!"
The chiming voices of their children drew Makoto's gaze downwards and his smile widened. "Is that so?" he chuckled, roughly drying his brown locks with the towel before letting it slip to his shoulders. "Thank you, I really appreciate it!"
"Is there anything I can help you with?" Haruka offered. He convinced himself that he asked it to help his husband out, but he couldn't deny the excitement that bubbled up in his stomach as he thought about where they were heading next.
"No, that's okay," Makoto declined with the cute head tilt that he never grew out of, "I just need to put away some stuff and get dressed and then I'm ready to go."
But instead of doing either of those things, he stepped closer to them and swiftly stole a kiss from his husband's lips. Before Haruka could ever register the contact, let alone respond, Makoto had already pulled back again with a cheeky grin on those enticing lips. The flame of playfulness that was ignited in his eyes went out as quickly as it was lit and swooped down to kiss Umiko and Mizuki's crowns before he turned around and strolled off.
"See you soon," he called over his shoulder with a wave of his hand, and Haruka couldn't help but snort.
He really loved that adorable idiot with all his heart.
Less than fifteen minutes later, the Tachibana family was seated in the car and conversation was alive as per usual, mainly thanks to Makoto and Umiko; the latter was telling the former all about her friend's newly acquired guinea pig. Because Haruka and Mizuki had already heard everything there was to know about it, they didn't feel the need to partake in the same discussion again. Since Makoto would always humour her and, like Haruka himself, was genuinely interested in everything she and her brother had to say, this was no issue at all.
On the contrary, Haruka was actually kind of glad he didn't have to engage so he could focus all his attention on driving. Though he was pretty certain he knew the exact road they needed to take to their destination, it had been quite a while since the last time he was there so he wanted to make sure that he didn't accidentally take a wrong turn.
The children hadn't noticed anything yet, and Haruka was glad about that. It meant that the surprise would only be greater when they arrived.
"And Suzu-chan's dad made a big cage, and also a big… thing so they could run outside in the yard!"
"Guinea pigs can get pretty big, huh?" Makoto commented, amused by their daughter's enthusiasm, "So it's good that they have a lot of space to move around and play."
"Yeah," Umiko affirmed, vigorously nodding her head, "Her and her sister's are still small because they're babies, but she said they can get this big." She made an indication with her hands, that might have been a teeny bit exaggerated, but Makoto only chuckled along.
"Really?"
"Yeah!" she repeated excitedly, "And she said that I can come over to see them sometime!"
"That's nice of her," Makoto said with his sunny smile, "When did you plan to do that?"
"I don't know yet. Hiro-kun and Mari-chan also wanted to see them, but Suzu-chan says she can only have one friend at a time over at her house."
"Why is that?" Haruka questioned with a frown at this new piece of information.
"I don't know," Umiko shrugged, "She said her mom said so."
"Maybe it'll be too busy for the guinea pigs otherwise. They might feel scared if they're surrounded by a lot of people, trying to hold them all at once," Makoto tried, but Umiko shook her head.
"I don't think it's because of the guinea pigs. Before she had them we could never play at her house together either."
"Maybe her mom's the one who gets scared if she's surrounded by a lot of people," Haruka joked, coaxing chuckles out of everyone. While Haruka knew better than anyone else that children could be a handful, he didn't really understand parents who had rules like that. Those types of playdates occurred every once in a while and lasted for no more than a few hours at a time at best, so it wasn't like there was much of a difference between having one kid over or two or three - at least, not to him. It only caused for some children to get excluded from playing with their group of friends.
And because he never wanted Umiko and Mizuki to get excluded, he wouldn't cause for other kids to get excluded either. The more the merrier, or something corny like that.
"Oh, and I told Suzu-chan and Hiro-kun and Mari-chan that we're going to get a cat, and they asked if they could see it when we get it!"
Makoto's eyes darted to the corner to shoot his husband an inquiring look, but Haruka just pursed his lips as a subtle sign that he didn't know either. It must have been a coincidence, for Umiko would surely speak up if she caught wind of what was going on.
"Of course!" Makoto replied, trying his best not to let his expression betray him and expose their secret, "You can invite them over when we get one."
"Or two," Mizuki added, so out of nowhere that it almost seemed like he was onto something. The look of indifference on his face, however, contradicted this.
"Can they all come over at the same time?" Umiko asked, diverting the subject from the cats they were going to get back to her friends, much to her parents' joy.
"Sure, I don't see why not," Haruka said. In his opinion, it was easier to have all three of Umiko's closest friends come over at once than to plan three separate cat-viewing playdates. "You can invite Tomo-kun over too," he told Mizuki, knowing that Mizuki only had one friend he was close enough with for him to invite into their house. He had been told multiple times that he was allowed to bring more friends than just Tomo-kun, but Mizuki always declined and said that he just wanted his best friend to come. It seemed like the other children in his kindergarten class hadn't unlocked the stage of friendship yet in which Mizuki felt comfortable having them over.
But even his best friend was not on Mizuki's mind right then. "Where are we going?" he questioned in confusion. The car ride home wasn't supposed to take this long, and he didn't recognise the buildings around him either.
"Are we going to the store?" Umiko wondered, since taking the car and picking up her father made sense in that scenario.
Makoto just shook his head.
"Then where?"
"It's a surprise."
"Oh no," she gasped in horror, "we're not going to the dentist, are we?"
"No," Makoto chuckled at the fact that that was her first guess for some reason, "we just went to the check-up appointment a few weeks ago, and your teeth don't hurt, right?"
"No," Umiko said, and even if she could have expected that outcome, she was still visibly relieved.
"I promise that you'll both like where we are going," he revealed, and that would be the sole hint he would give them.
Then it was Mizuki's turn to gasp. "Disneyland?"
That was probably the only place that would make them even happier, but he couldn't have been more wrong. If that was their expectation, then they were surely going to be disappointed; any place paled in comparison to Disneyland.
Thankfully, Umiko was the voice of reason. "Of course we're not going to Disneyland!" she argued, "Disneyland is super far away and we have to go to school tomorrow, and Papa and Daddy have to work."
"Oh yeah," Mizuki mumbled dejectedly, pouting as he averted his head to stare out the window. Haruka hoped that his frown would soon be turned upside down when he found out where they were actually going.
"No, unfortunately we're not going to Disneyland," Makoto regretfully confirmed, "but the place where we are going is a lot of fun too."
"The playground?" Mizuki tried, as it was technically a smaller, plainer version of Disneyland.
"Oh, I know!" Umiko suddenly exclaimed, the metaphorical light bulb switching on beside her head as she had an epiphany, finally able to connect all the dots. "We're going to get a cat!"
"Ding-ding-ding, we have a winner," Makoto announced like a game show host, making the children cheer like they just won a hundred million yen. "We're going to the shelter!"
Instantly, Mizuki's pout morphed into a large grin. "Yes!"
"Are we going to pick out a cat?" Umiko asked, her brown eyes wide and gleaming with excitement.
"No, we're going to meet two cats that Daddy and I picked out already."
Before the kids had the chance to moan and complain about not being allowed to help pick out the cats, Haruka cut in, "Papa found these cats on the website and thought they were perfect for us, so he showed them to me. And I thought so too, so we sent a message to the shelter, because before we are allowed to adopt them, we have to meet them in person. They said we could come today, so we wanted it to be a surprise for you until now."
Fortunately, that explanation satisfied them, and they began to rapidly fire questions at their parents about the cats' identities.
"Are they boys or girls?"
"What do they look like?"
"What are their names?"
Their passion was so endearing that Makoto couldn't do anything but laugh merrily, and Haruka's heart swelled with fondness upon consuming the cocktail of rambled curiosity and bellowing joy.
"Okay, okay," Makoto hushed with remnants of giggles, "Their names are Princess and Duchess, and they're both girls. Princess is white and Duchess is orange. That's what you both wanted, right?"
"Yes!" they yelled in unison, excitement dripping from their faces as they visualised their ideal cat in their heads.
"But Papa," Umiko mumbled as she recalled the conversation they had about their desired cats last Friday afternoon, "I thought you wanted a black cat."
If Makoto was going to say what Haruka expected him to, he was going to kick him as soon as the car came to a halt. But it seemed like Makoto had left his playfulness behind at the swim club and he answered earnestly, "It doesn't really matter to me, I'm happy with any cat."
Umiko smiled at that - if anything, she was probably just glad that at least one of the cats had fur in her desired colour. "How old are they?"
"Princess is seven and Duchess is five."
"That's older than me!" Mizuki gasped in surprise, like he had never even considered the possibility of that.
"That's right, and Princess is even older than Umiko," Makoto said, and their son's mind was positively blown by that fact.
"Wow."
"We're almost there," Haruka informed, disrupting their elated chattering. He hated to be the spoilsport, but the children were getting a little too excited about the idea of having Princess and Duchess as their cats and he had to remind them that they weren't theirs just yet. "Remember that we're going to meet them to see if we like them, but if we don't for some reason or if they don't like us, then we'll continue to look for a different cat."
"But," Makoto added before their grins could be wiped away by their dad's words to make place for crestfallen frowns, "I think we're going to like them a lot."
To support this claim, Makoto elaborated and shared all the details he knew about the royalty they were about to meet. It was safe to say that Umiko and Mizuki had already fallen in love with the descriptions they were given, just like their parents had. Now they probably wouldn't settle for anything less than Princess and Duchess - and fortunately, they didn't have to either.
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shoushatohaisha · 6 years
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review: hajimari no kyojin (osaka 6/1)
so. hello. i usually write up my butai thoughts as, um, 100+ tweet threads in the immediate wake of whatever i just saw, but this time around i thought i'd work them out into a proper report, of a sort. if you, too, have seen this show already and want to talk about it... please. any time. always.
about reviewing: this is my very favorite 2.5D franchise, ever. but this is also a review, not a cheerleading exercise, so not every single thing i have to say is unrelentingly positive. having said that, i respect kinoshita, wada, suga-zachou, and the staff at large more than just about any creative team in this corner of japanese theater fandom so like. i'm not here to drag, lol.
about spoilers: i talk about the plot elements covered but try to avoid spoiling any of the fun production surprises. :) happy to do a more spoilery play-by-play later if folks are curious.
about length: i just checked and it's 2400 words im so sorry.
without further ado...
first of all, i admit that based on the preview clips i doubted, and i was swiftly taken to task for doubting. IM SORRY WORRY-SAN i trust u implicitly and i should have known better. after the major changes in shinka no natsu, i was concerned that bringing back the revolving stage and the original opening theme would feel stale/regressive. it did not. while they did bring back the revolving element they also extended the stage backward and added a second level behind a full stage height projection screen – the second level was used to do some neat staging for flashbacks/parallels and the screen was used to, how shall we say this, up their projection game in a major way, which i frankly did not think was possible. i will not spoil the details but it was pretty great, on a purely technical level.
i also realized that a lot of the repetition – opening with the bike scene, bringing back the original opening credits music, the staging, etc – is the "look back" over the last couple years that i'd expected to come this fall. they are very obviously already preparing for the end – you could think of this as part one of their last show, with the fall as part two. the show opens with a restaging of sixth grader hinata seeing the little giant on tv for the first time – then the current karasuno team take the place of the tv and hinata joins them for a team jog. "karasuno, fight!" "oh!" "fight!" "oh!" only then each character calls out their signature line from the show so far. "uchi no renchuu wa chanto tsuyoi" / "mou tobenai karasu nante yobasenai" / "murabito b mo tatakaemasu!"
and haha. let me tell you. BOY, DID I FEEL THINGS. a lot of things. i think yachi got me the worst but they were all real bad. (i have so many feelings about yachi's story and what a beautiful job saitou ami did with her character on stage. god. ;_;)
the theme of this play was the role of captain – what makes a good captain, what a captain does for the team, and how to step into those shoes when the captain is gone. the johzenji match is fun, but here, in a sense, it exists more or less to set up the wakutani match – (re)establishing daichi's importance so that his absence feels like the gut punch it is. and fully settling the weight of that responsibility on ennoshita's shoulders, as both daichi's substitute on the court and the captain-in-waiting.
with that in mind, the rival schools: imo it wasn't strictly necessary to cast full teams for each school – each match got its own dedicated act, and unlike, for example, nekoma/datekou in karasuno fukkatsu (which had a similar story structure), there aren't really any individual characters on these rival schools who have a role as such other than terushima and takeru. (you know, the captains. see above. XD) so in theory one could get this done with, like, one actor for each captain and then an ensemble cast playing the rest of the team across both matches. HOWEVER, having all those bodies allows them to do super cool stuff visually, and why force yourself to create the illusion of a full team if you don't have to? i.e., /i/ sure am not complaining, isn't it nice to have $$$ to achieve the max vision of your choreographer. XD
i also have no doubt that the kids playing these other characters are doing whatever they can to create a character within the ensemble, and i suspect there's plenty for repeat viewers to pick up on, esp during say the johzenji match (see below). however for the first time viewer following the main flow of the story it's more or less a very large ensemble cast.
the johzenji chaos was well expressed, haha, there was so damn much going on all the time that i hardly knew where to look. (i've also seen opinions on j-twitter that that diluted the impact and i can see that too – it worked for me as a "funny" match that didn't cross the line into comic relief, but ymmv.) i thought the final scene with misaki would pack more of a punch, but i fully expect them to cry at daisenshuuraku so that might fill in the last 10% that's missing rn.
wakutani are another Good Dance Team. one did get a sense, stylistically, of fukurodani- and nekoma-lite with johzenji and wakunan, respectively – i assume that was intentional. mirroring the cats vs owls match, as it were. yanagihara rin's takeru was like… scary?? i had to rewatch those episodes this weekend to see if i'd just forgotten something, but no, stage takeru is not so much reliable middle brother as scowly quiet tough guy. he looked like a kyoutani tbh, and looking at the kid actually cast for kyoutani, one wonders if someone in casting mixed up some paperwork or something. having said that, yanagihara was great at being the character he was, i enjoyed what he did on stage. i'm just not sure that character was takeru. XD (edit: ok having just rewatched, i have to revise this somewhat, i think a big part of my impression was due to being too far back to properly see his expressions the first time around -- up close he was much smilier, and bc i was thinking about it i noticed some nice details like him going over for a family hug afterward.) otoh big post-match scene – all of wakutani, actually – was really good. v effective, i heard sniffles around me.
during this match, johzenji reappeared dressed as takeru's family: FUCKING HILARIOUS omg, everyone involved has clearly learned how to do this right wrt blocking, the very fine line between comic relief and intrusion, etc, after the, er, shaky shousha to haisha experiment of kuroken doubling as oikawa's fangirls. seichou shita na, errone.
also, some great wire work for hinata and takeru – you could tell kenta is really comfortable up there these days. the first time the wires came into play one of the women behind me went "UWO!" which, when a japanese theatergoer makes a noise out loud, that's a true sign something's impressive. XD
nekoma vs fukurodani: Yeah, That Happened. it is a testament to how well done karasuno vs wakunan was that i didn't just spend the entire time screeching BRING BACK CATS VS OWLS because fjkdajfkdlsfjd KYAA. another good staging moment – they used mirrors to create the effect of two full teams playing at a crowded gymnasium, it was brill. i won't spoil some of the fun details but vvjakdlfjdf. and tbh i think the best performance of the four was probably shouri's?? not that this is news but istg idk how someone so soft offstage does THAT on stage. is it this "acting" thing you speak of.
new bokuaka: i mean it was clear some of this material was meant for yoshimoto kouki and i did kinda miss him – i appreciate higashi-san's pinch hitting and he did a solid job. but. ah well. HAVING SAID THAT. fucking "michi wo tsukurimasu yo" i mean we should all be grateful it wasn't kouki and yuuki or it would have just been a fucking fanfic on stage. it was still bad and i don't even go here. XD
and last but not least, arita ushiwaka kenji: not exactly the world's most natural line delivery but that's fine because, i mean, he's ushiwaka. and his physical presence was perfect. which was about all he was called on to do in this particular show, ahaha.
now, for karasuno. and specifically, for my son, kawahara kazuma. remember what i said approximately a thousand words ago, about captains and captains in waiting and stepping up to the plate? (or onto the court, as it were.) ennoshita's story was the heart of the wakutani match and kazuma carried the second act. he was. so. good. he had good material to work with, of course, but he made it even better. i was saying to a friend that in retrospect i think this is one of the very very few parts of the series that actually played better and more emotionally affecting on stage than in the source material (as opposed to differently good/differently affecting). in the manga/anime, you can only see what the paneling or the frame shows you, and those initial paneling/framing choices are focused on the drama of CAPTAIN DOWN. but on the stage, daichi goes down… and off to the side you see ennoshita freeze. and from that moment on, for kazuma, it's go time. he doesn't let up until the end of post-match scene in (here) the locker room – which, jesus, that scene. it packs ten times the punch it does in the anime. because of kazuma.
sorry if i sound like a crazy person here ahaha. but like. like, imagine you have been acting since childhood, you've studied dance with famous choreographers and innovators, you had a main role in The Franchise That Changed 2.5D as a teenager, you've done a solo album, you have a serious history in performing arts... and you get cast in what was initially the smallest role of the entire karasuno team. and you take it! and pull your weight! kazuma was a team player for three years and he deserved this chance to let his actual skills shine so much. ;_; because i don't necessarily think he would have been better in any of the other roles than his actual teammates – but i do think he is a much better actor than several of his actual teammates. and he finally got the opportunity to show that.
anyway, when it came time for curtain calls, the applause swelled noticeably for kazuma – a louder ovation than anyone except kagechan and kenta. and one of those people clapping her hands off, say in row 20, just a random row choice, was definitely tearing up at the same time.
IN OTHER KARASANEWS. kt-san. LIVE IN PERSON KT-SAN BACK IN THE ROLE HE WAS MEANT FOR cries into my hands i love him daichi-saaaaaaaaaan. very occasionally his delivery reminded me he's a model not an actor, if you know what i mean, but like, for the vast part it didn't matter because he is naturally such a perfect fit. have i mentioned i love him.
new suga: mmmmm. he looked and moved fine but his line delivery did not convince me. tbf it's not like suga has a huge role to play in these matches so 1) it's not a huge deal 2) he didn't get much chance to get into the character. either he'll get better or he won't, and if he doesn't it's not going to sink the next play or anything. he seems like a nice enough kid, i wish him well!
kageyama tatsuya: still can't yell and enunciate at the same time. loved that they brought back the archer analogy from shinka no natsu though!! it was one of my favorite things about his kageyama, and it's nice that it's something he "owns" instead of imitating/inheriting from tatsunari.
tsukishima & yamaguchi: miura kairi continues to get even better, i'm so pleased. <3 also, i love love love that they still use the musical motif from shousha to haisha for yamaguchi's jump float serve. it was the same in shinka no natsu, it's the same here. THE TSUKKIYAMA WAS REAL CUTE, great detail work before and after the serve as well as after tsukki's block(s). as for tsukishima, much as they brought back kageyama's archer imagery, they brought back tsukki's fancy katana kill block. (they didn't waste kondou shouri, either, i'll leave it at that.)
last but not least, MY ACTUAL SON AND FEELINGS TWIN, SUGA KENTA: ok like. to set the scene here. i have mad respect for this kid and also love him to death as a human. i think he puts more thought into this production than anyone else in the cast – he is practically worry-san's AD. and he clearly has a lot of real deep thoughts and feelings about the source material. so deep in fact that it took a while for me to come around to his hinata because while, for example, tatsunari's kageyama could have walked straight off my television screen, kenta went down to the manga and built hinata up from there. he didn't have a choice – he's nothing like murase ayumu's voice. all too often we, and i include myself here, think of the two dimensions in 2.5D as anime, rather than manga... but just as there's a big gap between the two dimensions of animation and the three dimensions of live theater, there's as big a gap again between static black-and-white drawing, and movement and color and sound. and when i looked at kenta's hinata as something created solely from furudate's art style, it all slotted into place for me. (naturally, ymmv.)
it also took kenta longer than some of the others, i think, to portray all of what he wanted to. shoen hinata was pretty yelly, and pretty single-register yelly. hinata is a yelly character, of course, but the balance between that hinata and Serious Match Hinata was out of whack at first. this got better and better with every show. and then—
his encounter with ushiwaka here. was IT. it was what i was looking for all this time. his delivery of hinata's big line there was like – i think maybe i clapped my hands over my mouth, unclear, bc it was like the final missing piece and i was so happy. kentaaaaa. ;____;
part of me wonders if this is what kenta's always had in his head but maybe couldn't get his face/voice to express the way he wanted it? OR, IT'S KENTA, SO MAYBE IT WAS ON PURPOSE and his previous Serious Hinata was meant to be like, just a feral hunger child whereas this is the kid who experienced the heartbreak of losing to seijou. i would love to ask him tbh. XD
anyway, my son, after five plays continues to grow in his portrayal of this character. kenta is the heart of gekidan haikyuu in so many ways, and i will be at their graduation show if it kills me.
(breathes out) i think that's. everything. a best setter award to anyone who read this far, and feel free to ask if there's anything specific you want to know about? i will be seeing it again this weekend for daisenshuuraku and will be sure to report back on who cried, etc. all hail volleyball stage the end. 🏐
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moonraccoon-exe · 6 years
Note
Hi, dear moonracoon ! May I ask for your advice ? How do you think an artist can get noticed in the ffxv fandom ? I really wanted to ask you since you're so kind and amazing ! ( >^
HELLO, MY DEAREST BEAUTIFUL ANON!!!! ヽ(・∀・)ノ♡♡♡
First of all, I’m sorry that I took longer to this than expected, at least for a personal ask. I didn’t mean to make you wait. (。•́︿•̀。)
Okay, let’s check your question!!
Hm! 
First off, I want to tell you that I’m not an artist. So the advice I’m giving you is the best I can think about, but thinking about what I write/post, and what I’ve heard other artists say, but it’s not entirely from experience. So know that if none of what I tell you works, it’s not on you, I may have missed an important advice that didn’t cross my head!
If you’d like, you could ask someone from the drawing/painting world. Yuu-senpai, Hana-senpai, even Solaris-senpai, or many others are very friendly and open and they could give you advice from experience if what I tell you doesn’t convince you. c:
1. The first 5 tags
The first 5 tags under your artwork are the most vital and important, because they’re the ones that actually show up in the Tumblr search section!
You want to use the first five tags under your artwork as the best. Final Fantasy XV and FFXV would be the first two I used, and then something more specific (if your artwork is an Ignis one, then next comes the Ignis and/or Ignis Scientia tag, etc.).
If you want to/like to talk in the tags (like yours truly!), use the last tags or, at least, start from the 6th tag and ahead. The rest of the tags won’t show up in the search section when peopel browse the tag; the rest of the tag space are there for personal use (so you browse the tags in YOUR blog, not in the Tumblr site). 
WARNING: I HIGHLY advice you to NOT use the first 5 tags to fish for attention! If your artwork is a Gladio solo artwork, you have NO REASON to use the Ignis tag or a Noctis tag or even something like a Lunafreya tag!! DO. NOT. USE. UNRELATED TAGS. 
It may work to catch the attention, sure. Someone that follows the Ignis tag may see your Gladio artwork because you used the tag. You’ll catch their attention, but it will be NEGATIVE ATTENTION.
This IS from experience. You do make your artwork reach more people, but all you get is for people to go “Ugh” and scroll past your stuff because you’re spamming artworks unrelated to the tag in the tag. So do NOT!
2. Reblogs
Reblogs are possibly the most vital, most important part to be noticed.
While tagging is GREAT and the first step to make your art go somewhere, I’d dare say the majority of people don’t necessarily follow a tag. I don’t; all that I reblog, all were reblogged from another blog. I only follow the Corqi tag because of how scarce material there is for it, so I don’t want to miss anything. But, for example, I don’t follow any Ignis or FFXV tag (mostly because I want to keep my dash as short as possible lmao, but also) because I follow enough blogs that reblog enough artworks, so why follow a tag if the rest of the people are doing it for me?
Reblogging is a very, very vital part to get noticed because your art is reaching those blogs that don’t follow the tags.
This is, however, not on you. You need another blog to reblog your artwork; one reblog opens many chances so someone else reblogs, and so on and on. The more reblogs, the more chances for more reblogs, and hence, the more people will see it. 
You know what I just thought and I have no idea why it never occurred to me before?
Let’s say you have your art blog. Do you have another one where you reblog stuff? Do you already have followers? Reblog your own artwork; post in your art blog, reblog in the fandom one. That way, you’re your first reblog, and because your reblog/fandom blog will probably have more followers than the art one (at least in a beginning), it has more chances of reaching more people. 
So it’s very important that someone else reblogs your work. This is not on you, as I said, but rather in people giving you a hand at it. Except we don’t always reblog everything we see. 
So why not try to get a friend that starts doing it? 
You’re on anon for a reason, but if you want, you can tag me in your art, or tag me in it pretending to be someone else who happened to see the artwork and thought about me, so I won’t know it’s you (and don’t worry, I won’t get suspicious; I have no way to know it’s you, and I often get tagged in other artworks by people even if we don’t talk often, so I won’t look at the tag and say “Ah! It’s that anon from the other day!” I’ll just think it’s cool someone tagged me in something. Your identity is safe with  me, whether you keep it anon or not
To be honest I don’t reblog EVERYTHING that I see, but there’s big chances I will do it. I really like all the art in this fandom, it’s crazy how skilled you people are! But yeah, showing me can lead to me reblogging it, and there you could find that beginning of the reblogging chain.
Or if you’re too shy to show me, show someone else!!
Any of your friends, or someone you feel confident with, or comfortable with. The point is getting one first reblog that can lead to a few more, and the artwork will start eventually travelling across the FFXV fandom.
Speaking of reblogs, don’t be afraid of reblogging your own work in your own blog itself!
A lot, a lot, a lot of artists do it. A lot of writers too; I do it often!!
What I mean is, think about the world. It’s not the same hour everywhere. I can post something during my evening because everyone is online on evenings, right? So it wil reach everyone.
Nope. To some, it’s night; to some, it’s bedtime; to some, it’s morning. It won’t reach everyone simply because of timezones.
So what I do is, I post something, and then I queue a reblog of the same post but it’s my “12 hour reblog”. If I posted at 6 pm, I’ll queue it for 6 am. I like to do the 12 hr one because I think it’s more chances of reaching many people, with the not-so-literal thought of “if it’s day time here, it’s posting on nighttime in the other side of the world, so in 12 hours it will be this hour tomorrow for them”. I hope it makes sense.
And sometimes I even make a 3rd reblog. Sometimes I do feel shy about it because I fear to be annoying, but 99% of the times it works and it reaches people it hadn’t reached before. 
It’s a way of sending your own work back to the top of the dashboard, and sometimes a way to give a 2nd chance for people to see it; sometimes we scroll past something without noticing, so a reblog will give us a 2nd chance to see it.
3. Posting silly stuff sometimes
It’s not a secret that sometimes a silly stickman comic you drew in 5 minutes gets more attention than the profound artwork you worked in for 10 hours. It can be annoying, disappointing, even discouraging at times. But it is, nonetheless, a good way to get attention. 
I’m not saying you force yourself to think about jokes; most times forced jokes don’t work. But if you ever get a silly idea, don’t be afraid to draw it!
People won’t think about the art and judge it. They’re just looking at the joke. And if they find it funny, they may check your blog for more, and maybe you won’t have more silly comics, but maybe, from 10 people that look in your blog for more comics, 3 will think your other work is AMAZING and will fave and maybe even reblog some of that too. It can even get you a couple new followers.
Again, this is not NECESSARY. I follow artists that have never once in their lives (of this fandom) posted any joke or silly thing, and I still follow and ADORE their work to bits. The only thing I needed was to find them once. 
4. Asks and requests
If you’re up for it and have no troubles, you could also be open for quick requests in your ask box.
Have you seen some of those memes/charts, with many facial expressions/prompts, and people request something? “Could you please draw (X character) in A3, please? Thank you!” That sort of prompts. That can be very useful!
People really like free art. Some of us don’t have money for big commissions, so sometimes, when an artist can make a 15 minutes sketch or doodle of something we like, that’s amazing, and it can lead to earning followers and/or reblogs here and there. 
NOTE: Remember, however, that you’re not WORKING FOR US. You’re not getting paid. Do it for fun, when you can, and don’t stress or overwork or take 100+ requests and try to answer them all in 2 days. It’s only for fun. Alrighty? 
But yeah; sometimes, requests can lead some people to your ask, and hence tto your blog. And it’s fun! A lot of people in this fandom have some damn amazing creativity for prompts (and boy, do I know this!!)
5. Collabs /Drawing for a fic
This works better for writers; people look at artworks way, way, way more than they read fanfics, simply because it’s less time consuming and immediate. 
However, collabs can be an amazing way to get both artist and writer to be known.
There are some that follow the artist; some that follow the writer. So when a writer posts a fic linked to an artwork, people will find out about the artist’s blog that way. And when an artists posts an artwork with a fic linked, people will find the writing blog. It’s a good way that gives and receives equally. 
There are people that are REALLY passionate about a fanfic, so you can be sure as heck that they will check out any artwork about it. That they like it or not, that’s on them, but they will at least check it out. 
So you can also draw for a fic you like, no collab needed.
This works just fine, maybe even better. With this, you not only get to be known, but you also make a writer HYPED AND ECSTATIC. There ain’t a feeling in the world like getting art drawn for your fic. So you can be sure that 99% of chances are the writer will reblog even if it’s not a collab (unless the writer is some FREAK, I can’t imagine why someone wouldn’t reblog an art of their fic???). And so, the people that follow the writer will see it too. 
This can work very well because it’s a way to get at least one reblog for sure, which is a beginning. :)
6. Join fandom weeks/weekends
This is a good way to have fun and get yourself to get known.
That is because this is a way so you will for SURE have at least one reblog. And what’s best is that that reblog won’t be from a blog who has 1 follower, it will be reblogged by a fandom blog who has dozens of followers.
If someone is a lot into Gladnis, chances are they will follow the Gladnisweek blog. Maybe they won’t participate, but they follow it to see the entries of other people, and they have it for sure that the content will be exactly what they’re looking for. 
There is no way your artwork goes unseen in a fandom week! 
7. Be true to yourself; have fun
I know, I know. The most cliché of the clichéd advices. But it’s very important that you remember that.
Don’t draw for the attention; draw for yourself.
This IS another one from personal experience. I honestly never thought I’d write for this fandom, even less have this many followers or this many requests! And you know how I got here? Because I only had fun, shared my ideas, shared my passion for the game with others, I was honest and literally, literally only had fun.
Indeed, what pushed me to fame was literally just joking around. It was the Gladio’s pick up lines series. Which I did not because I wanted followers, I just wanted to make people laugh, and I wanted to share my jokes. 
All that I did was have a lot of fun and do what I wanted, not what I thought other people wanted, and eventually ended up here.
Drawing for attention is like drawing for money; it’s empty art.
You don’t dance, sing, paint, or write thinking about how much money and fame you’ll make. You dance, sing, paint, or write thinking about what your story will say, what you want to transmit, how you want it to look. You’re thinking about creating and sharing, not about the fame.
It’s as I said about making silly things or comics sometimes; it’s only if you want to and if you’re having fun, you don’t have (and must NOT) force it!! (Think about a gas; if you force a gas out, it’ll come out as poop. It must come out naturally. Same with everything else, art included!)
So stay true to yourself. Draw what you want to draw, as you want to draw it. True, you’re not drawing just for yourself; if that was the case, you wouldn’t post it online. You’re posting it because you want to share with others. But do so like that; draw for you and share with others, don’t draw what you THINK the others want or what you THINK the others will like. Draw what you want and what you like, and show us; you’ll find someone that likes it too.
Don’t stress about what people will like or not. Think about what YOU like, and that’s it. 
I understand the concern about getting your art to be known, but that comes later. 
And that’s all that I can think of right now! Gee, I sure hope I’m not forgetting/not thinking about something more or else. But I’m sure maybe some raccoobo can have advice too, so, while I can’t tell you for sure it will happen, maybe someone will drop a comment under this, so make sure to check the notes if you see any. My raccoobos are smarter and have more experience than me, so they may know something else! ヽ(・ω・)ノ
Of just draw the boys in lingerie, for some reason most fandom seem to like that? Lol. I honestly rarely like that and prefer them in fancy, but maybe I’m just old fashioned or a NERD. But really, draw what you like, this sentence was a joke c:
Anyway, buddy, that’s that!!
[I’m gonna add a read more; it’s not more, just my personal thanks, but as this is already lengthy, I’m gonna add this under a cut. Hope that’s okay, buddy :)]
Thank you so, so, so immensely much for asking me. I feel flattered that you decided to put this bit of trust in me. I don’t know what I did so you felt comfortable and asked me, but I’m happy about it!! 
Thank you for coming to this raccoonie for advice. I’m not the best at it, but I try. I hope any of this can be useful, buddy. Thank you again for the trust, it’s really valuable to me and I feel very honored that you asked me. :’)
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWWWWW, and thank you SO MUCH for saying such kind and nice and sweet things about me!!! YOU’RE SO NICE, AH, YOU STOP THAT! Now I’m a blushing and giggling MESS, I’m too weak at handling praise aklsdj dfskljf klsdjf d (*ノ▽ノ)♡♡♡ 
The raccoonie is here for any question or struggle that you have, buddy! I may not always have advice, but I can always share thoughts and ideas, or just read you and give you warmy and fluffy raccoonie snuggles, alrighty? c:
Thank you so much again for asking me and for the bit of trust, and for being so sweet with me
Whether you decide to show me or not, I’ll anyway be sending you some of my most powerful, strongest MAGICAL RACCOON VIBES so you get success and the fame and followers you deserve!! And I don’t know if you’ve followed my blog for a while or if you’ve read my other personal asks, but my magical racc vibes... ALWAYS WORK!! So now you ust gotta work hard, have fun, share, and that’s it. :3
So. *grabs pompoms* This raccoon will be HYSTERICALLY CHEERING ON YOU, OKAY. Greatest of lucks, buddy, I know you can do this!! GO, GO, A-NON, GO GO, A-NON!! YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!!! o(≧▽≦)o
Thanks again for everything, buddy! I wish you the absolute BEST and I give you lots, and lots, and LOTS of magical raccoon vibes so it works phenomenally!!! (ノ´ヮ`)ノ*: ・゚
Greatest of lucks!
I hope you’re having a MOST FANTASTIC day or night!! Hugs!  \(^ヮ^)/
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arc-17 · 6 years
Text
Darkness - Part 1
A Choices Whodunnit Fandom Fanfic
Introduction: This is set within the Alternate Universe @rr-roe-es aka @choiceswhodunnit 's game here within the fandom, starting right before the third murder and prior events are covered in flash back here. Before continuing on in the other parts, 2, 3, etc. of this fic series. This is VERY AU obviously since some of these characters lived at different times (Kenna Rys specifically) and well… have, or will be dying LOL! Since the premise of this whole event has sparked my interest, and I’ve really loved working with everyone on these mysteries, and gotten a bit of my old Role Playing skills up and running again, I decided to write the events as if they were really happening to the characters, within this AU, from Ryan’s point of view. So… without further ado, here it goes. ~~~~~~~~~~~ Darkness. It was within and without, in his thoughts, his dreams when they did happen, and in the room around him. He’d never felt anything like this, but… he’d also never experienced anything like this before. Not before coming here that is, to this castle, before getting trapped in this… psychopathic murderous game. Hollywood Actor Ryan Summers rolled over in his bed, unable to sleep despite the ridiculously posh and warm surroundings, had the situation been different; it would have been a dream trip. But instead, his fellow guests have been getting killed one by one while he and the other survivors get to play Sherlock Holmes and figure out how the killer has been committing the murders. Obviously it’s one of them, Kenna was the only person he knew coming here and he’d trust her with his life. It could be the staff, but knowing Kenna, she’d only have people she’d trust with her life, so no, it can’t be one of them. “…I am among you...” The first note had said, and it was the first of many he was to find out. Ryan got up and walked over to his window, reflexively testing to see if it too was locked from the outside, just in case. It wasn’t, and he opened it a crack and left it open. Moving back he sat on the edge of his bed as the previous two day’s events replayed them in his mind.
~
Stepping out of the limo, Ryan pauses to take in his surroundings, the crisp fall air of the open country estate surrounding him as he took a deep breath, enjoying the lack of city smell as he took a moment, straightening the cuffs of his Armani Tuxedo. With a soft whistle he took in the sight before him of the sprawling age old structure, a castle built in a by gone era “Haven’t seen a castle like this since I was in The Prince of Dragons! You ever see that one Jeffrey?” He says to the valet as he closes the door for him. “I cannot say that I have sir, but you’ll find the lady of the house inside, just this way.” He motions for Ryan to follow, another servant taking care of his baggage. Upon entering the grand foyer he spots her immediately, closing the distance to give her a hug. “Kenna! It’s been to long!” Ryan grins, planting a kiss on her cheek as they parted. “Ryan, it’s good to see you, tell me how is Cassandra?” She smiled though, it didn’t reach her eyes which he should have noticed, like there was a sadness she was hiding, but he discounted it entirely. “She is doing wonderful, as always, has her Pilot’s License now, I think when the examiner found out what she did in that damaged Jet with Dave and Sam it helped.” He chuckled. “That is good to hear” she said looking over his shoulder at some more guests arriving. She then gave his had a slight squeeze. “Maybe… if,” she shook her head. “I’d like to hear about your friend’s Sam and Dave, later some time if you don’t mind.” “Of course, It’s quite the tale, the adventure that those two get themselves into” he chuckled and then moved aside as she went to great the others, watching the other guests arrive, taking an offered glass of wine as a waiter walked by. There were a few faces he recognized, though didn’t know them personally, such as Leo, former Prince of Cordonia. The tabloids were alive with the goings on there and the “contest” for his Brother’s hand in marriage and the crown. He knew personally how unforgiving the press could be, and how hard it was to keep one’s personal life private. And then there was also Benjamin Park, the writer. He was a fan, though he tried to keep it low key. And he’d heard rumors through his friend Dave that one of his comics would wind their way to the big screen, where Ryan hoped he’d get the chance to get a part. He made a mental note to talk to him later. Having finished his glass while surveying the group, Ryan sets it aside and taps who he supposed was a passing waiter. “Pardon me son, when you have a moment, I’ll take a Manhattan, but eh, make it the top shelf stuff” He says with a wink. The young man furrows his brows, “I am off the clock. Get your own drink!” he says briskly then, pauses realizing who was in front of him he beams and the next words almost fell out of his mouth all at once. “Oh boy! Love your work sir! I’ll be back in a second with the Manhattan, sir!” Ryan laughed, resting an arm on his shoulder to have him wait, having given him a full look to see he wasn’t dressed like Kenna’s staff, and had a drink of his own. “Woah easy there friend! My apologies, I mistook you for one of Kenna’s crew here, but I see that is not the case. My name’s Ryan Summers but I guess you already knew that.” He smiles extending his hand in greeting. “I’m Daniel, waiter by day, and family friend of Kenna’s… any other time!” Daniel says, grinning ear to ear as he shook his hand. “And say, let’s work together! I’m game for an alliance” Ryan chuckles again, the young man’s infectious enthusiasm for this adventure impressing him. “An Alliance eh? Excellent because I have no idea why we are here, other than this is some sort of special Mystery game, event, thing, with mandatory attendance.” “Hey, any excuse for a party is a good one, am I right? Cheers!” Daniel clinks his glass against Ryan’s.
It looked as if this kid, Daniel, was a ball of anxiety and excitement. He probably was relieved to not only have a night finally off, but to have something to do on top of it. “Well said!” Ryan grins. “Cheers!” He returns, meeting his glass to his. He then pauses; taking a sip as he took a glance around the room then motioned with his glass. “You know anyone here? I only know Kenna, our host, though I recognize a couple of the other guests.” “Some of them are familiar. But, I’ve worked so many places, I’m not sure if we met or it is just Deja vu.” Daniel answered, looking across the room, taking it all in. “Mhm! True” Ryan nodded, taking another sip. “The faces do start to blur after a while, after so many get-togethers and shindigs. Well, it’s been a pleasure,” Ryan said extending his hand again, “I’m gonna go see if I can speak with our hostess and see where they took my luggage. I’ll be seeing you around Daniel.” He says with a warm smile, which Daniel returned as Ryan left; weaving is way through the guests. While he was looking for Kenna, he stopped when a tall young man tapped him on the shoulder. “Excuse me, Mr. Summers? I was wondering if you had a moment. My name’s Sean Gayle and-” he was saying, extending his hand in greeting when Ryan interrupted him, his face lighting up as he recognizes the young man, taking his hand and shaking it, clapping him on the shoulder warmly as well. “Hey! Sean? As in The Sean Gayle #5?! Heck yeah! I’m a big fan of yours!” “Yep, that’s me- Wait, you’ve heard of me? That’s awesome! I’m a big fan of your work!”
“Awesome buddy! So uh… got any clue what’s going on here? Kenna is being all… mysterious about why she invited us here, other than the whole mystery thing. Personally I think she’s been reading too many Agatha Christie Novels.” Sean shook his head “To be honest, I’m pretty confused by it all. Half these people are from my college, but the rest I don’t know. Do you recognize anyone?” “Kenna’s the only one I actually know, but I recognize Benjamin Park over there, he’s the one with glasses. He’s a writer.” Ryan said with a quick nod. “I think I’ve seen some of Benjamin Park’s work. He works in comics, right?” “Yes, comics, and good ones if you haven’t read them yet.” Sean nodded. “I’ve read a couple here and there- a friend of mine is a collector.” Ryan smiled “Really? Hmm... I’d like to meet him some time then. Keep this on the down low but I am a fan too. Just like to keep a few things away from the paparazzi, if you know what I mean.” “I’m sure my friend would love to meet you- he’s a great guy. And oh, I understand. It’s hard when everyone seem to know every detail about you.” Ryan nods in agreement, looking around a moment, taking a sip of his wine when he spots another face he knew. “So as far as others I recognize… hmm ah! And over there is one of the Princes of Cordonia, I believe the one that abdicated the throne. The cute one with him in the pink dress looks familiar too but I can’t place where I’ve seen her.” Sean looks over at Leo and the Lady Hana, as he later found out was her name, frowning slightly in thought. “I thought he looked familiar- he used to be on all the gossip websites. I’ve no clue who the girl is, though. His girl, maybe?” he said with a shrug then turns slightly, and points across the room. “The red head over there is my friend Quinn, and the girl with her is Michelle. We actually just got back from…. an Island getaway, so we nearly missed out on this.” Ryan smiles as he looks over at Sean’s friends. “An island getaway with those two? That sounds rather romantic. Reminds me of the time I played a down on his luck smuggler in the South Seas, got the worst sunburn though.” Sean laughed, “Romantic is the farthest thing from it I’m afraid- we were with a group, and some of the people there weren’t our biggest fans… ” He laughs again, “And sunburn is something I’ve been lucky enough to avoid in life.. You got to always slip slop slap!” “Yeah, you got that right! And the natives were restless eh?” Sean grins slightly “Just a little. But they turned out to be pretty great people once they got to know us. Sean then looked around, brows furrowed for a moment. "On a serious note… any clue what we all have in common? Seems like a weird group.” Ryan shrugged. “As for this group, your guess is as good as mine. You know Kenna our host?” Sean shook his head, scratching the back of his neck. “I know of her, but we haven’t met until tonight. I thought tonight may be something to do with Hartfeld, like a fundraiser… but it doesn’t seem like it.” Ryan nodded “Same impression I had, fundraising but… no long winded speeches and checkbooks spotted yet, guess we’ll find out together then” Sean laughs warmly “Yes! And so far nobody has come over to shower me in compliments, which is usually the big sign they’d like me to be generous.” He then goes quiet a moment, sipping his drink thoughtfully before changing the subject. “So tell me, how do you know Kenna?” “I met Kenna a ways back at a promotional event for one of my films, her and my friend Cass knew each other and kind of went from there, been friends since. She’s also lent the studio some of the artifacts in her collection for use in the films I’ve been in. And I think they want to use this castle at some point as well.” “Oh wow, that’s great!” Sean grins. “It would be amazing to see some of the artifacts she has- the history behind them would be incredible. I’m surprised they haven’t already used the castle- have you been here before?” Ryan nodded his agreement “Honestly I would like to see them as well. May not look it but a bit of a history buff myself. And no, this is my first time here actually.” Sean smiled thoughtfully as he continued “I think we’re all secretly a history buff. I only just recently became a fan of it myself.” He pauses, sipping his drink and he looks around at the others. “From what a few of the others here have said, nobody has been here before.” From what Ryan could tell, Sean clearly had some misgivings of this whole event, and was on edge, looking around and this crease of a frown always at his temples, something was nagging at him, but it wasn’t for Ryan to pry into. He’d only just met the guy after all. “Then it shall be a new adventure for all of us then.” He responded. Sean sighs, running his hand over his forehead. “I guess I should check in on Michelle and Quinn, see how they’re doing.” He smiled slightly to himself as he looks over at them. “If I’m honest, I hate this kind of thing, so I’m glad to have them here.” Ryan follows his gaze and smiles, then with a final sip he emptied his glass then setting it aside, he extends his hand again. “Well, I’m going to go do the rounds and see if I can’t sweet talk one of the servants into telling me when dinner is going to be served and when I find out more I’ll let you know. And maybe later we can get a chance to see that famous Number Five throwing arm in action!” Sean flashes a smile, shaking his hand firmly. “Sounds great- if you find out, let me know. I’m starving.” He laughs slightly. “And if you can find a football I’ll be more than happy to throw it around! Might break a few things in here though, so best take it outside.” “It’s a deal then! I’ll find a football, and then introduce me to your friends over dinner.” Ryan smiles with a wave as he moves off to continue his search for Kenna or one of the servants. “I’ll see you at dinner!” Sean nods in response, smiling back before moving off to meet some of the other guests. The rest of the night was a little blurry for him at the moment; he remembers meeting a couple other people, James another student at Hartfield University, a writer, who had written the script for that Indi Film that Hollywood was buzzing about. Brandon, a nice kid who worked the coffee shop at the same School, he too wanted to team up for whatever “Mystery Event” Kenna had planned. He also met Quinn, Sean’s friend, her smile was infectious, as was her laugh, and Jess, who went on this amazing cruise and had this crazy to do list with her family from her Grandma’s will. Also a girl named Brooke, a friend of Benjamin Park’s, who at last he also finally got to meet and plug his name in for a role in the upcoming adaptation of one of his comics. None of that mattered anymore though, not after the events that happened at dinner… That scream will stick with him for the rest of his life, which if things continue as they are, won’t be for much longer.   (Parts 2, 3 and 4 coming soon!)
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dartlekey · 7 years
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A Tale of Things Lost
Also on AO3 Rating: T Pairings: Takenaka Momozou/Inukawa Mameta, Background Gouda Musashi/Onigawara Tenga Warnings/Triggers: PTSD, Trauma, Panic Attacks, Partial Amnesia Summary: Inukawa returns to earth with a broken spirit. Takenaka finds a use for the tool he never asked for. Perhaps, they are fixing each other... Or maybe just dishing out salt and sass via bad jokes. It's hard to tell sometimes. Notes: Because this is a rarepair that's not explored enough, and because with the big scary arc looming the fandom collectively forgot what Inukawa's been through. Weekly updates.
Also, manga spoilers for everything between Chapter 98 and 100.1
Chapter One: Memory
Exactly thirteen days after their alien encounter, Takenaka fell out of his chair while sitting with the telepathy club.
 Well, technically it wasn't his chair, it was Inukawa’s. Each member of the club had their own chair that they always sat in; an outsider wouldn't have been able to tell the difference but the five - no, four - of them each knew the creaks and shifts of their chairs better than their time table. Months spent lounging, chatting and gaming in the rickety stools had seen each member gravitate towards and eventually settle in their favourite chair - however, in a rush of petty vindictiveness, they'd burned Takenaka’s after he quit the club. Now that he'd started to hang out with them again, he'd simply taken over Inukawa’s conveniently empty chair.
 He however hated that chair with a passion. Because the front left leg was just a bit shorter than the others and thus made the chair tilt whenever he shifted, because the back was too curved and made him slouch in a way that was definitely unhealthy, because the seat had a small chip that his pants kept snagging on...
 At least, those were the reasons he could bear thinking about. Easier on the mind than the feeling of wrongness he got from sitting in anothers’ place, of trying to replace someone who couldn’t simply be replaced; easier than the gaping hole left in the group by Inukawa’s absence. Easier than the crushing guilt that had kept Takenaka awake until late at night for the last two weeks.
 In short, he disliked the chair because it was Inukawa’s - in fact, the only thing keeping him from sitting on the floor was his pride, and even that was shrinking by the day...
  Don't think about him, Takenaka reminded himself and turned up the volume of his MP3 player. He'll be fine; Inukawa is smart and resourceful, plus he's always had that knack for languages. If he wants to come back, he'll make the aliens return him. If he wants to stay, he'll stay. Either way, there's nothing you can do.  
     But so many things I could have done…  
 “...naka. Oi, Takenaka!”
 Takenaka's head jerked up and he frowned at the sight of Tome glowering down at him.
 “What?”, he asked, pulling his headphones out of his ears and already searching for his normal plugs. “I said,” Tome grumbled, “we're out of snacks and it's your turn to buy new ones. I already told you yesterday, Wednesday is - was - Inukawa’s turn. Hop to it, space pumkin.”
 Takenaka rolled his eyes, stretching out his aching back. “Honestly, the amount of snacks you go through is insane. I’m amazed that you even-”
 Now I just  gotta tell the club. I wonder if they missed me...
 With a clatter, Takenaka fell from his chair. The other members immediately crowded around him with worry, but Takenaka pushed them aside roughly. “He - he's back!”, he stuttered out, then stumbled towards the door.
 Which was already sliding open. In the doorway stood Inukawa, wearing his school uniform and looking as if he'd never left.
 For a moment, everyone stood frozen - although their thoughts jumped back and forth so erratically that Takenaka felt a sharp stinging pain behind his eyes. Then Tome rushed forwards and caught Inukawa in a bone crushing hug. “Oh my God, Mameta! What took you so long?”
 That seemed to break the spell, because suddenly the whole club was clustered around their estranged member and bombarding him with questions, exclamations and teary-eyed hugs.
 Takenaka watched from the side, unable to do anything except mechanically push his plugs into his ears, immediately blocking out about half the clamor. He breathed in deeply, gathering himself, and clenched his hands to stop them from shaking. Then he said, as nonchalantly as he could, “Geez guys, give him some space. Calm down and let him sit, he can still tell us about his adventure then.”
 Inukawa looked up with surprise, but then smiled at him gratefully. “Yeah, that would be nice.”
 The others immediately made some space, and so they sat at the table, Takenaka pulling over a weight bench to sit on (and immediately wondering why he hadn’t thought of that before).
 “I guess I should start at day one? Well, after they took me to their planet-”
 Takenaka listened to the story like the others - meaning, using only his ears, not his powers. Part of that was simple politeness; it seemed rude, reading everything... surely there would be moments of his trip that Inukawa wanted to treasure only by himself.
 Part of it was Takenaka being afraid of what he’d find. Because he recognized the empty look in Inukawa’s eyes, the edge to his smile; the way his laugh seemed just slightly too loud. Takenaka had seen these things too often in the mirror not to recognize what they meant…
 Inukawa had experienced soul-crushing loneliness, the way you can only feel when you’re truly different from your surroundings. And Takenaka was not ready to break down in front of the telepathy club from listening to another’s emotions.
 It was an interesting story anyway; tales of banquets and fights and food and friendship kept the club members glued to their seats for an entire hour - then Tome and Kijibayashi excused themselves in order to study for finals, and promised to come back the next day to continue the conversation.
 Tome stopped though, before leaving, and ruffled Inukawa’s hair. “Glad to see you’re still the same old Inukawa. It would have been lame if you hadn’t come back.” Takenaka didn’t even know what to say to such blindness. Same old? Inukawa was back, for sure, but any close observer could tell he definitely wasn’t the same.
 Saruta looked from Inukawa to Takenaka and stood up. “I think I'll be going as well, if that's okay. I still wanted to check out a new comic book store at the station, and they close soon... “
 “Yeah, I guess we should all call it a day,” Inukawa agreed, stretching until his back made a cracking sound. “I'm still gonna be here tomorrow, haha.”
 He got up and went to follow Saruta, but Takenaka snapped to his senses and quickly said, “Ah, Inukawa? Could I talk to you for a sec?”
 “Huh? But we just-” Inukawa fell silent as his gaze jumped to Saruta’s and Tome’s receding backs and then back to Takenaka’s hesitant expression. “Ah, yeah, sure.”
 Takenaka licked his lips nervously, then pulled out his earplugs. For this, he didn't want any lies or misreadings, only Inukawa’s honest opinion. If he was going to catch Inukawas feelings - then that was a risk he was willing to take.
 As the others’ thoughts disappeared down the corridor, Takenaka stepped closer to Inukawa and told him, “Look - I'm really, really sorry about leaving you. I… it was so difficult, deciphering their thoughts, their thinking patterns are so different from humans - by the time I realized what they were doing I couldn't… ah, what am I saying.
 “I reacted too slowly - I should've been faster, and I'm truly sorry. I'm not trying to guilt you into forgiving me, I just wanted you to know that... “
 He trailed off, surprised, at the immediate (mental) answer. “Wait… you don't blame me? But -”
 “It was an accident,” Inukawa said dismissively. “Stuff like that happens pretty much on all trips, I was just unlucky enough to catch the worst possible outcome ever - I'm kidding,” he hastily corrected at Takenaka’s worried expression, “it wasn't that bad... “
 But it was, despite all the laughs and happy tales from before; it had been awful. Just saying it made Inukawa’s feelings surface, and so Takenaka felt the still-living echo of what Inukawa had gone through - the full and utterly crushing loneliness, the devastation and hopelessness and pain that Inukawa had endured… and was still enduring. Because emotions like that don't disappear in a day, and wounds like that take time to close.
 Inukawa tried to pull out quickly, to re-seal his feelings and switch topics, but Takenaka put a hand on his arm. “Hey. Don’t - you won’t heal if you keep repressing like that. It’s unhealthy.”
 Inukawa pulled his arm away, frowning. “It works for Mob.”
 “He also has a cryptid entity living in his subconscious that tears down the city if he gets too emotional,” Takenaka deadpanned. “You’re not okay and you need help.”
 “Well, what do you expect me to do?”, Inukawa responded with unexpected sharpness. “Walk up to a psychiatrist and say, ‘hey, I was kidnapped by aliens and now I need therapy’?”
 “Gee, maybe,” Takenaka snapped, “Sure sounds smarter than just trusting someone who’s felt alienated from society since he was five? I know what you’re feeling, and not just because I can read your heart.”
 Inukawa fell silent at that, guilty thoughts whizzing around inside his head. “But that's not - not all of it. At least, it'd be easier. I mean…”
 He didn’t finish his sentence out loud, but Takenaka heard anyway. “You don’t… remember all of it?”
 Inukawa shook his head. “My memory of the last four days of my stay is extremely blurry. The only reason I even remember the first six is because I kept a diary during that time. When I reread it yesterday, it awoke those memories… but the rest is still gone. I don’t even know how I got home; my memory starts at walking towards my house three days ago. But somehow, despite that, or maybe because of that, my emotions have remained from day one.”
 He swallowed and looked to the side. “You can see it, right? How I feel, all of it. How afraid I am. I've felt lonely and disconnected before, but never this bad, and never this long... What if I don't regain all of my memories, and have to stay like this forever? And what if I do regain my memories, but it changes nothing’?”
 He breathed in deeply and Takenaka felt him actively pushing down the bubbling mess of loneliness and anxiety. “You see? It doesn't help, because it can't change my situation. Not thinking about it is basically the only possible way to cope.”
 Takenaka smiled nervously. “Not if you have a telepath on your side.”
 Inukawa hesitated. He looked sceptical, but Takenaka saw a tiny seed of hope take root in his mind. “Oh really?”
 Takenaka nodded decisively, hoping he looked more confident than he felt. “Well I mean, I'm not an expert, but all that mind reading has made me fairly good at this kind of stuff - certainly better than any shrink you could drag up... In my opinion, you're probably dealing with trauma; repressed memory is a common symptom. Seeing as you're not an esper, I should be able to break the block in your mind, and probably even ease you through whatever fucked you up so bad… I mean, I have done it before,” he quickly added, seeing Inukawa’s doubtful expression. “My uncle, he was a soldier, and came back with no memory of the war he was in - he asked me for help, and I broke the wall. So, if you want, I can try for you.”
 Inukawa nodded, then frowned as Takenaka reached for his forehead. “Wait - you mean like, now?”
 Takenaka blinked. “I thought you wanted it over with.”
 “Well, yeah, but…” Inukawa shook his head. “Yeah, you're right. Why not.”
 Takenaka nodded, steeling himself, then flattened his palm against Inukawa’s forehead, breathed in deeply, and concentrated.
 Going into someone’s mind was always an odd feeling. Other people often assumed it was like walking through a museum, or an archive, all the thoughts and memories sorted and displayed prettily, ready for viewing… In truth, it was more like swimming underwater - murky and vague, thought currents pushing and pulling you every which way, opinions with jagged edges suddenly looming up in front of you, then disappearing again. Takenaka let himself be pulled along, swimming with the anxious and lonely currents, hoping to find their centre. He didn't have to wait long; the pull got stronger and stronger until suddenly his consciousness pressed against an uneven, tightly interwoven wall of emotion.
 Takenaka concentrated and pushed his energy into the wall, trying to make it burst. For his uncle, that had worked perfectly - because the wall, while appearing quite solid, was actually about as strong as a bubble against the magnitude of Takenaka’s power.
 With this wall, he received a nasty surprise instead. The wall pulled at him, trying to drain his powers, his strength, washing over him in an avalanche of despair and frustration. Takenaka jerked away, horrified - and found himself, yet again, on the floor of the clubroom.
 “Takenaka! Crap, are you alright?”
 Inukawa knelt next to him, hands hovering worriedly over Takenaka's s face and chest.  What do I do, I don't know what to -
 “I'm fine, it's fine,” Takenaka said, pushing the hands away with mild embarrassment. “I just... “
 He trailed off, and frowned, looking up at Inukawa. “That shouldn't have happened. This block, I've never seen anything like it. I mean - if it was a normal mind block, I should've been able to break it, easy. If it was guarded by an esper, or esper power, I wouldn't have been able to get in your mind at all. But this thing… it was like some kind of…  localized defense mechanism? Why on earth would you have that in your head? And how would it even get there?”
 Why’re you asking me? Aren't you the telepath?   Inukawa thought drily - then realized that, of course, Takenaka could still hear everything he was thinking. “Ah, sorry, I didn't mean… “
 He trailed off. “Why… are you staring at me like that?”
 Takenaka was staring at him like that because he'd finally realized what had been bothering him since the beginning of their conversation - and might actually be the explanation for all this weird stuff. Excitedly, he grabbed Inukawa's hands. “Do that again. Think something.”
 “I… what?”  Think something? What kinda request is that?
 “Wow,” Takenaka breathed disbelievingly, fingers now ghosting over Inukawa’s forehead as his suspicions were confirmed beneath his fingertips. “You actually… have an alien mind block in your head.”
 Inukawa stared at him. “What?”
 “I was thinking something was off about your thoughts… and then I realized - you have traces of the aliens’ thought patterns in there! That's why the block is so odd, and why I've never seen anything like it. They must have a psychic on their planet, or a telepath… maybe even something electronic? Something, or someone, that placed this block in your mind for whatever reason. Maybe to protect their secrets - or to protect you. I don't know, it doesn't matter anyway... but now we actually know what's wrong with you!”
 “Great,” Inukawa said with a decided lack of enthusiasm.  So you're basically saying the only person who could fix this is halfway across the universe.
 Takenaka instantly deflated. “I… hadn't even thought about it like that…” He cast his eyes down, feeling guilty he'd gotten so excited about the alien telepath that he'd completely forgotten about Inukawa's plight. “I'm really sorry.”
 Inukawa sighed. “No, I'm sorry. None of this is your fault, you're only trying to help. I guess I'm just… tense.”
 There was an awkward silence for a few seconds, then Takenaka was struck by another thought.
 “But you said you got the first six days back by rereading your diary entries for the first time?”
 “Well, yeah.”
 “Then the block can't be all that strong, can it? I mean, sure it knocked me out - but I think that was just because my intrusion activated its defenses. From the inside out, it should be easy to break… we just need to find certain triggers, things like your diary, to reactivate those hidden memories.”
 Inukawa frowned. “That... actually makes sense.”
 Takenaka laughed - then paused thoughtfully. “Admittedly, that might be tough, considering we have no idea what we're looking for... but I guess we'll just have to wait and see. And in the meantime, I'll do my best to make your loneliness disappear.”
 Inukawa gave him a confused look. “I'm… sorry?”  He'll do his best to -? Wait. Is he... coming on to me?
 Takenaka paled. “Wha- ugh, no, no, definitely not. I just meant - look, you don't have any friends, right?”
 Now Inukawa looked insulted. “What?”
 “No, uh, I wasn't trying to say -” Why is this so hard... “- of course you have friends, but like, not ones you can trust... With this I mean,”  he hastily added, making a sweeping gesture, “your emotions, your fears, all that crap that really shouldn’t be bottled up. Sure you have school friends, everyone has those, but you’re hardly close enough with them that you could tell them about the abduction - or even if you did, they wouldn't believe you. And I mean, the telepathy club knows, but they're…”
 He paused. “Well, a collection of emotionally stunted dimwits. They'd probably do more harm than good. But me - I understand what you're going through. I can listen when you need to vent, or distract you when you feel like shit. Or just, you know, hang out with you whenever, or…”
 “So you want to be friends,” Inukawa interrupted Takenaka’s rambling.
 Takenaka blinked.“I - yeah. That’s what I meant?”
 Inukawa snorted. “You could've just said so.”
 Takenaka opened his mouth and closed it wordlessly, hoping his face wasn’t as red as it felt. “Well I don't know! Nobody tells me how these things work.”
 Inukawa laughed. “For a telepath, you're quite socially inept...” Then his smile softened, and for once his thoughts and speech actually matched up.
 “Thank you. Let's… do that. Let's be friends.”
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