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sytco · 3 years

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common blessings [joochan]

pairing: childhood friend!hong joochan x reader

word count: 3.5k (!)

requested: "toothrotting fluff ft. joochan"

dedicated to @sahiflowers.

a/n: im SO SO sorry this took so long and i hope u like it even a little and that it makes u smile thank u for being so patient ily!! ily!!! reminder im always here for u!!

In which you find that time is meaningless when Joochan is not by your side.

wonderboy.

Sometimes, you speculate whether Joochan has some kind of genius for finding you as soon as the school bell rings, signalling the end of another day.

Today, he surprises you behind the auditorium where you lean against a maple tree, hugging your bag to your chest, because you’ve skipped your last period (Introduction to Psychology) in favor of lying on the grass so you can watch the clouds in peace. And Joochan smiles a fond, fond smile because you have that look on your face again that you only get when you’re lost in thought.

“Missed me?”

You tense from shock before relaxing at the sight of your boyfriend who widens his arms so you can walk right into them.

“How’d you find me?” Your voice is muffled in the fabric of his vest and Joochan reaches up so he can play with the back of your collar.

“Just had a little hunch you might be here.” And this is the answer he always gives, accompanied with the same smug smile each time.

You pout even if Joochan can’t see it. “That doesn’t explain anything.”

“Well now,” he says in an affected voice that sounds like the narrator from that National Geographic documentary on penguins the two of you watched last week, “I can’t afford to have you getting your hands on all my secrets, can I? I’ve got to keep some things to myself so that in ten year's time, you’ll still think I’m the most amazing and magical boy in the universe.”

It’s ridiculous, you think, how it’s nearly winter but the way you can feel the laughter that starts in his chest and electrifies you to your fingertips is more than capable of keeping you warm and making you feel like you’re really alive.

“Doesn’t matter if I find out all your secrets or not,” you mumble, “you’ll always be the most amazing and magical boy in the universe to me.”

From the courtyard around the corner, you can hear Jaehyun shouting a loud “Oi Joochan!”.

Joochan ignores him and instead casually pecks your cheek with a kiss that feels like a blessing. “Always?”

You tilt your head as though unsure. "Well… for at least fifty years, probably.”

“Fifty?!” Joochan echoes in mock outrage, and you playfully poke his side to which he flinches slightly.

“I was lying. I meant for all of time ever.”

And despite him doing his best to hide it, your boyfriend melts instantly, burying his face in the crook of your neck where he’s probably smiling his brilliant smile that feels like the sun against your skin.

Jaehyun’s voice interrupts the peace and quiet once again with a noticeably louder and more panicked tone.

“Hong Joochan! We’re going to be late for soccer practice!”

Joochan groans exaggeratedly and you can’t help but giggle at his theatrics. “Wish I didn’t have to go to stupid practice,” he grumbles.

“You know, I’ll wait for you in the library until you’re done,” you offer and Joochan perks up - if only slightly because your arms still feel like heaven after years of loving you, and two hours of kicking a ball around (while Donghyun and Jibeom brainstorm inventive ways to trip each other up, much to Coach Lee’s chagrin) just can’t compete. He tells you as much in the way his arms tighten around you.

“You’re the best,” Joochan declares suddenly, “I might be the most amazing and magical boy in the universe, but you’re the best.”

You snort. “Go to practice already before Jaehyun starts going spare, wonderboy.”

Joochan kisses your forehead one last time before he detaches himself from you with a dejected sigh and picks up your bag, slinging it over his shoulder despite your protests. “Walk with me to the oval?”

You slip your hand into his hand only to find it a perfect fit and wonder briefly if there is anywhere in this world you would not walk to with Hong Joochan, the boy who has a smile like sunlight and a personality like a billion shooting stars.

“Of course.”

fm.

There is the occasional moment in which you wish that your boyfriend wasn’t so exceedingly talented in nearly every field he tries his hand at, because the various extracurriculars that Joochan (being the naturally energetic and enthusiastic person he is) involves himself with have an awful way of making tremendous demands on his time towards the end of the semester.

Right now is one of those moments when Joochan trudges into your room and dives face first onto your bed without even bothering to shake his coat off. “So what was it today?” you ask in a voice that betrays your concern and Joochan can’t help but smile at it.

“Theatre rehearsal,” he yawns, “then string quartet practice. Also an hour of soccer drills with some of the boys. Even though it’s a Saturday.”

You get up from your chair at the desk so you can sit on the bed where Joochan immediately moves his head onto your lap, lifting your hand and resting it on his hair. You absentmindedly start stroking it, staring out the window at a soft grey sky.

“Did you eat?”

Joochan shakes his head. “No time. My dumb E string broke again so I barely managed to have half an apple before we went straight into a new Mozart piece today. Think we might perform it at the next concert. You’d come, right?” And he asks that in a self-assured tone, because he already knows what your answer is going to be.

You give it to him anyway because there’s no point in hiding your blatant admiration for all that he does. “No matter what.”

“And just to see me, right?”

You fake a pause that has Joochan peering up at you suspiciously.

“You do know I have friends who aren’t you that are participating in the concert, right? Like Jangjun and Sungyoon?”

Joochan scowls. “But none of those hooligans are your boyfriend, who - in case you forgot but I do know you’d never - is me.”

“That’s quite true,” you concede before leaning down to kiss his cheek with a smile that makes Joochan’s stomach fill with butterflies which are probably colored pink and green and blue. It never gets old, he thinks: your talent for turning his world upside down in a look or a word or an action. And you don’t even know you’re doing it most of the time.

“Mean,” he accuses but in a half-hearted manner and your smile only widens because you know that Joochan is supremely happy despite his exhaustion, if the way his brow has smoothed completely and he has started drawing little stars on your knee is anything to go by.

There’s a gentle lull in the conversation while you continue to run your fingers through Joochan’s hair, and especially his fringe. It’s almost as though time has passed you by, leaving you together in your own little reality where things like hazy futures and big concerts and broken violin strings do not dare draw near.

“Wanna order something later on for dinner?” you ask quietly.

“Maybe,” he grins through closed eyes, “but nap first.”

Your radio continues to run, and you drift in and out of listening to the DJ duo while watching the rain finally fall outside.

“It’s been pretty cold recently, hasn’t it?” one of the DJs opens the conversation after a small stream of ads.

“Sure has, pal. And speaking of the cold, apparently our first snow of the season is scheduled for next week Friday!”

“So do you have any plans lined up with a special someone?”

“Just had to remind me of how single I am, didn’t you”- rambunctious peals of laughter crackle from the speakers - “but maybe some of our lovely listeners will send in their plans for next Friday.”

“I sure did - and wow, they’re already pouring in! Do you wanna read one out?”

“Let’s see… Listener ha_miii_ran says: ‘I’m planning on confessing to my crush of two years. I’m pretty nervous about this so I’m hoping the two of you will wish me luck!’ All the best of luck to you, Ha Miran-nim, from the both of us. I don’t know how you’re planning on it, but hopefully the first snow will act as a good luck charm for you!”

“Yeah, good luck Ha Miran-nim!” the other DJ chimes in. “Be sure to update us on how it goes!”

“Well, we’ll be back with some more stories after this excerpt from a famous piano concerto - maybe some of our more classically-inclined audience will recognise its globally renowned composer.”

A beautiful melody begins to play and you’re on the cusp of losing yourself in the music when you are most abruptly interrupted by a sleepy, but decisive, “Gershwin.”

You blink down at Joochan. “What?”

“It’s Gershwin. The composer. Don't you think your boyfriend's clever for knowing that?"

“I thought my boyfriend was asleep, actually,” and you narrow your eyes.

“I was,” Joochan protests, “I only woke up when they were talking about the snow or something. And then they talked about that person who’s confessing to their crush of two years - got me thinking about how I can relate because I vividly remember having a crush on you for at least three before I could muster up the courage to confess. Which ended up working out for the best, you know,” he adds in a thoughtful tone, “but sometimes I’d get so nervous just thinking about it that I couldn’t sleep at all. Anyways, I’m really hungry now, so can we order something soon please?”

Maybe it’s the way he so nonchalantly wears his heart for you on his sleeve, or maybe it’s the way he looks at you as though you have strung the Milky Way itself together and made a gift of it to him. Maybe it’s the way you simply realize that you might not be able to live with yourself if you were to lose your boyfriend, ever. But for whatever reason it is, a thousand smiles bloom in your heart and you lean down to give Joochan a kiss that hopefully tastes like everything you cannot possibly put into words.

“Anything you want,” you whisper, and Joochan draws a heart on your knee in response.

enchanted.

You’re outside the auditorium again but in front of it, this time, and not behind. The post-concert hubbub has died down, mostly owing to the fact that much of the audience has left already whether it’s to a late congratulatory supper or down to the boardwalk where fireworks are scheduled to go off at midnight. The bouquet of lily of the valleys in your hand trembles slightly as you use your other hand to fumble around for your ringing phone.

“Hello?”

“You’re waiting outside, right?” Joochan asks.

“Yeah, I am.”

“See, Donghyun, I told you I was right about - wait. Wait! Don't move!”

And then you have less than two seconds to process exactly what is happening before your boyfriend catches you up in a running embrace that sends the world spinning in a flurry of snow and stars and kisses that Joochan plants all over your cheeks. He remains blissfully unaware that somewhere in the vicinity, Donghyun has started making gagging sounds at your very public display of affection, punctuated by Jaehyun’s giggling. (You pay them no mind.)

“Did you enjoy the concert?” he asks, fond expectation twinkling in his eyes.

You nod too much. “You were incredible,” you tell him honestly, and Joochan beams.

“I was, wasn’t I?” he says in a satisfied voice as he pulls you closer. “Guess all those hours of practice paid off.”

“It’s almost like that’s the whole point of practicing,” you tease.

“It’s lucky you’re cute and I’m hopelessly in love with you,” Joochan crinkles his nose in contrived distaste for your little jab before hugging you again so he can hear you whisper just how proud you are of him, right into his ear.

And the two of you stay like that for a little before you remember the gift you brought with you.

“For me?” And the look in his eyes reminds you of how he looked at you when you first told him that you loved him too - or maybe of every time you’ve told him that you love him too.

“Who else?”

He snaps up the bouquet, pressing it against his nose and inhaling deeply with a smile. "This is a nice surprise."

"They mean 'return to happiness'," you say, gently touching a little white bloom that looks like a star against the backdrop of Joochan's black school blazer. "Thought it was cute. And the florist was sold out of roses anyway."

Joochan laughs with the warmth of a thousand sunbeams and puts your hand in his so he can start gently tugging you away.

“But your violin”- you begin protesting.

“But nothing,” he shushes you as the school gets smaller and smaller behind you in the distance. “I don’t even want to see that thing for a week. Hey, and guess what - I found a secret place for just you and me so we can watch the fireworks without being pressed up against everyone else like sardines in a tin can.”

“You and I are going to watch the fireworks?” you echo, surprise colouring your voice.

Joochan’s exhale turns into a giggle. “Who else?” And you dig an elbow into his side, hiding a smile at his antics.

The two of you stroll down quiet streets and you lean into your boyfriend’s comforting warmth. Most shops are closed with the exception of some fast food chains and convenience stores, but you notice almost none of them now as Joochan picks up the pace, his excitement bleeding into the quiet song he sings that floats up in the air and is lost somewhere in the stars above.

“Here we are,” says Joochan proudly and he helps you up into the little gazebo at the top of the hill you hadn’t realized you were climbing. “Take this,” he adds as he tosses you a torch that brightly illuminates the space you’re in as soon as you switch it on. You turn to the rustling sounds on your left, finally seeing the wooden bench that Joochan is busy spreading a rug over.

“You planned this beforehand?” And there’s a note of wonder in your voice - the same kind that only Joochan ever seems to be able to evoke. “I thought we were going straight home.”

He gestures for you to sit next to him with a charming smile and you do so immediately. “Told you I can’t give up all the secrecy. Not yet.” Or, he thinks privately to himself, not when you look at him like that.

The golden light from the torch casts long shadows over the grass and gives Joochan’s face a nearly ethereal glow that reminds you of summer sunsets despite the cold. You slip into a soft and easy silence - one that comes from memories built upon memories, resulting in a code made up of gazes and touch that only the two of you will ever understand. And so when he squeezes your hand gently, you instantly open your arms for him to sink right into.

There’s only a few minutes left until midnight when you finally speak.

“Joochan,” you murmur.

“Mm?”

“You ever think about where we’ll be this time next year?”

Joochan shifts his posture slightly. “Often, actually. Especially when I go to sleep at night and think about tomorrow - then I’ll wonder if it’ll even remotely go the way I want it to.”

“And how do you usually want it to go?” you ask.

“Someone has a lot of questions today,” Joochan remarks with a droll look on his face that makes you laugh briefly before his expression sobers. “But usually I want it to go safely. You know? Everything in its proper place and things like that. And more importantly, I want to know all the time that I’ll be able to see you.”

You’re silent for a moment, looking out over the view of the city. If you squint, you can just make out the boardwalk by the beach and the crowds of people who have gathered there, young and old alike. “I’m scared sometimes.”

Joochan frowns. “Scared of what? I’ll fight it off for you,” and he waves a threatening fist at nothing in particular.

“The future, I guess. It sounds silly but… sometimes I don’t know if we’ll always be okay. Like this, the way things are right now. Whether it’s tomorrow or next year or even after that.” Your voice fades in volume until it’s nearly lost against the threads of your scarf, and Joochan’s heart breaks a little when he hears it: the genuine uncertainty and timid fear that seeps past the smile you give him in an effort to hide it.

“Why do you think we might not be okay?”

You look down at your feet, almost embarrassed by your own honesty. “Well, people… change, Joo. They move places, and have goals to achieve and dreams to chase down. And we’re not immune to that either.”

It’s Joochan’s turn to be silent for a bit as he mulls over your words before he straightens in your hold, turning his face towards you so he can affectionately bump his nose against yours. “You’re right,” he says in a voice that mirrors your sadness, “and it would be a lie to say I don’t think about the same things you do. But”- and he leans in to give you a quick kiss that’s shaped like a smile - “it’d also be a lie to say that every dream doesn’t feature you in it. Because every dream of mine that I’ve ever had places you centre stage.”

He kisses you again, a little longer - a little more wistfully.

“You see, the real problem here is that you have me perpetually thinking that I can’t do any of this without you,” he says simply. “Whether it’s late night phone calls or early morning messages; or maybe we’ll find ourselves having to book flights for each other, holding bags full of gifts that remind us of us. And maybe it’ll be hard and maybe I’ll wake up some days, knowing I won’t be able to see you. But that doesn’t mean we won’t be okay.”

You swallow and Joochan watches you carefully, the urgency in his eyes prompting him to lift your chin so you can see it too.

“Even if we change,” he continues in a whisper, hoping you will understand the heart in his words. “And we should. And we will, and we’ll still be okay. You believe me, don’t you? Seeing as I’m the most amazing and magical boy in the universe?”

Somewhere, midnight comes and goes and the fireworks start, dousing you and Joochan in bursts of coloured light.

“Of course I do,” you smile with eyes that glitter with tears of relief and he pulls you into a tight hug, so tight you can feel every movement of his rib cage as he breathes in and out.

For once, you do not feel that fear deep down that threatens to taint your time with the only boy you think you cannot live without. And so you unreservedly hold him in return, fingers running through his hair as he tells you that he loves you, over and over again.

up, up and away.

There had been a time during your childhood when your one greatest wish had been to go see the stars.

So your friend Joochan, in all his clumsy sincerity, had done his best to make you a rocket out of a box he’d found at home. He’d then brought it to your house after he’d finished it, blue marker staining his fingertips and glitter shaped like stars lost in his thick fringe.

The two of you had sat in it together and looked up at the moon, holding hands from childish innocence and recounting thrilling tales of adventures you’d never had. And before having to go home to bed that day, he’d made you a promise that present-day Joochan complains about not being able to fulfill.

“I know I said I’d take you to the stars,” Joochan sighs in displeasure from where he lies on your bed, right next to you, “but while your boyfriend is exceptionally talented, you do know I’m no astronaut, right?”

You hold his hand in response and look into his eyes that sparkle with mirth and deeper in, shine with a love that always gives you peace.

It may be that Joochan will never be able to keep his promise of taking you to space in a real, functioning rocket. But, as you drop a kiss on his mouth that soon widens into a brilliant smile, you can’t find it in yourself to really care.

After all, it’s hard to miss the stars when for you, they all start with Joochan and end with him.

if u liked this please consider dropping a like and reblogging with ur thoughts because feedback is!! always appreciated thank you!!!

#SCREAMS IT'S FINALLY DONE WITH I'M FINALLY FINISHED #golden child #golden child scenarios #golden child imagines #hong joochan #golden child hong joochan #golden child joochan #joochan #ju writes #gncd #golcha #im now off to go cry. or nap. both

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pradaksj · 3 years

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ghostin || part 2 (finale). (m.)

↳do not repost, translate, or claim as your own.

❧ summary ⟶ ❝Though I wish he were here instead. Don't want that living in your head, he just comes to visit me when I'm dreaming every now and then. ❞

❧ pairing⟶ seokjin/reader

❧ genre⟶ angst, angst, and angst … did i say angst? + a bit of fluff? friends to lovers.

❧ word count ⟶ 18,000+

❧ warnings ⟶ major character death! sad ending. descriptions of grieving process.

❧ part of the ⟶ thank u, next series

part 1 || part 2 (final)

“H-He did the right thing,” Jimin stutters, and you were sure he hardly even believed what was coming out of his own mouth,“What he did was selfless,”he declares.

“No he broke my grandma’s heart!” Jia scowls at Jimin, “What a jerk…” she huffs, having been fully engrossed in your story.

“No he’s right,” you say, shocking Jia, “It was an act of complete selflessness and in a sense, I applaud him for being able to do it because God knows I wouldn’t have been able to,” you sigh, “But ask yourself Jimin, in a week from now would you regret it?”

He looks as if he’s about to nod his no, until you add to your question, “How about a year? Maybe two? What about three? Just how sure are you about it?”

He remains silent.

“Tell you what Jimin,” you pause, “Only if you’re one hundred percent sure that you’d have absolutely no and I mean zero regrets about your decision then go ahead and leave,” you say, and he looks at you in a confusing manner, “You heard me, you can get up and leave right now, but,” you add emphasis to the word, “if you have even the slightest bit of a doubt, then all I ask of you is to hear this story till its end.”

Jimin, who by now had grabbed his jacket from the table in preparation to leave, now hesitated. Before you went up to him, he was so sure he wouldn’t regret it… but now after hearing a part of this story of yours… that confidence was long gone. Because if history truly was repeating itself, then he wanted to know the ending to this tale.

And so remaining in his seat, a look of determination covered his face.

“Okay then,” you mutter, ready to continue.

“That night I had cried in that diner for what felt like hours. It wasn’t until the waitress had to tell me that they’d be closing soon that I remembered I was far from Seoul, and so instead I went to my parents’ house and spent the night crying in my mom’s arms. I didn’t tell her right away, but I knew that she had known. Because honestly why else would I cry that hard.

Still though, I kept my mouth shut about it for the week that I slept over there, thinking deep down in my heart that he’d come back and tell me it was all a big mistake. Because if he did, I would’ve forgiven him. Maybe give him the silent treatment for a bit, hell even make him beg a bit, but I would’ve still forgiven him nonetheless.

When I went back to Seoul, I stayed in the same apartment. I paid the same expensive rent despite there only being one person living in there now. I stayed there because every afternoon I’d come back from work with a tiny feeling of hope that when I’d walk in, I’d find him in the kitchen like I always did after work, eating God knows what.

Sadly it never happened....

In the beginning I’d have no problem visiting my parents in their home, that continuous hopeful side in me thinking I’d be able to magically see Jin at his parent’s house.

In reality the only person I’d occasionally see was his mother, who greeted me the same way she always did, acting as if nothing happened. I’m sure Seokjin must’ve told her through a phone call, but yet like the amazing person she was, she never asked me any questions about it. Never uttered his name around me, instead asking about trivial things like my career and such.

With no update on where Seokjin was, or what he was doing, it was only a matter of time in which I’d realize that things just weren't going to play out like how I imagined them to. The charming prince in my story had truly left.

Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months, and soon months turned into years. I stopped visiting my parents house as much, and ultimately began to ask them if they could come out to Seoul to visit me rather than the other way around. As going home only served as a reminder for me of what I had lost. No… of what had left me.

And so after about two years of being single, I finally began to date people for the first time in my life, until soon enough I met someone by the name of Seojun. Though it wasn’t exactly love at first sight, it was definitely my first serious relationship since my break up with Seokjin, and slowly I really did fall in love.

I had successfully forgotten about Seokjin.

At least I thought I did ….

I guess this brings us to where our story begins to end….

1999.

“My loneliness is killing me,” you whisk the batter of the cake you were making, “and iiiii,” the shiny ring placed on your left ring finger shines even under the kitchen light, “I must confess I still believe,” you pause for a moment, “I still believe,” you horribly sing the ad-lib to Britney Spears’ chart topper of a song, “...Baby One More Time”.

Out of nowhere, the music on the radio is turned down, “I think that’s enough whisking y/n,” your mom chuckles, “any more and you’ll over mix it.”

Sighing, you follow your mom’s orders.

Today was Christmas, and like every other year, you were spending it at home with your parents. Your fiancé, Seojun, who was out of town to celebrate the holiday with his family as well, would arrive in two days. It was the best compromise the two of you could make, with the agreement that the roles would be reversed for the following year.

Taking out the baked bread she had put in an hour earlier, she immediately sets it down on the cooling rack placed on the table, “You’re going to have to take these to Mrs. Kim right now,” she mentions, while cutting the bread into slices.

Silently, you nod, ignoring the drop in your stomach that you’d feel whenever you had to interact with anything that forced you to remember him.

Despite you successfully managing to forget about him in terms of your daily life, Kim Seokjin just wasn’t someone you could ever completely forget. No matter how much you wanted to.

Wrapping parchment paper around the pieces, you help your mom tie the cute little pieces of red string around it, her belief of presentation adding to the flavor still ringing true to this day.

She inspects them one more time before placing them into the woven basket decorated with many other Christmas like things, along with the two gifts she bought for the twins, “Make sure you remind her about coming over tomorrow with the kids.”

Nodding, you place your coat on and begin to make your way out, “And tell her I said Merry Christmas!”

Making a motion with your hand that you heard her well, you close the door before she can add anything else.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Ah y/n,” Mrs. Kim greets, pulling you in for a hug, “Merry Christmas,” she says.

“Merry Christmas Mrs. Kim,” you smile at her, handing her the basket.

“Come in, come in,” she insists, and reluctantly you do, “I swear everytime I see you it feels like I’m only getting older,” she chuckles, “You don’t want something to drink? Maybe some wine—”

Laughing at her enthusiasm, you say “It’s fine Mrs. Kim,” while looking around the place. She had done an amazing job at decorating this year, not like she never did, “Where’s Mr. Kim?” you ask in curiosity.

“Ah he’s not coming till later, had some paperwork he wanted to finish up at work,” she explains, and you nod in understanding.

“Merry Christmas!” two voices simultaneously yell, and immediately you're met with a giant hug from the two twins.

Eyes widening at how big they had gotten, a smile covers your face, “Now I’m the one who feels like I’m getting old,” you comment, resulting in Mrs. Kim to laugh.

The two, who had to be at least 13 years old by now, were definitely going through the phases of puberty by now.

Ruffling their hair, you recall how baby-faced they once were, only imagining how different they’d look in a couple years time.

Minjun, who now sported braces, was the first to speak, “Woah, it feels like we haven’t seen you in forever!”

Yeonha adds on, “Yeah! You’ve gotten so….” she stops herself from continuing, but you know what she wants to say.

“Old,” you finish for her, pretending to be angry by placing your hands on your hips.

She awkwardly laughs, scratching her neck, a habit she must’ve picked up from her older brother, “Of course not!” she tries to play it off.

“I’m only 25, turning 26 in a couple of weeks if you really wanna be specific, but that doesn’t make me old little lady!” you scold.

She raises her hands to her defense, while Minjun comes to her rescue, “I think the word she was looking for was mature,” he says, “I mean you’re dressed like those office ladies we see on TV,” and you’re unsure if the comparison was supposed to be a good or bad thing, but nevertheless you change the topic, not wanting to fluster them any more than they already were.

“So any gifts you two are wanting this year?” and immediately Yeonha’s face lights up at the question.

Eagerly she nods her head, “I think Santa,” she sends her mom a mischievous look, “is getting me a new beeper this Christmas,”

Mrs. Kim playfully rolls her eyes.

“Santa heard from a little birdy that your old beeper wasn’t stolen, but got dropped in water,” Mrs. Kim comments, and immediately Yeonha’s face pales.

She turns to her twin brother and smacks him in shoulder, “Hey!” he yelps, “it wasn’t me!” he scowls, “It was probably Jin,” and even by a single utter of his name, you feel your heart begin to race, “I swear, it’s like you purposely forget what you tell him on the phone sometimes,” Minjun continues to ramble on, clearly upset by the accusation of being the snitch.

“I think I should get going,” you suddenly interrupt.

“Oh but you just got here,” Mrs. Kim says, failing to notice why you were suddenly feeling uncomfortable.

“Yeah!” Yeonha adds for support, “Jin’s supposed to get here any second now,” she wiggles her brows, even after all these years, still clearly unaware of the circumstances for your breakup.

Mrs. Kim looks surprised at Yeonha’s sudden announcement, “He was supposed to get here at 8,” she mumbles, a wave of guilt washing over her.

You send her a sympathetic look, knowing that it wasn’t her intention to put you in an uncomfortable position, “I’ll see you all soon, I promise,” you say, and Mrs. Kim now barely notices the ring on your finger. A subtle gasp escaping from her lips.

With your hand on the handle, you begin to open the door, “And Merry Christm—”

Stomach dropping at the sight in front of you, you feel as if a semi-truck had hit you, rendering you at a loss for words, “Y-Y/N?”

The first thing you notice about him is the length of his hair. It seemed as if he had grown it back into the mullet he first had when you met him, only this time it suited the mature aura he seemed to have.

Dressed in a black turtleneck, matched with black pants and dress shoes, you weren’t sure if you were in shock because he was right in front of you for the first time in nearly 3 years or because of how easy it was for him to get your heart racing.

It was weird really, despite his change in appearance, for some reason even now you were sure that he was still the same old Seokjin you’d always known.

Noting that you’d been staring at him in silence for quite a while, you finally manage to spew something out, “S-Seokjin,” is all you manage to stutter under your breath.

The twins share a troublesome look to one another, “Come on you two, Mom made Pajeon,” Yeonha says, pulling the two of you by your respective hands and forcing you both inside, “We can all eat and catch up,” she smiles wide and big, “I’m sure you two would love that,” she winks.

“I d-don’t,” you attempt to say something, but too flustered for your own good, you remain in shock.

Glancing at Mrs. Kim, you notice the contemplative look on her face, as if she was debating with herself in terms of what to do.

Making up her mind, she announces, “I’ll get the plates ready,” much to your dread.

Awkwardly, the two of you are seated across from another, the tension in the room only building as you wait for the food.

“Soooo……” Yeonha breaks the silence that fills the room, “What have you two been up to?” she glances at the two of you, waiting for a response.

Feeling a knot in your stomach, you continue to remain silent.

It also didn’t help that Seokjin’s gaze had remained on you this whole time. It was as if he was studying you, analyzing you the same way you had done to him. He wanted to see if you had changed.

Feigning a cough, he ultimately speaks. “Shouldn’t you already know Yeonha,” he questions her, “unless you haven’t been listening whenever we talk on the phone…”

Her face reddens, “Of course I have! You just went to Taiwan recently to consult for some business company and do those boring analyses you always do.”

He shakes his head, “Then there’s your answer,” he simply states.

“Business? So he really did end up giving up on his dream ….” you think to yourself, a bit saddened at the fact. A part of you always assumed that Jin had left you to be well on his way to stardom, that when he left you that night, he truly was being the selfish person he claimed he wanted to be.

“Y/N? …” the sound of your name being repeated brings you back to reality.

For a moment you look confused, “I said what about you?” and for the first time since your breakup, both you and Jin make eye contact, easily taking your breath away.

Face reddening, you take a while to respond, “I um—” flustering with your words , you continue, “I’m um— the head writer at the same company I worked at years ago,” you force an awkward smile on your face.

“Oh…” Jin says, “Do you like it over there?” and the question brings you back to that first car ride to the diner when you had just moved to town. His delivery of the question still as blunt as before.

“Um yeah …” you reply, fidgeting with your fingers.

He genuinely smiles, “I’m glad,” he says, “really I am,” he adds for extra comfort.

And before you could say thank you, his mother enters the dining room, the plate of Pajeon in her hand, along with other side dishes, “Here you kids go,” she places the things on the table, “Make sure you eat it while it’s hot,” she warns before making her way back into the kitchen.

It’s only until you grab the piece of Pajeon with your chopsticks that he finally notices it.

He finally notices the shiny diamond ring you sport on your left index finger.

“You’re engaged,” he suddenly announces says , face unreadable.

As if the room wasn’t awkward enough….

Gulping, you nod, “Yeah,” you exhale, “it happened a couple of months ago,” you add.

The two of you stare at each other in silence, “I’m happy for you,” he gives you a small smile. Silently patting his mouth with a napkin, he gets up from his seat, “Well I just came back from a pretty long flight so I’m pretty tired, so I think I’m gonna head upstairs,” he avoids eye contact for a moment, a sign that he was lying, “Jet lag you know?” he awkwardly laughs, “But it was nice seeing you y/n…”

Getting up as well, you decide that it was best you left as well.

“Merry Christmas y/n,” he says one final time before heading up stairs.

“Merry Christmas to you too Seokjin,” you whisper under your breath.

“Since our breakup three years before, Seokjin had never once gone back home for Christmas, which was why I felt so sure that he wouldn’t that year, but of course I was wrong. So when I told my mom she immediately began to panic for me, remembering that she invited Mrs. Kim to come over the next day, and well of course she didn’t want to be rude and rescind her invitation.

And so I told my mom that it was fine. Whether Seokjin decided he wanted to come over or not, I’d be just fine. At least that’s what I tried convincing myself of…”

“Seokjin, we’re going to be headed our way now,” Mrs. Kim yells over the blasting music. God, did Jin feel like a teenager again. “If you change your mind well … we’ll be right next door!”

He hears her footsteps going down the stairs, signalling that she was gone.

Engaged …. You were really engaged ….

The image of the ring on your finger was the only thing that remained in his mind the night before, and it was what was haunting him even now.

He wasn’t sure what came over him, you were happy, you had found love in someone else just like he’d hoped for years ago.

He should’ve been ecstatic for you … but he wasn’t.

Several questions pondered in his mind once he saw it. Who was the guy? How did you meet? When were you sure you loved him? Was he treating you better than he ever did? Could he give you the future you always wanted? Just how happy were you?

Sighing, he gets up from bed, not wanting to sulk for any longer.

He had to do something, anything, for the meanwhile that he was back home to get his mind off of this. And so grabbing his jacket, he prepares to leave, unsure of just how long he could be in the same proximity as you without doing something he’d regret.

The sounds of crickets chirping fills the air, a wine glass in your hand as you look at the stars above in the sky from the comfort of your front porch.

Inside, your parents were talking about the most mundane of things with Jin’s parents, while the kids were busy preoccupying themselves playing with their newly gifted Nintendo 64. And after getting tired of constantly losing to them, here you were, taking a break from the chaos going on inside.

Seojun was arriving tomorrow, from there you’d only be here for the remainder of the weekend and then back home to your apartment in Seoul, as if nothing ever happened. Ever since yesterday, something was eating at you. You just weren’t sure what. And the only thing you could look at to ease your anxiousness was the ring on your finger, a solid reminder that you had a future to look forward to and that the past was buried six feet under.

Taking a gulp of the drink in your hand, you mentally curse Jin. Why did he have to return? Out of all years, this had to be the one he chose to magically come back in? “Damn you Seok—”

“Y/N?” you look up to see the person you were just damning, car keys in hand. It looked as if he was originally planning on going somewhere, but must’ve walked over here once he saw you sitting here by yourself.

“Seokjin,” you say, a mixture of both shock and displeasure evident in your voice.

Relief washes over him when hearing your response because unbeknownst to you, from afar you looked as if you were completely knocked out, a result of the position you were in while you were deeply thinking. Immediately he eyes the wine glass in front of you, everything beginning to make sense.

“You looked um—” shaking his head, he disregards what he was going to say, “Sorry I’ll just get going.”

And maybe it was the wine talking, but rather than keep quiet and watch him leave, you call out to him, “You can—” you hesitate to continue, “You can sit here if you want,” you say, “that’s only if you want to of course, I’m not forcing you to do anything you don’t want to because I’m not exactly physically capable of doing that and—”

Jin interrupts your tipsy rambling by sitting at an appropriate distance from you, a soft chuckle escaping from his lips, “You always did like getting drunk off wine,” he whispers under his breath, a small smile on his lips.

For a while, the two of you remain in silence, simply staring at the view above. That was of course until you asked him a simple question, “Where were you going?” you mumble.

Bringing his attention towards you, his eyes soften, “Just wanted some fresh air,” he simply answers, being completely truthful.

Silently you nod, “Mm that’s good,” you say, your cheeks a soft tinge of red because of the wine.

“So…”

“So…” you mimic him, causing him to playfully roll his eyes.

“How have you been?” he attempts to break the ice, “I realized I didn’t really ask you that yesterday…”

It was funny really, the two of you truly had become strangers in a sense, just like how he said you two would be that night. But in a way, it also made things more interesting, it was as if he was getting the chance to know you for the second time in his life.

“I’ve been..” you hesitate to find the right word, ultimately deciding on the simplest one you knew, “I’ve been good,” you say, “I’m doing something I love, have an apartment I completely adore, and I found someone—” you stop yourself from continuing.

“You found someone you love?” he says for you, and silently you nod, remaining silent for a moment.

“Why did you—” you pause before continuing, “Why did you become a businessman?” you ask, the question having been on your mind since the day before.

Casually, he shrugs, “There was no future in the world of entertainment for me y/n,” he states, “so I went back to college, worked my ass off, and got a degree in financial accounting. From there the job offers came pretty easily and now I’m a traveling business analyst.”

“Did you do it because of your da—”

He’s quick to nod his head no, “I did it for—,” and at the last second he changes what he was originally going to say, “I did it for myself,” and you feel yourself getting angry.

“But it wasn’t what you dreamed of, it wasn’t something you loved!” you unintentionally shout.

“Hey hey hey,” he places a hand on your shoulder, “any louder and the whole neighborhood will hear you,” he attempts to joke around, and you feel your face get redder than it already was.

Letting go of your shoulder, he looks back up to the stars, his voice becoming soft, “The night I told you about wanting to seriously pursue becoming a director, you told me that if I failed, the real question would be if I’d be able to accept it…” your gaze falls on him while he continues to look up into the sky, “At first I wasn’t able to… I was too ashamed to admit to failure, but—” he smiles, “when I finally did, it almost felt liberating. And so I realized sometimes you have to give up the things you love, for a better shot at a future.”

Bullshit.

Complete bullshit.

That’s what you want to say to him.

And so you do.

“That’s complete utter bullshit Seokjin,” you mutter, taking a sip of your drink, “because if it isn’t then that makes you a selfish person, and you’re the farthest thing from selfish. So that’s just bullshit and you know it.”

He laughs, “It is, isn't it?”

Not expecting him to agree, you look at him in shock before grouchily looking away, focusing your gaze on anything but him.

Failing to hear the brief sharp hissing sound of his zipper being pulled down, you suddenly feel the placement of his sweater over your shoulders. You furrow your brows in confusion, “You’re shivering like a chihuahua,” he explains, scratching his neck like he always did whenever he was nervous.

Crossing your arms, you attempt to hide your face which you were sure by now was as red as a tomato. What the hell were you doing? Sitting here talking to your ex boyfriend of 6 years while your fianceé was probably well on his way here… it was wrong, it was inappropriate. So then if you knew that then why did it feel so … you brush the thought off before you could complete it.

“Because he was your friend first and as much as you hate to admit it, he'll always mean something to you…” you tell yourself, feeling guilty at the thought.

“Y/N?” he says your name, bringing you back to reality.

You look at him, wondering why he said your name out of the blue.

“Do you—” it was now his turn to hesitate, “Do you hate me?” he finally asks, and immediately your mind says no. You could never hate him, even if you wanted to.

He stares at you, anxiously waiting for a response.

“No I don’t.” you simply say, not bothering to elaborate any further, but for Jin that was enough. It was enough to tell him that you still …

“Seojun…” you whisper under your breath, a car pulling into the driveway of your house, a look of surprise on your face. Immediately you push off the jacket from your shoulders, catching Seokjin by surprise.

“So this is who he is…” Jin thinks to himself, watching the handsome man come out of the car, a grin on his face as he locks eyes with you.

Walking towards him, Jin watches as you lovingly greet the man with a kiss to the cheek, the two of you then walking towards him. “Seojun this is Seokjin, his parents are the neighbors,” Seojun offers his hand out, a polite smile on his face, “Seokjin this is Seojun, my fianceé,” the two shake hands. Your past and present finally meeting.

“Seokjin which means to be a great treasure,” Seojun attempts to make small conversation.

“He’s a linguist,” you explain, awkwardly chuckling, noting the fake smile on Seokjin’s face.

“Mm I see,” he mumbles, bitterness in his voice.

“I thought you weren’t coming till tomorrow?” you ask your fianceé, still surprised by his sudden appearance.

He shrugs, “What can I say, I got bored,” he laughs, “So I said my goodbyes early, and decided why not come here to surprise you,” he kisses your forehead, and Jin feels the green eyed monster making its way out.

“Well I should get going,” Jin states.

“You sure?” you widen your eyes at Seojun’s sudden question, “I mean I love your dad y/n but it’d be nice to have someone else to talk to,” he chuckles, “and well I definitely wanna hear about what y/n was like as a teenager from someone who isn’t one of her parents.”

You and Jin both make awkward eye contact, unsure of what to say. “Maybe some other time,” Jin manages to say, “I have to um…” he flusters, “um..”

“Finish typing up that business report you were talking about,” you make an excuse for him.

He snaps his fingers, pretending that that was what he was trying to say, “Mmhmm yeah!” he scratches his neck, “My job just doesn’t want me resting, not even for the holidays, you know how it is...” he adds on, coming for the Actor of the Year award at next year's Oscars.

Seojun surprisingly believes it, “Damn, that’s too bad,” he scratches his chin, a sign that he was thinking of something, “Well are you coming to our engagement party? Maybe we can talk then,” he says, and if your eyes weren’t already wide enough, by now they were well on their way to falling onto the floor. Seojun was just too kind for his own good.

Jin practically chokes on his own spit, “I um—”

Realizing that you probably forgot to invite him, Seojun interrupts before Jin could feel any more embarrassed, “January 12, at the Lotte Hotel in Seoul, 6PM sharp.”

Feeling his face get red, Seokjin nods, “Yeah I’ll be there,” he forces a laugh.

Patting his shoulder, Seojun smiles, “I look forward to talking to you then,” he says, beginning to make his way inside, with you following closely behind, a guilt-ridden look on your face.

Now by himself, Jin silently cursed to himself. Damn him! Seojun wasn’t at all the asshole Seokjin made him out to be in his head. But damn did he want him to be one…. then it’d be much easier to hate the man, and it’d make him much less guilty for what he was planning to do….

“After that night, I’d go to sleep scared. Not because I was in danger in anything, but because I was scared about the feelings I’d repressed for so long now starting to return. I was scared of looking back…”

Patting down your black fitted cocktail dress, you look at yourself in the mirror for a final time, “Everything is going to be just fine,” you whisper to yourself, having cooped yourself in the ladies restroom for quite some time now.

You couldn’t help it, the moment you saw the twins walk in with Jin’s mother, you knew it was only a matter of time before Jin walked in.

Ever since that Christmas weekend, his sudden return into your life had been eating you alive. You had gotten over him, you were sure of it. No … you are over him. Point. Blank.

This ring you wore on your finger signified that you were over him, that there was a different future to look forward to now. That whatever was meant to be in the past was no longer an option for you now. Right?

The door suddenly opens, “Y/N, there you are!” your mom comes in with an upset look on her face, “the host of the party can’t just disappear whenever she wants to,” she scolds.

Staring at her with a doe eyed look, you want to tell her everything. Everything that you were currently feeling, every question, every doubt that was crossing your mind since Jin’s return. But instead you just look away, making your way out.

“Taiwan huh? I’ve always wanted to visit there,” you hear your future brother-in-law, Hoseok, say.

He, along with Seojun, Seokjin, and some other guests were currently discussing God knows what in a social circle.

“Y/N,” Seojun calls out to you, a grin on his face.

Immediately you make eye contact with Jin, feeling your every movement being scrutinized under his gaze.

Sucking it up, you plaster a smile onto your face, reminding yourself that in a couple of hours you’d be in bed, with the only other times you’d have to see Jin being your rehearsal dinner, which was the night before the wedding, and the wedding day itself. And even then he would just have to be another face in the crowd of guests.

Seojun places a kiss to your cheek, “Jin was just talking about his adventures in Taiwan, I’m thinking it might be a good destination for our honeymoon,” he says with genuine excitement in his tone. Oh how naive he was…

“Oh…” is all you can say, struggling to keep the smile on your face, “um yeah, I guess that would be a nice place to go, wouldn’t it?” you attempt to stay engaged with the conversation, and it seemed as if it was enough to fool Seojun because soon he was talking about something else with another guest.

But clearly it wasn’t enough to fool Jin, as he currently had his gaze fixed on you, occasionally taking a sip out of the glass of whiskey in his hand.

“I think I’m gonna go out and get a breath of fresh air,” you whisper to Seojun’s ear, and silently he nods, distracted by the conversation he was currently having.

Going out, you make sure not to be seen by your mother, knowing that she’d only scold you again for trying to leave. And so like the cowardly person you were, all you could do was hide and wait in the hotel’s little garden, sitting on the stone bench, the smell of the flowers somewhat relaxing you.

God, did you just want this night to be over already…

“You shouldn’t have come here,” you suddenly say, feeling the presence of someone behind you, but you knew exactly who it was.

“You looked sad,” you hear Jin say, genuine concern in his voice.

You remain silent.

Sighing, he sits next to you, the moonlight framing his face in such a way that he almost looks ethereal. “Originally I wasn’t going to,” he says, understanding the double meaning to your words, for you meant that he shouldn’t have came to this event at all, “But I needed to see it with my own eyes, confirm that it wasn’t just some—”

“What? Some joke?” you scoff, “Some wretched attempt at getting over you…”

Now it was his turn to remain silent.

You shake your head, “3 years Seokjin,” you say, “3 years you were gone and you just had to come back the year I get engaged,” you bitterly chuckle, wishing you had a drink in your hand, “funny how life works huh?”

Silently he nods, agreeing with you, “I guess it was just a natural sense,” he attempts to joke around, but you remain silent, “I’m sorry,” he randomly says and you look at him confused, “For coming back,” he elaborates on the apology, “if I’d known beforehand I wouldn’t have come back to town for both of our sakes,” he chuckles, being completely honest.

“Hand me that,” you motion to the drink in his hand, and without question he does. Taking a giant gulp, you then finally say something, “I’m getting married in 6 months Seokjin,” you remind him of your future fate, “it was going to happen before you came back, and it’s happening even after,” you turn to face him, wanting to make sure he understood that at this very moment you were placing a line between you two, one that you hoped was unbreakable.

He returns to stare, “I know y/n,” he simply responds.

“Do you?” your face twists into a frown, “Because I know you Seokjin and something in my gut is telling me that—”

“Y/N I know,” he repeats, “but just answer one thing for me…” he pauses, contemplating on whether to continue but does so anyway, “Do you really love him?”

And just as you’re about to respond, he interrupts, “But I mean genuinely y/n, enough where you really can picture the rest of your life with him with absolutely no regrets, no what if’s…” he adds.

Could you? You ask yourself. Could you really imagine being with Seojun with no regrets…..

To Jin, your silence was enough of an answer, but before he could get a word in, a voice suddenly interrupts, “Y/N!” Seojun calls out, “There you are,” he exhales a relieved sigh, “We’re about to cut the cake,” he glances at Jin, nodding as a way of saying hello.

“Oh right ...” you get up from the bench, a black cloud hanging over your head, “I’ll see you at the wedding Seokjin,” you look at Jin a final time, the statement ultimately acting as your answer.

“The six months went by in the blink of an eye, but each and every night when I went to bed, it ate me alive.

The lies I was telling my fianceé, the lies I was telling myself, everything was just becoming too much.

And as the date loomed closer and closer, it was only getting worse. And so the night before the rehearsal dinner I finally came clean…”

Staring up at the ceiling of your bedroom, you’d become accustomed to the sleepless nights for the last six months, faint lines beginning to form under your eyes.

In less than 48 hours you’d be a married woman, welcoming a future you’d always wanted. So then why was it now, you still couldn’t get a wink of sleep.

“Wedding jitters?” you hear Seojun whisper beside you, and you find yourself shocked that he was still awake. Usually he was quick to fall asleep, a deep sleeper as well, so to find him awake was pretty unusual.

You remain silent, hoping he’d just fall asleep, but like the caring person he was, he softly nudges you despite knowing that you were ignoring him, “Seojun, go to sleep, it’s late,” you mumble in the darkness, reminding you of a memory from long ago.

“Something’s bothering you,” he says, now turning to face you, and he nudges you a second time, “You know you can tell me anything…” he adds, wanting to reassure you.

This was your chance, your chance to tell him everything before it was too late. It was speak now or forever hold your peace, and so sighing, you position yourself to sit up, turning on the bedside lamp.

“Seojun I haven’t been completely honest with you…” you announce, now avoiding eye contact. “And well you deserve to know the truth because you’re an amazing person who deserves nothing but the bes—”

“Y/N,” he interrupts you, a soft laugh emitting from his lips, “I know Seokjin is your ex, and I know he still loves you,” he drops the bombshell of news on you, and you could’ve sworn you felt your jaw hit the floor.

“W-wait w-w-what?” you manage to breathe out, and it only makes him laugh again.

He now sits up, nodding his head, “I knew the moment you introduced his parents as the neighbors rather than calling him an old friend,” he chuckles, “you were trying to make it seem a little too platonic,” your face squirms, “and well you’re not exactly the best liar,” he pauses, “Plus your mom isn’t exactly a quiet speaker so when I heard her rambling to your dad about the situation, I sorta just knew.”

“T-then why didn’t you call me out on it?” you immediately ask, but before he could respond, you continue to ramble, “God, I’m so sorry Seojun,” tears well up in your eyes, “I love you, I really do,” you say, completely truthful, “but I-I-I—” you struggle to continue.

“But you also love him,” he completes for you, a look of understanding on his face.

Immediately you nod your head no, “No I don’t it’s just—”

“Y/N it’s fine,” he says, grabbing your hand, but you still refuse to admit it.

“No Seojun, you don’t get it. I love you, I do, more than you ever know and I’m ready to start our future together but—” you look away, “as much as I hate to admit it I’m always going to feel something for him because he was my first love,” you whisper the last part, “but you’re my last,” you reaffirm.

Seojun smiles sadly before sighing, “I know, which is why I sorta just let it be that night at the engagement party because well... I figured that if you were able to make it to the aisle without turning back it meant that you truly did love me,” he pauses, “Because even now you have the choice to turn back y/n, you do understand that right? I won’t be mad, I won’t be too sad, and I won’t hate you for it because I understand,” he says and you feel a teardrop fall from your eye, “that night I overheard him ask you if you really loved me and though you didn’t immediately say yes, you also didn’t flat out say no. And so it seems you’re at a crossroad… ” he whispers.

“Seojun…”

He squeezes your hand, “When you step on that aisle then I’ll have no doubt that you’ve completely unregrettably chosen me,” he says, “and if you don’t then I’ll know you were just never meant to be mine,” he smiles softly.

A silence follows.

“Tomorrow he’s going to the rehearsal dinner, and I’m assuming it’ll act as his hail mary. His final attempt at getting you back,” he suddenly says, “and so it’ll be your time to make a decision … a future with me or a look back at the past with Seokjin,” and he kisses your cheek, his way of saying goodnight before making himself comfortable in bed again, quickly falling asleep, and leaving you in the same sleepless state you were already in before.

He was right, knowing Seokjin tomorrow he was going to do something because you were 100% sure that he would never grow the balls to object to the matrimony in front of everyone. And so as the clock kept ticking, it was only up to you to decide your future.

“The next night came quicker than expected. After all of the guest greetings and pretentious conversations I had to make, it was time for the guests to make a toast. By then I had already made a decision in my mind, I just didn’t expect everything to happen the way it did….

For over the last 50 years I’ve constantly looked back at that night and have asked myself where it went wrong, what could’ve gone differently, what if this, and what if that… as it was never meant to escalate to the point it reached...

But it did … and as much I would love to go back in time and change everything, I can’t. And that’s just something I’ve had to accept, no matter how much it hurts…”

Clink. Clink. Clink.

You eye Jin as he gets up from his seat, his glass of sparkling water in his hand.

You’d been avoiding him like the plague the whole night, just wanting to get to the wedding day as soon as possible.

You attempt to remain calm.

He wouldn’t do it, not here in front of everyone. If he really cared for you like you believed him to, then he wouldn’t.

You knew Jin, and he was the kind of person to pull you to the side or find you alone like at the night of the engagement party in order to tell you something. Never would he stoop so low to do something like this…

Feigning a cough, he speaks, “I want to make this as quick as possible, don’t want to take too much of everyone’s time,” Jin’s mother glances at yours, the two of them unsure of what was going on, “So where do I begin…” Seojun looks at you with an impassive expression, your conversation from the night before coming to fruition, “Ahh I know,” Jin snaps his fingers, “So for anyone who doesn’t know, I actually dated y/n first…”

“Seokjin,” his mother attempts to stop him by harshly whispering his name, but he relents.

“We dated for about 6 years actually, to a point where we sure that we’d spend the rest of our lives together,” he scoffs, “but then I ruined that by breaking up with her,” he reminds you and everyone else around you of the fateful night, “which I know is shitty of me to realize just now how much of a mistake it was. But I mean what are the chances that I come back the year you’re about to get engaged, I mean that has to mean something right?” he rambles, almost as if talking to himself, convincing himself that this was the right thing to do.

Everyone sits in shock of the words spewing out of his mouth, certain that this was only something that happened in movies, never imagining that it could actually happen in real life, “I’m only saying this now because I realize it’d be even more of a dick move of me to object in front of everyone,” he chuckles to himself, “And so I’m doing this now, in front of everyone y/n…” he locks eyes with you, “I’m sorry,” he whispers, “but this is our last chance, a final shot at the future you’ve always wanted... with me.”

The silence in the room was deafening.

Slowly you get up, a heavy feeling weighing down your chest as you clear your throat before speaking, “I know this is a lot to ask but if everyone can get up and momentarily leave the room, I’d really appreciate it,” you announce, “I’d like to talk to my friend privately for a moment,” you look down to Seojun who nods understandingly.

Without question, Seojun begins to lead everyone out, until ultimately it was only you and Seokjin standing by yourselves, a scene all too familiar to you.

“Y/N…” he begins, but you’re quick to cut him off, your hand placed on your temple.

“Why?” your voice breaks, any emotion you’d been withholding beginning to unravel, “Just why?” is all you’re able to ask.

“Because you don’t love him y/n,” he whispers loud enough for you to hear, and it’s at hearing that, that you feel a shift in mood.

“But I do Seokjin!” you yell, seeing nothing but red now.

Silence momentarily lingers in the air, until you scoff.

“What were you thinking, Seokjin? That you could just come back into my life and I’d welcome you back with open arms?” you ask, tears welling up in your eyes, threatening to fall with every word you got out.

He shakes his head, “No but—” he hesitates, walking closer to you, “what are the chances y/n? What are the chances I come back to town the year you’re getting married—”

“The only reason I’m getting married to someone else is because you left me!” you interrupt him, reminding him of the choice he made years ago.

He looks away, “You don’t get it y/n,” he mumbles under his breath, beginning to grow frustrated.

“What’s there not to get Seokjin?” you push at him, now yelling, “If I hadn’t gone looking for you that night, I would’ve been left with nothing but a goddamn note—”

“I was doing what was best for you!” he yells in return.

“For me?” your voice shakes, “Leaving me at a diner in the middle of the goddamn night with some poor excuse wasn’t the best for me! Leaving me to cry in bed, by myself, for almost 2 years straight wasn’t the best for me! Leaving me, not knowing where the hell you were for almost 3 years wasn’t the best for me!” you finally explode, years and years of anger now revealing itself.

“Everything I had felt, the sadness, the anger, the frustration, everything … was finally being released…”

“I begged for you that night Seokjin, begged!” you emphasize, the tears that had been building up, now falling hysterically.

“I was just trying to do what was best for you,” he says, completely and wholeheartedly honest, because it was true. At the time he really was doing it all for you, and you understood that now, truly you did.

“But I just couldn’t let it go… I was still hurt, and that hurt was what was holding me back. That hurt was what was preventing me from walking out the back door with him, ready to finally start that future with him I always wanted…”

“I didn’t need you to do anything for me!” you yell, “I was a grown woman Seokjin! Capable of making my own decisions, just like I am now!” your heartbeat slows down, “I gave you my heart that night Jin!” your voice cracks, not only feeling your heart break for the second time in your life, but all by the same person, “It was you who left me! Not me, you!”

“Because I didn’t want to hold you back y/n,” his voice breaks, “Because at the time I couldn’t give you the things you wanted.”

“And I told you I didn’t care!” you cry out, “Because for me all that mattered was being by your side…” a silence follows, “You were my first love Seokjin,” you breathe out, “the first boy to make me feel completely and unconditionally loved and so for that I thank you,” you say, “I really do…” you grab his hand, “but this—” you struggle to say the words.

“But this is the end,” a tear falls down from his eye, and you can only stare at him in sadness.

“I’m choosing Seojun, completely and unregrettably,” you whisper, placing a final soft kiss to his cheek, “I’m sorry,” I’m sorry for being unable to let go, is what you want to say.

“So then I should go,” he quietly says, and silently you nod, letting go of his hand in the process.

And he watches you as you walk away, “Y/N,” he says your name for a final time and you turn around, sadness still etched in your face.

There’s a brief silence before he continues.

“Live—” he hesitates, “Live a life you’ll be proud of,” he reminds you, and to that you send him a small smile. A chapter in your life coming to its end.

“And so the next day was the wedding....”

“How are you feeling y/n?” your mom comes up to you from behind, practically feeling just as nervous as you were.

You pat down your dress, sighing in the process. Ever since last night, there was a churning feeling in your stomach that had been bothering you, but you reasoned with yourself that it must’ve been due to the events of the night prior, “Nervous but I should be good to go,” you respond, and your mom gives you a smile of reassurance.

Curious to see how many guests had arrived already, you look out the window of the room you were in, which gave a perfect view of the venue. Scanning across, it seemed like everyone was here except…

“Where’s Mrs. Kim?” you ask, “and the twins?”

After last night’s events, Mrs. Kim had gone up to you frantically apologizing for her son’s behavior, rambling about understanding if you didn’t want her at the wedding anymore, but you were quick to tell her that it was fine. That just because Jin did what he did, didn’t mean you didn’t want her attending. Which was why now seeing her seat empty along with the twins’, you were not only confused but a little hurt.

“Maybe they’re stuck in traffic,” she reasons, “they did leave quite late,” she adds.

Deciding it was best not to dwell on it too much, you push it to the back of your mind, “Let’s get this show on the road,” you ultimately say, ready to get married.

“You have to remember that in the early 2000’s, not everyone had mobile phones yet because of how expensive they were. People were still used to calling a house phone by memory and crossing their fingers that you’d pick up. You couldn’t just send a text message to absolutely anyone whenever something of importance happened…” you explain, your voice beginning to shake, “you couldn’t inform someone of an emergency until God knows when,” a tear falls from your eye, “Because if you could, then—” you let out a heart wrenching sob.

“Grandma?” Jia says in concern.

“Then I would’ve never gone through with that wedding…”

Seokjin was tired, no … he was exhausted.

God, was he such an idiot. What the hell was he thinking doing that? You were right, did he really think he could just waltz back into your life and everything would just go back what it once was? And to see you cry like that only made him realize even more of what a complete selfish asshole he was.

But at least, you both found closure right? That was all that—

The sound of Seokjin’s car engine making an ugly noise breaks him away from his thoughts. Almost immediately, he pulls over to the side of the road, purposely stopping near a payphone for reference.

Grabbing the flashlight from his compartment box, he gets out of the car and lifts up the hood of the car.

“Hmm...” he hums, nothing seemed wrong. It was probably just his car’s way of saying that it needed to be replaced by a newer model soon.

He smiles, tapping the hood once he placed it back down. He’s had this thing since his first year in college, it being by his side almost as long as you had been, if not more.

Yawning, he gets back in the car, the need to fall asleep becoming a little too overwhelming. Placing the key back in the keyhole, he turns it in order to turn on the ignition, but to his surprise the car refuses to start, “Come on LadyBug,” he says, the name of the car being something you and him both made up on a drunken whim, it sticking ever since.

Deciding to be stubborn tonight, LadyBug relents.

Sighing he grabs his Nokia phone from the glove compartment, the giant words of “NO SIGNAL” only making him sigh more. He just wanted to go home and sleep already.

Getting out of the car once more, he walks towards the phone booth, inserts a quarter, and dials the number of his parent’s house phone. As much as he hated to ask for help, desperate times called for desperate measures, and his dad should be home.

“You have reached the voicemail box of 45x-7x8-87xx, please leave a message after the beep. Beeeeeep,” the automated voice instructs.

Seokjin groans, maybe his dad was asleep, “Hey dad, I’m sorta stranded out here with a car that doesn’t seem to want to start and well … I think Mom is still at the rehearsal dinner with the twins,” Seokjin begins to ramble, “She’s probably on her way back home, but you know her,” he chuckles, scratching his neck, “she still refuses to get a mobile phone so there’s really no way of calling her till she gets home,” despite his father not being on the line, he still felt awkward asking him for a favor, “I’m on interstate 6, you know … the usual route to get from Gwacheon to Seoul. Well, I’m gonna try calling someone else just in case you’re asleep… bye,” he hangs up the phone, disappointed that he was going to be stuck here longer than he hoped for.

Who else could he call, hmmm.

Ah! Yoongi! Hell maybe even Taehyung or Namjoon! Though it’d been a while since he last saw them, he was sure they’d be willing to do him the favor.

Quickly dialing their numbers one after another, he’s met with the same automated message of, “We’re sorry, you have reached a number that has been disconnected or is no longer in service. If you feel you have reached this recording in error, please check your number and try your call again.”

“Damn, they probably changed numbers,” Seokjin mumbles to himself, unsure of what to do.

Glancing at the time in his watch, he realizes just how late it was. Who else could he call….

The image of you appears in his mind, but he’s quick to shake his head no. He was the last person who could call to ask for a favor, but damn was your number the only number he had left in his memory.

And it wasn’t like he could sleep in his car for the night, that was only an invitation to get robbed on the side of the road.

He needed some kind of help, and quickly at that. And the chances that you were already home were pretty high, never being much of a partier to begin with.

“Fuck it,” he mutters, promising himself that this would be the last time he ever asked you for anything. He could only hope that you still lived in the same apartment….

“We should really start heading back home,” you whisper to Seojun’s ear, the rehearsal dinner having only awkwardly resumed about an hour or two ago. Things were barely beginning to get comfortable again among the guests, not like you could really blame them, they had just witnessed something that looked like it came out of a movie.

“Y/N,” he chuckles, “Have some fun,” he says, as this was probably your 10th time saying this in the last hour, “You deserve it,” he tries to convince you, your whole mood having gone sour since the whole mishap.

Sighing, you look away shyly, “I don’t know Seojun—”

“Come onnnn,” he teases, gently pulling you into a hug, “Just one more hour.”

You roll your eyes, “Hm fine,” you say, easily convinced, “but only one,” you reaffirm.

He nods, “only one.”

“Hello, we are currently either sleeping or—Jin I’m making the message for the voicemail thingy majiggy—” the sound of a high pitched laugh in the background is heard, and Jin remembers how he had been poking fun at you for using your “I mean business” voice, “as I was saying, we are currently either sleeping or at work! Sorry we couldn’t reach your call at this time, but please please please leave a message after the beep and we’ll make sure to get back to you as soon as we can! You ready? Beeeeeep!”

Jin laughs at how silly you sounded, surprised that you hadn’t changed the message in the last 3 years. It probably meant you had no reason to, considering it was pretty rare that you didn’t pick up a phone.

Meaning maybe you weren’t picking up on purpose….

Jin shakes his head, reminding himself that he was calling on a payphone and that there was no way you could see it was him. It was just self doubt getting to him.

“Hey y/n it’s me um Seokjin,” he awkwardly laughs, “I know I don’t really deserve to be asking you for a favor right now, but um,” he exhales a deep breath, “I’m sorta stranded right now and well I tried calling everyone else I could think of at the top of my head, I swear, but no one picks up,” he wants to make sure you understand that you really were his last option, “I promise that after this it’ll be the last time you see or hear of me, but I’m just really tired and well I just wanna go home and sleep. So if you can, I’ll be on interstate 6 with LadyBug,” he chuckles, “Um …” he’s unsure of how to end the voicemail, “I’ll see you soon then… bye ….”

Sighing, he walks back to his car, deciding he was going to try one more time before officially giving up. Twisting the key, he could only cross his fingers that it’d start up.

Vrooom.

A toothy grin appears on Jin’s face as he childishly celebrates, “Oh thank God,” he whispers to himself, rubbing his eyes and preparing himself for the drive ahead.

“Y/N,” your mom calls out to you from the dance floor, a shock ridden expression on her face, “Y/N!” she yells again, this time grabbing your attention.

“What is it mom?” you ask, unaware of the severity of what she was about to tell you.

“We need to go outside, I—” she seems out of breath, “I need to tell you something,” her voice shakes, and an immediate concern covers your face.

“Right now?” you ask, confused as to what could be so important that she needed to tell you at this very moment, in the middle of your wedding reception.

Silently she nods, leading you outside, her hand intertwined with yours. Your dad, with a solemn expression on his face, follows not too far behind.

“Something’s happened y/n…” she begins, voice wavering, “It’s about Seokjin…”

Inaudible words are spoken.

And soon you fall to the ground, the shock paralyzing you in such a way that you were sure this had to be some cruel nightmare, the sound of silent muffled sobs escaping your lips and filling the air.

A tragic story coming to its end.

“He died that night driving,” you hauntingly say, “A car had swerved into the opposite lane, and he was just too tired,” your voice shakes, “He didn’t see it in time,” tears fall down your eyes, “He died that night thinking I didn’t love him when in reality I loved him more than ever before. I was just too prideful to admit it,” you wipe the tears from your cheeks.

Jimin and Jia were at a loss for words, shock running through their veins, their eyes wet with their own tears, “You-You’re lying…” Jimin’s voice breaks, unable to comprehend what you had just told them.

“His mom didn’t get the call from the police until she got home, and even then she immediately rushed to the hospital, clinging onto the tiny bit of hope that he’d be just fine,” you shake your head, lips quivering at the recollection of everything, “She told my mom the next by calling my dad’s travel phone, felt like as a close friend … I deserved to know.”

“Grandma…” Jia says weakly.

“I always ask myself what if I hadn’t agreed to stay that extra hour that night. What if I had gone home like I should’ve and heard that voicemail? Because if I had, I would’ve gone to go get him without even a second thought. But like I said, I’ve just had to accept that what happened happened, and there’s nothing I could do to change that.”

Seojun gently knocks on your bedroom door, dressed in an all black suit, “Y/N…” he softly says your name, “Today’s the funeral… you,” he pauses, “you have to get up…” his voice is gentle, but firm, “You—” he hesitates, “You have to go y/n, you have to say goodbye,” he whispers.

He hears you attempt to muffle your sobs, just like you had been for every night of the last month. But in a room full of utter silence, it was almost impossible not to hear you.

“Y/N…” he slowly enters the dark room, heart breaking at the sight of you aimlessly staring at the ceiling. Sitting beside you, he begins to gently run his hand through your hair, an effort to comfort you.

But the heartfelt action only makes you sob harder, reminding you of the person you had lost, “I—” you barely croak the words out, “I just want to sleep,” you whisper, because you knew that it was only in your dreams that this wretched reality no longer existed. It was only in your dreams that he still… existed. It was the only time you were truly happy.

But by going to that funeral, it meant coming to face with the reality that everything was indeed real. That Kim Seokjin was truly dead.

“I know you do y/n…” he frowns, “but you have to say goodbye,” he repeats his words from earlier.

Goodbye. Goodbye. Goodbye.

Didn’t he understand? You didn’t want to say goodbye! You weren’t ready, and you weren’t sure if you were ever going to be.

“I don’t want to,” your voice cracks, face feeling moist because of how much you’d been crying.

“I-I know y/n but—” he’s unsure of what to say. What the hell could he say? You were mourning, you were heartbroken. The man you loved more than the world itself was dead, and there was nothing that could be done about it.

“I have to say goodbye,” you quietly mumble into space, the phrase echoing inside your mind, “I have to say goodbye,” you repeat for a final time, an empty look in your eyes.

The rain pours as you watch the casket get lowered, almost as if grieving itself.

There’s a haunting emptiness in the atmosphere, everyone still in too much shock and disbelief to believe that this was all real.

All you could do was blankly stare at what was in front of you, trying your best to tune out Mrs. Kim’s raw sobs, the sound being too much to bear.

She had lost her very first born. The child she learned how to nurture, the child whose job was for her to protect, the child who was one of her greatest joys in this world, but most importantly the child she had no doubt loved unconditionally. And so to hear her cry with such a deep hysteria…. it was just too much….

Your mom squeezes your hand tightly, knowing that no words could take away the pain that you were feeling. She had first hand witnessed the love Kim Seokjin had for you, watching it go from a faint crush when you two were teenagers to a love so strong she was once sure it was unbreakable. You were going to get through this dark period in your life, that she was sure of, but the real question was when exactly would you come to accept it.

The clergy makes the final cross motion, ending his eulogy with God knows what because right now everything was just a big blur for you. Because even now with the sight of his casket being lowered six feet under and seeing both his mother and siblings cry like never before, it just didn’t feel real.

Slowly members of his family begin to leave after bidding their final goodbyes, with the occasional number of them stopping to give you their condolences, only making your heart wrench even more. You weren’t his wife, so why were they treating you like some widow? You didn’t deserve their consolation because you didn’t choose him. Like the horrible person you were, you just watched him leave that night. If it weren’t for you—

“Y/N?” a familiar voice interrupts your thoughts.

Turning, you feel your body go cold, “Y-Yoongi?” and beside him were none other than Namjoon and Taehyung, all three of them having tear stained eyes.

With sad eyes, they give you a small smile, clearly hurting themselves at the loss of their dear friend.

Soon you’re embraced in a hug by them, your body still in disbelief at the sight of them. It had been so long since you’d last seen them, years in fact. Never did you imagine your reunion with them would be here.

“W-we would’ve gotten here sooner but we caught traffic,” Taehyung says with a weak voice, eyes on the verge of spilling more tears.

And for the first time in a month, a small smile appears on your face, “You’re—” you sniffle, “You’re such a bad liar,” and he pulls you in for another hug, this time allowing those tears to fall.

The four of you soon stand in silence, words not having to be exchanged in order to understand what you were all feeling.

Namjoon suddenly speaks, “The last time I saw him was was the day he first came back into town, Christmas,” Yoongi smiles at the memory, all three of them being there, “He stopped by our apartment before going back to his mom’s, said he wanted to say hi,” Joon continues, “even apologized for just disappearing out of nowhere.”

“Tch that idiot,” Yoongi mumbles, “he said the first place he wanted to go was the diner but that they were closed,” Yoongi’s eyes glisten, trying his best not to cry.

“He then promised that for the next time he saw us, he’d to treat us to a meal and some soju,” Taehyung feigns a laugh, “We never got to take him up on it though...” his eyes lower.

“But the thing I’ll remember the most was his horrible attempt at finding out how you were after all those years,” Namjoon shakes his head, a dimpled smile appearing on his face.

Yoongi’s face lights up, remembering just how much he teased Jin that night, “You should’ve seen him,” he chuckles, “Not only were his ears red like how they’d always get but his whole face as well,” tears fall from Yoongi’s face as he laughs, “He looked like a tomato.”

“Ah and the mullet,” Taehyung reminds them, and soon the clear image of the Jin you’d fallen in love with when you were seventeen appears in your mind.

And for the first time since their appearance, you speak, “He—” you softly chuckle, “He was always convinced he’d bring them back in style,” and the boys feel a sudden sense of happiness in seeing you talk about him.

“Yeah he was—” Namjoon suddenly stops speaking, the boys and him now staring at something behind you.

It was Mrs. Kim, who was now walking towards the four of you, a box in her hands. A solemn smile graces her face.

One by one, she hugs each one of them, turning her attention towards you last, “I was—” she pauses, “I was hoping I could talk to you, privately,” she says, the boys silently nodding and bidding a silent farewell to you, glad to have made you smile, even if it was for a temporary moment.

She leads you to a bench, not too far away from his grave.

By now the rain had stopped and the sky was now a gloomy shade of gray.

Placing the box on her lap, for a small moment both of you simply stare at the view in front of you in silence.

You hadn’t talked to her since the night of your rehearsal dinner, not because you didn’t want to, but because looking at her reminded you so much of him. It reminded you of that first day you met him, how she had forced him to show you around town, not knowing that the two of you would be head over heels for one another years down the road. She, along with your mom, had always been your guys’ number one fan, always rooting for the both of you.

“He really did love you,” she stares off into the distance, “up until his very last breath, I’m sure,” she whispers.

You lower your gaze, unable to look at her.

Oddly enough, there was a peaceful aura in the air, both quiet and serene. Just like he would’ve loved it to be. He never did like seeing people cry.

“Whenever he’d come back home to visit, you should’ve seen the way his eyes would light up when he’d talk about you,” she smiles, “always eager to talk about what you were doing with your career,” she fiddles with her wedding ring, “Sungjin would get peeved but Seokjin wouldn’t care,” she chuckles, “he just loved you that much.”

At the mention of his father, only then fo you realize that you hadn’t seen him at all the entire service, “Where’s—” you’re hesitant to ask, not wanting to push boundaries, “Where’s Mr. Kim?” you croak. Yeah, he and Jin didn’t have the best relationship, but did that really matter now? Did any of it matter at this point?

She bitterly smiles, “He’s grieving in his own way,” she says, her voice breaking and her eyes still watery, “Those two had a tough love relationship,” she feigns a laugh, “but—” her voice cracks, “I always secretly knew that Seokjin was Sungjin’s favorite,” she sniffles her tears, “he just wasn’t good at showing it.”

You try your best not to cry, too physically and emotionally exhausted to sob any more. To you, it was just better to be numb than to feel every single emotion heightened, but God was it so hard. Everything just had to be so fucking hard.

Tightly, you grip the bench with your fingers, biting your lip in effort to suppress your emotions.

Slowly, she begins to open the box, pulling out what seemed to be childhood photos of Jin.

A genuine smile appears on her face as she begins to show you them, wet tears splashing onto the squared photos, “I—” she stutters, “I wanted you to have these,” she begins to explain, handing some of the photos off to you, “I tried looking for the photos and videos he’d take when you two met but,” she frowns, “but I don’t if he threw them away or—” she begins to ramble, “so I brought you these instead. I’m sorry they’re not of the exact memory you have of him,” she feigns a chuckle, “you know Seokjin,” she scratches the back of her neck, reminding you of exactly where Jin got his mannerisms from, “he never did like taking pictures.”

She flips through more of the photos, “I’m sorry there’s not that many,” her voice shakes, “I just—”

She needed to keep her memories of him too, is what you know she wants to say.

You notice that she’s also thrown some of Jin’s favorite things in the box, his denim jacket, the original little Mario figure he had always kept on his bed stand and his favorite Mariah Carey album, Daydream.

“I understand Mrs. Kim,” you softly say, “Thank you,” you whisper to her, embracing her in a tight hug.

“I should be the one thanking you,” she says in return. Thank you for loving him, are the unspoken words that linger in the air.

“I should—” you lower your gaze, “I should get going,” you say, feeling as if the world was spinning, your breathing now becoming rapid.

With the cardboard box in your hands, she watches as you hurriedly leave, only hoping that rather than haunt you, things could one day get better for you.

Running as far as you could, you hide behind a pillar.

It was all too much.

Everything was just too much.

Finally, silent sobs escape your mouth as you squat against the cement pillar. Grabbing his jacket from the box, you sob into it.

You just couldn’t let go.

As much as you wanted this all to be some horrible nightmare, you knew deep down it wasn’t. This mind numbing pain was all too real and unbearable for it to be some dream. You weren’t going to be waking up and finding Jin by your bedside, you weren’t going to hear his high pitched laugh ever again, and you weren’t ever going to be able to tell him just how much you still loved him.

Because Kim Seokjin was never coming back.

Your Jin was never coming back.

And it was completely all your fault for it. It was all your stupid miserable fault. If only you had—

“Y/N?” Seojun crouches down to face you, genuine concern on his face. “You’re—” he stutters, “You’re gonna get sick standing out here,” he wipes your snotty nose with his suit’s handkerchief.

Seojun was trying. He was trying to be as supportive as he could, and you understood that, truly you did. But just looking at him was a reminder of your choice because at the end of the day he was the person you chose over—

“It’s going to get dark soon y/n,” he whispers, “I-I think we should get going.”

You stare at him in silence and then turn to face the direction of the grave.

He wanted you to say goodbye.

But you just … you just weren’t ready to.

Because there lied the boy you were once so certain you’d have a future with. The boy who was capable of making you laugh even on gloomy days like this. The one who loved you on your good and bad days. The one who stood in a room full of people just to tell you how much he still loved you, something you knew he was probably so nervous about.

And so you just couldn’t let go.

But knowing you’d couldn’t stay here forever, you had to do the most humane thing you could possibly do. You had to live on.

“And so I did, all for him…”

“Yeojin!” you grab your mischievous 4 year old from the waist, stopping her blatant attempt at touching the stove, “What did I say about trying to touch the stove,” you scold her, and all she does is giggle, clearly unaware of the potential consequences of her actions.

Sadly you couldn’t be too mad, she was still learning right from wrong, but when it came to things like this, it was hard to keep your patience.

Carrying her up the stairs, you continue to scold her, “Remember what I said about it being hot,” you remind her, “you don’t want to end up with your fingers all red, do you?”

She nods her head no, “Of course not mommy.”

“Then,” you sigh, placing your little girl on her bed.

“Daddy said I’m in-de-struct-ible,” she sounds out the new word she’s recently learned, “Like Spiderman!” she mimics the superhero’s web shooting ability, the movie she just saw recently still clearly still in her mind.

“Okay Spiderman, I think it’s time you take a nap,” you say, and she mumbles something inaudible in return, “Hey hey, don’t go giving attitude now little lady,” you hide your smile, “it’s too early for all of that.”

Though not wanting to sleep, she allows you to tuck her in, already planning to get up and play with her toys once you left.

Taking note of her grumpy attitude, you place a kiss on her forehead, gently combing a hand through her hair, “I love you,” you coo.

“I love you too Mommy,” and before you knew it, her eyes were closed, the little girl now “sound asleep”, or at least that’s what you thought.

Sighing, you leave the room, gently closing the door.

That girl was a handful, most definitely, but she was everything you had in this world. Your symbol to keep moving forward, despite that constant need to look back.

Going down the stairs, you hum Mariah Carey’s new song, “We Belong Together” , the famous singer’s latest comeback single having topped the charts these days.

“When you left I lost a—” the smell of something burning gathers your attention, the intense scent of cooking oil alarming you that something was wrong. Your mind goes back to when you grabbed Yeojin from reaching the stove, her arm clearly outstretched—

Boom!

The kitchen illuminates an intense shade of red, a fire now starting from the stove, “Oh my—” immediately you run up the stairs because despite your mind being in utter chaos, one thing was clear: you had to get Yeojin out of here.

Frantically turning the knob to her door, you come to realize that it’s locked, “Yejin!” you yell.

“Mommy, I’m playing!” she giggles, oblivious to the danger you both were in.

You practically begin to punch the door, “Yejin I need you to open the door!” your breathing becomes heavy, panic now flowing in your veins. Smoke was beginning to reach upstairs, signaling to you that this fire was moving fast, dangerously fast.

Taking a deep breath, you take a couple of steps back from her door, “1..2…” using all your force, you ram into the door, effectively opening it in the process.

Without a second thought you grab Yeojin, wrapping one of her blankets around her body and face, immediately running down the stairs as fast as you possibly could.

By now the whole entire living room and kitchen were in flames, and you could hear Yeojin begin to whimper, confused as to what was going on.

“Everything’s gonna be okay baby,” you soothe her, your hand regrettably grabbing the door knob.

Immediately you hiss in pain, retracting your hand, “Oh God,” your hand felt as if it was sizzling.

There was no way you could get to the window, not without risking your daughter’s safety.

Preparing yourself for what you were about to do, you mentally reassure yourself, completely grabbing the door handle and twisting it, withholding the screams you desperately wanted to let out until you were out.

Running out, you place your daughter on the neighbor's front yard, the family immediately coming to assist you.

By now the whole neighborhood was standing outside their houses, concern and worry evident on their faces, “Oh my God y/n,” your neighbor notices the burn on your hand, “Go grab the kit in the basement!” she instructs her son.

By now, your breathing was erratic, a result of all the smoke you had inhaled, “T-The f-fire de—”

“We’ve already called them, they should be on their way. I’ve called Seojun’s job as well—” she immediately reassures you, “You need to relax y/n,” she tells you, but immediately your mind goes to something inside your house that was irreplaceable.

Mrs. Kim’s box.

Getting up from the lawn, you hear Yeojin call out to you, “Mommy!” she yells as you begin to run back to the house, focused on one thing and one thing only.

Getting that box.

“Y/N!” your neighbor tries to get you to come back, but by then you were already making your way inside, using your shirt as a cover for both your mouth and nose, a measly attempt at having more time inside the house.

Running up stairs, you barge into your room, immediately looking to the spot in your closet where you always had the box, but to your shocking surprise… it wasn’t there.

“What the…” you mumble to yourself, your lungs beginning to feel heavy again.

Without a second thought, you begin to ravage the room, knowing your time in here was limited. The fire was going to reach up the stairs at any moment, and once it did, it was over for you.

“What the fuck!” you yell to the empty room, feeling as if you were on the verge of an utter mental breakdown. It had to be here! There was no way you moved it, and Seojun knew better than to touch it. Putting a halt to your search, your eyes widen when you come to realize something.

What the hell was Yeojin playing with?

The Mario figure.

And in the blink of an eye, you run out the room, only to find the hallway now engulfed in flames, making it almost impossible to get into her room, not unless you wanted to burn to death.

“No…” you say under your breath, refusing to believe the box was in there. Your vision was beginning to get hazy and your head was pounding, now unsure if it was because of the fire or if it was because of the state of shock you were in. Tears begin to fall from your eyes as you hear the sound of the firetrucks nearing the house.

“Seokjin…” your voice breaks, realizing that the final things you had to remember him by were now gone. But despite your state of grief, your body knew it had to move on its own. Because by staying here, you’d inevitably die, and he wouldn't want that, not because of something like this.

Lifting up the window in your bedroom, you begin to slowly place your body out, trying your best to work with one hand. The fire was beginning to get to your bedroom, and you simply couldn’t afford to wait for the firemen to come with a ladder.

Sucking the pain up for one final time, you place your injured hand onto the ledge as well, now dangling outside the window, a scream of pain coming out of your mouth.

“Oh my God, Y/N!” you hear Seojun call out to you, “I’m gonna get you help, just hang on!” he yells, immediately running back to the front yard to presumably tell a fireman.

But the pain on your hand was just too much.

You needed to let go.

Even if it meant getting hurt in the process.

And soon you feel the impact of the floor, your arm taking mosting of the hit, most definitely dislocating. The last thing you see being the paramedics.

“Mommy! Mommy! Look what I made for you with all the other kids who were visiting their mommies and daddies!” Yeojin eagerly shows you the scribbling piece of art she created from her car seat, a toothy grin on her face.

“It looks amazing Yeojin,” you feign a smile, trying your best to act normal. Today you had been discharged from the hospital after about 2 weeks of getting your hand and arm treated along with having multiple tests ran because of the amount of smoke you inhaled.

Now, with bandages wrapped around your hand and a heavy cast, which the doctor said would take about two to three months to completely heal, you were on your way to your new (temporary) home. The fire had ravaged absolutely everything, sparing not a single thing in its sight.

It was your fault really, you shouldn't have had the cooking oil so close to the stove, especially without its cap on.

You turned your attention to Seojun, his quietness during the whole car ride not going unnoticed by you. It seemed as if whenever he did talk or laugh, it was unmistakingly fake.

Deciding you weren’t going to press him on it in front of Yeojin, you tell Yeojin to go upstairs to her room once you arrive.

Sighing, you place your things on the dining table, your free arm now feeling sore from its now constant use.

You attempt to make small conversation with your husband, “The insurance company called me at the hospital, said almost everything was covered…” you bring up, but he remains stoic.

You try again, “Yeojin seems to have made a lot of friends, with the way she was rambl—”

He finally breaks his silence by interrupting you, “Why did you do it...” he mumbles, causing your eyebrows to perk up, “Why did you run back into that fire?” he asks, trying to contain his anger.

You feel your body freeze for a moment before answering, “I told you already, I wanted to get the papers in the sa—”

He’s quick to cut you off, venom in his voice, “Stop lying,” he grits his teeth, “There was—” he shakes his head, “There was only one thing in that house that I’m sure you’d risk your life for Y/N, so let’s stop acting dense here…”

You lower your gaze, silence filling the room.

“You could’ve died y/n,” he whispers, and your silence only peeves him, “Died!” he repeats, wanting you to understand the possible severity of your actions.

Narrowing your gaze, you scoff, “You think I don’t know that,” you spit back, not exactly fond of how he was treating you, as if you weren’t a grown woman capable of understanding the consequences of your actions.

“No I don’t think you do,” he retorts back, “Because if you did then you wouldn’t have ever gone back inside that house to begin with!” his voice becomes louder.

“You’re going to wake her up,” you refer to Yeojin, who was probably taking a nap in her room.

It was now his turn to scoff, “Like you care.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” you growl in return.

“You almost left her without a mother!” he finally yells, “All for that goddamn—” he stops himself midway, unable to finish the sentence.

You glare at him, knowing exactly what he wanted to say, your eyes already getting watery at the thought of it, “Say it,” you challenge him, “Say what you’ve been wanting to say for all these years,” you mutter.

“He’s gone y/n…” he tiredly whispers under his breath, maintaining your gaze, “He’s been gone for 4 years now!” he cries out, and you feel your face twist in anguish.

“Shut up,” you mutter.

“It’s time to accept it y/n, you can’t keep letting him haunting you, you can’t keep being in deni—”

“Just shut up!” you yell but he relents.

“Life has moved on y/n,” his voice breaks, “it’s time that you do too!”

“But I have! Can’t you see?” tears are uncontrollably falling down your face by now, “I stayed with you despite it all!” you scream, now heaving in anger, “I had a kid with you, we bought that big old house you always wanted—”

“And why is that y/n? Why did you stay with me after his death, huh? Why?” he asks you, his questions ringing in your head, making you feel as if you were going insane.

“Because I made a choice that day!” you yell loud enough for your voice to echo across the room, everything coming to a haunting silence, “Because I chose you that night, when I could’ve chosen him,” you cry, “And I can’t bring myself to regret that choice, not anymore at least, because regretting you would mean regretting her!” you glance at the stairs, signalling that you were talking about Yejin, “And I just can’t bring myself to do that. I chose you, and I have to deal with that decision for the rest of my life. I got up from that bed years ago and went on with my life all for you—”

He shakes his head, “No you didn’t…” he frowns, “You didn’t…”

You did it for him.

“Y/N he’s dead…” Seojun repeats, his heart still wrenching for you even years later, “it’s time you let go and begin to live for yourself. Not for him, not for me, not for her, but for you,” he grabs your hand, squeezing it in the process, “It’s time you let go.”

You pull your hand back, refusing to accept it, “I just—” you muster up your tears, “I just wanted to save what was left of him. Because without it he just existed in my memory and—” your voice shakes, “and now he really only does. Because now he’s really gone,” you sob,“ Can-Can you really blame me?” you weakly say.

“I can’t,” he says, “but I also can’t keep doing this anymore,” he murmurs, “I’ve tried y/n, I really have. But I can’t help someone who doesn’t want to be helped, and I have to prioritize Yeojin first and so I think—” he struggles to continue, “I think we should get a—”

“Divorce,” you scoff, tears still flowing down your face.

He gulps, “I’ve been talking with a lawyer for about a year now, we’d get joint custody, with no need for court because I don’t see us having to make this a longer process than it needs to be.”

“You’re not taking my daughter away from me,” you clench your teeth.

“I know I’m not and I wasn’t planning on it because damn it y/n, you’re an amazing mother. Truly, you are. But—” he pauses, “But until you find closure and acceptance then I think—I think she should stay with me for the meanwhile, until you’re ready that is.”

Until you’re ready to let go.

By now you were fully sobbing again because not only were you unable to control your emotions, but because you knew he was right. Ever since Seokjin’s death, he was the one who had to hear you silently cry at night, the one who had to accept that no matter what Seokjin would always be the one dearest to you, and who secretly hoped that with time it’d be something you’d get past.

Had it been anyone else, and you were sure they would’ve left you the day Seokjin passed. But Seojun was different, Seojun understood. But he couldn’t prioritize you anymore, not with Yeojin now in the picture.

You feel his arms wrap themselves around your frame, comforting you for a final time, “I’m sorry, for everything,” he whispers.

“Me too Seojun,” you hum in return, “Me too.”

The smell of the fresh rain hitting the concrete headstones fills your nose as you make your way to the resting place of the person you once loved the most. You hadn’t been here since the funeral, too in denial to ever really visit.

It had been three months since your separation with Seojun, your arm now fully healed. Currently, you were staying at a small apartment near your parent’s house, still unable to bring yourself to stay at their place. Not with the amount of memories it brought on.

The last you’d heard, Mrs. Kim had also moved, and you assumed it was for the same reason you couldn’t bring yourself to go back home. It was just too much.

Placing the red roses on top of the headstone, you make yourself comfortable by sitting on the grass, not caring if it was moist from the rain.

You just wanted to talk to him.

“I’m getting divorced, you know?” you begin, deciding to catch him up on recent events, “Things didn’t seem to work out between me and Seojun,” you chuckle, staring at your now naked ring finger ,“Not that you hadn’t predicted it already.”

Silence.

“We had a daughter together,” you mention the hyper little girl, “Her name is Yeojin, I think you would’ve loved the name,” you say, “She—”already you feel tears beginning to well up in your eyes, “She sorta laughs like you, that same kind of laugh that unintentionally makes everyone around her laugh,” you begin to ramble, “she seems to like Mariah Carey as much as you too, she’s the only artist we’ve noticed that can get Yeojin up and dancing. I’m sure she would’ve loved to dance with you,” tears begin to fall from your eyes.

The soft sprinkles of the rain surprisingly soothe you.

“God, I’m such a crybaby,” you mumble, remembering how Jin would tease you for your sensitivity to things, “It’s just so hard, you know? Sometimes it still feels like you’ll walk through the door with a VHS movie you just rented in your hand, talking about how excited you are to see it after hearing reviews,” you laugh, “or that you’ll come in the room to tell me to fix your hair after cutting it crookedly.”

You place your hand on his headstone, softly grazing your palm against its rough surface, “You know scientist theorize that there’s possibly billions to an infinite number of parallel universes out there,” you chuckle, “I learned about it in my introductory course to Physics my first year in college, I don’t know if you remember me babbling about it,” you continue, “But it means that there are cosmic patches which are exactly like ours where everything has happened exactly like this one, meaning somewhere out there there’s someone exactly like us, except they have the possibility to do things different. And so... I wonder in which universe did we get our happy ending?” you solemnly ask, “I—”

“Y-Y/N?” a familiar voice says your name from behind, and immediately you turn to face the person.

“Mr-Mr.Kim?” you say in disbelief, as you hadn’t seen the man in years. Not since the final year you were still with Jin.

You scan his appearance, wrinkles and gray hairs now more prevalent on him, but yet he still looked like the spitting image of his son. He just looked more … tired.

He places the flowers in his hands next to yours, silently taking a seat next to you. You were still staring at him in shock as he was the last person you would’ve expected to see today.

“It’s—It’s been a while,” he says, and originally you were unsure if he was saying it to you or his son, that was until he turned his attention towards you.

Silently, you nod, unsure of what to say, “Yeah,” you mumble.

“Do you often come here?” he asks.

Ashamed, you nod your head no, “This is actually my first time since the funeral,” you confess.

He hums a response, not in a place to judge, “Nothing to be ashamed about little girl, we all have our own ways of grieving and coping with a loss,” and you’re surprised to hear such comforting words from him. In the years you’d known him, you couldn’t recall a time where you had an actual genuine conversation with him. It was depressing that it had to be now.

“Do—” you hesitate, “Do you?” you gulp, “Do you often come here?” you repeat his question.

Coughing first, he then responds, “Every Friday since his funeral,” his fingers tremble, and you were unsure if was because of his age or because of the topic he was currently talking about, “I do it to catch up with my boy, keep him up to date with the things you young people are doing,” he explains, eyes now glistening, “it’s the least I could do for him,” he mumbles.

A silence follows after.

Feeling bold, you ask him something you’d been curious about for a long time, “Why didn’t you come to the funeral?”

He stares at the headstone, “I—” he sighs, “He was my first born, my first son, my—” he hardens his jaw to prevent himself from crying, “The night it happened he called the house, asking me to go pick him up. I had been tired from work that night, so I went to sleep early,” you feel your heart twist, “If I hadn’t overworked myself that day, I could have picked up that phone call and told him to stay where he was, that I’d be there in no time because at the end of the day he was my son who I loved like no other, even if we had a rocky relationship. He still called his dad for help, and I—” he takes a deep breath in, feeling himself lose control, “I let him down,” he ultimately says, “And so I let the guilt eat me alive, to the point where I felt like I didn’t deserve to go to my son’s funeral.”

You stare at him in silence, understanding exactly what he felt. For you had felt that same guilt all these years.

“I quit my job following his death, and fell into a deep depression like no other. Yerin and I were even close to getting a divorce, the loss of our son adding a strain to our marriage,” he explains, “She had managed to accept and let go of her pain, but for me it was just too much. I couldn’t accept that he was gone,” he pauses, “I just couldn’t let go.”

A single tear falls from his eye.

“I was breathing , but no longer was I living,” he continues, “And so I needed to learn how to live for myself. I needed to accept that he was gone. I needed to say goodbye, even if it hurt to do so,” he smiles solemnly to himself, “because once I finally did, it was liberating.”

“And it was in that moment while talking with Mr. Kim that I’d come to realize that in order to start living for myself, that it was time to let go, that it was time to say goodbye.”

Getting up from the grass, you stare at Seokjin’s grave for one final time, for it was time to accept the cruel fate that had been given in this awful tale. One day you’d be back, that you were sure, but for now all that was left for you to say was....

“Goodbye Seokjin,” you whisper, ready to begin again.

Jimin and Jia stare at you in silence, both having dried tears and disbelief written on their faces. This couldn’t be how the story ended, right?

But it was.

“So you really have nothing to remember him by?” Jia asks, and you point to your forehead.

“Sadly all ll I have is this,” you say, “but for me that’s more than enough.”

You turn your attention towards Jimin, “And so here I am, having told you this story in order to teach you that you shouldn’t let your fears get in the way of allowing yourself to be happy, ” you say, “Because then you’ll live a life of nothing but regret,” and immediately he gets up from his seat.

“Where the hell are you—” Jia’s about to ask him something until you raise a finger, signaling to her to let him be.

“I’m-” he stutters, “I’m going to get my girlfriend back,” he breathes out, squeezing past Jia, “T-Thank you Ms. y/l/n. I mean it,” he says, and you only smile in return.

“I should be the one thanking you,” you whisper to yourself, watching as he hurriedly leaves the diner.

Placing money on the table, Jia smiles at you, “Come on Grandma, let’s go home,” she hugs you once you get up, making a new vow to herself to appreciate those around her and never take anything for granted. Just like Jimin had learned, she had to live for herself.

“Finally! I know I told you that you could stay out as long as you wanted but I didn’t think—” Yeojin is interrupted by the embrace of her daughter arm’s. Confused by the sudden act of affection, she narrows her eyes, “If this is some trick into getting your phone little—”

“Shhh,” Jia complains, “I can’t hug my mom?”

Allowing her skepticism to pass, Yeojin returns the hug, “Movie night?” she asks her daughter and immediately she nods.

You smile at the sight, making your way up the stairs and into your room.

Slowly, you crouch under the bed, pulling out a worn out box from under your bed, grabbing a small flash drive out of it in the process. Placing the now vintage item into the plug-in of your TV, your mind flashes back to that last conversation you had with Mr. Kim.

“Wait,” Mr. Kim stops you from leaving, pulling something out of his suit’s breast pocket, in what seemed to be a flash drive?

Handing you the small item, you look at him confused, “I found it in his room when we moved, not too long after his passing, I’m guessing he must’ve converted it before breaking that old camera of his and well I always carried it around just in case—” he pauses, “Just in case I ever bumped into you.”

You furrow your brows, why was he telling you this now? Why didn’t he look for you instead?

As if reading your mind he says, “Because you’ve finally said your goodbye,” he smiles, “watch this when you’re finally allowed to look back. "

Pressing play, you stare at the screen in front of you.

“Seokjin!” the person behind the camera sighs, “Seokjin!” Mrs. Kim yells again, and the camera begins to shake, presumably because the person was now going down the stairs.

The camera soon pans to the twins, both of them giggling at the cameraman's antics, “Say hiiii,” he cooes. And soon the door he’s recording opens and the camera pans to a 17 year old you, an awkward expression being worn on your face.

“Woah,” he whispers, zooming in on your face.

Your eyes begin to water as you watch the recorded memory.

“Seokjin, but you can call me Jin for short,” he introduces himself, the camera now recording the wall beside him, probably because of how he was carrying it in that moment.

The scene then changes.

“Come on, you know you wanna smileeee,” Jin sings, he closes the camera to your face, ultimately making you smile.

“Well cheers to a new friendship,” Taehyung announces and Jin records you all lifting your hands in the air.

The scene changes again.

“This is her first time eating kongguksu everyone,” Jin announces.

“Who are you even talking to?” you roll your eyes, grabbing the noodles with your chopsticks.

“To the people of the future!”

And you recall how Jin had winked at you that time, causing your crush on him to begin to grow more intense.

Your face gets red as he continues to record you. Taking a slurp of the noodles, you try to cover your face.

“Well what do you think?” he asks.

Your face twists, “Mmmm I don’t know,” you mumble, the taste not exactly being your favorite.

“Boooo!”

You flash him the middle finger.

The scene changes.

“Y/N” the camera begins to move around, and your giggles begin to get louder, “Hand that back to me!” the camera begins to move in an up and down motion, probably because whoever was holding it was running.

Soon the person gets tackled, but not before panning the camera onto Seokjin’s face.

“And the recorder finally gets recorded,” you laugh, and Jin attempts to cover his face, but you’re quick to remove his hands. He awkwardly avoids eye contact, allowing you to record his face.

You feel your breath hitch. It was Jin… the Jin you knew, the Jin you fell in love with. Right there in front of you.

Looking at the camera he quickly makes a kissy face, making you shriek in excitement. “There you have it folks,” you tease him, “Kim Seokjin being the model he is…”

He rolls his eyes, now attempting to reach for the camera.

“Okay okay, that’s enough,” he groans as you relent.

“Smileeee!”

The scene changes for a final time, and you see Jin sitting in his room, facing the camera you presumed he had set up.

“Hello!” he awkwardly waves to the camera, “If you’re watching this it means one, you’ve been snooping around in this room or two, you’re Y/N.”

You feel your heart skip a beat, and your body going numb.

“Ah I don’t know how to start this,” he chuckles, scratching the back of his neck, “When I first met you, I thought you were really pretty,” he begins, “and I knew I wanted to be your friend! What I didn’t think was going to happen was that I’d end up really really realllyyyy liking you,” he laughs, “I’ve been trying to tell you for some time now,” his voice cracks, and immediately he begins to cough, trying to make himself sound as manly as possible, “So I thought why not tell you the best way I knew how … through film! That way I’ll let this video do all the work for me,” he smiles.

You laugh at how endearing he was.

“Hopefully you like me too because if not then I feel really bad for the future Jin who’s probably attentively watching your reaction and crossing his fingers. I made this collage of memories using the shitty editing programs we have at the school library so sorry if it’s not exactly the best, but …. I hope this is something you can look back on in the future and be glad I recorded, even if you complained all the time.”

Look at him, predicting the future.

“So… I’ll leave it to the future Jin to handle the rest,” he laughs, “Byeeee!” he waves to the camera. His final goodbye.

5 years later.

“Mom, slow down!” Yeojin instructs, worried about how fast you were trying to walk.

“If you can’t keep up with me, an 80 year old lady, then that should be a concern for you, not for me!” you continue with your daily walk, enjoying the spring weather.

“If you’re not careful you cou—” Yeojin suddenly stops speaking, now having caught up to you. “Mom?” Yeojin asks, concerned as to what you two were staring at with such a shocked expression on your face. Following your gaze, she notices a man staring at you a little girl tugging at his shirt.

“Daddy! I wanna play on the swings!” she pouts at the lack of attention her father was giving her. Immediately you recognize the woman sitting on the bench behind them, remembering her once crying face which was now replaced with a grin as she carried a second (younger) child in her arms.

Slowly the man raises his hand, waving at you with a warm smile on his face.

A single tear falls from your eye as you wave back, your heart swelling at the sight.

And as quick as the moment was, it ended just as fast. As slowly, you began to walk away, while he went on to play with this young daughter. Two strangers crossing paths for a final time.

“Do you know that man?” Yeojin cluelessly asks, confused about the exchange that just happened in front of her.

You nod your head, a smile still on your face, “No,” you chuckle, “No I don’t,” you ultimately say, continuing with your walk.

a/n: whew ! & that’s the end ! if you’ve made it this far then i want to personally thank you! i don’t really expect this story to get many notes well because it’s sad and well ik i personally don’t normally click on major character death fics haha. if you enjoyed this fic then (if you can) please please please leave a comment/review/like/reblog (whichever works best for you) and you can always hop in my ask box for any questions or comments :) im thinking of making an alternative ending for this one day, maybe after i finish the whole tun series, but we’ll see haha. ill see yall next time ! <3

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dingoes8myrp · 3 years

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An Examination of Joss Whedon

On February 11th, Charisma Carpenter made a post on her Instagram account detailing mistreatment she experienced on the sets of Angel and Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Carpenter worked on both shows from 1996 to 2004 and attributes this mistreatment to show creator Joss Whedon.

On the same day, I made a post on my Tumblr and my WordPress accounts regarding my stance on this topic. I felt it was important for me to post something quickly due to the large number of Buffyverse followers and mutuals on my Tumblr.

I was overwhelmed by the likes, reblogs, and comments this post received in less than twenty-four hours. I’m so glad so many people support Charisma Carpenter and others who are speaking out about their experiences.

Workplace mistreatment is insidious, and too often the systems in place to mediate these situations are designed to protect the employer rather than the person experiencing mistreatment. This happens everywhere in every industry. When people in the public eye draw attention to these issues it helps bring awareness to everyone and encourages societal change.

In today’s climate, social media moves faster than legal or internal HR systems. This means, more often than not, accusations spread, opinions form, and action is taken long before any investigation can occur. Because of this, it’s important for people to seek out the facts themselves in order to stay informed or make decisions about who in fandom they choose to support or not.

I’m going to go through various tid-bits I’ve seen over the past twenty-five years regarding Joss Whedon’s behavior, which prompted my quick response to Charisma Carpenter’s post. I feel it’s important to share this with those who may be new to the fandom, or those who doubt Charisma Carpenter’s claims and those of others.

The Bronze

Before there was Twitter, there was The Bronze.

The Bronze was the official online gathering place of Buffyverse fans. Joss Whedon and others involved with the shows occasionally popped in and posted, interacting with the fans. There was speculation about the trajectory of the show, discussion about lore, fan theories, and behind the scenes rumors.

I didn’t learn about these forums until I was in high school (from 2002 to 2006) and I never posted. I just read up on the fun factoids I could find. I wasn’t a heavy Internet user back then. We had one computer in my house and it was shared with my parents. I was only allowed on for so much time per day, yada yada.

I think Buffy the Vampire Slayer was one of the first shows – if not the first – to utilize this kind of creator/fan interaction. It wasn’t a regular thing back then.

The vibe of these forums was very laidback. When someone directly involved with Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Angel posted (known as a V.I.P.) it was with a very casual, unmoderated tone. There was no screenshotting every word to be saved for later. Someone from the media couldn’t grab a comment made and spread it across the Internet in real time. There were mailing lists – collections of email addresses for people who wanted updates on show spoilers or particular non-show activities of various actors. Fan letters were still a thing – actual snail mail letters you could send to actors and writers of the shows. Things moved slowly, and there wasn’t as much transparency as there is on the Internet today with sites like Instagram and Twitter.

In a series of posts made on November 6th, 2001, Joss Whedon reacted to the airing of the musical episode, “Once More with Feeling.” He called it “the biggest undertaking of my life,” but expressed his appreciation toward the UPN network, the cast, and crew – particularly Anthony Head, Amber Benson, and James Marsters. He calls Anthony Head “the golden throat” and writes of James Marsters, “And James, who always tells me to do everything I dream of, then brings that intense voice and those cheekbones along for the ride.”

All he writes about Amber Benson is, “Amber… just, you know… Amber….”

Alarmingly absent from his praise is star Sarah Michelle Gellar, who “went back and forth” over whether or not to sing in the episode. “I’m not a singer,” she told EW. She didn’t feel prepared enough and “didn’t feel confident.” As someone who broke out of her comfort zone and pulled off a wonderful leading performance, Gellar was certainly deserving of some acknowledgment.

Seemingly realizing he neglected to mention Marti Noxon, Whedon tacked on, “Do you know anyone that hot who can run a show? Do you? I don’t think so. What a voice.” At the time, alongside comments about James Marsters’ cheekbones and being “a little gay” for Anthony Head, this seemed to be an attempt at an edgy complement (though a little cringey). Marti Noxon was a new showrunner for Buffy, taking over for Joss. Referring to her as hot rather than praising her work is a little demeaning, in my opinion, particularly when it was up to him to make sure she was respected and taken seriously in filling his shoes.

On May 22nd, 2002, Whedon posted about “the gay thing” – probably not for the first time. Regarding some fan reactions to the death of Tara Maclay, Joss wrote, “I knew some people would be angry with me for destroying the only gay couple on the show, but the idea that I COULDN’T kill Tara because she was gay is as offensive to me as the idea that I DID kill her because she was gay. Willow’s story was not about being gay. It was about weakness, addiction, loss… the way life hits you in the gut right when you think you’re back on your feet.”

Keep in mind, at the time, Willow was one of the first gay main characters – if not THE first – on a major primetime show in the sci-fi/fantasy genre. Having a gay couple on a major show like this was not a regular thing, which made the shocking death of Tara and the dark turn of Willow particularly hard-hitting. While Whedon isn’t saying anything particularly inflammatory here, it does show a sort of crass attitude toward the removal of this representation from the show, which had become so important to so many fans – and still is now.

There’s not a lot of meaty information to be found that I could dig up, but I wanted to give people an idea of this landscape back in the day. I picked out those particular Joss Whedon posts because they show a very casual disregard for the women involved in the shows – an insidious and subtle thing, but it’s there.

Fighting with Buffy

Jeff Pruitt was a stunt coordinator on Buffy the Vampire Slayer from 1997 to 2000. He also happened to be romantically involved with Sarah Michelle Gellar’s stunt double, Sophia Crawford. Both would exit the show by its fifth season. According to Pruitt, it was not an amicable exit.

Pruitt claims he and Crawford were treated badly on the set, that Crawford was “one never ending injury” and she had “reached the end of her rope.” He said that they were threatened and blackballed when they made attempts to leave before the 100th episode. They got an opportunity to work on Dark Angel, but the people at Dark Angel supposedly received a phone call from “someone high up at their studio” and were told not to hire Pruitt and Crawford. He suspects this was to keep Sophia Crawford from leaving Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

Their firing was unceremonious, according to Pruitt. “Sophia was told point blank that she was being fired because she knew too much about things,” he claimed. He said Joss Whedon and Jane Espenson threatened Crawford, saying if she spoke about what happened on set she’d “never work in this town again.”

Jeff Pruitt spoke about “sneaky politics” behind the scenes, saying “there was something weird going on” in the months leading up to his and Crawford’s exit. Pruitt claims Sarah Michelle Gellar was a “spoiled starlett” and that she was “out to get” him and Crawford. He attributes statements he made in private emails that were later read by Joss Whedon to his firing.

It’s worth noting that many people have stated that Sarah Michelle Gellar is undeserving of a “diva” label. When asked in 2004 what it was like working with Sarah Michelle Gellar, Julie Benz said, “She’s extremely talented and generous. Her reputation is just completely untrue. Unfortunately in Hollywood if you’re young and female and you have an opinion you get labeled a diva or something…else. Sarah’s an amazing talent, but she got labeled.”

In a 2013 interview on Bravo’s Watch What Happens Live, Alyson Hannigan answered a series of rapid-fire questions about Buffy the Vampire Slayer. When asked who was the most “annoyed” by the end of the show, she said, “Sarah,” referring to Sarah Michelle Gellar. When the audience booed, Hannigan clarified, “Well, she had a big career going, and it was a lot of work.” When asked when Gellar started to “hate” the show, Hannigan quickly said season three. In a later interview for Huffpost Live, Hannigan clarified her comments further. “[Sarah Michelle Gellar] worked her butt off,” she stated. “She worked eighteen-hour days for years.” Hannigan said she wouldn’t have classified Gellar as “annoyed,” saying, “she was super professional.”

Honestly, I’m Team Sarah on this one. I couldn’t find corroborating sources for Jeff Pruitt’s claims of her “diva” behavior, but I found several sources stating otherwise. Gellar did confirm during a cast reunion that she may have oversold her stunt experience, which ultimately would have meant more work for her stunt double and the stunt coordinator. It seems to me like this set everything on a bad foot with that team. But, the reasons Jeff Pruitt and Sophia Crawford gave for their exit had little-to-nothing to do with Gellar.

Vincent Kartheiser

Vincent Kartheiser played Connor on Angel, and he did a number of interviews talking about his experience on the show. I picked his interviews because I’ve always found him to be very candid and he doesn’t seem to shy away from uncomfortable answers to questions. A few of his answers provide a little insight into the mood on the set at times, and Charisma Carpenter’s attitude.

When Charisma Carpenter was pregnant on the show, she had a storyline that heavily involved Connor, so the two spent a lot of time working together on set. He was asked about her pregnancy and how it affected filming. In a 2003 interview for BBC Cult, Kartheiser said of Carpenter, “she was a great sport and would suck up the pain even though you could see that she was in it.”

In another interview for Angel Magazine from the same year, he said Carpenter had “an abundance of energy for a working, pregnant lady who, right in the heart of her pregnancy, they put her in so much.”

It’s worth noting Vincent Kartheiser had his own issues with the show. “What really made me interested in Angel was the idea that as a show, it changed so much and all the characters could change so much,” he told Angel Magazine. “It wasn’t that clichéd kind of ‘show up, do your thing, go home’ all the time.” Unfortunately, the potential that interested him never came to fruition for his character. “As the season went on, we never really got to deal with the relationship problems between me and David,” Kartheiser said, referring to David Boreanaz as Angel. “I never really got the opportunity to bond with any other characters.” He expressed a feeling that there was nowhere for his character to go and that Connor’s motivations seemed to change from week to week. “There were parts of the season I didn’t have the opportunity to stretch,” he explained, “that it felt like I was doing the same scene over and over.”

Vincent Kartheiser did a later interview with Giantmag.com where he reiterated some of these frustrations. For him, the character of Connor started to get stale early on. “Every week I’d show up and have a scene with Cordelia,” he said, “then Angel would show up and I’d have some sort of conflict with him. There’d be a couple of fight scenes where I’d fight with them even though I didn’t want to and then I would sulk and leave. That to me was every episode.” He felt the writers had written Connor “into a corner” and that fans responded poorly to him.

When comparing his experience on Angel to his experience playing Pete Campbell on Mad Men, Kartheiser expressed a lackluster feeling on the set of Angel. “There was a real sense on Angel that people were just doing a job,” Kartheiser said of the set. “The grips, the DP, even the directors would kind of just show up, do their job and go home.” This atmosphere is a direct contrast to what had attracted Vincent Kartheiser to the show in the first place. “On Mad Men we also have Matthew Weiner on set all the time whereas Joss [Whedon] was hardly ever on Angel,” Kartheiser explained. “I think Joss was doing Firefly at that point and was in love with his next project. I had a friend who filmed a few episodes in the first season of Angel and said everyone was invested and there was crazy energy, so maybe I just came into it late.”

Kartheiser also delved deeper into his frustrations over the direction (or lack thereof) of his character. “I let them know right off the bat that some of the choices they were making [about Conner] were wrong,” he said. “I showed up to play that character and I had a lot of ideas. And they didn’t like any of those ideas.” As a result, Kartheiser said he got “jaded” and “angry” at the show. “I felt like it wasn’t a collaboration, that the people I was working with didn’t care to take risks.”

In hindsight, he went on to say, “I was never a fan of Buffy, I’ll say it straight out. I was never a fan of Angel. I always found it hard to say Joss’ words.”

From all these comments, both from the beginning of Vincent Kartheiser’s journey as Connor, and from a few years after the show ended, it seems like he was excited for the opportunity, but ultimately disappointed with the overall experience. He also revealed how uncomfortable Charisma Carpenter had to be during filming while she was pregnant, but noted her energy and attitude were never a problem.

Farewell Cordelia

Prior to Charisma Carpenter’s official exit from Angel, her character arc had taken a very strange turn and Cordelia had been ominously left in a coma. Concern grew when Charisma Carpenter was not included in the cast of season 5. In a 2003 interview with TV Guide Online, Joss Whedon stated, “The Angel/Cordelia [love story] had gone pretty much as far as we wanted to take it” and that it wasn’t popular with the fans. “It just seemed like a good time for certain people to move on,” he continued. “Not completely, obviously. I’m hoping that we’ll get Charisma to do some episodes as Cordelia sometime during the year.”

TV Guide asked, “Isn’t that a disservice to fans who invested all those years in the character and her redemption? It seems an odd thing to do to the show’s leading lady.” Whedon responded, “That’s a fluctuating concept, the leading lady thing. And it is a little odd. Some choices are ultimately kind of controversial about who stays and who goes and who we focus on. But obviously, we had to have her out of a bunch of episodes toward the end of the year because she was having a baby… so what we had [leading] up to it wasn’t a dynamic I wanted to play out that much.” When asked if things were left on good terms with Charisma Carpenter, Joss Whedon stated he wouldn’t discuss that in an interview.

From Charisma Carpenter’s perspective, she was uncomfortable with Cordelia’s storyline prior to her coma and her death. “It was creepy,” she said of Cordelia’s relationship with Connor. “Connor was Angel’s son and half my age.” Carpenter stated it was important for her to return to wrap up the character’s storyline. “We didn’t want to just leave Cordelia in a coma,” she stated. “Whatever happens after this, I’m open. But it’s just best this story be [resolved] now. Otherwise, it’s a disservice to the fans of our show.” When pressed regarding whether or not she’d return to the show, Carpenter replied, “I don’t think it’ll be necessary. You never say never. However, at this point in time, I don’t see a future for her.” She continued with, “I feel like Joss feels – the Cordelia stories have been told. There were no other directions to go with her.”

Carpenter’s final appearance as Cordelia was an emotional experience. “We’ve been crying for the last two days,” she said in a behind-the-scenes interview. “I’m so physically drained.” She wasn’t the only one affected, either. “The director was crying, the crew was crying, we were crying,” she said. She called it a sad goodbye personally, professionally, and story-wise.

Working with Joss Whedon

Over the years, Joss Whedon gained a reputation for being unconventional to work with. Many actors from the Buffyverse have said they were unhappy with their characters’ creative paths. Sarah Michelle Gellar felt season six “betrayed” who Buffy was, saying she had to be “talked off a ledge” a number of times during filming.

Nicholas Brendon felt the character of Xander was “underrated,” particularly during season seven. “Joss did have a talk with Sarah and I because he was kind of contemplating the idea of Xander and Buffy ending up together at the end of season seven,” Brendon told AV Club. “We were both for it, but then that never came to fruition and I lost my eye.”

On an episode of Michael Rosenbaum’s Inside of You podcast, James Marsters said he was “terrified” of Joss Whedon. “I wasn’t designed to be a romantic character,” he explained. “The audience reacted that way to it. And I remember [Joss Whedon] backed me up against a wall one day, and he was just like, ‘I don’t care how popular you are, kid. You’re dead! You hear me? You’re dead! Dead!” Rosenbaum asked, “Was he kidding around?” and Marsters replied, “No. Hell, no.” Marsters also said he had “open wounds” on his scalp from over-using bleach on his roots every eight days to keep the roots from growing out.

Multiple actors from Angel have talked about Whedon’s habit of making actors squirm. David Boreanaz spoke about how he learned about the Angel spinoff during a twentieth anniversary cast reunion. “I got a phone call that Joss wanted to talk to me,” Boreanaz recalled. “The only thing he said was, ‘I want you to come into my office tomorrow,’ and I’m like, ‘I’m fired.’” He described having a night of “angst” and spent the following day working on some flashback scenes. When he finally met with Whedon at lunch it took some time for Whedon to tell him his character was getting a spin-off. Alexis Denisof expressed a similar knee-jerk feeling of “uh-oh,” but had an idea the spin-off was filming. However, Amy Acker had a similar story to what Boreanaz experienced when she was told about her character Fred’s transformation into Illyria. “It seems to be an echo of, like, ‘Hey, can you meet me for coffee tomorrow?’ and I’m like, ‘Ohh, they’re firing me!’ And we sat down to coffee and he said, ‘I just wanted you to know I’m killing Fred.’ And he waited, like, really a long time.” Charisma Carpenter chimed in, “He likes to do that!” Acker was then informed she would still be on the show as Illyria.

Charisma Carpenter and Marti Noxon have shared their own stories about Joss’s “You’re fired, just kidding” stories. Seth Green quipped “He did that to me too, but it took.”

Whedon’s View of Women

While Joss Whedon considers his writing to be feminist, his portrayal of women as well as other statements he’s made contradict this. In 2013, he gave a speech for Equality Now about his dislike of the word “feminist.” While this speech earned him some acclaim, it also earned him some backlash from the feminist community. This was mainly because he claimed it’s natural for people to be equal, and to add “-ist” to the end of the word “feminist” implies that people’s natural state is to be unequal. This stance was seen as disrespectful to Feminism as a movement, for some.

Joss Whedon received wide criticism for his portrayal of women in the Marvel Cinematic Universe. One critic, Scott Mendelson, talked about Whedon’s portrayal of Scarlet Witch and Black Widow in Avengers: Age of Ultron. “Scarlet Witch eventually has to be coaxed into bravery by one of the male heroes,” Mendelson writes of Elizabeth’s Olson’s character. Mendelson was even less thrilled with Scarlet Johansson’s Natasha Romanoff. “Maybe I shouldn’t be annoyed that the only major female character’s primary arc is a theoretically unrequited pining for a nice guy with major anger issues,” he writes, “or that said character briefly gets captured by the villain in the second act and tossed in a cage for no reason other than to be rescued by her male compatriots.” Backlash over this film caused Whedon to quit Twitter. In an article for Gizmodo, writers Meredith Woerner and Katharine Trendacosta point out that Joss Whedon teased a “killer” backstory for Natasha Romanoff. “Instead of an assassin constantly struggling with finding moral lines she didn’t know existed, we got a woman who feels incomplete because she cannot have babies,” Woerner and Trendacosta concluded.

In 2017, Whedon’s ex-wife Kai Cole wrote a blog for The Wrap stating, “he used his relationship with me as a shield, both during and after our marriage, so no one would question his relationships with other women or scrutinize his writing as anything other than feminist.”

Cole alleges Whedon wrote her a letter in which he said, “When I was running ‘Buffy,’ I was surrounded by beautiful, needy, aggressive young women… As a guilty man I knew the only way to hide was to act as though I were righteous… In many ways I was the HEIGHT of normal, in this culture. We’re taught to be providers and companions and at the same time, to conquer and acquire — specifically sexually — and I was pulling off both!” At the end of her essay, Cole wrote, “I want the people who worship him to know he is human, and the organizations giving him awards for his feminist work, to think twice in the future about honoring a man who does not practice what he preaches.”

In response to Kai Cole’s letter, Laura M. Browning wrote in an AV Club article, “I was sad, but not shocked—maybe a little embarrassed I hadn’t looked more closely at some very clear problems in his work… His work has plenty of male gaze and women in refrigerators and some narratively pointless rape scenes—it’s all right there, in hundreds of hours of television and film—but boy, it sure is a lot more comfortable to listen to a guy tell you he’s a feminist than listen to a lot of women telling you he’s not.”

Whedon’s veneer of feminism has been cracking for several years.

Recent Allegations

Actor Ray Fisher claimed Joss Whedon behaved inappropriately on the set of Justice League, tweeting, “Joss Wheadon’s on-set treatment of the cast and crew of Justice League was gross, abusive, unprofessional, and completely unacceptable.” Fisher also accused Geoff Johns and Jon Berg of enabling Whedon’s behavior. An investigation was done by Warner Brothers and co-stars Jason Mamoa and Kiersey Clemons publicly supported Fisher. Ultimately, the investigation concluded and “remedial action” was taken. The action taken has not been specified.

Shortly after, Joss Whedon exited the HBO series The Nevers, which Fisher attributes to his own claims.

Team Charisma

Those who have shown support to Charisma Carpenter include: Sarah Michelle Gellar Ray Fisher J. August Richards Michelle Trachtenberg Amber Benson Eliza Dushku Jose Molina Marti Noxon Emma Caulfield James Marsters Anthony Head Clare Kramer James C. Leary Sophia Crawford David Boreanaz Amy Acker Julie Benz Danny Strong Adam Busch Tom Lenk Nicholas Brendon Jeff Mariotte

Others who have written about Joss Whedon or come out to support those coming forward:

Courtney Enlow Nell Scovell Glen Mazzara

My Conclusion

As I stated in my previous post on this topic, I stand with Team Charisma. It is not okay for a person in a position of power over others in the workplace to misuse that power in an inappropriate or abusive manner. No matter how talented that person may be and how beloved the work may be.

#buffy the vampire slayer #btvs #angel the series #joss whedon #charisma carpenter

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bunnys-beetlejuice-blog · 3 years

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gently rings a little bell in your ear My fic updated with two new chapters when you weren't paying attention! but now i am tilting your chin up with the point of my sword, forcing you to look. its very villainous and cool. this is part three of an increasingly convoluted story, part one can be found all the way over here but if you just want the high school romance stuff and don't care about found family, that's fine, i guess, but like, what's your deal

The weekend is a welcome relief from everything at school. He’s tired of feeling like shit, so Saturday, annoyingly bright and early, he startles Lydia awake by flopping on her bed. It causes her to bounce, and she groans, pulling the dark purple blanket further over her head. “Beetlejuice…” “I was thinkin’, today we should spend th’ whole day outdoors, in th’ park or somethin’,” he grins, and she lifts the blanket just barely, to glare at him. “You only want to play outside because all your stuff was taken away,” comes her accusation, and she’s not exactly wrong, but he just wiggles a hand under her blanket and gives her nose a poke. “Let’s go get lost, somewhere. Come on, Lyds, please?” She tries to hit him with a pillow but her grip is tired from sleep, and all she manages to do is shove the thing at him.

Twenty minutes later, she’s dressed and ready, bouncing on the balls of her feet, as he mulls over which button up to wear, the highlighter yellow with purple bugs, or the dark green with orange bones. They’re two equally ugly shirts that kind of give him a headache to look at, and both are favorites. “I can’t believe you woke me up at eight so I could stand around watching you go through your wardrobe.” “This is important.” He settles on the bugs, finally, and pulls it on before turning to Lydia, but she’s gone. He blinks, and sticks his head out his door, in time to headbutt her as she comes back in. Both siblings reel back and hold their heads. “Beetlejuice…” she groans. “Lyd-eee-uhhh,” he mimics her. She huffs and throws what she’d gone to her room to retrieve at him. He catches it, then stares. It’s his hoodie, his ruined one from that disastrous Halloween. He can still see that faded dark copper stain in some places, but it's better than it was. Also, the holes slashed in the arms have been very sloppily stitched with a thick, black embroidery thread. He looks back at his sister. “You seemed like you were having a hard week,” Lydia says, shuffling her feet. “I never sewed anything before, I’m sorry it looks kind of messy, and I tried really hard to get the bloodstains out...” He slips his familiar stripes back on and feels much more at ease. “It’s cool,” he tells her. “I like messy.” He holds open his arms and she falls into them, pressing her face against his stomach. It's a nice moment, and for once, he doesn’t feel inclined to ruin it, just pats his little sister’s head. “Love you.” “Love you too.”

``````````````````````````````````````````````````````` Charles, ever an early riser, is surprised to see his children in the kitchen this bright eyed and bushy tailed on a Saturday. He’s pouring two coffees, one for himself and one for Emily, who is sitting at the table, head propped up on her hand, and still functionally asleep, when Betelgeuse and Lydia come bounding in to raid the fridge. “And what are you two getting up to today?” he asks, and the siblings pause to look at him. “Goin’ to th’ park.” “You think so?” Betelgeuse’s shoulder slump. “Seriously? You take all my stuff away an’ now I can’t even go out?” “You’re still in trouble. Why should you be allowed to go out and have fun?” “Cause that wasn’t specified!” Betelgeuse tries, and then turns to Emily. “Ma, tell him!” Emily mutters in her sleep, and Charles wordlessly sets the coffee down in front of her. The smell hits her nose, and robotically, she lifts the drink to her lips, eyes never opening. “Let BJ go do stuff,” she manages, maybe not as eloquent as she normally speaks, her voice gruff from sleep. Betelgeuse grins up at Charles. His father sips his own coffee, and then pats his son’s head. “Home before dark. No fire, no demon nonsense, no taking drugs from strangers.” “Home at midnight, commit arson, summon Satan, enjoy stranger candy. I gotcha.” Both his children receive a kiss on the head before stuffing Lydia’s little black coffin bag with snacks, and heading out.

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It’s a big city, and there’s not a loss of things to do, especially with his powers, and there’s no adult supervision today. They find a café and enjoy a big breakfast, then he turns them invisible and they sneak away before the check comes, only reappearing a block later, Lydia grinning wildly. “Food tastes better stolen!” she says, and he pats her head. “There’s my little criminal.” They sneak into a movie, next, some horror thing Lydia had wanted to see that even Emily, the fun parent, had said she was too little for. It’s absolutely a gore fest, but not especially good, and they throw popcorn at the screen and cheer whenever the killer scores another victim.

“I think you’d die early in a slasher,” she says after, scattering their uneaten popcorn on the pavement in front of the theatre. She gets the attention of a whole flock of pigeons, which land and begin pecking at the kernels. “What’s your logic, there?” “You die on screen early and then the twist is you faked your death and were the killer.” “Ohh, classic. I love it.” “I’m a total final girl,” Lydia turns the half empty bucket upside down, much to the joy of the starving sky rats. “And then at the end, it’s like, I knew you were the killer the whole time, and I was just acting. Cause we’re in it together. You know, partners in crime.” He picks her up, slings her over his shoulder. “Always.”

He takes them to Central Park, next, holding her hand behind the theatre and apparating, accidentally, up a tree. She gasps and clings to him, and he digs his claws into the bark of the tree to steady them. “No worries, no worries. I just gotta..” They appear on the ground below, and Lydia looks dizzy. “Feels weird when you do that,” she tells him. “Like riding a rollercoaster, except your limbs are all asleep. But.. Kinda not that, at the same time.” It feels normal to him, but he regularly eats tin cans, so what does he know about normal to begin with?

Lydia takes her camera from her coffin bag, and readies it. It’s a little instamatic she got for her birthday, a few months ago, and she’s going through film like crazy, taking some pretty shitty pictures. He’s not that blunt to her face, though. It’s not like he was a rockstar on the ukulele when he first started, and she’s got a lot of enthusiasm for taking photos. He’s not going to be the one to squash that for her.

Also, he’ll bite off the hand of whoever tries.

“You think this can take pictures underwater?” she asks, aiming her camera at a random woman jogging by. The jogger makes a face, which seems to be what Lydia expects, because she snaps the picture as the woman continues on her way, and the little photo pops out the bottom. Lydia gives it an aggressive shake.

“I’m gonna guess no. Besides, it’s too cold for you to take a swim.” “So let’s go somewhere warmer. I’m thinking Hawaii.” “Good idea, genius, an’ how do you think we’re getting there?” “You can teleport us.”

He actually has to stop and think about that. “I don’t think I could do it in one straight shot,” he says at last. Lydia has moved to a different kind of voyeurism, because she’s on her stomach on the grass, following the movement of a trail of ants with her lens. “I’d probably have to do little distances, an’ get tired and need a nap in th’ middle.”

“Maybe through a mirror? Like Sam?” She adjusts the optic, an entirely useless motion, because this camera doesn’t have any kind of zoom feature. But she’s seen people do it in nature documentaries. “Never done mirror travel before.” He mulls that over. “I’ll practice when I get home, an’ see if I can even pull you through.” “You’re not allowed to go to Hawaii without me,” she gets what she considers her perfect shot, and then stands, brushing off her dark red dress. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

They go bone hunting next, Lydia’s camera still at the ready, his keen nose leading the way. It’s easy to find owl pellets, and she breaks one open with her bare hands, as he teases her.

“Ew ew ew, Lydia gross, you’re touching it!” he pitches up his gruff voice to sound like a tweenage girl, and she rolls her eyes. “No skull in this one,” she frowns, wiping her hands on his hoodie.

“Maybe there’s a bodiless mouse head around here, livin’ it’s best life.” She looks doubtful.

Another, different smell hits his sensitive nose, just then. It’s death, new and fresh. His pupils dilate, and he follows it, her trailing after him, assuming he’s on the scent of more animal bones. What they find instead is an old man propped against a tree. He’s still warm, but the color is draining from his face, and rapidly. He doesn’t look hurt, he’s not bleeding. It’s like he sat down for a rest and died.

Lydia doesn’t get it, not right away. Death is a funny punchline in an overly gorey movie. She’s never seen the real thing, before. “Should we wake him up? It’s cold to be sleeping here.” He lifts the man’s arm, and it flops bonelessly back down. Her eyes go wide. “I doubt he’s gettin’ back up, kiddo.” She lifts her camera and takes a picture.

“Hello?” He hears a voice, and turns. The old man is standing next to himself. He looks back at Lydia, but she’s staring in fascination at the corpse, so he leaves her to it. “Hey,” he nods to the man, who looks relieved. “Can you call my grandson? My phone battery died,” he says, not seeming to understand the position he’s in. Betelgeuse tilts his head to the side. “You’re dead,” he says, a bit unkindly, and Lydia, who has been kneeling by the body, poking it, looks up at him. “I am?” “Wh- No, not you, Lyds, th’ stiff.” He gestures to the ghost, who has seemed to notice “himself” laying there. Lydia looks at her brother, confused. “There’s no one there.” “Sure there is. You just can’t see ghosts.”

“That’s me,” the old man says, not that anyone’s listening to him. “Should we tell someone about this?” Lydia asks him, and Betelgeuse shrugs. “Why? Someone will find th’ body eventually. You know. When it starts smellin’ like shit.” “I don’t want to leave him out here.” “Please, don’t leave me out here!” “I wouldn’t want to be left out here.” “Lucky for you, you’re never gonna die. You even try it an’ I’ll shove your soul back down your throat, if I have to.”

He smells the netherworld, and grabs Lydia, pulling her back, in time for another ghost to appear. A guide. The guide doesn’t even take a moment to look around, just instantly busies herself with getting the newly dead situated, and Betelgeuse picks Lydia up and carries her away. “That’s so sad,” she says, taking one last picture of the body from atop his shoulder. “I guess.”

They find the next official looking person they see, someone cleaning up trash, who doesn’t believe them, clearly, until he sees one of the photos Lydia took. The deathly pallor of the old man convinces him to go looking. Thirty minutes later, that part of the park is crawling with breathers, and the two of them are stuck on a bench, being talked to by cops. It’s a whole, boring process, and it’s drawing a big crowd. “Told ya, we shoulda minded our business,” Betelgeuse nudges his sister. Lydia is looking overwhelmed. Neither sibling ever gets this much attention. There’s even a news crew, though he can’t imagine what for. It’s just one old dead guy, and it’s not even a murder. Someone with a microphone tries to approach them, and he turns their mic into a black and white striped snake, forcing them to fling it away from themselves in a panic, and then he grabs Lydia.

They blink from existence and appear a ways away, and Lydia’s clutching his hand harder than she needs to. “Hey, come on.” His grating voice is soft, for her, as he kneels to her level, and she throws her arms around his neck. “How are you so calm? Doesn’t it make you sad?” she asks, softly, and he gives her an extra squeeze. “Happens to all breathers, Lyds. But it’s not somethin’ I gotta worry about, ever. So… no, not really.”

“Will you be sad when I die?”

He scoops her up, holding his little sister in his arms, and stands, her still clinging around his neck. “When you die at a hundred and twenty,” he tells her, carrying her along the path. “Wherever in the netherworld you end up, I’ll go too. Won’t even have time to be sad, me an’ you’ll be too busy causin’ trouble, even then.” She seems satisfied with that answer, and he doesn’t mind carrying her, so they enjoy the autumn leaves like that, her in his arms, as he follows the winding pathways of the park.

They don’t tell Charles and Emily, when they finally do get home, the sun just barely still peaking over the horizon. It doesn’t seem like a good idea, and Lydia doesn’t especially want to talk about it anymore. She pins her new photos up on the twine strung between the tall bedposts in her room. There’s a couple nice ones, and she lets him eat the ones she decides she hates. “Does it count as part of being grounded if you watch my tv?” she asks, and he grins. “Let’s find out.” She pops in Coraline, which he has to assume she’s got fucking memorized at this point, but they also talk through most of it. By the time the tasty looking bug furniture is on screen, her eyelids are drooping. “I dunno why they make her eatin’ bugs so evil. I wanna try beetles from Zanzibar,” he complains, and she just snorts in response “I’ll get you some fancy beetles, for your birthday.” “Kay. Sounds good.” She falls asleep on him a minute later, and he waives a hand, snuffing the lights, but lets the movie finish playing as he settles next to her, and sleeps.

``````````````````````````````````````````````````````` That next week is boring, but normal. Adam’s in the library every day, despite his earlier insistence that he had better things to do. Betelgeuse honestly just wheels the cart along and lets Adam shelf the books, now, which the nerd seems to unironically enjoy. He’s all smiles as he gets to put things away neatly. It’s embarrassing how endearing and cute Betelgeuse finds that. It’s Tuesday, Barbara isn’t there that day, at least, not right at that moment, so Adam is babbling about her. “Barbara and I aren’t really performers,” he’s telling Betelgeuse, returning a stack of history books to their proper places on the shelves. “But we thought it would be fun to try theatre together, and then we really enjoyed it, so we’ve been in the last two productions. She can really sing, she does this high note, and it’s-” “Angelic, I bet.” Both boys give a stupid, love sick sigh. Adam pauses, and nods, and then studies the other teen. “So.. You.. You like her?” “Yeah,” he says easily. “But that doesn’t mean anythin’.” “What do you mean?” “I mean,” he clarifies, flopping across the cart, stomach first, and laying on it, staring down at Adam, who is crouching to reshelf some more books. “That despite me being a hot piece of ass, I’m probably not her type. I imagine she goes more for…” he studies Adam, trying to think of a nice word for boring, plain and vanilla. “More stable guys,” he lands on. “Like you. I bet she even likes how cute your butt looks in your khakis. I know I do.” Adam flushes. “You think so?” “It’s a good butt.” He nods, and Adam goes redder. “I meant, you think Barbara.. Might like me?” “Well, don’t push your luck, or nothin’, but you probably got a better chance with her.”

“You’re not entirely unlikable,” Adam offers. Betelgeuse lets out a guffaw that’s too loud, because someone in the next aisle over shushes him. “You already forget what I told you Friday?” he rests his head on his hand, tone condescending. “I know no one wants me around.”

“You’re setting yourself up for failure, with that attitude.”

“You think so, huh? Think I just need to hold hands round th’ campfire and sing kumbaya with all you breathers? I don’t think anyone would even take my hand. Probably couldn't get away from me fast enough.” There’s a pause. He doesn’t realize what he’s said until Adam is repeating it. “Breathers?”

He doesn’t get a chance to reply, because he feels a push on the cart, and turns to see Barbara, hands on the handle. “You’ve completely given up even trying, haven’t you?” she says, and he thinks she means about the books, and smiles. “No point. Adam’ll just do it for me.” “I mean with talking to people. With making friends.” His smile falls quickly into a scowl, and he runs a hand through his wild mess of green hair. “Lay off me, Babs. I’m bein’ friendly right now, aren’t I?”

“Sure, it’s plenty friendly, letting Adam do your work. But you don’t try, and then you get your feelings hurt when no one does it for you.” That’s not laying off, and it’s irritating him. “You can’t imagine anyone being nice to you, so you’re rude and push everyone away the first chance you get, in case what? In case you make a friend? Kevin probably needs you, right now,” she presses, physically too, making the cart he’s still lying across lurch forward. “I told you what happened to his dad, and you just said he wasn’t even your friend, when everyone knows you spent the last few months holding hands and making googoo eyes at him, and only talking to each other.”

“S’none of your business,” he tugs at his hair, pulling a tuft down to watch the color. Still green. He’s okay, but he keeps it there, in front of his eyes, focusing on it and not having to look at Barbara. “I’m making it my business. What are you so afraid of? What’s with the barrier? I saw you with your sister, you’re normal and nice, to her. So it’s other people you’re afraid of?” “M’not,” he growls out, standing up off the cart. “Afraid of anythin’.”

“You are,” she says, letting go of the cart and stomping to stand in front of him. She’s got him cornered, his back pressed to the bookshelf behind him. He keeps his eyes on that green tuft, biting his bottom lip. “You’re afraid of rejection, so you don’t talk, or you’re a jerk to people. You’re so afraid of other people, you make yourself sit alone every day, even when there’s an empty seat next to someone else.”

“No one wants me around!”

God, that hurts. He can see purple forming in the tip of his hair.

“You think I haven’t tried?” he rasps at her, letting his hair go, and finally looking directly at her. “You think I like sittin’ alone, bein’ the weird kid in every class, not havin’ anyone to talk to? It sucks!” he hears himself being shushed again, and he expends a burst of power in that direction, knocking books off the shelves to hit the person who can’t mind their own business. The sudden noise makes both Adam and Barbara jump. “You ever noticed that anytime I’ve tried, people can’t get th’ hell away from me fast enough? I’m tired of bein’ alone, but every time I try, somethin’ goes to shit, or I'm ignored! So maybe it is easier to just be a jerk an’ not worry about gettin’ hurt, than to keep tryin’ and ache all th’ time.”

It’s the most honest he’s ever been, out loud. Barbara clenches her fists, but doesn’t say anything. He sees Adam push his glasses back up the bridge of his nose.

Lunch isn’t even close to over, and he’s just made more work for himself by knocking those books off the shelf, but he doesn’t care. He grabs his backpack from the cart and pushes past the two of them, and he storms out, forcing the library door to slam, even though it’s a soft close door. It feels more final, that way.

He spends the rest of lunch invisible, to avoid any more trouble with adults, and slumps into his customary seat in the back of every class, for the rest of the day. No one talks to him. He doesn’t try to talk to anyone. It’s a system, it works. Stupid Barbara. What does she even know? Like she can somehow understand anything he’s going through. She’s pretty, and cool, and has a ton of friends, he thinks, absolutely bitter. She doesn’t get it.

He trudges to the drama room after school, and pushes open the door with his shoulder. The seats are in a circle, again, and he chooses a random one, pointedly, away from Adam and Barbara, between two other people. He sits there, silent, and after a moment, the two kids both move seats. How miserably predictable. Come on, he wills himself. No purple, no red. Just stay green. You can go home and freak the fuck out, but just stay green, he begs his hair.

He wipes his nose hard with his hoodie sleeve, and focuses on that, on the texture of the fabric and the way he rubs hard enough for it to hurt. Pain is as close to relief as he can get. Then the chairs next to him are scooted closer, and he blinks, and realizes that Adam and Barbara have settled on either side of him. He doesn’t.. Get it. He can’t understand, but then both of them reach a hand out, and take one of his, and give it a squeeze. It’s grounding. He takes a breath he doesn’t need, and then a couple more, shaky and painful, and he gives their hands a squeeze back, like he’s making sure they’re real. They are.

When the club starts, he tries, very sincerely, to focus on what’s being said, and not the bright hot feeling blooming like a flower in his chest. Read the rest here!!

#beetlejuice the musical #beetlejuice au #beetlejuice fanfiction #adam maitland #barbara maitland #emily deetz #lydia deetz #beetlejuice broadway

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imperiuswrecked · 3 years

Text

Diamond Distribution is Dying

And why that’s a good thing.

I’m sure by now most comic fans have heard of Marvel breaking their ties to Diamond Distribution. A lot of fans are happy about this and other fans probably aren’t aware of just what this means in the comic world. So a short comic history lesson to help everyone, this is generalization by me from my time in comic fandom because I love reading up about comic history, so if anyone else has more specific sources or wants to add on then go ahead.

Back in the 1980′s there was different smaller distributors for comic companies however they all started getting bought up by one distributor, Diamond.

What is a comic distributor? They are the company that gets comics into the shelves of stores. Think of it like this:

Creative Team gets paid for their work and complete comic > Comic Company prints comics with their preferred printer company based on orders from Diamond > Diamond gets their order information from Comic Shops who get their pre-order information from customers interest > Comic Company ships comics to Diamond warehouse > Diamond ships comics to shop > Shop places comics on shelves or in pull list boxes and wait for costumer to come in and pay for comics > Comic Shops pay their Diamond invoice bills > Diamond is paid and also pays Comic Company for comics > if comic is a hit then it goes to second printing > if comic flops then Comic Shop still owes Diamond their money because Diamond does not accept returns on comics and Diamond needs to get paid and to pay Comic Company. This is all done in bulk orders.

This is the direct to market approach that was great for comic companies but not so great for comic stores. This is why pre-ordering comics is so important, because realtors (comic shops) and Diamond would then try to guess what the customers demand was and would buy more of that comic to sell. This is why IP’s like Spider-Man, Batman, Super Man, X-Men, always get more comics made rather than less mainstream characters. The more popular the character the less the risk of comic shops losing money.

Diamond had a near monopoly on this whole operation, which means everyone is stuck using their outdated and old model of sales which hasn’t been updated since the 90s, (the 90s comic crash had many contributing factors that also aided in Diamond becoming a monopoly*). Everyone was stuck only looking at what Diamond reported in sales, which means online comics being bought were never really disclosed (this is still unsure of bc no one ever says what online digital comics sales are). Physical comics took longer to get overseas in international markets. And this meant that when in the early 2000′s, Diamond raised the pre-order minimum price from around $1,000 to over $2,000 then smaller independent comic creators were screwed. This is also why independent or smaller creators/comic companies have to fight like hell to get their comics even MENTIONED in Diamond Distributor’s preview order catalog so stores can pre-order.

In the past Diamond has faced accusations of censorship, and bullying smaller companies.

Due to the 2020 Pandemic, Diamond stopped distribution last year for three months, DC cut out early and left to another company but Marvel stuck it out until 2021 where they just announced that they were joining with Penguin Random House to distribute comics. This is a huge deal, without their two biggest buyers then Diamond will die, maybe they can struggle along but there are no guarantees. Unlike DC completely cutting and running, Marvel is giving realtors the option to stay and order through Diamond or to order through Penguin.

What does this mean for comic fans? Penguin will probably be able to get marvel comics into an international marker better than Diamond. Penguin might be able to distribute comics in places other than comic shops which could bring in new fans, they might be able to get comics into places that could go before because in order for Diamond to ship the buyers had to have an account through that one company, which is why most book stores only have a limited comic section, if one at all.

Do you recall all those old pictures of comics being on racks in general stores and pharmacies and stuff? I’m not saying that would come back but there is a possibility that you could see comics in more places like that. The comic model of sales of today has changed a lot since the 90s and Diamond never got that. I’m personally glad comics are not going to be held by only one huge distributor any more.

* If you don’t know what the comic crash of the 90s was then its pretty simple: In that era there was a huge boom of people suddenly buying up comics because of their perceived value, when stuff like Batman’s first comic selling for so much money was a hot topic and more people were suddenly getting rich off their old comic collections, as well as hard core comic collectors looking to increase their collections, spectators jumped in and began buying up like 10 or more issues, and keeping them for a later nest egg sale.

Creators were becoming celebrities overnight thanks to new characters, stories that shifted from the classic ongoing tales to ‘YOU WILL NEVER BELIEVE WHAT HAPPENED IN THIS ISSUE. THIS IS THE COMIC THAT CHANGES IT ALL.” shake up stories and less restrictions on comics. Things like the Death of Superman was flying off the shelves because people thought it would be worth money, it was not. In addition to this huge boom of sales, people who knew nothing about comics or selling were opening up shops left and right, over ordering and not selling, and very shortly places became bankrupt and closed down. Comic companies were literally raking in the cash and thinking that things were going to stay as they were but then the quality of comics had deteriorated, older fans were turned off by this, the bubble burst, people lost interest, and things went downhill.

Marvel bought Heroes World, to distribute their own comics on the idea that their X-Men Reprints were going to make them mad money but uhhh it did not and their terrible distribution pissed people off so they all went to Diamond and thus the reason for Marvel’s bankruptcy in the late 90s where they sold off movie rights to their biggest characters for literal pennies to stay afloat.

#comic history #diamond distribution #marvel comics #dc comics #my ramblings #long post

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raven-moon33 · 3 years

Text

Agh, sorry this is so late! I was planning on posting at least two more stories for #jttwfestival2020, so naturally my computer decided to break down the last few weeks of December. ;;

So, here is my exceedingly late contribution for Day #6: Make Your Own Bizarre AU! I will be cross-posting this on my AO3 profile, RavenMoon33, so feel free to check it out there as well.

This is a superhero AU (because I’m just a sucker for those tbh), so for some basic information:

Guanyin is a director/supervisor (think Nick Fury but better) working for the Lotus Syndicate (superhero agency) who goes under the codename Bodhisattva, Sanzang is one of her tech guys (think Q) whose codename is Monk, while the rest of the pilgrims are miscellaneous superheroes put together to be one of the Lotus Syndicates best superhero teams.

I’m already building up a bigger story and world for this (because I can’t seem to help myself apparently) and I do plan on continuing it with at least a few more parts/chapters. I’m not sure yet if I’ll be posting subsequent parts on Tumblr or if I’ll just keep them all on AO3 in a single story/series (purely out of laziness lmao) so keep an eye out for updates there if you like it.

Alright, ramble over. Please enjoy and let me know what you guys think!

“Monk, thank you for coming on such short notice. Please, take a seat.” Sanzang took a deep breath to hide his nerves and did as Guanyin bid him, sinking into the comfortable cushioned chair opposite her desk as well as he could with prickles of anxiety keeping his body tense and alert. He kept his briefcase clutched tightly to his chest as if it could be a barrier between them.

“There’s no need to be so anxious,” she laughed, “I promise I didn’t call you here for anything bad.” He gave a pointed look to the tea set and trays of cookies and sweets positioned strategically on the desk, an obvious bribe if ever he saw one.

“Bodhisattva, the last time you called me in here like this you assigned me to the Five Finger Mountain case.”

“Which turned out well, didn’t it?” She replied, sipping serenely at her tea. He blinked at her, flabbergasted, for a moment.

“I nearly died at least three times, nearly got fired, and spent a full month surviving in the woods on my own!” He stood up angrily when she just continued to stir her tea, pointing an accusing finger at her. “I’m just a tech guy, I wasn’t even supposed to be out on the field! What part of that is good?”

“The part where you rooted out dozens of spies in our network, exposed one of our highest-ranking members for corruption, and got half a dozen of our operatives out of enemy territory after they’d been held prisoner for years, all from your computer in the middle of a run-down shack in the woods?”

He opened his mouth to protest, he had just been doing his job after all, but she cut him off before he could even start.

“Or perhaps before that, when you helped save countless civilian lives by actively going out to the mountain site yourself and manually disabling the satellite gun before it could wipe out a quarter of the population, because no one else would listen to you and I was busy being framed for everything going wrong?” He sheepishly sunk down into his seat at her firm look, fighting the urge to hide his very red face in his hands.

He couldn’t exactly brush the whole thing off as nothing with her sitting right there in front of him, knowing more about what exactly those two months had been like for him than anyone else did. She didn’t seem angry at least, the same as she had when he refused a promotion and the rewarded recognition the higher-ups offered him after it was all said and done.

(He didn’t want the glory of being the person who wasn’t fast enough, smart enough, good enough to save the seventeen people who died between the time he figured out what was really going on and the time he finally gave up on The Lotus Syndicate getting anything done and going rogue. Three days, seventeen people- he should’ve been better. He didn’t want the operatives who made it out of there trying to thank him when they’d been stuck in a dark basement for months, some years, while he’d been off doing who knows what. He should’ve been better. He didn’t want the glory).

But she at least understood, later, when he explained it to her, so she wasn’t angry anymore. He still couldn’t bear to meet her eyes though. Eventually, she took pity on him, handing him a steaming cup of tea. An olive branch.

A few moments of silence passed.

“I was just doing my job.” He muttered at last, sullenly stirring sugar into his tea, accepting the silent apology for what it was. Neither of them liked to think too deeply about that time. She smiled gently at him, the warmth of it easing the tension out of his muscles. The tense air around them cleared.

“And you performed admirably. You are one of the best tech operatives in the business after all, if not the best.” He shook his head slightly, but didn’t try to protest. Questionable heroics aside, he was good at what he did, and they both knew it. “Which is why I’ve called you in here today. I have a new assignment for you.”

He perked up when she placed a folder on the desk between them, eager to leave the shadowy confines of the past behind. Besides, he’d been stuck on filing duty for the past month thanks to Guanyin’s momentary absence and his temporary supervisor hating his guts for whatever reason, and he was bored.

“What is it?” He asked, even as he reached forward and plucked the folder off the desk.

“Have you heard of the Nomads?” He snorted and gave her a disbelieving look.

“No,” he drawled sarcastically, “I can’t say I’ve heard of our most powerful superhero team, the ones who have racked up almost half a trillion dollars in damages in the last year alone and who have single handedly caused the PR department to go on strike no less than three times in the last two years.” Her mouth twisted into a wry yet fond smile.

“They are a handful, but their results more than make up for their more… unique methods.”

“Reckless methods, more like it.” He muttered, starting to flip through the file when she only nodded serenely at him. “What about them?”

“I want you to be their new tech.” He nearly choked on his tea.

“You want me to what?!”

“Be their new tech.” She repeated firmly, setting down her teacup and fixing him with the no-nonsense look he knew better than to ignore. “They’ve become one of our most powerful assets in only two years, but any team without a good tech is basically flying blind. They’ve been doing good out on the field, but they’re not as new as they used to be. The enemy will start to figure out their weaknesses soon, and without a good operative they can trust to lead them well when they’re in dangerous situations, they have a pretty glaring one.”

“You’re not telling me they’ve been operating for two years without a tech?!” He asked incredulously.

“Of course not! I make sure they have a tech for every mission, but,” here she sighed and rubbed at her temple, and she must’ve been exceedingly stressed out if she was actually showing physical signs of it, “they’ve also managed to drive away every tech I’ve assigned to them within a month or flat out refuse to work with the ones who don’t run. They need a good operative, someone competent who won’t run away when the going gets tough, until I can find a more permanent replacement. The pickings are slim, and I want to avoid having to start poaching techs from other departments if I can help it.”

She looked at him then, her eyes beseeching him in the way they only did when she was asking for a favor as a friend, and not as his boss.

“You’re the best pick for the job, because you know what you’re doing and I know I can count on you to do it well.” He could feel himself wavering now, and he could tell she knew it too. “Please Sanzang, you’re the only person I can trust with this right now.” He sighed and slumped back in his chair, defeated.

“How long do you want me on this then?”

“Seventeen months.”

“Seventeen-?!”

“Just until my assistant, Novice, gets back from his mission with the Jade Apprentices,” she interrupted, a hand raised in a plea for civility, “then you can have any position or assignment you want as thanks for taking this one on.”

He paused, considering.

“Even at Thunderclap? You know I don’t like working on the field.” And a position at Thunderclap would practically guarantee he’d never have to go on the field again.

“Yes,” she nodded after a significant pause, though she didn’t seem particularly happy about it, “even at Thunderclap. You’ve more than earned it, if that’s what you truly want.” He sighed in relief and nodded.

“Alright then. Seventeen months.”

“Seventeen months.” She agreed. “You can have the rest of today off, but you’ll be flying out to their main base in Beijing tomorrow morning. I’ll send you the relevant details tonight, but until then try to get some rest. You’ll need it.”

Sanzang did not rest. Once he got home (or rather, the hotel room he’d been living out of for the past few weeks- staying in the same place for too long made him nervous nowadays) he hunkered down in front of his computer monitors and spent the night doing research on the group he’d be spending the next year and a half babysitting.

The Nomads were made up of four members, each more powerful and dangerous than the next.

Freefall, Red Sand, Nine-Toothed Boar, and last but certainly not least, their leader Great Sage.

With the notable exception of Great Sage, each member of the group had been employed by the Lotus Syndicate for at least a few years before falling out of grace in one way or another, whether through an excessive amount of public damage getting them demoted to less than stellar positions in the Syndicate (Freefall and Red Sand) or the sheer amount of HR complaints getting them flat-out fired (Nine-Toothed Boar).

The three of them were only reinstated as high-ranking superheroes after the Five Finger Mountain incident revealed a distressing amount of Lotus’ heroes to be corrupt, severely depleting the Syndicate’s fighting force and requiring many previously fired or demoted heroes to be reinstated (even if only temporarily).

The three were put on a team with one of the Syndicate’s newest and most powerful superheroes (Great Sage, who as far as Sanzang could tell seemed to have popped up out of nowhere) both as a PR stunt (public damage and HR complaints or not, the three were still public favorites and no one was more popular in the public eye than the Great Sage himself) and as a way to keep a close eye on all of them, just in case.

Regardless of their rocky relationship with the Lotus Syndicate however, no one could deny they did amazing work.

It seemed every week there was a new story popping up in headlines about their latest accomplishment in making the world a safer place; stopping bank robberies, rescuing hostages, uncovering shady gang operations, saving the entire world from some type of otherworldly threat, fetching cats stuck in trees- you name it, they’ve done it at least twice in the past six months alone.

Sanzang couldn’t deny they did a lot of good, helped a lot of people, but even just looking at the reports on the damages left over from their altercations with criminals made a headache start throbbing behind his eyes. And he wasn’t even technically responsible for them yet!

He sighed and started compiling folders on all four of them; their powers, their personalities, their greatest successes, their worst failures, every scrap of a clue to each one’s backstory.

Forewarned is forearmed after all, and dammit, Sanzang was nothing if not prepared.

(Sanzang would soon come to learn that when it came to dealing with the Nomads, there was, in fact, no way to be prepared.)

#jttwfestival2020 #jttw #journey to the west #sun wukong #Tang Sanzang #Bodhisattva Guanyin #My writing #yes I had way too much fun coming up with all the names #even though it should've taken me like #five minutes max #but we're going to ignore that because #SECRET IDENTITIES AND MISUNDERSTANDINGS ARE MY BREAD AND BUTTER #bring all the wacky hijinks and hilarious miscommunication #it shall be amazingly cringe don't worry guys

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yodawgiherd · 3 years

Text

Gone Clubbing

>>>Read on AO3<<<

Coming hot from the Red Flag update, I wrote this chapter that is in a very similar light. It fits the story, so you can't blame me :P Enjoy!

The interior of the club was looking surprisingly normal. Dark colors, tasteful wooden decorations, tables and booths lining the walls. There was a bar in one corner, but the center of the whole club was undoubtedly the raised stage. It was empty now, Darius’ performance didn’t start yet, so Eren took the lead and maneuvered them towards the reserved booth.

Looking around, he realized one thing. Hey, they even fit here! Mikasa was looking amazing as ever and her goth getup worked well with the overall vibe of the club. Eren, who was dubbed a clown by both himself and his friends, also got substantially better, because black lipstick and nail polish were very far from the most eccentric clothing they saw.

“Look, that catsuit is the same as one of yours.”, he pointed out, making Mikasa look.

“It is..”, she agreed, inspecting the latex bodysuit of one of the visitors, “I guess Darius is making big bucks with custom-made gear.”

“He is an artist.”

“True that. Everything we got from him is amazing, so I will never disagree with his statements.”

Mikasa’s grey eyes slid towards the bar, pondering the question of “not getting hammered.” She could handle a few more drinks, especially when she asks for something with less alcohol, and there was no reason to just sit here dry.

“Well, I’ll get us something to drink, because I might get thirsty over the course of the evening.“, Mikasa stated, letting the double entendre hang in the air as she stood up and walked in the direction of the bar.

That’s when Eren’s phone rang, and a quick check showed that it was his mother calling. As one does not let his mother go into voicemail, he picked up, curious what she might want. They did see each other a few hours back.

“Mom?”

“E-Eren, you freak!”

That made him blink.

“Come again?”

“I know what you did! Mikasa spilled the beans and now I know… Everything! I don’t remember raising you like this!”

Eyes flying to where his fiancé was, Eren’s mind worked frantically around the words. Carla knew… everything? What did that mean? What did Mikasa tell her? He couldn’t imagine his reserved girlfriend bragging about anything embarrassing in public, so…

“Mom, what are you talking about?”

“I know that you… you had s… sex in public, Mikasa said so.”

Statement one – Carla was drunk, judging from how she mingled the words.

Statement two- What the fuck?!

Statement three – What on god’s green earth made Mikasa tell Carla such a thing. Fine, it was far from the worst that they’ve done, but still. It’s not something that you boast about to family members, and Eren would rather bite his tongue clear off than walk up to Levi and say: “Hey friend, did you know that I often tie your little sister up and do all kinds of freaky shit to her?”

“Well, I mean…”

But Carla didn’t even let him finish, another accusation flying Eren’s way.

“And you have a tattoo!”

“You said that it looked cool!”

“Yes but…”, she sniffled on the other side, “You were just a tiny little baby yesterday, and today you have a tattoo and a girlfriend and… s-sex… and…”

The sounds she was making were suspiciously like sobs.

“Mom? Are you okay?”

“Y-Yes... It’s…”, he could hear her shaky exhale, “I wasn’t here for such a big part of your life, I missed so much.”

“Mom I…”

“No, it’s my fault, I was the one who decided to leave. But no more. I promise that I’ll be around much more Eren, I want to remember what you do, I want to be a part of your life.”

“You are a part of my life mom.”

“Bigger part then.”

“Very well.”, he chuckled, “Do you want me to come over and talk?”

“No, I know when I’m drunk. Mikasa’s party was great but I feel like lying down now.”, Carla bit back a yawn, “Also, tell her that she looked beautiful today.”¨

“See? Even you tell me that she’s beautiful and you act all surprised when she tells you that we fu-… I mean that we are intimate. Like seriously, did you think that we were in some sort of celibate relationship where we kiss each other on the cheek and sleep in separate beds?”

“Okay Mr. Libido, where are my grandchildren then?”

If Eren was drinking anything, he would spit it out right now.

“Mom! What the hell?”

“I’m just saying Eren, if I die without seeing a single tiny bundle of joy from you and Mikasa, I’ll haunt you for the rest of your days.”

“I…”

“Shush, I’ll get out of your hair now. I love you Eren and tell Mikasa I love her too. She’s like the daughter I never had.”

“Now that would make things rather awkward between us.”

“You know what I mean! Once you finally push yourself to action and marry the poor girl, she’s going to be my in-law anyway.”

“Wait, did you say poor?”

“Good night sweetie!”

And with a click, Carla was gone. Putting the phone down, Eren’s eyes were drawn to Mikasa making her way back towards him, two glasses in hand. She moved through the club with her usual predatory grace, easily weaving through the people there, completely in her element. Eren wasn’t the only one watching her, he noticed, several pairs and individuals stole a look at the enchantingly beautiful goth girl that walked in their midst. Maybe it should have made Eren jealous, but all he felt was a pang of foolish pride in his chest. Yes, she’s so incredibly gorgeous, and she’s mine. Look, but don’t touch or we might have a problem. Or who was he kidding, Mikasa would definitely take care of herself. She was the one who, in high school, broke a hand of a guy who touched her without permission.

Reaching her destination, Mikasa slid down to the booth next to Eren, putting the glasses on the table. A bit driven by all the stares, he immediately took the opportunity to grab a sort of possessive hold of her, angling her face so he could kiss her. Way more aggressive and deeper than necessary, but he was buzzed just the right way not to care. Let anyone see how much he loves her. They were in a freaking BDSM club anyway, this was by far not the worst that happened here.

“Well hello stranger,”, she said once they broke apart, her cheeks all flushed and the black lipstick smeared around her lips, “Didn’t know that you were this grateful for the drink”

Keeping one hand wrapped around her, Eren took a sip of whatever she brought up, pleasantly surprised. It was good, way better than he expected even, as one would not think that a club like this needed an amazing bartender. There were other reasons why people came.

“Mom called.”, he announced, putting the glass back down, “She knows about our public adventures because you told her. May I know why?”

“Eeh, I couldn’t help it.”, Mikasa had an apologetic smile on her lips, “We were playing truth or dare, and it sort of came up.”

Truth or dare? That did sound like fun, and Eren regretted the dumb argument he got into with the other guys at the bar. Pulling out secrets from Hitch or Krista, or hell, his own mother, would have been amazing. Then again, he was here with Mikasa, they had drinks and the show didn’t start yet. So…

“Wanna have a little game of our own?”

“Why? We know exactly what we did.”

“Maybe it’s just an excuse to get you drunk.”

“Ooh, you sly bastard.”, Mikasa’s eyes narrowed, “You’re on.”

“Good, I’ll be taking the first word then.”

Eren cleared his throat, raised his glass, and began.

“Never have I ever been suspended from a ceiling.”

“Cheap shot.”, she commented.

“Could be, but still.”, he tapped her glass, “Drink, shibari lover.”

She did so, revenge forming in her head.

“Never have I ever licked someone’s boots.”

“And you talk about cheap shots.”, Eren clicked his tongue but drank.

“Never have I ever done a pole dance.”, he shot back.

Mikasa’s eyes were calculating as she took a sip.

“Maybe we will have to change that.”, she said before firing her volley, “Never have I ever filmed us having sex.”

“That tape is going to be useful one day. And we have so many more to make…”

Mikasa ignored the tingle that it sent down her spine, frowning at her fiancé.

“Sure thing, voyeur.”

Rolling his eyes, Eren drank.

“Never have I ever wore cat ears during sex.”

“Yet.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing, nothing.”, with a mysterious smile, Mikasa drank.

“Never have I ever been in a chastity cage.”

“How the hell is that fair? You literally can’t even be in one.”

“There are similar devices for women, it’s fair play.”

“But…”

“No buts.”, she pointed at the glass in clear command, “Drink, puppy.”

Eren obeyed, eyes studying her even as he spoke.

“Never have I ever stepped on someone.”

“Oh please, you enjoyed it!”

“Sure did,”, Eren agreed, “but that’s not the point of this game.”

Mikasa took a swig, a follow-up in her mind.

“Never have I ever come from a footjob.”

“Dirty.”, a sip, and it was Eren’s turn, “Never have I ever been taken against my will.”

“Can you really call it non-consent when I was the one who came up with the idea?”, Mikasa wondered, clearly just stalling.

“Miki, I still have some of the photos I took of you back then. Should I pull them up as evidence and let the committee decide?”

Defeated by a sound argument, Mikasa drank.

“Maybe we could give it another shot, sometimes soon.”, she said, remembering how strange the experience was.

Terrifying and perfect at the same time, she was scared for her life when the Not-Eren threatened her, he managed to play the role of an abusive bastard so well. Maybe there was something about him being a bad guy in her dreams because at least party he could be such an asshole even in real life. If she begged nicely, that is.

“I’d have to ask Mr. Incognito if he has a free schedule.”, Eren joked, making Mikasa snicker, “But I have a faint feeling that he might squeeze you in.”

“Let’s leave it on open for now, who knows, maybe I will be the one in charge once we get around to the thing.”

That made Eren blink a few times.

“You want to do that to me?”

“Maybe..”, a bit of worry entered her face when she realized that Eren might not be into it. She had to be sure because Mikasa would never force him into something he didn’t want, that was a big No in their relationship.

“Don’t you want me to?”, she asked, but Eren shook his head.

“It’s not that I don’t want it, I honestly just have a hard time coming up with any scenario where I don’t want to have sex with you.”

“Tsk, don’t you worry about that. If I want it, I’ll come up with something.”

“Fine by me. Open it is then.”

With that topic solved, it was time to continue their game. Mikasa’s turn, she thought for a moment before she tried her next line.

“Never have I ever deepthroated a strap-on.”

But Eren was having none of that.

“Nah, but you did, don’t you remember the “class” you gave me?”

“That wasn’t a strap-on, it was a vibrator!”

“Close enough. Drink.”

Murmuring about unfair rules and crooked referees, Mikasa drank with Eren mirroring her.

“Never have I ever had anal sex.”, was his put, and Mikasa snorted in amusement. She couldn’t even count how many times Eren was either the giving or receiving party in anal sex, so she called him out on his bullshit.

“Seriously? Do you need me to spell it out for you?”, Mikasa moved closer, whispering, “Slut.”

It was magical how a single word could make Eren’s crotch tingle.

“No need, I did it on purpose.”, he drained his glass, putting it down, “I like the stuff they serve in here.”

Chuckling, Mikasa followed suit, both their drinks empty. Then, just as Eren was about to get up for a refill, the lights dimmed and the show began.

The figure that walked in on the stage was undoubtedly Darius Zackly, and he was followed by not one but two women, the player. One was dark-skinned and the other very pale, almost as much as Mikasa. To contrast their natural look, each wore lingerie of the opposite color, white on black and black on white, complete with high heels on their feet. No one spoke, the trio bowed to the crowd instead, almost dramatically, while two rings descended from above, stopping to hover over them.

Keeping his mysterious air, Darius held out a hand and the pale girl moved, grabbing a rope from the cart in the back and handing it to him. With the silky thing in hand, Zackly began his performance. He worked on the black girl first, coming up with an intricate design. Even the rope was white, Mikasa realized, a stark difference to the model’s skin. First, Darius tied her hands behind her back. The second rope went around her chest, tying her breasts in a very familiar design. Then he guided a rope through the metal ring, one that went from her tied hands to the chest bondage. With that, the ring rode up a bit, forcing the model to stretch her body and anchoring her in place.

“Isn’t the chest bondage the one you used on me?”, Mikasa whispered to Eren, recognizing the shapes.

He studied the way Darius worked the ropes for a moment.

“It is, you have a good eye. Although the binding on her hands is different than the one I used on you.”

“Because you tied me all the way from wrists to elbows.”, she made a tiny frown appear on her face, “I couldn’t move my hands at all.”

“Only the most secure bondage for a beast like you.”, he chuckled, kissing Mikasa’s scarred cheek, “I can’t edge you unless you are properly bound, otherwise you take control of the situation.”

“You better keep those skills up then.”

“For you Miki? Anything.”

The performance continued while they talked, and Darius was now working on the model’s legs. He didn’t touch her right leg, but her left was picked up and bend at the knee. Ropes sneaking around the limb, Zackly immobilized it, and that was it for the black girl. She was now balancing on one leg, but with the ropes pulling her up it wasn’t that much of a strain. With one model done, Darius turned his attention to the pale girl.

Retrieving a few more ropes from the cart, black ones this time, he closed the distance to his partner. Following the same path as before, Zackly tied her hands and chest first, copying the pattern. But then the show changed. He didn’t secure the model to the ring, he made her lie down instead, kneeling and working on her legs like that, with her on the floor. The ring started descending at the same time, going very, very low. Done with the design, Darius pulled the rope up and into the ring, anchoring it. And that’s when Eren realized what was happening.

“He’s hanging her upside down.”

“Ooh, that looks like fun.”, Mikasa poked Eren in the shoulder, “Why don’t you do that to me?”

“Eh, I don’t prefer it. When you are upside down, blood goes to your head quickly, so you have to be very mindful of the time. When I tie you up, I like to go slow, really enjoy you.”

“Hmm.”, Mikasa’s eyes were back on the performance.

She was chewing on something in her mind, and Eren had a chuckle when he realized what it was. So many things that they’ve done and Mikasa still had trouble asking him for something.

“We can try it if you want.”, he offered, making her face light up.

She leaned over to press a chaste kiss to his lips followed by a gentle whisper.

“Thanks, I’d like that.”

Just then the whirring resumed, and the ring began ascending, pulling the pale girl up. Upwards she went, until her whole body was off the floor and hanging from the ring, her blonde hair cascading around her face. It was the hangman position, Eren realized. And when Darius took a step back, both Mikasa and he finally took in the thing Zackly created as a whole. Contrast, that was the centerpiece of his performance. One girl was standing while the other was hanging upside down, both in the exact same position. One was dark-skinned yet wearing white lingerie and tied by a white rope, while the other was pale, wearing black and tied by a black rope. It was bondage, but at the same time it was art, and from the murmur that ran through the club they weren’t the only ones who realized that. The old man was an artist, no matter how you put it.

With a bow from Darius, his performance was finished. Both Eren and Mikasa joined in on the applause that resounded through the club, the show he put on was amazing. Once the ruckus began to die down and everyone got their fill of ogling the beautiful bondage design, Zackly untied the ladies while talking to them, laughing here and there. It was an interesting dynamic to see them like this, relaxed around each other, it betrayed that they all have been in this business for some time.

“Hello?”

As they were both watching the stage, neither Eren nor Mikasa saw the couple approach them. The woman was tall, made even taller by the extremely high heels on her shoes. It was the one that Eren noticed earlier, dressed in a latex bodysuit of the same design as one of Mikasa’s. The man at her side was much less eccentric, wearing jeans and a shirt, but when he nodded his head in greeting Eren saw that there was a collar around his neck, marking him as a property of the lady next to him.

“Hi,”, the woman repeated, “Did you like the show?”

Mikasa took the lead in answering.

“Yes, it was great, very artistic too.”

“That’s Zackly for you,”, the woman smirked, “He is amazing at what he does.”

“But we didn’t come here to fawn over Darius,”, that was the man speaking, nudging his partner, “Did we, sweetie?”

“Right, no, we didn’t. We came to talk to you for a reason.”

“Which is?”, Eren asked.

The woman faced Mikasa when she spoke, the words aimed at her.

“I hope that we aren’t too straightforward, but my husband saw you at the bar, and he was quite taken by you.”

Eren had to bite back a laugh at how Mikasa’s eyes widened.

“H-huh?”, was all she managed.

“We were wondering if you would be willing to do a partner exchange for a night or two, maybe a weekend.”, the collared husband took the word, “If you guys are into it, of course.”

“He’s a bottom, as you might have guessed,” the latex-clad woman followed up, “and from watching you I’d guess that you are the top in your relationship? You have that air of dominance around you.”

“I-I do?”, Mikasa choked out, much to Eren’s amusement.

But he wasn’t spared either, as the woman’s eyes slid over to him.

“You don’t have to worry either pretty boy, I promise that I’d take good care of you. I’m an experienced dominatrix.”

Now it was Eren’s eyes widening. He and Mikasa looked at each other, neither knowing what to say. Seeing their slight panic, the man grinned.

“I feel like we started with a wrong question, we should have asked if you are in an open relationship first.”

“That’s right, our fault.”, the woman agreed immediately, “Sorry if we are making you uncomfortable with this.”

Finally understanding what this was about, Mikasa blushed but reached out, taking hold of Eren’s arm.

“No, we are not open.”, she said, meeting the woman’s eyes, “We are very closed.”

“Yep, just me and her, no one else.”

“Aw, that’s too bad, you guys are something else.”, the woman clicked her tongue, “Oh well, can’t have everything.”

“We will take our leave then.”, the man said, unbothered by the refusal, “Have a pleasant evening.”

With that, he walked away and deeper into the club. The woman stole a last wanton look at Eren before following, her heels clicking against the floor. The stunned silence that came didn’t even get a chance to properly cook before a new figure appeared. Familiar one this time, it was Darius who slid into the booth, grinning at the pair.

“Eren! Mikasa! I knew that I saw you!”

His joy was infectious, and the cold feeling was being melted by his presence alone.

“That was an amazing show,”, Eren complimented him straight off the bat, “You are so good with the rope.”

“Bah, just years of training. Plus judging from our talk, you are pretty good yourself, the forms you wanted to do were rather advanced.”, his gaze went over to Mikasa, “Isn’t that correct, miss Ackerman?”

She nodded, feeling way more relaxed around Darius than the two from before. But his mention of her, Eren’s significant other, combined with how the pair talked about open relationships and brought a question out of Mikasa, one that she was pondering ever since they entered the club.

“Darius, aren’t you married?”

“Sure am.”

“And your wife… does she know about this?”

“But of course, I don’t think that keeping such a big thing secret is a good idea.”, Zackly sighed, “I keep trying to make her come here, but this scene doesn’t interest her at all.”

“So she doesn’t mind you working with other women?”

“Not at all, she knows that I appreciate the art in bondage, not the sexuality.”

“That’s very open-minded of her.”

“I mean, I work in a sex shop,”, Darius shrugged, “I never kept what I like hidden.”

Smart approach, if they ever heard one. Seeing that he satisfied Mikasa’s curiosity, Darius put forward his idea.

“Are you liking the club?”

Two heads nodded to that.

“What about the performance, looked like fun, right?”

“For sure.”

Well then…

“The thing is, you guys could perform here too if you wanted.”

“W-What?”, Eren exchanged a bewildered look with Mikasa, “You’re joking, right?”

“Why would I?”, Darius continued, completely unmoved, “How long have you two been in this biz?”

“A bit over four years at this point?”, Eren guessed and Mikasa agreed silently.

“And I’d guess that you have the skills for it.”

“I mean…”

But they did, all the plays and scenes they did together amounted to a fair amount of skill when it came to the act. Mikasa knew how to maneuver her sub expertly, Eren knew how to tie her up without worrying that he might hurt her. The experience did matter. Having a quick mental conversation, they both agreed in the end.

“See? I’m willing to bet that either of you could easily take the stage. Forgive me for saying, but you two are very, very hot. In fact, I’d go as far as saying that you two are the hottest couple I’ve seen here, and you would be in high demand.”, he gestured around, “If I walked around the club and asked every single person in here if they would perform with you, I’m pretty sure that I could count the number of “No.” on fingers of one hand.”

He redirected his attention to the pair.

“From the various gear I sold you, I’d guess that you are both switches, right?”

This time it was Mikasa who answered, agreeing cautiously.

“See? Even better. The possibilities would be endless..”

This felt like the same conversation they had with the pair from earlier.

“Look, the thing is, I don’t think that either I or Mikasa would be willing to ever perform with anyone else.”, Eren cut into his monologue, “We are very… possessive of one another.”

Mikasa was again just nodding to his words, shuffling closer and wrapping her hand around Eren’s waist. He did the same, surprising her a bit when Eren pulled Mikasa to sit on his lap. Talk about needing to express your attachment physically.

“We are super exclusive to each other.”

Seeing that and hearing her words, Darius grinned.

“You guys are just adorable. This devotion you have, this is rare to see and it’s so beautiful.”

“T-Thanks.”

“But still, if you want, you could totally perform as a pair. Even exclusive, seeing one of you work the other would give the guests something to dream about.”

“Look, we will think about it.”

“Of course! No one will ever force you into anything.”, Darius calmed them immediately, “Your comfort and consent are the most important things here.”

He said his piece, got the offer out, and there were still several people he needed to talk to. So bidding the half-confused half-surprised pair a quick goodbye and see you soon, Darius stood up and disappeared towards the bar. Eren was the one who broke the silence Zackly left behind, rubbing Mikasa’s back in a soothing motion.

“So, what do you think?”

She shifted on his lap, chewing her dark bottom lip cautiously for a moment before answering.

“Ask me a year back and I would say No. Ask me two years back and I’d laugh at you. Ask me three years back and I wouldn’t talk to you for a week. But now…”

“Let’s add it to our pile of open topics.”, Eren proposed, “No need to worry about that now.”

With that out of the way, Mikasa grew more relaxed again. Just when Eren was returning from the bar with refilled drinks, she looked up at him, eyes sparkling.

“We should bring Ymir and Krista here.”

“Why is that?”

“Krista needs a confidence boost. She wants to top Ymir, but she keeps questioning herself, so uncertain about it all.”, Mikasa gestured around, “Being here, I think that it could bring her inner domme out.”

“From what I hear you are sure that there will be a next time?”

Realizing the meaning of her words, Mikasa smirked.

“I would want that. I like it here.”

“Ah, look at us – the quiet goth girl from the back of the class and the grade-a student. How far we’ve come.”

“Indeed, but I’m enjoying these changes. Do you?”

“As if you had to ask. When I’m with you, I’ll go for anything, and do you feel like stopping what we do?”

Mikasa’s black lips curled upwards as she shook her head.

“Hell no.”

This year’s birthday was amazing and Mikasa made sure to thank Eren properly once they got home. But the amazing night would have a sadder continuation because, despite all the great fun that she experienced tonight, Mikasa’s dreams were once again disturbed by an unwelcome visitor.

A nightmare.

#eremika #fanfic #snk #aot

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quicksilversquared · 5 years

Text

Pants on Fire

Ladybug AU/ After Lila decides that Adrien's implied threat has no teeth and decides not to walk back on her claims about Marinette, Marinette stays expelled. But she has absolutely no intention to let things stay that way.

Soon enough, Lila will wish that she had taken Adrien's easy way out.

links in the reblog

Across the street, the school bell rang, and the last of the Françoise Dupont students cleared off of the sidewalk and into the building. From her balcony, Marinette could see her old classmates in their homeroom, gradually making their way to their desks. Lila was still sitting in the back, but Marinette didn't doubt that before long, she would have taken over Marinette's old seat.

Day three of her expulsion from Dupont, and Marinette was (rightfully) no less bitter about it now than she had been three days ago.

Seriously, how was it fair that she got expelled without any sort of investigation? How was it legal? How had her teachers and principal even believed that Marinette would do anything like what Lila had claimed?

Did Lila have secret brain-draining superpowers that no one had found out about yet? That was the only thing that she could think of.

"At least Adrien tried to get Lila to come clean," Tikki offered as her Chosen clambered down from her balcony and headed for her desk. "I mean, I know it didn't work because Lila is too stubborn, but..."

"At least he tried," Marinette finished. She was really grateful for that, honestly. When Adrien had stopped over to check in on her the previous day, he had sounded super frustrated. Apparently Lila had somehow gotten herself invited to his photoshoots and he had confronted her then, trying to bargain the appearance of his friendship to get Lila to walk back her claims about Marinette. At the time, Lila had seemed to agree, but she hadn't followed through afterwards.

Count Marinette not surprised. If Lila walked back on any of her claims, well, that meant that all of her other claims would be questioned, and she would not want to open that door. Even if that meant irritating Adrien.

"And at least someone at Dupont knows that it was Lila's fault," Marinette added with a sigh. Not that it did anything, really, since no one would listen to Adrien, but it was still nice. "And at least he's planning on coming over again and talking to my parents today, so that they aren't just going on my word that I didn't actually do any of the stuff Lila accused me of. But that doesn't get me un-expelled."

"Well, if you can't do anything about it, maybe we should just brush it off and move on," Tikki suggested. "Mulling over it isn't going to help, and if an akuma comes again-"

Marinette hid her scowl and reached for her remote, flipping her monitor from computer screen to TV to drown out the rest of Tikki's words. She knew that it wasn't a good thing that an akuma had actually managed to get as far as corrupting her purse, even if Marinette had still had enough control at the time to start taking her earrings out so that Tikki could fly away with them. Tikki didn't have to keep reminding her that getting akumatized wouldn't be good. Marinette knew that.

(Marinette was this close to going to Master Fu without Tikki and talking to him about her kwami's constant scolding. Marinette knew that her duties as Ladybug were important, but what about the girl under Ladybug's mask? Didn't her feelings matter, too? What was she supposed to do, take a train out to the countryside so that she was out of Hawkmoth's range and only let her emotions out there? Be an emotionless robot until Hawkmoth was defeated? No thank you.)

"Don't be bemused, it's just the news!" Nadja Chamack was saying on-screen, beaming into the camera as Marinette pulled up her first lesson of the day on her tablet. "In today's news, we have extended coverage from the most recent akuma battle, updates from the mayor on proposed new recycling initiatives, and much, much more!"

Madam Chamack chatted on as Marinette started reading through her first class's lesson, determined to at least stay on top of her studies and not let herself fall behind. The online school she had gotten herself enrolled in for the time being was flexible enough that if she got a little behind schedule because of an akuma attack it wouldn't be too big of an issue, but there was no point starting off on the wrong foot.

Besides, if she could work ahead, then she could maybe have some more free time to try to make some progress on tracking down Hawkmoth. That would be making the most out of her situation, at least, and then she would be in a better position to focus on improving her designs and sewing techniques so that she could start developing a portfolio while she was in lycée.

Tikki finally settled down across the room, fiddling with some of Marinette's extra thread and beads while Marinette worked her way through the day's Literature lesson, then Math and Civics and Chemistry. The TV kept playing in the background, muted only when Marinette needed to listen to a video for her schoolwork on her tablet.

"Morning classes done ahead of schedule," Marinette said cheerfully as soon as she finished her last electron drawing. "And homework for them finished at the same time, not that there was much homework to do to start with. Time for a break, I think."

"It is almost time for lunch," Tikki agreed, flying over to join her. "You wouldn't be getting out for another half-hour at Dupont, but you've been working hard! And normally, you would have breaks between classes."

"Mm-hmm." Marinette glanced back up at her computer monitor to glance at the time, then did a double-take when she saw the screen. "Hey, I remember hearing something about this before! Tikki, can you turn up the volume?"

"-the continued fallout from the plagiarism scandal at Paris's famed university for the arts," Madam Chamack said onscreen as Tikki bumped the volume. "Another professor has been linked to the scam, which came to light after a student discovered the plagiarism. After the faculty member that she brought her concerns to didn't do anything about the issue, the student, who wishes to remain unidentified, did her own digging and found enough evidence to go straight to the police."

Marinette froze, eyes fixed on the screen as Madam Chamack kept talking, telling her viewers the timeline of what had been discovered so far. There was a lot, with faculty members at the university trying to sweep the problem under the rug all because of some rich donors who wanted to keep the flow of ideas coming to them. Three attempts from the student to let professors and administrators know that it was happening had all been swept aside with empty assurances and nothing had happened.

No one had expected the stubborn student, armed with facts and evidence to the point where she could directly get the police involved.

And Marinette's brain went aha.

There was plenty of evidence out there that Lila was lying, if only people bothered to look. The looking had been the issue at school, with everyone just taking Lila at her word instead of actually looking for themselves. Marinette didn't doubt that Lila had taken at least some steps to cover her steps- forging her mother's signature, probably, and giving incorrect email addresses that would divert to any emails to her mother to a mimic email that Lila could control- but that didn't mean that they just had to take that at face value!

But if Marinette compiled a whole pile of evidence, then- well, Marinette wasn't going to kid herself into saying that that would solve everything, either. Knowing the discipline that was given at her school, Lila would probably get a tap on the hand as punishment, and everything would get swept under the rug. But if Marinette got evidence, and then went to the proper authorities so that Ms. Buster and Mr. Damocles were forced to act, well...

That might be the exact thing she needed.

Adrien wasn't sure what to expect when he headed over to the Dupain-Cheng bakery after school. He had waited until most of the other students had cleared off before leaving, so that Lila wouldn't see him going over and try to mess things up even more, then ducked into the bakery itself.

He had told the Gorilla that he was studying at the school for a couple hours, so hopefully he wouldn't be interrupted.

"Good afternoon, Adrien," Mrs. Cheng greeted him. She didn't sound as upbeat as she usually did, which wasn't much of a surprise considering that Marinette's expulsion was still fresh. "What can I get for you today?"

"I wanted to talk to you, actually," Adrien told her, glancing around the bakery. The collège student rush had passed, and now there was only a businessman perusing the shelves of baked goods. "About what happened earlier this week-"

Mrs. Cheng's shoulders stiffened, and her smile became a bit more wooden. "I appreciate the concern, Adrien, but-"

"Lila's a liar," Adrien blurted before she could wave him out of the bakery. "She's been making up stories left and right about knowing all these famous people ever since she arrived in Paris, and she's had it out for Marinette from the start because Marinette never fell for her lies."

Mrs. Cheng blinked at him, clearly perplexed. "Are you sure that Lila is making up her stories? Alya dropped by for a couple minutes yesterday and she seemed certain that Marinette was just jealous."

Adrien only just barely resisted the urge to snort. Marinette, jealous? Marinette was possibly the most connected person in their class, if he didn't count the connections that he and Chloe had just because of who their parents were. She designed things for Jagged Stone on at least a semi-regular basis, and Clara Nightingale knew her and liked her, and his father had complimented Marinette's designs. "I'm positive, Mrs. Cheng. Lila claimed to be Ladybug's best friend right after she first arrived in Paris, and I was there when Ladybug confronted Lila about lying. And Lila claimed that she once saved Jagged Stone's kitten on an airplane tarmac and so he's a huge fan of hers, and Marinette knows Jagged Stone. She knows that Jagged never had a kitten. And if Lila was making that up, the probability of everything else being a lie, too..."

Mrs. Cheng's expression turned pensive.

"Besides, the pendant that Lila claimed was her grandmother's is actually from my father's latest jewelry line," Adrien added. "It's a replica of the Fox Miraculous, and she bought it shortly after she arrived in Paris. And Lila claimed to have injured her ankle from falling down the stairs, but as soon as there isn't any attention on her, she's walking just fine. And the foot that she's 'favoring' keeps switching."

"And the teachers didn't notice that, or investigate?" Mrs. Cheng asked, the doubt in her voice finally starting to vanish. "It's what they're meant to do, surely."

Adrien could only shrug. He wasn't sure why Marinette's expulsion had been rushed, unless... "Lila told us that her mom's an Italian diplomat. They might have just not wanted to cause an incident."

Mrs. Cheng muttered something under her breath that Adrien didn't entirely catch, but it sounded rather like "I'll show them an incident."

...if Mrs. Cheng was going to storm over to the school to throw hands with Mr. Damocles, Adrien wanted to be there.

"Thank you for letting me know, Adrien," Mrs. Cheng finally said after a couple of seconds had passed. "I didn't want to doubt Marinette, because the accusations didn't sound like her, but I was putting too much faith in the teachers, it seems. That, and the fact that Alya seems to like Lila... well, that was a bit confusing."

Adrien nodded. He could understand that.

"You can go up to see Marinette, if you want," Mrs. Cheng added after another pause. "I mean, if she's working on her schoolwork then don't disturb her, but I'm sure she would enjoy seeing you otherwise."

"Thank you, Mrs. Cheng."

"And here, have a cookie on your way up, I know these are your favorite."

Adrien lit up as he accepted the treat. "Thank you, Mrs. Cheng!"

That mission accomplished, Adrien headed up the stairs with a bounce in his step. It seemed like Mrs. Cheng had believed him, which would hopefully help repair any strain that had appeared in the relationship between Marinette and her parents. He wasn't sure if Marinette's parents would be able to get through to Mr. Damocles any better than he had- Adrien had tried talking to their principal again today between classes, only to get immediately brushed off- but it was at least a step in the right direction.

Even with a fresh cookie to munch on, it didn't take Adrien long to reach the Dupain-Cheng living room. Marinette's trap door was propped partway open, so he headed, up, keeping his steps quiet in case she was still trying to study. Up above, he could hear Marinette's voice, a low murmur as though she were absentmindedly talking to herself.

"Okay, so either Lila was lying about her mom being an ambassador, or the pictures that she showed us of her with her mom were photoshopped," Marinette was musing aloud when Adrien popped his head in her room behind her, going completely unnoticed. She was sitting in front of the computer, intently focused on something onscreen. It didn't sound like schoolwork, though, so Adrien slipped through her open trapdoor and into her room. "Which would make sense, if she didn't want us recognizing her mom out on the street and saying anything about all of her lies, but how good would she have to be at Photoshop, really?"

"This doesn't sound like schoolwork," Adrien teased, making Marinette yelp and startle before spinning to face him. "Your mom said not to disturb you if you were still doing your lessons, but is it safe to say you've finished?"

"Finished and then some," Marinette agreed, waving him over. "Right now, I'm finding evidence."

Adrien bounced up, at her side in a moment, instantly curious. "Evidence? That Lila's lying, I'm guessing, just based on what I just overheard."

"Exactly." Marinette waved at her screen. "And right now, what I'm finding is that Mrs. Rossi isn't an ambassador. Not unless she has a different last name than Lila and isn't the same person that Lila showed us in her photos."

"I- what?" Adrien leaned over, scanning the computer screen. Marinette let him, scrolling down to let him see the rest of the page, which was apparently from the Italian Embassy's site and showed all of their top staff. Sure enough, there was no sign of the woman whose picture Lila had shown them of her mom. "That's just- wow. Uh, do any of them have, like, personal descriptions at all? You know, like get-to-know-me pages?"

Marinette shook her head. "I've already checked. They're all very professional, no personal information in sight. Which doesn't surprise me, really. I mean, if there are people out there who might have a bone to pick with the embassy for some reason, you don't want too much personal information online."

Adrien opened his mouth, then closed it. He hadn't thought of that. He also didn't understand why someone might have an issue with an ambassador to the point of wanting to target their family, but if Marinette thought that that might be an issue, then he would believe her.

"So that's a dead end for the time being," Marinette told him. "Which is fine, really, because I got a job description of what ambassadors do, which isn't what Lila has been telling people, and then this is evidence that either she's lied about her mom being an ambassador, or she's lying about what her mom looks like-"

"Or she's lying about which country her mom is ambassador for," Adrien finished. He shrugged when she gave him a dubious look. "I mean, it's possible! Then the teachers wouldn't know which embassy to contact."

"I guess. I hadn't thought of that."

"D'you think it's enough to make Mr. Damocles undo your suspension?" Adrien asked, stepping back to snag Marinette's extra chair and pulling it over to sit next to her. "Because I mean, it feels a little mean to say it, but... he sometimes doesn't seem the sharpest? And I just worry that he might try to say that Lila's other lies don't matter, just because of what they 'found' in your bag and locker."

Marinette ducked her head, clearly trying to hide a giggle. Adrien was glad that he could amuse her, at least. "I'm not planning on going over with just a little evidence. Lila could probably lie her way out of that. I want to find a ton of evidence and actually get other authorities involved. Like, Lila definitely was skipping class without permission, and there are such things as truancy officers."

...this was starting to sound serious. Like, really serious.

"That seems like a lot of work that you shouldn't have to do, Marinette," Adrien pointed out, suddenly worried for his friend. He knew that Marinette had a tendency to overwork herself, and with all of the additional stress of getting expelled, that didn't seem like a good idea. "Are you sure-"

"That I want to spend time on it? Definitely," Marinette finished. "I'm not sitting by and letting Lila get away with expelling me. It'll go on my permanent school record- getting expelled, and the cheating and the stairs and the stealing from another student. Once I get to lycée and go back to a traditional school, the teachers won't trust me at all." Her expression became determined. "So if the adults won't step up and help, then I'll make it so that they can't not help."

...Adrien hadn't thought of that before. Being expelled from the school that Marinette had gone to for years and from classmates that she had known for even longer was bad enough on its own. But the effects didn't just stop there, and that had to suck. Like, a lot.

(Adrien was going to ask Plagg to destroy Lila's homework, he really was. Maybe it was petty, but in comparison to what Lila had done? It was nothing.)

"Ooh, yeah, I didn't think about that." Adrien scooted closer, glancing at her for permission before snagging her notebook to look at her list of lies. There... well, there were a lot of them. He had kind of tuned Lila out after a point, so to be honest, he didn't remember all of them. One of the topmost bullet points caught his eye, though, and Adrien frowned in confusion. "You're trying to disprove her being abroad using her Skyping? How is that meant to work?"

Marinette grinned, perking up and snagging her tablet from next to the computer. "Yeah, I took pictures of her when she was Skyping us, and they're clear enough to make out the background behind her." She tapped a couple spots on her screen, then turned it to face Adrien. Sure enough, there was an entire folder of pictures of Lila Skyping them from a whole bunch of different places. "Aside from the fact that she definitely wouldn't get enough Internet to get be able to call us from the street- or good enough cell service to get that clear of a photo- there's no people or cars in the background. Of very main streets. Ever."

Adrien's jaw dropped, and he stared at her in admiration. He had suspected that Lila wasn't telling the full truth, of course, but he had mostly thought that she was lying about who she was meeting, not necessarily where she was. But Marinette was absolutely right. "Wow, Marinette. I didn't- I didn't even think of that! You're brilliant. So what was she in front of, then? Posters?"

Marinette nodded. "I think so. I did a little bit of searching at the time, and if she had used a greenscreen, then she would have risked a little distorted halo showing up around her. Either way, she had to get the picture from the backdrop somewhere, and I want to find it. How I'll do that I don't know, exactly, but I'll figure it out."

"Brilliant." Adrien gave her another admiring glance before turning his attention back to her list. Marinette was a lot like Ladybug, really. She noticed details that no one else did, and could pick out when things were even a little out of place. It was a talent for sure, and one that Adrien honestly wished he had.

But he didn't, so he would have to content himself with helping out the most fantastic girls in his life in whatever ways he could.

Which, at the moment, could very well be using his connections.

"I actually have Prince Ali's contact information," Adrien commented as he noticed one specific bullet point on the list. Lila had told several stories about being in contact with Prince Ali and organizing charities and events with him. Connections with an actual prince was a undeniable attention-getter, so her fascination with him was no real surprise. "We've not been in contact that often, but my father had him and his assistant over while they were in Paris. There was an idea that there might be some collaboration or publicity with Gabriel that fell through, but, well..." Adrien shrugged, bashful. "Neither of us had that many friends at that time, so we exchanged numbers. I can text him and ask about Lila's claims and if he has any suggestions for sites to look at to back up his claims." He flashed a smile at Marinette. "Because I bet we don't just want word-of-mouth, right? Since emails can be modified or faked."

Marinette looked thrilled. "Right! And I'm so glad you have a way to contact Prince Ali, because I figured- well, I figured that those lies would be the most difficult ones to disprove, since Achu seems to keep him fairly sheltered from the media and not that much information about his life gets out."

"They do, but I'm pretty sure that Prince Ali does have some official pages with information on his projects." Adrien pulled out his phone, shooting a quick text to Prince Ali before tucking it back in his pocket and turning his full attention back to Marinette. He had the better part of an hour left before the Gorilla would come looking for him, and he wanted to use that time to help Marinette as much as he could. "Okay. What else do you have on your list?"

Things were coming together faster than Marinette had expected, she had to admit. Only days after she started collecting evidence, her parents' last lingering doubts about the validity of any of the claims against her had vanished, they had told Madam Chamack and she was preparing a story to break once Marinette said the word, and on top of that, they now had a lawyer who had listened to Marinette's detailing of everything that had happened at school. They were preparing a lawsuit against the school, because absolutely none of the required procedures for expulsion had been followed.

Like, literally none. The accusations had been flimsy and all coming from one other student, and they hadn't been investigated at all. There had been no consideration of how likely the accusations were given Marinette's stellar history, and no calling in Lila's mother to discuss the accusations. There was absolutely no sense of any procedure being followed, and considering how much behavior from Chloe the school had let slide before, well...

The favoritism there was astounding, and they couldn't let it stand.

Marinette smiled at the reminder of that meeting as she navigated her way though her online school's portal. It was really nice to have so much support from adults, after months and months and months at school where people hadn't listened to her about Lila, hadn't done anything about Chloe, had told her that really, it isn't as big of a problem as you're making it out to be.

It was a big problem, and people weren't addressing it correctly, and that was going to be fixed. It was unfortunate that it had gotten to the point where lawsuits had to get involved, but things couldn't just be allowed to continue as they were.

And this time, it wasn't entirely up to Marinette to end it. The adults would take care of all of the legal stuff, and if Marinette decided that she was tired of dealing with the situation entirely, then that didn't mean that Lila would get away with things.

Which was nice to know, even if Marinette had no intention of excusing herself from the whole thing. Lila had made life exceedingly difficult for Marinette; now, Marinette wanted to look Lila in the eye while grinding all of her lies into the ground.

...maybe she shouldn't be so focused on revenge when she was a superhero, but honestly, Lila had it coming.

Smiling to herself, Marinette clicked a couple few more times before reaching her target page. It loaded quickly, the title of her class and her current unit at the top of the page, with a little bar below it showing where she was compared to where she was meant to be.

Marinette had started slightly behind schedule- Dupont had apparently fallen behind the national standards schedule, probably because of akuma attacks interrupting their days- and now she had caught up in most subjects and already had started edging ahead in a couple classes, including this particular one.

Civics. Unit: Foreign Relations

Unit project: Create a product- a poster, a paper, or a film- on a country of your choice, documenting their relationship with France, current and historical. Exact requirements, due dates, and minimum lengths detailed below.

It wasn't a mistake that Marinette had pushed herself to get ahead in this particular class. She had looked ahead and seen this particular project coming up and, well, filming some interviews at the Italian Embassy sounded like it would fit the bill perfectly.

"Do you really think that that's necessary at this point, Marinette?" Tikki asked from where she was perched on Marinette's sewing machine. "I mean, you have enough evidence to prove that Lila has hardly been truthful and shouldn't be trusted, and even if she tries to wriggle her way out of it, it's not going to work. Not with a truancy officer alerted and on her trail. Once an accusation has been filed, they will investigate it until they're satisfied. It's going to take more than a couple fake tears and excuses for them to drop it."

"Honestly, this bit is mostly because I'm still curious." Marinette sat back in her chair, scanning over the project guidelines. "Like, I know that Lila needed a backstory that would make it plausible that she could have met a bunch of famous people and be traveling all of the time, but why the Italian Embassy? Was that picture really of her mom? I just- I want to nose around a little. Besides, more evidence is always a good thing, and it doubles as a school assignment, too!"

"A school assignment that isn't due for weeks," Tikki pointed out. "You know what your mom told you, about not burning yourself out by overworking!"

Marinette shrugged, even as she made a few notes about things that she would have to do before filming- looking up some basic history about France-Italian relations, reaching out to a couple ambassadors to see if she could interview them, and seeing if she could check out some decent video camera and microphone equipment from the library were on the top of her list, along with coming up with questions that would hit all of the needed points plus a couple extra. "I mean, I think I'll be fine, especially because, well, I don't think I'm going to get invited to any get-togethers with the girls this week. Alya seemed pretty ticked with me when she left yesterday. So I'll have a lot of free time, probably."

Tikki made a face at that. "I suppose. But you still have Adrien coming over every day! It's not like you aren't speaking to any of your old classmates."

Marinette ducked her head, unable to hide her smile. Adrien had been spending a lot of time with her, and every afternoon they spent together made it that much easier for her to speak to him and see the time as hanging out as friends, not as a potential lead-up to a date. She could enjoy their time together fully, instead of being strung out and on edge.

It didn't take long for Marinette to get fully back into her schoolwork, continuing her slow edging forward ahead of the schedule. Despite her kwami's (and her mother's) worries, she really wasn't overworking herself. Pushing herself, maybe, but really, all Marinette was doing was putting her best foot forward and going at her own pace. It was just that her own pace was fast.

It was just that in class, they always had to slow down when someone didn't understand what was going on, which- well, in some classes, it could be pretty often. Then there were disruptions from people asking questions (or making comments about the famous people they had "met" that were somehow meant to be relevant to whatever they were doing) or having arguments, and the time spent handing out and collecting papers. There were breaks between classes, and even some classes where they ended up with extra, wasted time at the end of their class when they finished something early and didn't have enough time to start something new. That added up to a lot of time, it turned out, and with someone who was properly motivated, getting ahead in classes was a piece of cake.

Marinette was properly motivated. So motivated, in fact, that she completely missed Adrien calling her name from downstairs before coming up into her room, hair in disarray with sweat after his fencing lesson and backpack slung haphazardly over his shoulder.

"That doesn't look familiar. You must have passed us, then."

Marinette yelped, startling and whipping around. Adrien just looked amused at her reaction, pulling up his usual chair next to her. "Am I right?"

"Yeah, I'm working ahead," Marinette admitted, glancing back at her screen. "It gives me something to do. And when the curriculum was made, I think they factored in some interruptions during class, and I don't really have that. I mean, we had a meeting with a lawyer today, but that was kind of over lunch anyway so I didn't fall behind."

Adrien blinked, puzzled. "A lawyer?"

"My mom was talking to Madam Chamack, because they're friends, and she said that it would be the best idea," Marinette told him. "It'll get my expulsion cleared for sure, and will address some of the ongoing problems at the school."

A flash of uncertainty crossed Adrien's face and he started worrying at his lip. "So Ms. Bustier and Mr. Damocles will be getting in trouble, too, not just Lila?"

She had suspected that Adrien might have trouble with that. Marinette had too, because she had known Ms. Bustier for years now and for the most part, had enjoyed her as a teacher. But, well, it was impossible to ignore all of the serious missteps that Ms. Bustier had made. "Yeah. But if it was just Lila getting in trouble, then what happens down the road if another liar shows up, or just another bully in general, and they just keep doing the same thing where there aren't any punishments? I could handle it, but I couldn't always, and, well..."

"And not everyone is as resilient and brave as you," Adrien finished, the uncertainly on his face starting to ebb away. "And not everyone is as willing as you to stand up and fight, or help classmates. I know if it was me that Lila had targeted, I- well, I might try protesting, but I don't think it would go very far. I would end up homeschooled again for sure, and never get to go back to public school again."

"I think the rest of us would protest, and I would definitely go after Lila just like I am now," Marinette assured him. "But for kids in the future who might not have that- well, I don't want injustice to go unchecked. I'm not going to be surprised if someone gets akumatized over this, but better one or two people now than a whole slew of people in the future."

Adrien nodded, letting out a slow breath. "Yeah. Yeah, I can understand that. It makes sense, I was just surprised." He worried his lip, then perked up. "Oh, I meant to tell you right away- I think that Madam Mendeleev has caught on that Lila isn't telling the truth, because she isn't being as lenient with Lila as she used to be. She's not giving any accommodations whenever Lila tries to claim that she needs them because of some condition or another, and she's told Lila off about story time in her classroom."

Marinette giggled. "Oh, I would love to see that. I bet Lila is pretty mad about that."

"She's whined plenty, but I don't think that it's going to do much. Not if she doesn't have a doctor's note to back all of her 'conditions' up, and not when Madam Mendeleev has actually had students with some of the conditions that Lila has claimed before." Adrien grinned. "The look on Lila's face at that- oh, you should have been there. Al- some of the other classmates were scandalized that she was questioning a medical condition, and there was a whole thing- actually, I can see how you're getting so far ahead of us," Adrien interrupted himself with a snort. "Ten minutes of class, gone, just because of, uh, people pulling up sources on accommodating disabilities and trying to talk over Madam Mendeleev until they got sent to the office."

"Why do I get the feeling that you were referring to Alya?" Marinette asked with a sigh and a roll of her eyes. "Now she decides to go for her sources. She won't even entertain the idea of looking up sources for Lila's claims or for some of the stuff she posts on the Ladyblog, but the moment that someone questions Lila..."

Adrien quirked an eyebrow at her. "Should- should I ask?"

"Alya came over yesterday to update me on her 'investigation' and I commented on the fact that she wasn't even looking at Lila as a possibility even though she was the one leveling all of the accusations, and she got really ticked at me," Marinette told him. "She said something about making accusations without any evidence and being obsessed with Lila and then stormed out."

Adrien spluttered. "She- you- she accused you of making accusations without evidence? But you have a literal pile of evidence right over there- it's not hidden or anything! Like, it's super-obvious! How did she miss that?"

Marinette could only shrug. "You know Alya. When she gets focused on one thing, she just turns oblivious to everything else."

"That's frustrating." Adrien reached over to squeeze her hand comfortingly, flashing her a small smile. "I'm sure she'll be kicking herself once everything comes out."

"Yeah, especially because of the latest interview I got." Marinette reached forward, picking up the flash drive sitting next to her computer and waving it at him. "I got a brief interview with Ladybug, and she confirmed that the first time she heard of Lila was when she saw the video on the Ladyblog, and that she saw Lila throw away your father's book, and that she was in Paris on Heroes' Day, and that she's maliciously interfered with akuma battles before."

"Ooh, nice," Adrien said appreciatively. "That must have been hard to get, but that'll be good. And also a good way to point out to Alya that she literally didn't check anything."

Marinette could only smile. Actually, once she had gotten things set up, it had been quite easy to get the video. All she had really needed to do was record herself asking the questions, pitching her voice a little higher than usual, and then play them back while Ladybug answered the questions, doing her best to make it sound like she hadn't practiced already and pitching her voice slightly downwards.

The Miraculous would protect her identity no matter what, but there was no point in risking someone noticing that her voice and Ladybug's were incredibly similar.

"Are you almost done with evidence-collecting, do you think?" Adrien asked Marinette, giving the flash drive one last look before turning his attention to Marinette. "I mean, the sooner you break the news, the sooner you can come back."

Marinette winced. This was the news that she hadn't been looking forward to breaking. "Actually, I, uh..."

Adrien practically wilted. "You're not coming back?"

"My parents are really furious at the school," Marinette admitted. "We've been talking a lot, and I maybe hadn't told them everything that had been happening at school over the past few years with bullying and discipline, and- well, they said that unless there were significant changes, they don't want me going back. I'll be rejoining everyone in lycée," she added quickly before Adrien slouched straight off of his chair. "Which isn't that far off, really, in the grand scheme of things. And I can hang out with the class whenever, and if you want to come over like you are now, or over lunch..."

"So it's not like we won't be seeing you at all," Adrien finished, scooting closer to her. "I was worried about that."

Marinette flashed a smile at him. She was going to miss hanging out with people between classes, but sacrifices had to be made if she wanted to fully capitalize on her temporary homeschooling and it wouldn't be forever. "Right. I'll be right across the street, available to hang out. It's not the end of the word."

"And it gives me a reason to look forward to lycée," Adrien added on. He glanced at her computer screen, which still had her online school portal up. "And I was right, wasn't I? About you being ahead of Dupont now?"

"It wasn't hard," Marinette admitted. "You guys are behind, and when I work at my own speed, I can cover more than a day's work. So that's another reason it wouldn't really make sense for me to go back, because I'll be so far ahead. And it's probably going to be another week at least, because all of the legal stuff takes some time to put together and file."

Adrien nodded, still looking a bit let down. Clearly he had been hoping that Marinette would be returning to school soon, and as much as that made Marinette's heart race, she couldn't change her plans. "Right."

"But enough depressing stuff," Marinette decided, shutting her notebook and closing the school website before grinning up at Adrien. "Wanna play Mecha Strike?"

"That sounds perfect."

Marinette headed up the steps of the Italian Embassy, a spring in her steps. It hadn't taken long to set up an appointment to interview an ambassador and a couple other staff members at the embassy, and they were more than willing to spend a few minutes with her. She had promised not to take up too much of their time- after all, they had important work to do- and now she was arriving early, just to make sure that something like a delayed bus wouldn't make her late.

Not that she would have allowed a delayed bus to make her late. After all, Ladybug could cross Paris faster than any bus could, so if it had come to that, she would have just transformed and raced across the rooftops. It wouldn't be ideal- she didn't want Chat Noir to see her out and about and interrupt his school day because he thought that there was an akuma- but the option was still there.

"So I'm meeting with Ambassador Bianchi in ten minutes and Monsieur Moretti after that," Marinette told Tikki as she mounted the last few steps and headed for the door. "I tested all of the equipment last night, so that I know how it works and that it works. I checked to make sure that all of my previous footage was off, so I have plenty of space. Tikki, am I forgetting anything?"

"No, I don't think so!" Tikki chirped, sticking her head out of Marinette's purse briefly before vanishing back inside. "You're all set, Marinette!"

Giving a determined nod, Marinette pulled open the door, stepping inside the embassy. A cheerful lady at the welcome desk gave her directions to the ambassador's office, and Marinette strode as confidently as she could down the hallway and up the stairs to the second floor. There were more than a couple people wandering down the halls chatting in Italian, and Marinette caught flashes of conversations as she passed them.

It wasn't hard to find the ambassador's office- the embassy had good signage, she would give them that- and Marinette stepped in the open door, coming to a stop in front of Ambassador Bianchi's secretary's desk, where a oddly familiar woman sat.

Lila's mother. And it definitely was Lila's mother because behind her, pinned to a very full corkboard, was a picture of Lila and her mom together with an older couple.

Well. Maybe Lila had been lying about her mother being an ambassador or in any sort of top diplomatic position, but she was at least at the Italian Embassy.

"Ah, you must be Ambassador Bianchi's eleven o'clock appointment," Mrs. Rossi said, giving Marinette a friendly smile. "She said something about a student project?"

"Yes, I'm on my Foreign Relations unit right now and we're supposed to do a project on France's relationship with another country. My Nonna is Italian, so..." Marinette shrugged. It wasn't an entire lie. Even if Lila hadn't been in the picture, Marinette probably would have picked Italy to research. That, or China. "I decided to learn a bit more about the country that side of the family is from."

"How lovely!" Mrs. Rossi exclaimed. She smiled at Marinette. "Now, if you want to take a seat over there to wait, the ambassador will be about five minutes."

"Okay," Marinette said automatically, then paused. Maybe she already had all of the evidence she needed to get Lila in very deep trouble, but she couldn't deny that she was really curious about Lila's mom and what exactly was going on there. "Or, actually- if you're busy or don't want to, that's fine, but could I maybe interview you about what you do at the embassy as well?"

Mrs. Rossi perked up. "Oh, I think I can spare a few minutes for that! I never really get asked about what I do," she confided as Marinette quickly pulled out her camera and attached the microphone to it. "Which I can understand, because everybody always talks about the ambassadors and the ministers and they get the spotlight, but there's plenty of staff behind the scene who make the entire place run smoothly. There's a lot of work involved- I work overtime most days, but that's also because I'm still getting used to this job."

Marinette nodded as she checked both mic and camera to make sure that they were running. "When I was reading up on what an embassy does, it certainly sounded complicated! It's not a huge surprise that there are people behind the scenes making sure that everything gets done."

"It might surprise you how many people that information does surprise." Mrs. Rossi considered Marinette again, pausing. Marinette tried to not stiffen up. Had Mrs. Rossi realized who she was? "Forgive me for prying, but I'm curious- shouldn't you be at school right now? Did they give you a pass so that you could do the interviews?"

Marinette shook her head, feeling herself starting to relax. Maybe Lila had decided that her mom might be suspicious or decide to move her to another school if she reported any problems- real or imaginary- to her and so hadn't mentioned Marinette at all. "I'm being homeschooled at the moment- or, rather, I'm enrolled in an online school for the rest of collège."

"Oh, that's quite nice," Mrs. Rossi commented, perking up. "And smart, considering the akuma attacks here in Paris! My daughter's collège was closed for several months because of akuma attacks there- or maybe it was just one akuma who was taking forever to defeat, I don't remember- and I do worry about how that's going to impact her education. I'd have her switch schools, but I worry that other schools would have the same problem and the one she's at is quite highly rated." She sighed. "And Lila seems to have made quite a few friends there, and she's gotten a boyfriend, so I don't want to make her switch and I hadn't had the time to look into other options anyway."

...okay, this was interesting. It also answered the question of how Lila's mom hadn't noticed her skipping school for months on end, but Marinette was really wondering how busy Mrs. Rossi was if she hadn't even looked into Lila's claims. One simple Google search, and she would have found out that no such long-term akuma existed.

She also had questions about the boyfriend claim. Something told Marinette that Lila had probably claimed that she was dating Adrien, who was likely to be less than happy about that claim.

"Huh, I hadn't heard any news about any collèges being closed because of akuma," Marinette said instead of questioning anything, shrugging one shoulder. "Odd. But getting back on track..." She made a show of getting the camera properly lined up, then peered over the top. "Can you tell me what you do here at the embassy?"

Marinette was prepared.

Over the past couple of weeks, with Adrien's help and a bit of an assist from her family's lawyer, she had debunked pretty much all of Lila's lies. She had printed out pages of evidence and compiled video clips from the interviews she had done on flash drives. The lawsuits- both against the school and against Lila specifically- had just been filed, and Madam Chamack would be breaking the story that morning, while Marinette went in to confront Ms. Bustier and Lila.

Everything was ready, all of her evidence packed into her bag the previous evening, and Marinette was doing breathing exercises while waiting to head into the school. Her family's lawyer, several members of the school board, a substitute teacher, and a truancy officer were all waiting downstairs in the bakery, and would be accompanying her over.

A ding from her phone caught Marinette's attention, and she pulled it out of her purse. On-screen, there was a message from Adrien.

Looking forward to seeing you! You'll do great :)

Smiling, Marinette tapped out a quick reply before sending it and heading downstairs. Nerves were really building in her stomach now, but she pushed them back down. She had faced akumas and supervillains before. This would be a piece of cake.

"The bell has rung," Madam Rochefort commented, glancing up from her tablet. "Let's head over in five, to give people time to settle down."

Ms. Boutin flashed a grin at Madam Rochefort. "It's so odd, seeing you deliberately planning to make a scene during classes. Normally you're all about pulling teachers aside before or after school."

"They decided to make the accusations and expulsion a public spectacle, so I'm not going to grant them the privilege of resolving their problems in private." Madam Rochefort smiled at Marinette. "And I certainly couldn't deny Miss Dupain-Cheng here the satisfaction of throwing all of her evidence in her class's face."

Marinette smiled at that. She had been a little worried with all of the officials that had gotten involved that she wouldn't be able to carry out her (admittedly somewhat petty) plan, but they had been willing to accommodate her.

Five minutes later, they were marching over to the school. Ms. Boutin knocked on the large doors sharply, then stepped back to wait for an answer. Seconds later, Mr. Haprèle opened the doors, annoyed look giving way to confusion.

"Good morning, we're from the school board," Madam Rochefort announced, ushering Marinette in ahead of her and flashing her ID at . "We've come to speak to a couple of the teachers and your principal."

Mr. Haprèle nodded, stepping to the side to let them in even as the confused look stayed on his face. Marinette led the way up to Ms. Bustier's classroom, excitement mounting in every step.

She could do this. Everything was labeled so there was no chance of her messing anything up. There was no need to go into detail for anything if she didn't want to. For once, other people could exert some actual effort and look at the evidence she had helpfully gathered for them instead of her having to explain each and every piece.

"Go get 'em," Ms. Boutin told Marinette, patting her arm. "And we're right here, waiting for our cue. They won't be able to ignore you this time."

Nodding, Marinette put on her Ladybug face, then turned towards the door. With one last deep breath, she shoved open the door, sending it flying open and drawing every student's eye to her as she strode into the classroom, confidence in every step.

"Marinette!" Ms. Bustier exclaimed, rising from her desk at the front. There was a frown on her face. "What are you doing here? You've been expelled, you're not allowed on school property, especially during school hours-"

Marinette's fierce expression cut her off. "Actually, I'm here to contest my expulsion. I think you'll find that none of the requirements for expulsion were even met. Additionally-" Marinette started digging in her bag, a frown flashing across her face as she realized that it might be a bit difficult to pull things out of her bag.

"I can hold your bag, Marinette!" Adrien offered at once, sliding out of his seat and coming up front to join her, taking her bag and flashing her an encouraging smile. You've got this.

"Thank you, Adrien." Marinette returned his smile, then returned to her earlier intensity. "As I was saying- no procedure was followed. The decision to expel me was entirely based on claims made by a lying, thieving, completely untrustworthy liar."

Lila gasped theatrically from her seat, which- surprise, surprise- was now next to Alya, in Marinette's old spot. "You're still trying to call me a liar? Just because you're jealous-"

Marinette cut her off, pulling the first stack of packets out of her bag while staring Lila down. "Evidence that Lila was lying about saving Jagged Stone's cat and knowing him at all. Almost all of which is public information, if anyone had bothered to look." She slammed the first packet down on Ms. Bustier's desk. "That she was lying about knowing Prince Ali." Another slam. "And that literally all of her supposed involvement in charity work and other organizations is a lie, as are all of the other connections that she claimed to have and that I'm not even going to dignify naming."

This slam was even louder. There were several flinches around the room. Lila was starting to look a little less confident, her eyes darting towards Ms. Bustier.

"And, most importantly." Marinette's eyes flashed back to Ms. Bustier, who was looking very taken aback. "Which the teachers here really should have looked into properly, instead of just blindly believing Lila. She was lying about being out of Paris at all and was using posters as her background when she called us, which should have been obvious to anyone with eyes, because there were exactly zero pedestrians or cars behind her. I found all of the posters she used with a very simple reverse photo search."

There were gasps at that, and Ms. Bustier pressed a hand to her chest, looking over at Lila.

"Additionally, as if the posters weren't enough, I have interviews with both Ladybug and Mrs. Rossi that confirm that Lila was in Paris for the entirety of the time that she claimed to be traveling." Marinette reached in the bag one more time, pulling out her flash drive. Lila had gone pale at that, and oh, it was so satisfying. "Those were both very interesting, actually. Ladybug told me that the first time she had ever heard of Lila was when she saw the Ladyblog video where Lila was claiming to be her best friend, and that Lila has hated her for calling her out of the lies. Additionally, Lila has deliberately gotten in the way of the superheroes during akuma battles in order to sabotage them, and she was in Paris on Heroes' Day as Volpina, who made the illusions of Ladybug and Chat Noir fighting."

There were gasps at that. Marinette was not done.

"And on top of that, Ladybug saw Lila throwing a book into the trash- a book that Lila stole from Adrien." Marinette's eyes narrowed at Lila, whose mouth was opening and closing wordlessly. "Because she had gotten what she wanted out of it, also known as the fake Fox Miraculous that she had just bought from a Gabriel shop."

"Which, I might add, she tried to pass off as the real Fox Miraculous right away," Adrien chimed in from next to her. "And that necklace was the same one that she said was from her grandmother and she claimed that Marinette stole."

"And, if that isn't enough, Mrs. Rossi thought that Lila was staying home because the school was closed due to an extended akuma attack," Marinette finished, a smirk flashing across her face at the look of pure panic that flashed across Lila's face. Clearly she had thought that Marinette was bluffing about meeting her mother."Because Lila told her that the principal was akumatized and therefore the school was closed." Against her better judgment, Marinette's eyes flashed towards Alya for a moment. "How's that for research and evidence, hmmm?"

"I- no-" Lila attempted, clearly scrambling to pull herself together. "That is- a misrepresentation of what- Marinette is just making things up, she's just jealous and bitter that I didn't let her bully me-"

"I have video evidence, Lila," Marinette told her, using her best cold, no-nonsense, I-am-a-superhero-and-you-WILL-listen-to-me voice. She could see several people shrink back, intimidated. "And an entire pile of evidence to disprove your other lies. And..." She reached into her bag for her final folder, opening it up and pulling out another packet before striding over to Lila and slapping it down on the desk in front of her. "A lawsuit against you, for slander with malicious intent."

"But Lila can't get in trouble with the law," Max protested from the back of the room. "She has diplomatic immunity because of her mother."

Marinette smirked at that. Lila was really wilting now. "Top diplomats might get diplomatic immunity for their families, sure. But the secretary for the ambassador certainly doesn't get immunity for her family."

There were gasps at that.

"Additionally, diplomatic immunity can be waived by the family member or the home country even if it did apply," Mr. Bernard announced, stepping into the classroom. "Which we have seen before, and if it had applied in this case, I'm sure we would see it again."

"Who are you?" Ms. Bustier asked, stepping forward. "This all seems like a lot of disruption, we are a school-"

"I am a truancy officer, and Ms. Rossi here is in quite a bit of trouble. Skipping multiple months of school is definitely grounds for punishment, particularly when I suspect that she forged her mother's signature on the school leave forms." Mr. Bernard flashed a doubtful look at Ms. Bustier. "If, of course, there was even an attempt at following procedure in that case."

Ms. Bustier flushed. "We- we were told it was a very last-minute trip, and that Mrs. Rossi was quite busy, and we wanted to be accommodating, so we waited until after the return to really push for ..."

"Procedure is not optional. It is there for a reason, to keep things like this from happening." Mr. Bernard did not look impressed, but he jerked his chin at Lila. "Ms. Rossi. Your mother has been contacted and is on her way. Collect your things at once."

Lila glanced around frantically, rather like a cornered rabbit, but all of her classmates were glaring at her. Slowly, she gathered up her things, picking up the lawsuit notice last, and then headed out after Mr. Bernard, dragging her feet the entire way.

There was a pause.

"It- well, it seems as though I owe you an apology, Marinette," Ms. Bustier finally said, sinking back into her seat. "I should have looked into things more thoroughly instead of letting them slide. I'll get your expulsion wiped off of your record at once, and you can return right away."

"Actually, I won't be returning to Francois-Dupont," Marinette informed her, ignoring the gasps from the class in favor of fishing out the last of her forms and setting it on Ms. Bustier's desk. "My parents don't think that the environment here is conducive to my learning experience, and they don't trust that there will be enough change in the remainder of the year to satisfy them."

Ms. Bustier reached across the desk for the form at once, her eyes going wide as she took in the top page. It was another lawsuit, this one against the school for not following proper procedure for expulsion and for failing to protect their students from a bully.

Marinette had been a little unsure about the last bit, but the school board had pointed out that, had any of the teachers looked into things, Mr. Bourgeois didn't actually have the power to punish the school for properly disciplining Chloe, and even if they couldn't be bothered to look that much up, they at the very least could have separated Chloe and Marinette into different homerooms instead of placing them together for so many years in a row. It wouldn't have been possible to place them in different classrooms every year- after all, Chloe bullied everyone- but getting a break every other year shouldn't have been too much to expect.

Having adults standing up to Chloe instead of leaving students to do that themselves shouldn't have been too much to expect, either.

"I'll be rejoining the class for lycée, but not before," Marinette added, because she could hear Rose starting to sniffle. "And I can hang out with you guys whenever, but my parents aren't at all happy with the administration here."

Rose managed a small smile when Marinette glanced her way, nodding in understanding.

"Speaking of people being unhappy with the administration, we need to speak to you, Ms. Bustier," Madam Rochefort announced, sticking her head through the door. She stepped aside to let the substitute teacher who they had brought in. "We'll go to Mr. Damocles' office, if you could."

Ms. Bustier nodded, even paler as she followed Madam Rochefort out. Marinette took that as her cue to leave as well, tucking her empty folder back into her bag and taking it back from Adrien. He was smiling at her, proud and a little sad at the same time.

"We'll miss seeing you during class," Adrien murmured in her ear as he slid Marinette's bag over her head, arranging it at her side before pressing a quick kiss to the side of her head. "But I know I'll visit as often as I can. For both the company and the food."

"Our door is always open for you," Marinette promised, trying not to flush and probably failing. Adrien was too cute for her blood pressure sometimes. "And you have my number, too. If you want to come over during lunch, too, you can."

Adrien perked up at that as he escorted her to the door. "I might end up never leaving if you keep inviting me over, just so you know."

Marinette giggled. As though she would actually ever complain about that. "We'll make up a bed for you."

"Very tempting." Adrien smiled at her, then glanced back into the classroom. The substitute teacher was looking back at him. "I have to go, but see you later?"

"Of course." With a final wave, Marinette stepped back, watching Adrien head back into the classroom before turning herself and heading back out of the school. She was by herself now, the school board members and lawyer and truancy officer all busy, but that didn't matter. She had done what she had come to school to do. The expulsion would be wiped from Marinette's record, and the faculty at Dupont would be given the help and training they needed to be far better teachers for the next set of students to come through and all of the students after them, too. On top of that, Lila had been taken down, her following gone and her reputation in shatters. With any luck, she would be removed from Paris entirely in order to keep her from getting akumatized again.

Hopefully her next set of teachers would be given a heads-up about Lila's tendency to make up stories so that no one else would have to go through the same thing that Marinette just had.

Humming to herself, Marinette paused at the crosswalk, waiting for the light to change. She had taken down one schoolyard bully and made life in Paris just that little bit better for everyone.

And now that that was over... well, now that she had more free time, she could turn her attention to a much bigger target. Hawkmoth had better beware, because before long, Ladybug was going to be on his case.

#Miraculous Ladybug #My writing #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #Pants on Fire

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eleanorbloom · 4 years

Text

When You’re Ready Ch. 08

Pairing: Bryce Lahela x f! MC (Eleanor Bloom) x Ethan Ramsey.

Word Count: 4.5k

Warning: Angst, cursing.

Summary: Bryce has decided to let go Eleanor because she’s in love with Ethan Ramsey. But a turn in her relationship with the attending might change Bryce’s plans.

A/N: To the people who still is reading this story, thank you! Things are going to get juicy from now on, so I hope you are all prepared! (And I hope things in the book get really juicy too. I’m still recovering from last week’s chapter omg. My heart will never be the same after what Ethan told to MC :( (And I don’t even want to think about Bryce. My babyyyyyyyyyyyyy is so precious!)

Well, well, well. Hope you enjoy today’s chapter!

Taglist @utterlyinevitable @shanzay44 @choicesficwriterscreations @laiba-the-person @starrystarrytrouble @lahellacute @lucy-268 @aylamreads @binny1985 @romewritingshop

Let me know if you wanna be added to my taglist!

________

Chapter 8: Me cuesta tanto olvidarte.

Y aunque fui yo quien decidió que ya no más (And even though it was me who decided we were through)

Y no me canse de jurarte que no habrá segunda parte (And I didn't tire of swearing to you that there wouldn't be a second chance)

Me cuesta tanto olvidarte (It's so hard for me to forget you)

As much as he tried to avoid that moment, there he was, both feet on the grounds of Boston Logan International Airport. After two months in the Amazon, he was back at the place he wanted so much to escape, only to return with empty hands, with his personal mission failed.

His heart was feeling like there were never eight weeks since he left Boston, and was aching as much as the night they said goodbye. He had left for nothing. He wanted a reset, but he wasn't sure if that's what he got there.

Even if he tried every day to get her off his head, the most nonsensical things would remind him of her.

The sparkling eyes of the children seemed attached to the memories of her giving him the shiniest smiles he had ever seen.

The carefree nature of a young woman would remind him of her youthful spirit, a trait he had grown to appreciate since the moment he knew her, but that he had failed to preserve in the last months, due to his erratic attitude towards her.

And if there was nothing that reminded him of her during the day, there would always be a sparkle at the end of the day, just about to sleep, that would explode in his mind like a firework. Whether it be the feeling of her hands touching his face, his hair, his bare chest; or the feeling of her soft lips giving him life after a searing kiss.

Whether it be her amber eyes illuminating the darkness of his mind and waking him up to a trance of vivid memories and feelings of happiness and joy. Vivid memories of something that were long gone and that couldn’t be back; or her laugh invading his ears and making him jolt as if it was the painful hallucination of a schizophrenic mind, and swear she was just laughing by her side when the truth was they were thousands of miles away.

Some nights he would toss and turn in bed, wondering what would she be doing; if he had broken her more than he was aware; if what he had done was right; if all this was really about her or about his fears and the ablaze belief that he would never be worthy of her because he could never give her everything she deserved. Wondering if all this was always about the fact that since he was a child, he never felt worthy of love.

He honestly couldn’t know.

He didn’t know how to face a truth that had been carrying his whole adult life, and he wasn’t sure it was now the time to explore those feelings. It didn’t make sense now.

Some other nights he would lay remembering her, but the tiredness would be like morphine to his mind, sending him to sleep just as his head would touch the pillow. The memories of her wouldn’t haunt him like a ghost all night, the guilt wouldn’t eat him alive, there would only be a full night’s sleep, with physical recovery but with the same burden on his mind.

After three weeks, however, he had convinced himself that he had done the right thing. That she would eventually move on, that she would let him in the past and all this bad road would be over soon. But the hollowness somewhere inside him reminded him every time, that it wasn’t what he wanted, that he didn’t want it that way.

There was another way, but he was a coward.

Deep inside, he was hoping that the distance between them wouldn't make an effect like he intended to. He wanted it to fail. That her love was stronger than that. That that strongness was the proof he needed to push himself towards her, to fight for her, to hold her and never let her go again.

But then he would remember that all that he had been doing the last months, was for her, and only to protect her. That this self-sabotage would only damage her career. He couldn’t let that happen.

Ethan was having dinner at the ranch in the company of the owner, a Colombian elder woman who had spent her entire life receiving tourists that came to the rainforest from all places, and that had taught her the basics in various languages to communicate with them, English above all.

She had observed him for weeks. He noticed he was taciturn, thoughtful, that would never involve in small talk, so she had decided to respect his privacy and his love for silent meals. But he looked too troubled that night to ignore it.

“Are you in love, doctor?”—The woman asked, interrupting the dissection of his own thoughts.

“I beg your pardon?”—He replied, a bit startled for the intromission.

“I have lived long enough to know, by the look in your eyes, that you are in love. And that you would do anything to deny it, but it’s a stupid try, mi niño.”

He remained silent.

“I know you the yankees only care about work and money. You as a doctor are more human than others because you are here,”—She splayed her arms in the air, trying to sum up in a single gesture the greatness of the Amazon— “but for the same reason, you deprive yourself of the more important things in life as family and love.”

“Saving lives is the more important thing to me.”

“I know that. You have no family, no partner because your job goes first. But you are in love and I bet you are keeping the person you love away from you. Maybe that’s the reason why you are here, in the first place.”

“I didn’t know people in the Amazon were diviners.”

“We are not, but I have lived enough to see too many people coming here to forget, and that had failed.”

Ethan stared at her, thoughtful, not even sure if he would address her accusations.

“So, I am right?”

There was no point in denying. He would be gone in three weeks and then he wouldn’t see her again. He wasn’t risking anything.

“Yes, you are.”—He finally admitted.

“And Medicine has not taught you anything, doctor?”

“What do you mean?”

“You see life and death every day. You know the value of life and how easy it goes. Being a doctor is a tough job, but as someone who knows about the meaning of life and death more than any other person, you don’t seem to put into practice everything you have learned: To live and love ”

“It’s not that simple”

“It is simple. You have no idea how simple it is. I only hope you don’t learn it the hard way, when you lose your chance. I have seen it so many times, you wouldn’t believe me.”

The friendly silence joined the tabled again, leaving Ethan more pensive than before.

Maybe the elder woman was right, but Ethan was never a man of sentimentalism, of searching the meaning in things. He only wanted to seek the truth in life, how things were based only on facts. And the truth in this situation was that he had to stay away from Eleanor to protect her reputation and her career. There was no point in trying to find an alternative answer to that. The truth about them was absolute.

Still, he couldn’t stop thinking of her words.

Ethan force himself to come back to reality as entered in the baggage reclaim area of the airport. Once it was all collected, he took a cab to his apartment.

Once he was there, he took a shower, unpacked his luggage, and drop off his clothes from the trip at the laundry service on his way to the hospital.

The sun was already set when he met Naveen at his office.

“Ethan, my boy, I’m so happy you’re back safe”—He greeted giving him a hug that Ethan replied coyly.

“Good to see you, Naveen. How have you been?”

“Incredibly well, the weather has been so nice. And my position as Chief gives me more time to enjoy the sun, so I’m incredibly well with the amount of vitamin D I have absorbed these past weeks.”

“I can see it. You’re more joyful than usual.”

“Not just because of the sun, but because you’re back. I sincerely missed you, my friend”

Ethan nodded in a way that Naveen interpreted as he felt the same.

“How was Manaus, well, and the rainforest in general?”

Ethan updated him about his trip, describing the streets and highlights of the city in detail, and after that, he followed up with his labor with the WHO, and how things were when he left.

The origin of the epidemic had been found in a river that rises in Colombia and flows to the Amazon River, in the middle of Brazil. The Amazon River was the biggest in South America and its size was the reason it had caused nothing less than an outbreak just in a few weeks.

Just before Ethan left, the development of a vaccine had started, as a variant from the Malaria’s; therefore, in the next three months it was expected to be tested and by the end of the year, it was expected to be produced. He wasn’t sure if the WHO would call him for another Mission, but Naveen would be fully aware of that in case they would.

The hospital was quiet when both mentor and protégé left the office. They parted ways in the parking lot. Naveen, to go to his car, and Ethan, to walk down the street towards Donahue’s to say hi to Reggie.

He needed a drink to feel he was really back in Boston. At Edenbrook. But deep down, he wanted to go there because he hoped she would be at the bar. There was no way she wouldn’t be with her friends celebrating their last day as interns and welcoming the first day as second-year residents.

His pace was slower than usual for multiple reasons. First, because he wanted to enjoy the warm night Boston was welcoming him with; second, because he wasn’t going there to kill the tension of a day’s work, just to enjoy the night. And third, because some part of him was afraid of what he would find there. If she was there. If his face would betray him even if he had mastered the stoicism long before he met her.

“Don’t teaser her, Jackie! I still have nightmares about that Ethics Hearing!”—He heard just when he was about to turn to the entry. “If Eleanor had left Edenbrook, I don’t know what we’d done.”

He had no doubt that that sweet and soft voice belonged to Sienna Trihn.

“Stolen her spot in the diagnostics team?”

And that snarky retort was from Jackie Varma.

“Oh. My God”—The tiny resident said once her eyes caught him at the entry.—“He looks so different.”

She didn’t even lower her voice as she acknowledged him. And he didn’t care. As soon as he realized where Sienna and her friends were, his eyes couldn’t help but search for her eyes.

“What are you talkin-“—Eleanor turned and her mumbling stopped right away as their eyes met. Her confused amber eyes went stunned in an instant.

“Rookie”—Was all he could say to not let his feelings betray him. The sole sight of her was painful enough to try something else.

“It's good to have you back, Dr. Ramsey”—She murmured, her voice distant. Like she wasn’t even conscious of her words, like she wasn’t saying them, and an automat had taken hostage of her body.

Even though she knew he would be back tomorrow, it was clear she didn’t expect to see him tonight.

“Yeah… Good to be back”—He tried to remain serene, but for a second his eyes faltered on her with a torn expression.

He hesitated for a moment before keep walking towards the main bar.

***

She felt like someone was turning the volume up in her head. The chatting of her friends, the clinking glasses, the laugh of people, the cars passing by, the music on the jukebox inside. All was too fucking loud on her head.

The bubble that had alienated her from the outside had popped just the moment she met eyes with Ethan. Every sound was irritating to her. Every laugh, every word, every passing car. Her heart beating fast, her agitated breath. All the noises were multiplying.

Still, she didn’t even know how she found the strength to reply to him. It didn’t sound like her at all. It was like she was observing herself outside his body, the obvious first-hand and only witness of her own autoscopy.

“Relax”—Bryce said in a jokingly tone when Ethan was out of sight—Ramsey might not be my type, but damn, I felt things too.”

All her friends burst out in laughs, trying to alleviate the tension.

“No one can deny that the man's his appeal, and with that makeover, oof. Total heartbreaker”—Conceded Jackie.

But she was barely conscious of what their friends were saying. Just as he entered the bar, she felt disoriented. Lost. The volume in her head started to turn down, silencing her from the noises around her. Like the earth had stopped rotating and she was caught in the middle of her own thoughts.

She didn’t expect that. She had come to terms with the fact that she would see him tomorrow, at Edenbrook, but she absolutely wasn’t prepared to see him tonight. At the bar. She should have known.

Then, she heard her name somewhere. Somewhere very, very far. And after that, a warm caress in her back shook her out of her stupor.

“Elle, are you okay?”

She looked up. All her friends were trying to catch her attention, and Sienna was staring at her with her brows furrowed in concern.

“Ellie…”

“Yeah, sorry, guys, I think the beer went to my head.”

Eleanor felt a warm caress against her back again.

“Babe, are you okay? D’you need a moment?”—He whispered, leaning carefully towards her.

“No, no, I’ll be fine.”

Bryce didn’t look so convinced.

She looked at him in the eyes, knowing that it would ease her mind. She smiled. It had worked. But she knew she couldn’t spend her life being wrapped to Bryce to feel calm, that she couldn’t run to his arms every time she felt something for Ethan. She had to face the pain, the fear, she needed to confront him to really be over Ethan. She had to do it alone with all the pain it was involved in.

“I’m okay, really”—She reassured, his lips quirking a bit to resemble a smile.

He nodded.

She wanted to be okay, because the last thing she had on her mind, was to make a scene, just as the last time she saw Ethan. No, she had to grow up. The days where she would drown in sadness and ‘what ifs’ were over. She had to handle the situation like the adult she was.

But it wasn’t that easy. Even though she rejoined the conversation with her friends, after an hour she really felt the need to have a moment.

“Sienna, care to join me?”

“Of course, Ellie”—She replied getting up from the bench.

The walked carelessly towards the bar, Eleanor trying to ignore completely the presence of Ethan sitting on his usual spot.

“Are you okay?”—She asked once she closed the door behind her.

“I… I’ve been better.”—She confessed, leaning against the wall.—It’s just… I wasn’t expecting to see him today, tonight, here. I made my mind I would see him tomorrow. But well, that’s how things went.”

“It was so shocking, for all of us. Mostly because of that makeover. I swear I thought I was confusing him with another person”

“Like a extremely hot twin brother of him?”

“Kinda, yeah”

They both laughed.

“That’s torture. How can he appear here like that and expect me to stay away?”

“Eleanor…”

“Sienna, I’m teasing”

“I wouldn’t be so sure.”

“But I am. And I can’t even think about doing something with Bryce here.”

Eleanor shook her head.

“Ah, poor Bryce. He’s all in the comforting mood but I know it hurts him.”

“Maybe, but he’s actually worried about you.”

“Why he has to be so selfless? I don’t deserve it.”—She protested —He has been an angel with me this whole time. And this stupid asshole appears, and I fell to the ground like a whiny stupid.”

“Ellie, he knows what he’s dealing with. And I know he’ll be wise enough to leave when his time is over. I just hope that doesn’t happen, and that he gets his happy ending with you.”

“You don’t think I want the same? I want it. But it doesn’t matter what I want when the person I’m in love with it’s not him.”

There was silence. Sienna looked at Eleanor. She was pissed off, but not defeated like before. That was progress.

“Okay. Let’s focus.—Sienna exclaimed with renewed energy, trying to comfort her friend—"The things are this way: You’re still not over Ethan, but if you want to, you will. And you’ll do it by stop having hopes. You’ll focus on the good. On Bryce. On the beautiful moments you two have had. And as long as Ethan doesn’t say ‘Eleanor, I love you, let’s be together’, your situation with him is the same as it was when he left. It’s done. Terminated. Over. Okay?”

“Okay, yes. Yes. Crystal clear.”

“Pinky promise?”

“Pinky promise”—She replied as her pinky locked Sienna’s.

A few moments later they returned to the table. Jackie had brought a new round of beers. Eleanor took her seat next to Bryce, and without a moment’s hesitation, she brought her lips to his cheek and kissed him softly.

He stared at her a bit confused. That day, at the beach, they agreed to be more discreet with their relationship now that Ramsey was back. Somehow, she wouldn’t feel comfortable that he could know about them when nothing was settled, and she didn’t want to provoke a response in him by jealousy or make him doubt her feelings for him. That way, they would return to their habitual friendly interaction in public spaces, but their relationship remained the same. Therefore, that show of affection in public was against their agreement.

“What was that for?”

“You just deserve a kiss for being so cute with me.”

He smiled.

“In that case, I deserve more than a kiss on my cheek, don’t you think?”

She shook her head and brushed her lips into his.

“Better?”

“Much better”

They continued their chatting through the night until Reggie announced he was about to close. Eleanor and her friends collected their used jars and went to the bar to give them to Reggie. Ethan was still by the bar and apparently, he had no intention to leave soon.

“What? Last call doesn't apply to you?”—She asked, her words coming out of her mouth incautiously. Like nothing had happened. Like the two months they didn’t see each other never existed.

“Reggie and I go way back. We have an arrangement.”

“An arrangement?”—She snorted— “Is that what you call friendship?”

“I don’t have friends, but I wouldn’t mind you joining me if you were so inclined.”

“Say it. You want me to join you?”—She defied.

He stared at her seriously for a few seconds.

“I do.”

Eleanor turned to her friends

“I’ll stay for a while to check in about tomorrow with Dr. Ramsey.”

“Okay”—Sienna replied—"Just don’t stay out too late... Aurora's dropping off the rest of her stuff before work tomorrow.”

Eleanor nodded and her eyes directed to Bryce. He winked at her before turning to the door, but she could have sworn his smile fainted the very moment he turned.

“Well, we've got ourselves a brand new Ethan Ramsey.”—She stated, approaching him at the bar.—"You took the reset thing seriously.”

He gave him a painful look and scratched the back of his neck.

“Why don’t we move outside?”—He suggested, trying to diffuse his tension—"It'll be winter before we know it. Might as well enjoy the weather while we can.”

Ethan took a half-drunk bottle of nice scotch and head out to the empty beer garden, taking a seat beside a small fire pit.

“So… how have you been?”

“As good as it can be, given the circumstances there.”

“Yeah, I figure. I’m sure you went through a lot there.”

Ethan nodded. Thinking that he indeed went through a lot there, but maybe not the kind she had in mind.

“What about you?”—He inquired after a brief reflection.

“I’m doing great. Excited that intern year has finished. And tomorrow is my first day on the big leagues”

“Yeah. You start with the DT. Time has passed so fast”

“Certainly.”

Then, the silence made its presence. They stayed still to study each other subtly. Ethan couldn't decipher what, but there was something different in her that had nothing to do with the passing of time. It wasn’t the hair, her summerly outfit, or something physical. It was something in the way she was looking at him, in the way she was speaking, and even in her gestures, that made him realize she wasn't the same he had left eight weeks ago. There was something familiar about her manners, but he wasn't sure what it was.

And after an eternity of silence and endless questions inside his head, she finally spoke.

“Why you didn’t reply or call back… or said anything?”

All Ethan could think was if she was interested in asking that, it meant there was something still there. That maybe she still cared for him.

“Eleanor…”

“I had to ask Banerji to know me if you were okay. Don’t you think it isn’t unfair?”

“I know, he told me.”

“It was a fucking message, Ethan. Just ‘I’m okay’, just that, I wasn’t expecting a report. Just a fucking reply.”

“I know. I’m so…”

She raised her hand, stopping him midsentence.

“Please, don’t. If you were truly sorry, you wouldn’t have done it in the first place. It was so simple.”

“I needed to walk away…”

“Yes, I know, but this has nothing to do with that. With your so-called self-control. Cause I don’t know how much self-control you can compromise by sending a couple of words. It’s not like you can lose it being thousands of miles away from me. But, of course, the fault is always mine for expecting some decency from you.”

“You were worried?”

“How can you ask something like that? Of course I was worried! Epidemics are unpredictable and much riskier to doctors.”

She shook her head.

“I really hoped our conversation would’ve made sense to you. But no. Nothing’s changed. You can’t even be a decent friend or colleague.”

He remained silent.

Eleanor took a sip of the scotch, and then breathed heavily with her eyes closed. After a few moments, she opened them with renewed energy.

“Well, no point in dwelling in the past. Let’s talk about tomorrow.”

Her words caught him by surprise. The way she just shook off of his mistake was new. He expected she would give him hell for at least fifteen minutes, but apparently she had more important things to discuss.

“Okay, what do you want to know”—He said, finally.

“What should I know?”

“Well, once the meeting with all the other residents is done, you have to go to the Diagnostics Team office, to join us for the daily meeting. We’ll be discussing a new case too. A few hours ago, the hospital informed me that we are receiving a patient from Manhattan Presbyterian, so that will be your first case as Fellow Member.”

“Excellent. Anything I need to know about the other members?”

“I leave it to you, so you don’t meet them biased from what I tell you”—There was some strange tint in his sight, something mischievous Eleanor couldn’t decipher.

“I think you’re being tricky with the answer.”

Ethan chuckled.

“I’m not. Tomorrow you’ll have your first impressions on the members. It’ll be fine.”

“I suppose”—She sounded tense.

“You’ll do it great, Rookie. You had an excellent performance in your first year, and you made a diagnosis neither your boss nor your boss’s boss couldn’t make, so, that’s quite impressive. You deserve the spot.”

“That’s because I learned from the best.”

And there it was again, the silent longing in their eyes. The intense looks, the pain, the restraint. The alternated gaze between lips and eyes. It seemed like the dynamics from past months were about repeat again. Eleanor succumbing to her feelings, asking for a chance, breaking their boundaries just to have one more kiss, and lose herself in the same old lie with the same old ending. And just like before, Ethan would fall too. As if eight weeks hadn’t passed. As if the time and distance hadn't done their part.

But things had changed. He had no idea how much things had changed.

Because after what it felt an eternity, she just smiled at him shyly and then looked away from him at slow-motion speed. Or that’s how Ethan saw things in his disappointed mind.

Then she took her glass, her hand almost imperceptibly shaky, and drank the remained scotch on it.

Ethan froze for a moment, completely surprised at her reaction, and then turned to the table, sipping his drink too. His mind still was wondering why it was being so easy for her to just look away and don’t dare to kiss him. He was back after two months out and she didn’t even want to kiss him.

“Good thing you’re back just when summer is beginning, so you don’t end up freezing for changing temperatures.”

Ethan couldn’t repress the astonishment when he noticed Eleanor was using the small-talk card. They had never had small talks before. She always had something to comment, some insight to share, even something to recriminate him with. But now there was nothing of it.

Maybe it was her last resource to avoid something utterly stupid or senseless like kissing him. He couldn’t really blame her.

“Yes, glad I can catch some sun. Vitamin D has worked wonders in Naveen. But he’s too cheerful for my liking.”

“Ethan, Dr. Banerji has always been too cheerful for your liking.”

“Well, yeah, but he is annoyingly cheerful now, and summer is just beginning”

“May the Force be with you”—Eleanor joked, getting up from the bench.—“Well, I’m going home now. Tomorrow’s my first day and I have to come up as fresh as a daisy.”

Ethan smiled faintly at her.

“Goodnight Rookie, I see you tomorrow”

“Night Ethan, see ya”

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