#it's probably technically an au because i am not caught up on either anime or manga and frankly don't really care | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jae-canikeepyou · 4 years

Text

| closer | j.jh

pair: jaehyun x fem!reader

genre: au + idol!jae & choreographer/dancer!yn

a/n: this request is long overdue but here it is! :) i’m sorry for the long wait ;-; it’s challenging to write since i’m not a dancer so my explanation’s a lil’ suckish. also! i had to edit a song remix for this oneshot, so the dance and imagination’s clearly up to you *wink wink* enjoy reading! ~j

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though you lost count of the frequent, unexplainable somersaults you experienced in your stomach, you weren’t sure whether this always happen whenever you were told to join other dancers to monitor a routine for a group. perhaps it was just you, that today felt entirely different compared to when you first started.

as far as your career went, this was the only time you felt so stressed. and by ‘stressed’, it didn’t mean that the boys’ couldn’t get the steps right— they were fast learners and the choreography you helped co-create wouldn’t be a problem to them.

nct 127’s rehearsals were at a spacious backstage for straight two days now. in those short days, there was a certain air that lingered and you couldn’t fathom it properly. with you around, the boys would suddenly crowd in a circle, anywhere in the area, and began to utter out whispers you hoped your ears were able to hear. maybe if you were reincarnated, you’d choose an animal with great hearing to be able to hear what they were saying.

and honestly it got you wanting to pull your hair out because.. what if?

what if they disliked how you were a person of few words during practice? or that they preferred if you gave more feedbacks toward their dance like other choreographers who came before you? there weren’t any hints leading to the source of action and really, if this was an actual investigation you’d be removed from the team for not having quick-wits.

taeyong immediately became your close friend right when you were introduced to them by your seniors. he had this you-can-tell-me-anything aura all over him and was the only person you always conversed with among the boys. given that you were part of the choreo team since kick-it era, the boys welcomed you; like so much. but in those greetings, a gut feeling kept bothering you that you would be pulled into something.. perhaps something you might not be able to handle? you wouldn’t know. it was a gut feeling anyway, fifty percent of your intuition were always proven wrong.

you stared at the widespread mirror, arms up to record them while examining their moves and rhythms to the beat. they were tired, you could tell with the way they swayed and continuously wipe off the sweat rolling down their temples. so you decided to give them a break after three hours of practice.

replaying the video over and over to check if they got the timing right, taeyong went to sit by your side gulping and squeezing the water bottle. “relax y/n. you’ll get more wrinkles if you keep doing that.” he nudged you gently to catch your full atttention from the phone.

“do what, exactly?” you looked at him, eyebrows furrowed tiredly above your death-gazing eyes.

he poked you with the butt of the cold bottle he held, where beads from it soaked your forehead. “this.” he lectured you again, almost annoying to the ears. “it’s not at all attractive.”

“we both agreed you have better brows than me but ouch that’s rude. i think i’m quite pretty and you know it.” you return a playful poke that had him nearly trampling backwards, a slight sting felt by your ankle once you regained balance.

per usual, you disregarded his innocent comment and continued to monitor the practice via phone. he didn’t mean it and you knew that. taeyong kept bugging you to cool off from work and hang out with them since you were all good friends to begin with. of course that development happened in a span of few months to be able for you all to reach that certain relationship.

however, was it possible to attain the level of intimacy when recently, all you felt from the other guys was the weird gap? you couldn’t even describe the awkward distance. taeyong shook both of his sleeves into sweaterpaws to rub the droplets on your forehead.

“quite pretty? you’re beautiful! you’re like a cool princess every guy wants and i’d honestly date you if what we are isn’t platonic.” he danced in a wave effect with his arm. you gently hit his chest for being very vocal even if it just was the two of you.

“aww, you always know how to make me feel better! thanks.” you sweetly compliment him for a second before your smile turned into a frown.

at the corners of your peripheral, johnny, jungwoo, mark, donghyuck and yuta all averted your scrutiny. the action was obvious and quick, but what made it more suspicious was that it happened respectively like falling dominos. although they did typical and cliché gestures of escapism from your response, still they pretended to ignore you either with their hands shoved in pockets or whistles of their own song.

a surrendering huff caught taeyong’s attention. you never sighed nor show any emotions of distress before and this was a little concerning to him. “what’s wrong y/n?” he turned around to see the others minding their own business despite taeyong already realising the edginess they showed.

“can you help me figure something out with them?” you begged as you tilted your gently slightly to the side. “it’s been weeks and i have no idea why they’re acting this way. am i that unapproachable compared to my seniors?”

taeyong suddenly pursed his lips to a small circle as if he was hiding some top secret information that was ‘exclusive for members only’. “oh- y’know.” he nodded quite repetitively but with hesitating breaks in between. he knew what you were going to ask him since it hasn’t been the first time. he usually could dodge your curiosity and wondered why he couldn’t now. “they’re p-probably just chilling.. like always.. yep.” he popped the ‘p’ and stood. “i’m sure it’s because they’re tired from rehearsals!”

things couldn’t just get any weirder. you squinted your eyes as you scooted in closer to him. “you’re stuttering. you never do that.” you pointed out, observing his wavering eyes. “do you know something-”

he stammered and gently pushed you away a little like it would stop you from asking further. “i-i don’t know what you’re talking a-about.”

“hm you sure about that?” you hummed and he mouthed a ‘yes’. “you don’t know what’s coming after you if i figure it out buddy.”

“i’m sure, y/n. stop being a worrywart.” taeyong pinched your cheeks. “i’ll let know you right away if i hear anything out of the ordinary.”

“uh-huh. jaehyun’s the one i think who’s ’out of the ordinary’. we never talked. just hi’s and bye’s and he doesn’t smile at me.” you commented as you spotted him at the entrance door. “bummer, i really find him good-looking..” your phone buzzed a message from your leader. technically he wasn’t, but a person in-charge of your schedules to teach other idol groups.

somehow you felt a wave of relief that you would be out of the venue for the day. it would be assuring to not be around 127 for a while when they behaved like they did. who knew thinking too much would bring exhaustion? this was more tiring than dancing. a lot more. you swung your phone to taeyong, telling him that you were going to leave. “i gotta go, see you.”

“oh, alright. take care.” taeyong waved subtly, confused as to why you suddenly spoke of jaehyun out of the blue.

you let out a long sigh and exited the venue with thoughts of wonder; they were good people and most definitely you were the approachable type, so why were they keeping distance besides taeyong? johnny, yuta and donghyuck were super friendly, and it’s unlike them to suddenly keep quiet. mark and jungwoo were fun to tease; seeing the expressions they usually don’t put on around you was really fishy. taeil and doyoung have similar affection for you because you were like a little sister and.. jaehyun?

well.. jaehyun’s jaehyun, and among them, he was the far-fetched one. that was what you felt from him,

from the beginning.

because every single time you crossed paths, he would look away right when you locked eyes with him. there was no smile, no expression.

nothing at all.

maybe it pinched your heart a little. and maybe there would be a right time for this. just maybe not today. hopefully that wouldn’t extend for another month. hopefully you would get to talk to him like you did with the rest of them. it was a challenging to be patient when you’ve kind of taken a liking on jaehyun despite the inexplainable treatment. he was.. cute.

once you were out of the group’s sight, jaehyun came in with a duffle bag and a beanie— that basically made his hair in a frenzy- along with taeil & doyoung. he had his arms frantically shaking as if he was trying to reason out. “i can’t hold a normal conversation without tensing up.” he dropped his belongings and joined the crowd, not noticing the growing smirks slowly coming into view from his friends.

“and you think choosing to freeze and stare would make her talk to you?” taeil asked straight up. “that’s called cowardice bro.”

jaehyun combed his hair back and wore his beanie again when the focus was shifted to him. “no it’s not. it’s called being shy.. i guess.” he crossed his arm, unsure of his answer as well.

mark took a sip of watermelon juice, later eyeing a bowl sitting peacefully on one side of the table for seconds. “hyung, do you expect to get closer to y/n if you act like that though?” he gave johnny a side-eye as he hid his smile behind the cup, to whom the latter responded the same.

“all of us are trying to keep quiet of your ecstasy towards her like you asked us to.” jungwoo implored because what was done has to be said eventually. “and now she thinks we’re hiding something from her, i can feel her suspicions for the past weeks.”

“did you make it obvious?” jaehyun hissed a little. “i warned you to act natural-”

johnny wrapped the young man in his arms, earning laughs from the others. “the one who’s not acting natural is you. i thought you’re a straight-forward kind of guy. this should be a piece of cake for you.”

“everyone, please come to the center.” their manager called them to gather up, informing details regarding the next schedule for the week.

sm town concert was just a week away and they’ve been practicing nonstop for it. the exhaustion on their faces fled when the manager said something that would make the fans see them in a different light. some staff giggled at their reactions, some told them to go with it, the rest just wanted to see how it would turn out to be. the boys weren’t expecting it, not at a sudden time like this when they’ve gotten the rundown memorised already.

normally they complied and no arguments were brought forwards. now they managed to scream all vocabularies to reason out that another dance routine would make them more exhausted than before. “we’re not pulling a prank nor a hidden camera if that’s what you’re thinking. anyway, the added part is around a minute interlude.. it’s before the actual track. only one of you will dance it.”

yeses and cheers of relief made majority of the staff exchange looks because they weren’t finish with the information they received. “this interlude is by volunteer, so whoever wants to do it just raise your hand or come up front.” the manager instructed as he wrote down the minutes, later both of his brows arched high forasmuch to his surprise, the decision was quickly decided; it would usually take the boys a while. “oh! thanks for being cooperative, jaehyun! the rehearsal starts tomorrow...”

jaehyun’s head never shot up as fast as it did just now. he didn’t pay attention to the short meeting and since all of the voices were indistinct to him, he was astonished with hearing his name being said. he wondered why they concluded with him doing the interlude. in his head a second ago, he was coming up with plans to finally— and normally— conversate with you. and upon turning around, his friends failed to keep their snickers in. they all simultaneously took a step back, leaving the dimpled boy remain standing in his position.

“...and take ten, then we’ll proceed to the last two songs for today.” the manager left the boys for a break.

wheezing breaths and heavy falls on the floor were soon followed by exploding laughters. they were like fireworks, jolting the nerves out of jaehyun and he rolled his eyes at his friends’ intentions to tease him. “that’s not fair, you guys plotted against me.” he pinched the bridge of his nose when a flush of betrayal finally covered his entire conscience.

they laughed since it was a reaction they expected, but more so when he missed out the most crucial information. “oh my g- he doesn’t know! hahaha!” haechan and jungwoo clung onto each other for support. it was too much to handle.

yuta scooted close to johnny, who had his phone up the whole time. “that was on record, yeah?” he asked and the latter grinned devilishly.

“rgha!” jaehyun growled, soon accepting the role that was predestined to him. “i swear john if you-”

“he didn’t really hear it!” mark cut him off and joined the younger ones, hitting each other and as they couldn’t believe that jaehyun, could be this dense. “wow this is insane!”

jaehyun’s ears turned faint pink. he didn’t like the excessive attention he was getting from his friends, and he has no idea what the sudden outbursts were all about. “hear what, exactly?” he had a petulant expression and shifted his weight on one leg as he waited for the answer.

taeyong choked a giggle at his question. it was similar with yours when you innocently asked earlier. “jaehyun, he said the other half of the remix duet is y/n. you’ll dance with her tomorrow, and until the concert.”

his heart pumped so fast that he didn’t know how to react; whether it was due to obvious fact that he would see you again for the third time this week, or it was your name and his.. in the same sentence.

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if there was something you didn’t like to experience again in your life, that would be spraying your nose in public. good grief, and it had to happen nearby the boys. you shut your eyes closed at the sprinkly yet piercing shock rising up from the nostrils to your head. after few seconds of calming down, youngjoon pat your head as if that would bring you comfort. not really.

“i thought hana’s doing the nct dance duet?” you rubbed the small tears from the corners of your eyes, the striking pain still lingered around your senses a little.

he shrugged that his shoulders the action made you think he has something to do with the sudden change of plans. but assuming too much would ruin your mood and affect the way you dance later, so you let it slide for today.

“i’m your senior. you’ll do what i decided on,” he gave you his phone; the title of the track was one that you were told to choreograph. “it’s about time your monitoring days are over. anyway, you’ll dance with..” youngjoon trailed off himself.

you scanned the spacious venue to figure who he was referring to. none came into your mind until jaehyun walked past by you, and youngjoon pulled him close. “ah! with him!”

oh great, i’m dancing with mr. far-fetched.

staring off into space, taeyong appeared briefly in your peripheral, mouthing that jaehyun ‘volunteered’ for the interlude— which didn’t really add up why he would decide to do this performance when he hasn’t talked to you at all.

it was funny how friendly and warm jaehyun was to your fellow choreographers. he would smile freely and offer spare bottles or snacks. however, he looked stiff now and you craved for answers for strange his behaviour. still, you would be lying to yourself if you said he somehow made you.. squirmy, in a good way.

“let’s work well.” he heard you speak as you began to walk to the centre of the venue, jaehyun soon following you from behind.

he noticed the boys sitting on bleachers for a break, secretly snapping pictures to tease him later on. they mouthed and told him to talk— he was leaving you hanging and making a lady wait for a response was not a gentleman thing to do. he was stunned with your natural beauty and to think you were before him, just made him realise that this was the chance,

to get closer.

because remembering what taeyong told him yesterday, his friends told him to step up his game after it was revealed you found him good-looking. that alone should be enough for jaehyun to have the courage to hold a conversation with you. soon jaehyun cleared his throat, pulled his t-shirt collar and bit his inner gums. “yeah, likewise.” jaehyun cleared his throat. “this should be easy. where should we begin?”

“this is the track we’re dancing to.” you fished out your phone to let him listen to the new version, noticing how youngjoon nod at you.

the said man approached, whispering words that had you wanting to facepalm. a gasp escaped your lips and jaehyun raised a brow in curiosity. “i’m gonna kill her-” your face bubbled up in subtle anger.

jaehyun couldn’t hear much, the volume of the interlude was loud enough to make your voices inaudible. he wasn’t good at lip reading too, but he felt different when his eyes met with yours. a smile you wore earlier flattened, your positivity was still there, yet little did he know the changes made on the spot. youngjoon walked back to the mixer and made jaehyun’s hair a mess.

oh how the gods and goddesses of love must’ve liked shooting arrows continuously at his barely-comprehending mind. he almost ran out of breath hearing those words come out of your mouth and he knew it wasn’t going to be that easy for him.

because to him you were a beautiful distraction.

he recalled how you first met in the practice room during kick-it era; comfy clothes, a chill person with light make-up colours and pretty much his friends instantly introduced themselves. he wished that he was close to you as taeyong was. hopefully by the time the whole concert video was out, fans wouldn’t make a meme out of him given the fact that they did when mc-ing for broadcasts, he unknowingly created a gap between himself and other girl groups.

half an hour had passed and perhaps at this minute, you decided to take back what you said; that they were fast learners. proven you wrong, again. some of them were but jaehyun kept messing up and you were close to losing your patience. he couldn’t get things right. whenever you asked him if he was alright, he claimed to have gotten the hang of the steps taught earlier.

what a lie that was. so far he has stepped your shoes, bumped you though they were minor, and missed some moves. what made you teeth grit was that he looked like he wasn’t aware he did those at all.

ugh look at him. he can do better than this. if he doesn’t catch up, i’m requesting for another member to dance with me.

although he quickly memorised his solo part before dancing with you, the one second break in between have already made him forget the next step. he wasn’t in the right mind, he knew that much and was continuously questioned himself why he lost concentration. dancing with naeun was an exemption. she was a fellow mc, and even then he was shy to hold her hand. but this? this was different. this was more than just holding hands. this included skinship he has never done before, let alone executing intimate movements.

“pretend you’re pulling a lever as she flicks her hips side and back the second time. your hands should be by her hips.” youngjoon instructed, observing jaehyun’s shaky movements at the mirror reflection with reference from the video you sent him before. “good. jae, body wave to the left. y/n to the right and both swing your shoulders outwards..”

but if he wasn’t in the right mind, you were slowly getting there too. the more you were faced with jaehyun, the more you head became fuzzy. you could feel yourself heating up and this wasn’t due to the dance at all. “y/n, caress his jaw and grab him close.”

jaehyun gulped, trying not mind his friends and focus on the routine. “oi, step in closer.” your senior said, nudging the boy at the back. “i said closer like you’re hugging her- ah.” youngjoon realised he made a mistake. the boy froze again and his figure hovered you, the lights above blocked by his shocked expression.

you were falling back.

at this rate, both of you might cause the other an embarrassment of a lifetime. you braced for impact and it was written on your face. jaehyun saw how you shut your eyes. he was afraid of injuring you and somehow did the unthinkable; not even his friends expected that from him and were worried the big guy might crush you. he flipped you around the moment you both were inches above the ground, landing on him instead. “mfgh. ow.” you heard him groan, followed by few gasps and shocked voices.

hesitantly, you opened an eye and felt his palms around your torso. he too had a sour face from the fall. “that was close.” jaehyun squinted you take a peek of you and let out a sigh, which already brought guilt showering over you. “glad you’re not injured-”

“are you two alright?” hana with concern, asked as others repeated the same question.

you got up to sit on your calves in apology but soon spotted hana and youngjoon grinning like their plan worked. so they did have something to do with this. “are you an idiot??” you sighed with a drumming heart, taking jaehyun aback. “you’re performing in two days and it’s best if i’m injured than you are.”

“hey, you’re dancing too..” jaehyun chuckled though was surprised with your sudden fits and tone of your voice, standing up to lend a hand. “..so it’s best if you’re not injured.”

he waited for you to respond to his offer and as you took it, you felt a painful throb at the left ankle. tsk, must’ve twisted a bit it when we fell. dammit jaehyun. you cleared your throat loudly. it came out more of a growl in an annoyed tone. “look, i don’t think you get it. you have two days to practice and there‘s only one you. there are many dancers who can replace me-”

“no, i don’t think you get it. you’re the only one who knows the choreography. you’re basically irreplaceable.”

perhaps if this was told to you in a different sight, you would be squirmy and walking on flowers now. but this was nothing of it. you had to remain professional and set your personal feelings aside.

“not unless if another dancer perfects the dance in two days..” you trailed off.

“okay okay, stop the talking and continue where you both left off. a fall like that shouldn’t be a reason why you’re quarrelling.” youngjoon clapped his hands, moving you in front of jaehyun to start from the top.

when you said that, jaehyun was unsure why you were suddenly irritated. he held his position for the duet before speaking words that had you all fluttery again. “well, i’m dancing with you and staff said it’s final.”

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the following day, your ankle swelled overnight and informed that you would teach jaehyun and yeri, whom you’ve chosen to be his dance partner— the only idol available prior to nct 127’s performance. you crossed arms, observing how she got the steps quicker than jaehyun. “i want you to pop your hips a little more and match the timing with jaehyun. look at him intently before he holds your hand and you letting go.”

a pout then was seen on her face, hesitant and shy to do what you instructed. “i know it’s weird but i’d like you to think what you’re doing is art..” you tried to sound encouraging and later saw jaehyun taking a break at the far end of the stage. “just expressed in forms of movements.”

yeri stifled a laugh, feeling a lot better now she saw how you looked at her fellow label-mate. “yeah that’s not how jaehyun sees it-” she hushed immediately for speaking her thoughts. “y/n, how has he not learned his part yet? didn’t you teach him yesterday?”

“trust me i did! jaehyun’s a great artist but he just doesn’t seemed focused like i imagined him to be.” you took a bite from your sandwich, and yeri giggled that you unconsciously ignored the first half of her sentence. “i mean his solo was a 15-second one. i don’t see why he would forget the rest of the 35-seconds.”

she pursed her lips and took sight of taeyong winking at her, hinting your density with these situations. “well i think he actually got the steps now.” she arched her brows, pointing at the direction where jaehyun was at. “i heard he works hard alone- not that i’m offending you! you’re a great teacher and dancer!”

you smiled as you crumpled the plastic wrap and tossed it in the bin. “none taken, i kinda understand why he would be nervous around me.”

her ears perked up and pulled you to the side. “ooh ooh you do? what is it? i’m in for the tea!”

“i pull a resting face while i monitor them. probably why he found it hard to approach me. he thinks i’m the kind who doesn’t want to be disturbed.” you and yeri walked further off the stage to sit at the very front.

she held her chest hearing how awful you might’ve felt from him. “aw that’s bitter tea! y/n i’m sure he doesn’t think that way! it just takes time, might be longer than the other guys but you’ll get there.”

“get to where?”

“to being friends, and not only the professional level.”

at another side of it, taeyong and the rest heard the whole conversation. they shared looks knowing that they had to relay the news to jaehyun, who was staring at you giggling away with yeri. he met eyes with them and had a thin lipped smile, walking towards his friends. “you guys are weird, quit the creepy smiles.”

doyoung smacked the boy’s head for the density his currently possessed. “do you know the impression she has on you?”

“who? yeri?”

now it was taeil’s turn to smack his head. “y/n, you dimwit.” he sighed, looking at your silhouette under dimmed light then onto jaehyun. “she thinks you’re great..”

“but what you do around her seems to have shown you’re not interested in her.” jungwoo completed his sentence.

jaehyun never felt so attacked by both from them and the facts thrown upon him. “what? no! i am interested in her!”

“then tell her that. it isn’t that hard to say you’re interested in being friends.” haechan bent to release the tension in his muscles.

they wanted to encourage him a little more yet were then called to stand-by for another practice, with the interlude as the beginning. the signal from the staff have ordered for the lightings and music to be queued and readied.

mark nudged him in a strength that nearly made him fall. “hey, it’s about the right time you get closer to her,” he said in a low voice, highkey referring to your ruptured ligament on your ankle yet jaehyun seemed to have missed the point. “or else there’ll be no development.”

jaehyun chugged on his bottle in silence. “what do you mean?”

“youngjoon hyung said she’ll be on leave for weeks. i don’t know how long but if you don’t do anything now, you’ll continue to live up to the impression without even talking to her.” he explained and cringed afterwards feeling taeyong and johnny’s presence among them.

“show her that what she choreographed for us is not in vain, okay?” johnny made his hair a mess, before leaving the stage to go to where you were. the stage director said his count down. you cheered on yeri with a thumbs up and the music started its tune.

a/n: can’t seem to add song in between texts, so here’s a link instead ;-; let me know if it doesn’t work :3

it was your choreography up there, that was soon to be shown to the world, recorded to be part of the rundown and later burnt in c.d’s. you felt nervous at the fact if they would really execute what you wanted to show— the form of art you put your sweat upon even if it were just 50 seconds. when jaehyun began taking yeri’s hand after his solo part, leading her then mirroring her movements, your heart squeezed for no reason. they should be able to nail this part until the last beat of the song.

but as you clenched your chest to prevent your hands from shaking, taeyong saw your expression, convincing him enough that your reaction towards this said otherwise.

the boys usually held a small dinner a day prior to the concert, for a good show and performance. yuta decided to invite you to a japanese restaurant nearby so you wouldn’t feel left out or feel a lot distant than you already were with them.

you prepared your essentials before meeting them, the tapes of your ankle band came loose and you reached to adjust it as discomfort was all you felt for a while. jaehyun knelt down to sit across you, licking his dry lips to simmer the nervousness he felt inside. “do you need help?” he asked when you looked up to notice his presence. “or is there anything i can do to help?”

“y-yeah. it needs a proper tightness to it.” you gave a faint nod. he smiled and held your left leg to rest it on his thigh.

silence was slowly killing him, he had to admit that at least. now that you both conversed, what then? would this just be another acquaintance talk like yesterday, where it was only a mere one? nothing else to it? nothing happened?

jaehyun wanted to set the professionalism to the side, heed to his friends’ words and actually become close to you. perhaps put his feelings for you behind him for the meantime. “sorry.” he conceded, which made you confused for a second. “i’m sorry.”

“from the fall yesterday?” you stretched back that your palms were your support as he taped the band around. jaehyun shook his head, making you more confused. “then what are you apologising for?”

“for making you feel like i didn’t want to talk to you since you arrived.”

you stared at him, lips parting when you finally grasped his purpose. “oh.. that! it’s okay. i’m not expecting to be that level of friends immediately.” you chuckled awkwardly because it was a bit of a lie. i mean it took a while to be good friends with the others-”

“i’m sorry that i chose not to talk to you and it might have given you a bad impression of me.” he took your shoe so you could wear and head to the restaurant. “i guess it really is difficult to when i admire you a lot. heck i even asked my groupmates to tone down their knowledge about that because they have plans to embarrass-”

he jolted at the drop of your phone and your sigh, eyes wandering and wavering at it then looking to you. he helped you stand up and when he did too, you sighed heavier, flattened lips and a smile. “my anxiety convinced me that you hated me.” you confessed, finally letting out the worry that has been bothering you for months.

you shyly looked back at him and noticed how he was fidgety as you were. you couldn’t handle the visuals he has— even more now that he was close to you. so ethereal and magnetising.

maybe this was what the somersaults you’ve been feeling all the time. the unexplainable gut feeling that you’d be pulled into something you couldn’t handle?

it was him.

jaehyun panicked at the word. “h-hate? i don’t! not even a bit. i really like you!” he sputtered, then waving his hands to deny his feelings. “i mean like as in like you as person and your dedication to all this.”

“heh..” you both turned to the voice and taeyong smirked what he heard. “just tell her already, jae.” he pointed out, and you were left clueless as they shared the same brain cell. jaehyun’s eyes grew, hoping that his friend wouldn’t expose him, but taeyong answered him with his eyes, as if his voice was almost telepathic.

‘not confessing! you’re not at that intimacy level yet! tell y/n that you wanna hang with her!’

“i-i just wanna get closer to you?” he pondered, scratching his neck from the tornado of feelings whirling inside. “as friends, not as workmates or anything.” he waited for your response, staring in your magnetising orbs that lured him into something deeper.

“we would’ve been if we talked earlier on.” you smiled, hinting that you didn’t mind taking that step with him too. “but yeah, same here, jaehyun.”

jaehyun smiled genuinely at you for the first time, no awkwardness nor forcing himself to. “yes!” he had his fists up with ecstasy that you said his name, only to panic at the time. the dinner was already starting.

taeyong exhaled and swung his arms to let the blood flow normally. “ah, now that’s settled. let’s get to the restaurant too.”

you punched his arm and he flinched at the impact and hissed that it came out more of a question than a reaction you expected. “what you get for lying that you didn’t know anything.” you stuck a tongue out.

“and i’m supposed to pay the price for it?” he rubbed to sooth the pain. “not fair.”

walking to the backstage, you slowly lifted your foot to head down the stairs. “don’t worry, they’ll get their punches from me real soon.” you whistled.

jaehyun took your hand, supporting your weight at the same time. he couldn’t rush you in the state you’re in.

“what about jaehyun? he’s the one who did all this, and had the rest of us included.” taeyong jut his lips to point to the boy, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jackets. “he should get a punch too.”

“i’m not punching someone who wants to be closer to me. it’s not a good.. first impression.” you hid a laugh with flattened lips, jaehyun mirrored you and gave a flirty wink.

with that, he managed to magnetise you, just to make his gap with you,

closer.

#nct 127 #jaehyun oneshot #jung jaehyun #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun writings #jaehyun au #jaehyun fluff #jung yoonoh #nct jaehyun #jaehyun #nct #jaehyun nct #jaehyun x reader

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goosedawn · 3 years

Note

linguistics pog????? :D :D :D i will admit I didn’t do as much thought into the aus/nz language changes as I really should’ve (mostly because my understanding of the regions is basic at best ^^’) and I am 👀👀👀 at your tags……….. if you have more thoughts I would be FASCINATED to hear what you say :D!!! -bio nerd anon

LINGUISTICS POG!!! YEAHHHH

my knowledge of linguistics is limited but its so cool and ur HELLA valid, australia and new zealand are pretty isolated so like. fair (relatedly, most of my thoughts are nz based, i cant really talk much abt australian linguistics) but basically i absolutely have more thoughts >:3c

also im assuming this is still in the context of how language could develop in @possiblyaperson03‘s strangers on the internet au, so im just gonna clarify this is all purely speculation based on what we know abt the au and my own knowledge + lived experience :D

... i also just keep on going about language development in this au in general so i put it all under the cut :’>

tl;dr: australian and new zealand accents are likely to converge, but also might have a mix of different languages mixed into the way they speak, with pockets of non-english speakers. humans in australia and new zealand might not have as nuanced terms relating to giants, and may not have the same level of understanding regarding the giants language.

....... tl;dr TWO: wild humans might develop “alarm calls” that are shared with other human groups even if they cannot understand each other otherwise, and might even mimic giants. sign and written language could also become more prevalent in giant inhabited areas.

SO, in new zealand theres already quite a mix of cultures, although. yknow. colonialization ended up in a largely westernised culture/language, with english being the ‘main’ language, however nz sign language and Māori are also considered to be national languages.

nz accents specifically tend to be quicker and kinda. slur some words together, but that also depends on the location around new zealand. people who are surrounded by more Māori influences tend to draw out some vowels a bit longer, which ends up with a slightly different cadence.

im not really sure how to describe the aussie accent kshdfksjd but i think generally its a lot sharper than nz accents but also has more of a drawl, and some vowels are more drawn out/accentuated

i think it would be likely that australians and new zealanders would probably keep these aspects but depending on how much people cross between the two (in lieu of traversing elsewhere, and interacting with other countries) its more likely for the accents to converge.

however!! differing languages would also kind of. stick to how they sounded when they split, with the language spoken by immigrants not only sounding more accurate to the original due to shifts in language in their original location (due to simplification and dangerous situations) but also because of people wanting to preserve their culture.

in new zealand currently (especially in places with a lot of mixed cultures/immigration, in big cities compared to more rural areas) there is already a lot of mixing in terms of accent and language, and even more so with outside influences due to media and such

people do whats referred to as “accent matching“ which is basically changing the way you speak to match other people around you (psychologically, its kinda like mimicking other people so they are more likely to like you/become attached to you because you are similar to them) and so people mimic accents around them and thats part of how you pick up accents when you move to a new place.

so in an isolated space, with a variation of accents, how does that work? honestly i think it would be similar to how things are in big nz cities currently, and because its even more packed together with a whole variation of people who may not necessarily be english speaking is that something that may happen is a mix of language, with people dipping in and out of other languages based off of what specific cultural influences an individual is surrounded by.

this is something that can be seen in places like malaysia, where there is often a mashup of languages and cultures, resulting in a variance of dialects depending on geographical location, picking up some words from other languages depending on who your neighbours are (or at least. thats what i’ve been told by relatives from there, and have seen reflected in the way they speak- they tend to mix english with at least 3 different dialects of chinese as well as malay and indian words)

like i mentioned in my tags on the other post, nz already has quite a few pockets of areas where there are immigrants who either have trouble speaking english or rely on relatives/friends to interact with english speakers, and this is something that is likely to develop in this au as well i reckon. i cant comment on how this might work in australia though.

also, if isolated with little contact from giants, it would be unlikely for australians/new zealanders to develop terms relating to giants, or at least not terms similar to other countries. they might be more abstract or scientific, with less nuance due to less interaction.

its unlikely humans in australia and new zealand would pick up much accenting from giants and perhaps depending on how long it would be after The Event, may even not be able to say certain words/hear certain differences in giants accents as well!

However, it should be noted that young babies (like a few months old) are able to identify variance in human accents that children and adults cannot, because we learn what sounds to listen out for based on what languages and cultures we are exposed to, so technically we are biologically built to understand a variation of languages, but quickly learn specificity and thus lose that ability.

(RELATEDLY: if this was also true for giants, unless they were brought up around humans when they were very young it would be unlikely that they would be able to tell some subtle differences in human speech, FURTHER solidifying what you said about giants just. not being able to hear human intonation).

in terms of language in countries inhabited by giants, you mentioned that humans might have more simplified language and such, which could result in varying “alarm calls”, much like modern animals have now, which vary depending on where a threat is coming from (e.g. different calls for birds compared to land based predators) these might transcend other language like words, if there was a larger difference between geographical areas.

on top of that, some groups of animals also reciprocally respond to other groups of animals alarm calls due to both being pressured by biological and environmental threats, and i wouldnt be surprised if something similar developed between wild human colonies. humans are great at mimicking, so it could be possible that a series of animal-esque calls, or heck even calls mimicking giants could be something that is used.

furthermore, it might also be likely for some groups of humans to rely more on visual (signed or written) languages to symbolise things, especially if they dont get to interact with other groups, perhaps out of fear of being caught in large numbers. on top of this, having visual signals would be useful for not notifying giants of your presence if you need to be quiet.

warning signs and such would probably be developed pretty quickly, with certain groups maybe having defining features depending on what materials they have (maybe some groups burn warnings into things, vs others who carve the symbols in)

there might also be varying ways of referring to directions that are easier to identify quickly. OH in the alternate universe with wilbur having a guitar, maybe music could be used for communicating certain things also?? idk ive gone on long enough jkfhsdfjhsdf

thanks for reading all the way to the end! if you got here i appreciate you!! 💛

#goosegoes #gooseanswers #bio nerd anon #linguistics POG #i have. way too much material on hand ksjdfhksjdfh i was lookin up stuff abt new zealand accents/language the other day already #also i was literally learning abt language in my lectures recently cos my classes this sem were on development and cognition ksjdfhsdjfk #im legit sittin here like #'wait i learnt abt that the other day what??? this is useful now????? POG'#AND also an anthropology paper focusing on primates and conservation which is surprisingly useful #wait would there be conservation efforts for humans #BRUH #i had to take a break and go eat skjfhsdfnsjkdfksjdfh #ANYWAY THIS IS DONE AND ITS LONG IM SO SORRY #this was. 1300 words. help

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slothgiirl · 4 years

Text

percolating gently (noah x mc)

au in which jane marshall lives and mc and noah and jane run off to live happily ever after a family of three and also smut (if you don’t want to read that skip the section that goes “its christmas, technically”.

title from a tennessee williams quote

15k

It's the three of them in the end. Jane. Noah. And you. Just like it started. Just like it had been.

Always you caught up between the two Marshall twins; Jane’s hand in yours gripping tight and never backing down as she poured water into dirt to make mud. At nine, and never having shared Jane’s attention before, Noah had snubbed you on more than one occasion, shooting down watching Resident Evil just because you had suggested it.

It was funny how you'd befriended Noah first. Jane had a fever the week your parents moved to Westchester (to study some microbe that was super rare or some other incredibly niche nerdy thing). You'd been left to roam the neighborhood on your own as per usual, drawing trees and pets you wished for in chalk, and then Noah.

Noah.

Redfield- Jane’s let up at least a little. You're no longer stuck to that awful chair in terror but griping Noah's shoulders, your fingers clutching the fabric of his denim jacket because he can't, you won't let him take her place.

He's been through so much already.

They both had.

“Noah,” you stammer out, chilled to the bone from terror or the fact that you were in a damp and freezing underground chamber--probably both. “Noah, you can't!” You tighten your grip on him even as his frown deepens, anger clear on his features as he glares down at you.

You cut him off before he can snap at you. Looking over at Jane, no longer blazing, but hovering around, a shadow spilling into the corners of the room, eyes a cold blue without an ounce of friendliness or curiosity.

“I'm sorry,” you tell her, because this was all your fault. You should've never encouraged her. You should've saved her. You should've done more: anything but brush the memory of her away instead of dealing with the events of that summer. Denial had long been your method of choice but here Jane was. It had all been real.

You owe her this much.

And Noah-

“I promised I'd be there for you,” you think of the whistle, “I promised I'd protect you so that's what I'm going to do now,” you say even as your hands shake. “Let me take your place.”

You move to stand, but Noah doesn't budge, his head shaking as his agonized wide eyes meet yours. There's always been a sincere quality in the warmth of Noah's brown eyes that put you at ease and had you feeling like you two were the only people in the world and you could never say no to him; not now. He's a mess (just how you feel), beanie about to slide off his tangled hair, tear tracks down his cheeks. There's a pull in your chest, the painful need to throw your arms around him and hug him until the world stops being this shitty but you doubt you'd ever leave his side if you hug him now.

Noah shakes his head. “It should be me,” he utters into the eerie acoustics of the chamber, the horror of the situation audible in his voice. “It should have been me then. I can finally make things right.”

Your lip grumbles as you cry out, “don't say that,” your hand reaching up to cup his cheek, “don't you dare say that bullshit Noah-we were kids! None of this,” you look around, look at Jane, “this shouldn't have happened to anyone. And it wasn't anyone's fucking fault!”

If-when you got out of this, you were going to throw hands with Mrs. Marshall.

You used to wish she’d been your mother.

The shadow that is Jane inches closer.

Right.

It had to be you or him.

His skin was warm against your hand and you don't-you don’t think you can live in a world where Noah isn't there and he's had the shittiest time and you could've reached out but you didn't and he doesn't deserve this because he thinks he deserves this.

Noah thinks he should've died.

Fuck.

This was all so fucked up.

“It's okay,” Noah whispers softly, his hand covering yours before gently removing your hand from his cheek, removing your hold on him. “It's okay.”

“But-” you look at Jane.

You didn't know what was worse, a world without Noah in it or a world where Noah became some twisted monster the same way Jane had over the years of loneliness. No one started out a monster.

You shake your head, reaching for Noah's hand, “I promised I wasn't leaving you again.”

His eyes widen in shock, giving him that doe eyes look that sort of made you want to kiss him, as if he'd forgotten all about that moment, as if he thought he wasn't worth it but Noah deserved more than death. He should get to go to culinary school and deal with shitty customers at Baby Jane’s.

And it was too late to save the day.

If you were being honest, it was nine years too late. It was all about doing the best you could in impossible circumstances because Jane didn't deserve to spend an eternity alone and scared and a monster either.

Intertwining your fingers with his, you swallow thickly before replying in a steady voice, having made your choice the moment Noah had been willing to go find Dan alone, when he'd opened up to you at the shop and you realized all this time it hadn't just been you dealing with the repercussions of Redfield, “Together.”

You weren't going to fail Noah again.

Noah is speechless.

But Jane was always able to go with the flow. A shadowy limb ghost over both your hands, in the vein of those cheesy moments in anime when a best friend speech got everyone through a big battle.

“Allll play too g etherR.”

“Yeah,” Noah says sadly, accepting that there was no version of this ending that didn't end in tragedy. “together.”

At least this way, you could be monsters together.

“It's okay Jane,” he tells his sister, his hand squeezing yours, “we’ll take over from here.”

You wake up cold, thinking that you'd left your bedroom window open (not that you were doing much sleeping in that room after the Dan night terror) again, but you're greeted with the sight of Jane curled up asleep between you and Noah looking the same as she had at the many sleepovers you'd have at their house. You don't know if she's real or if this is a dream or if you're dead and this is just a figment of your new reality, but you don't care.

Finally, you understand the ending of Inception.

You don't want to wake them up, still exhausted yourself, but Jane keeps shivering and you can only imagine how worried your friends were. Your phone’s dead.

You couldn't stay here.

“Noah,” you whisper, the sound echoing throughout the chamber. “Noah…”

He grumbles in his sleep, but doesn't wake up.

“Noah,” you hiss.

“What,” Noah slurs, shifting as he lifts his head, jostling Jane at his side but your friend who was dead, was previously dead, continues to sleep looking like a particularly angelic little girl.

You can tell when the situation dawns on him: the twitch of his lips as his mouth settles into a frown, brows becoming drawn in thought.

It's day outside.

You're not sure which day.

Noah's phone is also dead.

Both of you stumble through the woods half asleep, Noah carrying Jane as if she was the most precious thing in the world which she was because she had been dead but now she wasn't and you were beginning to hope this was real and not a trick and that Jane was getting a shot at a normal childhood.

“We should go to my house,” you offer, keeping your voice low as to not disturb Jane who continued to sleep, no wonder Andy and Ava had been able to draw so many mustaches on her back in the day. “It's closer.”

And also you had no way of explaining how Jane had suddenly come back to life. That was something to process later. First a warm bed and sleep and then you had to let your friends know you weren't dead and figure out the whole Jane being alive with Noah. But first, sleep.

“Yeah, okay,” Noah answer’s, clearly still in shock. “Sounds good.” He says as if you two were discussing the weather and not sudden resurrection.

Then again, was this really that big of a leap considering everything that happened in the last few months?

You kick off your shoes and curl up with the Marshall twins to sleep.

“Why are you so much taller,” Jane asks once you’ve all woken up and yes, Jane’s still there, flesh and blood and the idea begins to solidify that she’s alive and well, well maybe not, you don’t know how much she remembers if at all and you still don’t know what to do with her but for now Noah’s rifling around your sparse kitchen, sending you a judgemental look at the half empty pancake box mix that expired a month ago but there’s no gross mold or anything so he uses it anyway, unwilling to leave Jane alone for a second.

Noah smiles easily, which has you smiling, “I’m not tall,” he replies to his sister, “you just shrunk.”

She frowns, nose wrinkling and you had forgotten she did that when she was upset, her nose wrinkling up as her lips turn downward. It was adorable. Then in classic Jane fashion she decides, “that’s a lie.” And sticks her nose up in the air, her fingers continuing to do whatever in your hair. It feels nice, her small fingers weaving clumsily through your thick hair, but Jane had never actually learned to braid so you’re pretty sure she’s just tangling your hair up but you wouldn’t refuse Jane anything right now.

It’s been days since the dance.

You have countless missed calls from your friends, texts getting increasingly and increasingly panicked, and nothing from either of your parents.

“Turn around,” Jane squeaks, tapping your shoulder urgently.

“Alright, alright,” you say, shifting in your seat. She’s tiny. All red hair and freckles and she hasn’t left your side since waking you up, knees in your side as she’d yelled that she was bored and wanted to play so loud it had woken Noah up.

Jane looks at you with a frown. “You’re big too.” Then her lower lip wobbles.

Shit.

Hastily, you pull her onto your lap, wrapping your arms around her.

“Why am I still small,” she whispers, looking up at you with the same wide brown eyes you were so used to.

“Uh,” you swallow thickly, trying to figure something out because maybe she didn’t remember and wasn’t that for the best? Wouldn’t that be the best case scenario? The only problem is you’re barely eighteen and not at all prepared to handle a nine year old. Had you really been this small when your parents decided to fuck off? “It’s because. . .you’re special, like Peter Pan.”

She crunches up her nose for a second, thinking. Then in her child innocence, she nods, deciding she likes the explanation. “You should’ve come with me,” Jane pats your cheek sadly, “grown ups are so boring.”

Noah wheezes, a pancake slipping off the spatula as his shoulders shake with laughter.

You hadn’t had time to talk about what had happened, what he had done, and you certainly hadn’t had time to process your feelings on any of it, but you were always glad to see him laughing.

“Someone had to take care of your dumb brother,” you reply, legs kind of going numb with her weight.

Jane nods sagely, “Noah is dumb. Because he’s a changeling.”

When you were kids, you’d both been obsessed with goblins and trolls and fairy tales. You two would dig in the dirt looking for hag stones. Sticks would double as magic wands and swords. The old fur jacket Jane liked to play dress up with was her selkie skin and you would take turns hiding it around the house.

Noah rolls his eyes. He hadn’t liked your weirdo kid games the first time around, he liked them even less now and you can’t help but grin at his expense. “You’re the redhead in the family.”

Jane blows a raspberry.

What a way to win an argument.

It’s past midnight before Jane crashes.

You’re on your third watch of frozen which had seemed like a great way to keep Jane inside the first time when you’d suggested it (kids loved that movie) and had become the worst, as Jane made you watch the movie again and again, singing “do you want to build a snowman” at the top of her lungs. That hadn’t stopped you and Noah from helping her find all the pillows in your house to build a castle with. Your living room has become a pillow castle fort.

During the second watch, Jane had dug around through your closet, before finding a blue hoodie you didn’t even remember you had and tying it around her shoulders. “You’re Anna,” she’d told you, giving you pigtails when she gave up on braids.

Now, she was asleep on the couch, drooling on her pillow.

Noah immediately turns off the TV. “You couldn’t have put on Shrek?”

You’re sitting next to him on the floor, finally giving into the urge to look at the news on your phone. You hadn’t risked it while Jane was awake. She was a nosy child.

You frown, “we need to tell the others.” Because this was really happening. Jane was alive and you didn’t know what to do with that. She needed. . .fuck-she needed school and parents and probably therapy if she remembered any of it. You were just eighteen. You had no idea what to do.

Noah’s responding frown mirrors yours. “What? Why!”

“She just came back from the dead,” you reply quietly. “She needs-fuck what are we going to tell your mom?”

His expression turns angry, brows furrowing. “Fuck her. She doesn’t deserve to know.”

“Noah,” you sigh, not wanting to argue with him because what was there to argue. His mom was a shitty parent. “Dan, Andy. . .they think we’re dead. They deserve to know after what happened. They deserve an explanation.”

He flinches.

“And besides-we’re in high school! What are we-what the hell are we going to do with her,” you say gently because you couldn’t keep her cooped up in your house. You had things like high school and maybe college if you could salvage this quarter. You didn’t have a job. “She needs parents. And school. And. . .” You throw your hand sup in the air. You had no clue what she needed. You weren’t a functioning adult. You didn’t know what kids need.

“She has me.” Noah hisses back.

You roll your eyes. “I know that-fuck Noah,” becuase he was getting angry with you when all you were trying to do was help. God, he could be so freaking dense sometimes. “She deserves a normal childhood. How the hell are we supposed to do that for her? Does she remember any of it?” You cross your arms over your chest and stare at your feet. The garish pink nail polish was still intact.

Didn’t people need birth certificates and stuff?

Lucas would know.

Lily could probably do her computer thing and help with that.

He falls silent, glaring at the blank TV screen.

Noah’s breathing is harsh and you wait patiently.

“I can drop out,” Noah finally says quietly. “Get a job. . .”

“I’m going to call Lily,” you reply. “We need groceries anyway.” Like hell were you leaving Jane for even a second. This time, you mean to keep your promise.

Jane bursts into tears when she sees all her friends grew up without her, eyes turning red as tears streamed down her eyes and she buried her face in Noah’s chest, refusing to budge. He rubs his hand comfortingly against her back, carrying her upstairs.

Even from the living room, still a mess, you can hear her sob upstairs.

“What the absolute fuck,” Lucas utters, taking a seat, resting his head in his hands.

“Explain,” Stacy urges, already unpacking the groceries you’d requested into your kitchen.

You do.

You go over the last couple of days, most of which you spent sleeping.

“I think it says a lot about how fucked our lives are that this is only like the second craziest thing to happen to us,” Andy mutters, pacing around the room. “I mean,” he says stopping near the kitchen island, “the whole town got brainwashed!”

“Does-does she remember,” Lily asks.

You shrug, “I. . .I don’t think so. Clearly she doesn’t know why we’re all older. Maybe it’ll come back to her?” You hope it doesn’t.

“So what are we going to do,” Lily says, looking around at everyone.

Dan speaks up, “Jane could have blocked out those memories. My therapist said that can happen with traumatic events.”

“That makes sense,” you find yourself saying, slumping in your seat. You think you could just finish high school at home. It’s not like your parents would know, or care. They’re not here. That way Noah can finish high school and you can look after Jane. But then what?

“Just so we’re all on the same page,” Ava asks rhetorically, “we’re just going to ignore the fact Noah tried to kill us?”

You flinch.

“Jesus fucking christ Ava,” Andy snaps, looking just as agitated as you’ve all felt for months.

“One crisis at a time,” Stacy complains, closing the cupboard door with a hard thunk, “I can only handle one crisis at a time.” Then she looks over at you, “are you-is. . .you can stay at my house if you need to.” No one suggests Noah and Jane going to their own house.

You shake your head.

At some point, you were going to hash things out with Noah, but it wasn’t exactly anger at Noah that you felt. It was hurt and the raw heart crushing betrayal. You know you hadn't been there for him when he needed you--for years-- but you thought, you wish he had just told you about Jane being Redfield.You would have helped, you would have done anything to help Noah and Jane and maybe no one would’ve needed to play are you scared at all. Fuck.

But no. You don’t feel scared at being here with him which was what Stacy was asking about. It hadn’t even crossed your mind even once.

But it feels too private to tell them that the three of you have been inseparable since the ruins. You’d spent last night curled up on the living room floor with him. But that knowledge was yours. You weren’t about to share that.

“It’s fine. I’m fine.” You don’t feel fine. “She can’t stay in Westchester can she?” Because you’re tired and want someone else to tell you what to do for once.

“Probably not,” Lucas answers tightly, still looking freaked out, eye twitching.

“It’s not a trick or anything. . .” Andy glances around.

You shake your head. Slowly, a plan forms in your head. Your parents would pay for your college, you’d apply out of state and take the Marshall twins with you. Instead of a dorm, you’d get an apartment. It could work.

Somehow.

“Have your parents called,” Dan asks gently.

“No,” you wave off. They weren’t important. Jane was.

“Have you thought about how you’re going to explain this,” Andy asks.

You wince. “Sort of. . .I don’t know.” You put your hands in your head.

It's Ava who wraps her arm around your shoulders, “we’ll figure this out.”

“Thanks.”

It's a familiar type of awful that Noah’s mom doesn’t really care that he’s spent the last six months living at your house.

With a great deal of arguing at 2 in the morning while lying next to a sleeping Jane, you’d managed to convince Noah to finish high school. And you’d promptly switched to homeschooling.

Lily had come through with Jane’s paperwork, now in your bag as your friends drop you off at the nearest regional airport.

You hold Jane’s hand, the only thing keeping her from running off as she takes the sight of the airport in. She’s thrown countless fits about being cooped up. But it was too risky for her to be seen in Westchester, a small town where everyone knew she’d died. The most you could do was your backyard.

So of course you’d made up for it by letting her pick your college.

“Someplace warm and sunny,” Jane had shouted excitedly, mind going crazy with plans as your acceptance letters came in.

Months on, it’s way less awkward even if Ava and Lucas have settled on ignoring Noah.

Andy hugs you hard. “Call when you land!”

You snort, “duh.”

Lily smiles and adds, “I might visit for spring break.”

“That would be great,” you tell her, tightening your hold on Jane as something catches her attention.

She pivots to Noah, who had the backbone of a toothpick when it came to telling Jane no which is why she keeps getting to skip brushing her teeth in the morning which was gross and she hated you for trying to chase her down, “I want that stuffed animal. If you give me that narwhal, I’ll eat my veggies.”

“You’re eating your veggies anyway,” you reply back, dragging her along.

“You won’t have to watch frozen tomorrow.” She continues, targeting her brother ruthlessly.

Noah’s already fishing his wallet out.

“That’s what you said about the hair color,” you point out, opting to carry her when she goes limp. “Don’t you dare Noah.”

Ava grins at you, amused and unhelpful.

“It’s just a toy,” he replies.

You roll your eyes.

“You two are such parents,” Andy laughs.

“I hate you,” Jane huffs. “We’re not friends anymore.”

“She told you,” Ava snorts.

Jane beams. Then reaches for Noah, who takes her from your arms without complaint.

You hug Lily one last time, and then. . .you’re going through security.

“I get the window seat,” Jane declares once you get past TSA.

“Go for it,” you tell her, belatedly realizing it’s going to be hell if it turns out she doesn’t like planes.

She nods, satisfied.

Tampa is no less humid and hot and awful a month in then it was when you first got off the plane but Jane loves it and there’s a park next to the building your living in: a tiny cramped apartment with only one room which went to Jane obviously which you and Noah had originally planned for you and Jane to share but both of you had capitulated to Jane’s demands within the day. She deserved being spoiled.

The A/C in Ikea was a godsend.

Sleeping on the floor with the bare necessities was not it and with you starting school next week, it was time to take your meager savings and get some furniture.

“Remember,” Noah says, pulling up the list on his phone. It had started with him grocery shopping since he cooked and needing to make a grocery list to Noah just taking over figuring out how to make the money your parents sent and his own contribution from his new job work. “Sofa bed. Bed for Jane. Blankets. One lamp. And a mattress.”

“Weren't you complaining about only having one pan this morning,” you ask as Jane drags you along to the first showroom, practically bouncing with energy.

Noah shrugs. “I can make it work.”

“Buying an extra pan won't kill us,” you counter. “We can just use my credit card.” And not eat out for the rest of the month, you didn't add.

“Let's play hide and seek,” Jane says with excitement. “I'll seek.”

You exchange glances with Noah.

Tomorrow you had to go sign her up at school. You had to go over the story with her again. Just to make sure you didn't all get in trouble.

Jane covers her eyes. “One. Two. . .”

You look around the tiny space, thinking of where to hide. Between school and Jane you weren't sure when you could or even if you could get a part time job. Noah was working at a diner during the evenings. You had gotten your classes early in the morning so you could be home with Jane while he worked. The problem was finding the extra free time to work.

Ugh.

Being an adult was hard.

But how much of an adult could you be when your parents were paying your tuition?

You head for the tiny bathroom which has a neat looking toothbrush holder and isn’t that something you need to buy? There were so many little things like a bath mat and towels and a dish rack that were only just occurring to you that were sort of essentials and jeez you really had one foot in adulthood. You don’t even hide behind the curtain, worried that Jane won’t find you easily and freak out and there’s weirdos everywhere. It was your job to look after her now. Not that Noah had asked for your help, but it was a given.

“Eight. . .nine. . .” Jane’s little voice carries and you’re struck by a flood of emotions that has your eyes tearing up.

Noah steps into the bathroom next to you, “we need a cutting board,” he says so seriously you can’t help but snort.

“What,” he asks, shaking his head at you.

“Nothing.”

He tilts his head.

You shrug, “just thinking. I don’t know. I don’t feel very grown up. And I took all the dumb towels my parents stockpiled for granted.”

“We should’ve raided your house,” he agrees, the corner of his lips lifting, “purge style.”

“Yeah,” you nod, “I never get why everyone jumps straight to murder. What does Ava always say? Redistribute the wealth, rob a bank.” You roll your eyes, scoffing, “murder.”

Noah snorts. “Pretty sure that’s Lucas. Ava’s more of a go straight to cutting people’s heads off.”

“Robespierre style,” you grin.

“Robes who?”

“Robespierre. From the french revolution.”

“I think that’s the class I must’ve ditched,” Noah admits.

You frown. “You could do community college,” because you had to corner him at some point. Noah was very good at avoiding subjects he didn’t want to talk about. “We could make it work. Do your G.E.’s”

Noah shrugs.

“Noah-” Because he said he wanted to go to culinary school and you get the urge to drop everything and buy a ranch in utah and live with Jane for the rest of your lives except Jane would hate that and grow up and leave and how are you going to afford spoiling her if you can’t get a decent job? Noah deserved to go for his dreams too.

None of you had to be defined by your incredibly shitty childhood.

Jane pops in, “found you!” She giggles in her Baby Yoda t-shirt and leggings, “you two are bad at this game! My turn!” Jane grabs Noah’s hand and drags him along to the next showroom that catches her eye, “remember,” she lectures you both, “no peeking,” before shooting off.

“What did you end up choosing for your major,” Noah asks, as you both fail to keep your eyes closed, looking over at the sofa section. It would be so freaking nice not to sleep on the carpet anymore.

“History,” you admit, “though I’m not sure it’ll stay like that. I don’t know exactly what I want to do after college. Or if I even like history enough to major in it. . .it just sounded fine at the time.” You had done well in APUSH. That had to mean something. But you had also liked your economics class. . .maybe you should do economics? “I really have no clue. Has it been ten seconds?”

“Probably,” Noah says with a smile, “nine, ten, coming to find you,” he calls out.

It’s a living room showroom, and yet Jane had managed to squeeze herself right behind a floor lamp and the TV stand. She’s a slip of a girl, but her red hair makes her easier to spot. Thank god.

“Let’s go pick out things for your room,” you offer, because you still have to go downstairs and find all the different pieces and then still go home and put them together. Thank god for uber. Oh shit, did this mean you had to get a car at some point? How do people buy cars?

“Okay,” Jane nods, immediately taking off, and she has you and Noah speed walking after her, on the border of a full out run. It was hard to be annoyed when you were still so happy to wake up in a world where Jane was alive and here and who cares that it took three hours to get her to stand still long enough to comb her hair and putting her to bed was a long drawn out affair of a bedtime story and a snack and needing to be tucked in and checking on all her toys and deciding she needed a glass of water next to her just in case she woke up thirsty.

It was worth it.

You liked not living alone.

You liked not being alone.

You weren't sure who was more exhausted as you finished washing the dishes. Jane was sleeping, thank god. The nice thing about Florida was it was fall and it was still warm enough to spend the evening at the park so Jane could tire herself out while you read fifty pages of your history and sociology textbook. It was what all the other moms did and you winced when Jane asked to join the soccer team that practiced at the park by your building because you didn't have the money and you could only hope she didn't ask Noah because he came home tired enough but for Jane he'd take more shifts.

There was laundry you didn't want to do and a quiz in english which was a nice class even if everyone was half asleep at 7:30 in the morning because your professor was somehow awake enough to engage and rant about short stories that thankfully weren't the same ten dead old white men you'd read in high school but actual people alive today whose english you could understand. It's night, so you don't bother drying the dishes before turning off the light. Noah had brought food which showed how tired he was. Yesterday's leftovers had saved you from attempting anything because you sucked in the kitchen as your poor microwave could attest: aluminum foil and microwaves don't mix.

Noah’s already asleep when you slide into bed next to him. You can still smell the scent of oil and grease on his skin even as you stay decidedly on your side of the bed.

It's mid september in Tampa and it's still warm and it doesn't stop you at all from curling up with a blanket.

The window panes are cracked open letting in the soft moonlight and you lay in bed, brain melted from class and reading, and look at Noah's profile and how much lighter he looked compared to a year ago. The lines around his mouth from frowning had eased; Jane teasing out a side of him that had previously shriveled up.

It's done him good to get away from his mom. To have his sister. You just wish you could do more for him.

Like he was doing for you and Jane.

You drift off to sleep. . .

“Move over,” a small voice asks, and your eyes crack open to the dark of the room and Jane a hair's breadth away with wide scared eyes, a pillow hugged to her chest. Her voice is raw, as if she'd been crying.

You move over, brain sleep addled, to make room for her.

She slips in besides you, immediately curling up in your chest the way she does when she decides she's done walking for the day: the way she runs up to Noah when he gets home from work.

“Did you have a bad dream,” you mumble, not wanting to wake up her brother.

“I don't know.” Jane admits, “I just don't want to sleep alone.”

“I thought you wanted your own room,” you tease, a little more awake now.

“I do,” she cries out loudly in the dark of the night.

You can just imagine her pouting even if you can't see her, your eyes falling shut again. “Okay. You can sleep over tonight.”

“Yay,” she whispers back. “We should draw a mustache on Noah.”

You snort, “too late. He hasn't bothered shaving in like two days.” It was a good look on him: stubble. You'd teased him ruthlessly, almost choking on your water when he'd gone pink.

Jane giggles.

“Go to sleep,” you tell her. “You have school.”

“So do you.”

“Sleep.”

“Tell me a bedtime story.”

“Jane,” you whine, rolling over away from her, because she sure wasn't going to stop. “Sleep.”

“Where the fuck are my shoes,” Noah says, as he stumbles around trying to find his things.

You should've folded the laundry last night. Instead, it was a pile on the floor, clean, but a mess. You had parent teacher conferences today, and of course you were rushing at the last minute. Between finishing a paper for sociology and ditching class because of the conference and it's not like your statistics professor took roll call, you were still in a towel, freshly showered.

“Check the hall closet. I told Jane to clean last night and I'm like one hundred percent sure she just stuffs everything in that closet. Dan's right, we're fucking her up by spoiling her too much.” You search the pile of clothes for a nice dress. Was that right for a parent teacher conference? You were 18, what did you know? Besides, you were like guardian adjacent. Not a parent.

“Okay,” Noah replies when you hear the door open and why can't you find any clean underwear, you just did laundry this is insane and you have like five minutes to leave or you will be late, “but why'd she only put away one shoe?”

“Don't goblins only steal left shoes or something,” you reply, finding clean underwear but giving up on the bra. You'd go with a blue and white plaid dress. It wasn't too revealing for school even if it was one of those back of the closet dresses you never actually wore.

You slip your underwear on under the towel as Noah reappears in jeans and a t- shirt, freshly shaved. “What if they ask too many questions?”

“They won't,” you wave off. “And if they do we can just lie.”

“You're a bad liar,” Noah teases, rifling around in the kitchen.

You toss the towel aside, trying incredibly hard to act cool and calm when you weren't anything but, as you go to pull the dress over your head. It's not like you were flashing him. You sleep next to Noah every night.

But then why did you feel so flustered right then. “Am not!” You squawk indignantly, turning over to look at him as your dress goes over your head and your boobs are no longer hanging out for the world to see (there was a point to curtains after all).

Noah goes bright pink when he realizes your half naked in the living room, as if he hasn't slept next to you for close to a year now but then again, you used to sleep in an old shirt and underwear and now you've got matching pjs because Noah and yeah you should probably do something about that like you had wanted to since the party ages ago now but there had been Redfield and Noah admitting he was in a terrible headspace and it wasn't the time and now. . .you brush the thought aside for now. You roll your eyes (because your cool and calm even if your heart’s beating erratically) and grab your purse, before joking, “so are you going to get a haircut or are you going to do the man bun thing.”

Noah groans, “Jane told me I looked like homeless dog.”

“Ouch,” You laugh, “when she say that?”

“She woke me up again last night but I got her to go to her bed this time.” He admits as you walk to Jane’s school.

“Again?” Fuck maybe she was having nightmares after all. “It has to be nightmares, but. . .” you trail off.

“I don't know,” Noah shrugs, “she says she doesn't remember. Just wakes up. But like why else would she keep waking up if it's not nightmares,” he frowns.

“Do you think they could be,” you purse your lips before continuing not wanting to be the one to bring it up but you sort of had too, “you think it's redfield related.”

“I really don't know,” he says, looking over at you with a sad smile.

Smiling softly, you squeeze his hand as you wait for the white pedestrian sign, “hey, she's got us. She'll be fine.”

Which makes you think about how Andy was right. You were such a mom. Had you mom-zoned yourself? That was good, you'd have to text that to Andy later.

Then you sigh, realizing that if you had a nightmare back then, your parents wouldn't have even been home for you to wake up. There had been weeks spent at Pine Springs and driving over to some niche science conference in Rochester or over to New Haven for a lecture.

“What,” Noah asks, intertwining your fingers with his as you cross the street.

“Just realizing how shitty my parents were,” you offer with a sad smile. What could you do about it now? You'd grown up.

“Just now,” Noah quips with a smirk.

You roll your eyes, “shut up.”

Jane’s teacher, an older black woman who's style leans close to Lily's own preppy academic choices, looks at you both skeptically. “You’re here for Jane Marshall's conference?”

Both you and Noah nod.

She doesn't look reassured.

You bump Noah's knee with yours, hoping he'll say something to clear things up. Neither of you looked old enough to be her parents. You had a serious case of baby face.

“Uh,” he says, still an eighteen year old who's spent most of his life bowing down to teachers authority. You understood, still feeling strange going to the bathroom during lecture without asking for permission. “I'm Jane’s brother.”

You nudge him again when it's clear he's done taking.

“Noah,” he manages.

You roll your eyes. “We’re her guardians,” you had gone over the story hundreds of times, “their parents passed,” you look down at you lap trying to look sad, “a few months ago.”

“Oh,” Jane’s teacher, Miss Sanders, says sympathetically. “I'm sorry to hear that.”

“Yeah well,” Noah trails off.

“Well Jane is a very outgoing girl,” Miss Sanders says, launching into her talk, “she's made lots of friends though sometimes getting her to be quiet during class time can be a challenge. She's at her grade level for reading and math. She does need more practice with writing longer sentences and,” she shuffles papers around, flipping through a red folder, before taking out some childish drawings. “These had me worried but in light of the loss she is going through, I think it's understandable.”

Each drawing is a variation of a theme: huge black blobs make up most of the page, with occasional stick drawings differentiated by hair color. Jane is obviously the girl with the red hair and triangle body. Redfield, she remembered something then.

Could it be subconscious?

You feel the blood leave your face as you look over at Noah. He looks just as shaken as you.

“It's normal for children going through the loss of a loved one, especially parents,” Miss Sanders tries, “to work through it in drawing and writing. But we could always let her talk to the school psychologist. Mrs. Hernandez is a wonderful child therapist.”

“Do you think it would help,” you ask, wondering if it was a good idea when Jane’s actual problem was of the supernatural variety. Maybe they would just assume that was her imagination, or her way of explaining away a loss.

“It couldn't hurt.”

You look over at Noah, slipping your hand into his, giving him an encouraging squeeze in his palm. It was his sister. It should be his call.

He pulls his hand out of yours, straightening up in the chair. “Yeah. That could be good.”

“Okay. I'll let Mrs. Hernandez know. That and make sure Jane’s reading books for AR. Her goal this year should 40 points if she wants to be part of the end of the year celebration.”

“I'll figure out where the library is,” you nod, “I'm sure she can find books while I study.”

“Sounds perfect. Any other questions.”

You look at Noah who shakes his head. He was starting to need a haircut. Even if you did like the way he looked with his hair loose.

“Alright then. It was lovely to meet you Mr. and Mrs. Marshall.”

“Oh,” heat builds up in your cheeks.

“We're not-”

“I'm not-,” you stammer, “I'm just a family friend.”

“Oh,” Miss Sander says, “I'm-sorry for assuming.”

“It's fine,” you manage, starting to leave. “Thank you. It was good to meet you.” You shake her hand, wanting to die inside.

“Nice to meet you as well,” she shakes Noah's hand and then you can finally leave.

You both hurry out the classroom, out the school.

“So that was,” Noah says, raising a brow.

“awful,” you finish. “But there were no red flags and we got free therapy out of it.”

Noah laughs, “I think we probably all need some therapy.”

“Rewatching arrested development isn't cutting it anymore,” you grin.

“I do feel like Gob most days.”

“Good,” you laugh.

“Really?”

“I don't trust people who identify with Michael. No self awareness.”

Noah laughs, “they are all horrible people.” His face becomes drawn, as he tucks loose strands of hair behind his ears. “How much do you think she remembers?”

You shrug, placing your hand on his arm. “I think it's probably bits and pieces. She did spend years and...she doesn't have nightmares? That's a good sign right? It's been months, she's not some creepy horror movie child?”

“Of course not,” he nods, looking down at you, with a frown. “She's fine. Jane's good.”

You smile shakily. “We're doing amazing. And she's happy if she hasn't stopped watching disney vlogs. No clue how we're going to swing that one if she asks.”

Noah matches you’re unsure smile, “take her to those rich people parks and call it disney.”

You snort. “It's Jane. That won't fool her.”

“It's Florida. We can just go to the beach.” He says with a shrug. “It'll be just as good.”

“Aren't there alligators though?”

Noah laughs at your expense. “Those are in the lakes and rivers.”

“Shut up. Want to go for pizza before you go to work?”

“Let's go get Indian food actually. There's this place I've been meaning to try but Jane’s-”

“Picky as fuck,” you say pointedly. “Like you used to be.”

Noah blushes. “Okay so my mom just cooked like kraft mac and cheese. That wasn't my fault.”

“And those pizza bites! I loved those,” you add, thinking back on all the sleepovers at their house as a kid. “I think when Jane came over was the only time I'd get to use peanut butter.” Your parents weren't around, but your nanny was philippina, you ate spice before kids discovered hot cheetos were delicious.

He snorts, running a hand through his hair. “We should probably get a car at some point.”

“Face it bro, we're broke. I keep wanting to tell you to get a haircut but we're broke.”

Noah raises a brow. “Fuck off. I look like post-Beatles George Harrison.”

“You wish you looked like George Harrison,” you tease.

The food was amazing. Lunch indian buffets were where it was at. And since you don't have a class right after, you offer to walk Noah to work, “I've got to walk off the food baby,” you tell him, before you head back to pick Jane up.

Noah laughs, “The malai kofta was just too good.”

“I should've stopped at three plates but buffets always make me think it's a food contest,” you admit. “My nanny would take me to this seafood buffet with her family around lunar new year and we’d spend all day there to try and eat our money's worth.” It had been your favorite holiday as a child, after your parents had decided you were old enough to be left behind, only a handful of years after they decided you were old enough to bring along with them, and you hadn't seen them even at christmas.

“Damn,” Noah says with an easy smile, “at least I had good times with my parents.” His smile is so fragile. That just means it hurt him more when things fell apart.

“I had nice times too. . .with your family.”

Noah cackles.

You cross the street to the diner he works at next to a retirement complex with what you think are the best waterfront views next to the hotels you can't afford.

It's strange.

Your entire life, Noah has been this huge part of it and you've always lived in a tiny town so you knew everyone he did and knew what he got up to just by living near him in a town of like 500 people or what felt like such a small amount, your elementary school only had one class for each grade but now you hug Noah goodbye even though he always tenses against you, as though he's unused to the physical affection and that just makes you hold him tighter, then he's heading inside and greeting people you probably will never know and he's having this whole part of his life your not a part of and one day he's going to go on and live his life without you and it hurts: watching him laugh with some waitress that's tall blonde and beautiful in a way you've never been.

It hurts but you suck it up and go pick Jane up from school.

“Don’t worry,” your friend says, holding your hand once she realizes you've been standing at the water's edge. It's warmer than you'd imagined as it laps at your bare feet.

Jane has not stopped smiling since you'd bought her a bathing suit at Target: a pink one piece with sloths. You'd been more nervous, not knowing how to swim. You also felt every single bite of pasta you'd had last night in your black bikini.

Damn Noah for being so good at cooking.

“I've got you,” Jane says, leading you out further into the water, over to where Noah's out, up to his waist and you're pretty see it's deeper than Jane is taller, but if Jane can do it-a wave, a massive looking wave comes crashing towards you both.

You don't hesitate to run away.

Noah points and laughs.

You flip him off once the wave passes, leaving your hair wet.

Jane grins. “It's okay. I won't let you drown.” She pulls you back out again, a perfectly happy water baby. She always had been fearless. And unlike you, as the water deepens, she starts to swim alongside you.

“See,” she laughs, “it's easy.” Then she pops down under.

You make it to Noah, figuring the water wasn't that crazy. No tsunami like waves to pull you out to sea and drown you.

Jane comes up for air, “I'm Jaws,” she yells at Noah, tackling his side.

“Ooof,” he says, exaggerating, “oh no, a shark, I'm. . .dead dying. . .”

Jane giggles.

“Do not,” you warn her. “I'm barely here as is.”

Noah rolls his eyes and you have a feeling there about to roast you: both of them.

“It's just a little water,” he teases.

“It's not even that deep,” Jane adds. “It's the beach!” She pops back down under the water as another wave rolls towards you.

“Fuck,” you mutter, tensing, as the wave soaks what's left of your dry hair, splashing salty water into your mouth.

Jane pops her head back up, strawberry hair plastered to her head, smiling so wide. It's November and it's still warm enough to go to the beach. Even the rain here isn't cold that way it was back home.

The world was so much bigger than Westchester.

Noah reaches his hand out to yours. You take it easily, stepping closer to him, pushing your wet hair out of your face.

He had the right idea, now looking more like the fifth beatle than a shaggy haired hippie. Less to deal with at the beach.

“You okay,” he smirks.

“Shut up. I can't swim. You know that.” You'd complained about it a hundred times as they both forced you off the pile of towels where you had planned to read through your notes. Studying, it was gross.

“You're,” Noah rolls his eyes, “it's like three feet. You're not going to drown.”

“What if,” you counter, “I trip and swallow water and drown.”

“That's not going to happen. What you can't stand up?”

“Don't,” you warn.

He smirks, “it's because you're short.”

“Asshole,” you say, smacking his bare chest. Nothing you haven't seen, you tell yourself. Act normal, you reminded yourself.

“It is!” Noah crouches down a couple inches to your height.

You roll your eyes-

-and laugh when Jane launches herself onto her brother's back.

“I'm an orca!”

Noah lets go of your hand to regain his balance. “Wow there shamu.”

Jane frowns. “Sea world is evil. Ava and I watched Blackfish.”

You vaguely remember some orca documentary that you had mostly slept through. Taking care of Jane was hard and you had fallen asleep in those early weeks whenever you got the chance.

“No seaworld then,” you shrug.

“But I do wanna go to Disneyworld. I wanna go on the star wars ride!”

“You don't even watch Star Wars,” Noah points out.

“I would if we went to Disneyworld. My birthday is coming up.”

“No it's not,” you frown. They were April babies.

“I think you mean my birthday,” Noah says playfully.”

“I was born first,” Jane yells.

“So, I'm taller.”

You roll your eyes, sinking down to your neck. The water was nice. “You better throw yourself into the water if I start drowning,” you warn Noah.

“Yeah yeah,” he says with a soft smile, “I'm not going to let you drown.”

Jane nods in agreement, “I'll kick him if he does.”

You laugh, happy to spend the days with the Marshall twins.

Bells don't ring, but the whole class knows when class is over, shoving their papers away into bags as soon as there's a minute left.

You leave English happily enough. It was a fun class, with plenty of movies and conversation that you were able to make friends in, unlike other lecture heavy classes where you had five minutes before class to talk during.

Sasha and Kevin both walk with you out of the lecture hall. “Have you started studying for the midterm,” Sasha asks, “I really don't want to write two in class essays. Multiple choice is where it's at.”

“I'd rather have an in class essay,” Kevin says, “and Professor Laux said it's just one. But he'd give us two prompts.”

You wrinkle your nose. “I love english I just hate the writing part. Or rather the long essays.”

“At least your not a computer science major,” Sasha counters, “physics is so much worse.”

“Not as bad as o chem.”

“O chem is not that bad,” Sasha counters.

You shrug, “art history major,” you grin smugly.

Kevin shakes his head, “just wait until you have to find a job.”

“Grad school. Both my parents love that shit. They'd help me pay for it.” They both had Ph.Ds.

“I wish my parents helped me pay for school,” Sasha complains again, “they are such hard asses about school but they want me to pay for everything, and live at home-can you imagine how many house parties I've missed to work at the movie theater.”

“Speaking of house parties,” Kevin pushes his glasses up his broad nose, “we're throwing this pre thanksgiving bash at my place. Beer. Snacks. Weed.”

“Shouldn't you be studying for midterms,” you ask, shaking your head. You also hadn't figured out what you were doing for the holiday. You had Jane and Noah now. It had to be special.

“Pfft. I will,” Kevin says. “You're only twenty once am I right?”

Sasha shakes her head. “Okay. But I'm stealing some weed.”

“You in?” They both look at you.

Noah's off Monday and Wednesday, when you get out too late to go pick up Jane. You can't leave her by herself, not that you would want to. You were looking forward to going to waste time at the mall and buy snacks at target: your usual Friday night.

You shake your head, “Can't. I've got Jane on the weekends. Babysitters are expensive.”

“Just tell your parents to look after your sister,” Kevin says petulantly.

You hadn't really explained things. It was complicated. Redfield had really messed up your life. Jane should be your age and going to house parties with you. But you'd have her alive in any shape or form so long as you got to see her. “Umm, actually,” you decide to explain a little, the practiced version, “her parents died a few months ago. They were-they were really close family friends and practically raised me so,” you trail off, thinking about how exactly to explain Noah. He was your best friend, a childhood friend, and. . .that was it.

“Oh shit, I'm sorry.”

“Yeah-”

“Well, if you're even able to figure it out,” Kevin says, “hit me up.”

You wave them goodbye and rush to your next class.

Noah's hair is still damp as he lays down on his side of the bed.

You were still going over your art history notes, wanting to go over the dates of the list of paintings you'd have to identify on tomorrow's quiz. The names were easy since styles even within art movements varied so much. It was a little harder in regulated art worlds: the buddhists of southeast asia didn't go outside their geometric ratios.

“You've been studying all day,” Noah says with a yawn. He no longer smelled like burnt oil.

“Yeah, I have a quiz.” You're sitting cross legged on your side of the bed. “It's on art identification.”

“That's what googles for,” he snarks back.

It was past midnight. Jane had been asleep for three hours.

“Smart ass.” You shut your notebook. The numbers had started swimming in your eyes a while ago. Nothing more was going to stick in your brain.

You turn off the light on your side.

“You're the smart one,” Noah laughs, “I'm just an asshole.”

“Oh,” you smile in the dark, highly aware of his body laying next to you, carefully keeping your leg from brushing against his skin. “You're self aware too!”

“Dick.”

“Takes one to know one.”

You lay in silence, listening to the sounds outside your windows, the cars passing by even at this hour, Noah breathing next to you. It was soothing, having people you loved with you. It wasn't lonely being home all the time.

Noah shifts onto his side: facing you.

You stare up at the ceiling, black from the curtains pulled right even as the window let the breeze in. It had been raining the past few days, but the cold days don't hold a candle to Westchester this time of year.

“Thank you.”

“For what,” you ask, smiling freely.

“What do you mean,” he pitches his voice higher, “for what? For everything.”

You giggle. “I haven't done much.”

Noah's tone is dead serious the next time he speaks. “You didn't have to help . . .with Jane. I don't know how I would've made it work without you, so yeah. Thank you. I didn't even ask-I wouldn't have asked you to give up college and partying-”

You have to stop him right there. “I didn't give shit up Noah.” He could be so dumb sometimes. If he had just told you Jane was Redfield, you would've helped him from day one to save her. But there was no point in bringing that up: just more salt in the wound. “And you didn't have to ask me: I wasn't just going to let you flounder alone. I wanted to-I wanted to be with you and Jane. That was never a question.” Heat flares up in the skin of your cheeks and nose as you smile, before you turn onto your side, looking over at Noah in the dark.

You can't really see him at all.

Thank fuck.

It's bad enough that you feel so flustered you might explode from the emotions swirling about in your chest. You don't know what to do about Noah, about your feelings for him.

Months ago, you would've just bitten the bullet and kissed him, but he'd also opened up about not feeling ready at all about relationships and you will not fuck things up for either of you. It had been easy with Connor when all the lights were green as he was clearly into you and responded right back.

It had been light and a way to not think about the terror of your day to day life for a few moments.

But it wasn't Connor you thought about so much your skin got all hot as you looked out the window during lecture.

You swallow thickly, squashing those feelings into some back corner of your mind.

“Thank you though, I don't know what I would have done without you.”

“Don't be dumb. It's getting rid of me that'll be hard.” You could admit now, “Now that I know what it's like to have people in the house to kill spiders, I'm never leaving,” you felt lonely in your childhood house all through high school.

“I don't think Jane would let you leave.” Noah laughs.

“True,” you sigh. “it's nice not to come home to an empty house.”

“Our childhoods were so messed up,” he replies softly.

“It's like the gift that never stops giving. But hey, who cares. I have you two and my parents monthly deposits-and FAFSA!” You laugh, because what else could you do, wallow in self deprecating angst like Noah? You weren't sure you could beat him at his own game. “As far as I'm concerned, you're my family now. . .both of you.”

“When did you become a walking talking greeting card?”

“Asshole.”

Noah laughs.

It's a sound you love. For so long, it had been so rare. It warms you up, blots out all the horrible shit you've gone through and makes everything okay.

You fall asleep smiling.

Sasha settles in your ikea bland table with her bag full of notebooks and textbooks. “I wish I had my own place.”

Next week was finals.

Next week was going to kick your ass.

Matthew looks up from his calculus solutions manual for the first time in an hour, “it really depends on the roommates, mine eat all my snacks.”

“Hide them in your room,” you suggest, opening your computer up to the study guide the TA had sent out last week. “With your underwear or something.”

Jane giggles as she watches spongebob on the TV. Fourth graders had it easy. The upcoming winter break meant Jane was practically doing arts and crafts all week.

You open up a notebook to a fresh page as you write down all the key items from the study guide, underlining key items. You wanted to knock the art essays out of the park. It wasn't as easy to bullshit those as it was to make up themes for an english paper.

Fuck, you were already pretty much done with a semester at college.

Jane had almost been back for over a year.

“Can I see your midterm,” Sasha asks, “I want to see what comments you got.”

You fish it out from your binder. “Go for it.”

Matthew looks up from his pages worth of calculus, “I hate math. I should've just done an anthropology major.”

“Sucks to be an overachiever,” you snark, annotating your notes with a pink gel pen. You had never cared to study much in high school, but a major you actually cared for made all the difference in the world. You wanted museums and van goghs and the asmr of cleaning paintings like in youtube videos.

“I didn't think double majoring would be like this,” Matthew sighs. “I haven't slept in three years.”

Sasha shakes her head, “just go for the one you like the most.”

“So I can be unemployed with tons of student debt?”

“Or get that grant money,” you wiggle your eyebrows. It was what your parents were up to.

“That would mean a PhD,” he complains, but doesn't look completely turned off by the idea. “And I could put off figuring my life out for another four years. . .”

Sasha laughs, flipping through flash cards with a bunch of arrows and equations written on them. Physics.

Intro to Biology was so much easier. You practically only had to remember high school biology and read through the study guide a few times. You could remember the difference between eukaryotic cells and prokaryotic cells.

Sasha suggests ordering Pizza hut as Jane starts asking for food and you feel like yeah, a study break sounds good.

“Four hours is the max people can concentrate for,” Matthew says, as he eats a third slice of pizza.

“So we're done for the day,” Sasha asks, getting up to stretch, and joining Jane on the couch. She'd been an angel, sort of, content to just watch tv all afternoon as you studied. Sure, she'd raised the volumes to movie theater standards every half an hour, but other than that-an angel.

“If you're good for the day.” You were nervous. You didn't want to be a C student anymore. You wanted to try. Surely you had inherited some of your parents brain cells.

“I am,” Sasha admits. “I've been studying every day for four hours. My brain has melted.”

“Honestly,” Matthew says, “I just started studying. The semester seemed so long.”

“Same though bro,” You grin. “All the tests and quizzes went right out of my mind as soon as I was done.”

Sasha shakes her head. “Well, I'm taking a slice for the road. See you around.” She leaves.

Jane joins you and Matthew at the table, licking the pizza grease off her fingers. “I like Noah's pizza better.”

You wince. A cook you were not. “Well, he's working.”

��I know.”

“Noah?” Matthew says, clearly a question.

“My brother,” Jane says flippantly. “They sleep together.”

You're face burns; you want the earth to swallow you whole right then and there. “We live together,” you explain to Matthew who looks more confused. “Jane go watch TV.”

She sends an annoyed look at you, before running off.

“Noah's her brother. They're family friends-” you explain lamely.

“You don't have to explain anything to me,” Matthew says sweetly. “It's your business.”

“Yeah,” you push your hair behind your ears, feeling out of whack. Matthew was cute, but it wasn't like you wanted to jump his bones. He made sociology bearable. “Can you look over my paper? I'm still not sure I got the sources incorporated right-”

“Yeah. Sure. I didn't know sociology 101 would include writing research papers.”

“Everything was going good until I remembered we had that paper due,” Matthew agrees.

You study for another hour, mostly giving each other feedback on your research paper. “It would've helped if he'd given us examples,” you mutter.

“Right.”

Jane tugs on your arm. “Come play with me,” ignoring your classmate entirely.

“Yeah. Sure,” you smile tiredly. You were at your study limit. “Want to call it a night,” you ask Matthew who nods and grabs his things.

Jane scrutinizes him the entire time. She puts her hands on top of the empty pizza box.

“I don't like him,” she pouts, “He's boring. Who studies?”

“Boring college students,” you laugh. “He's fine. We have sociology together. We're also taking english literature pre 1800s together next semester. It was that or latin literature which sounds really pretentious.”

Jane giggles. “Let's play uno!”

“Okay, but just one game. You still have to take a shower before bed.”

“I don't want to take a shower,” Jane protests, “I want to be a horrible reeking troll! Rawr!” She chases you around the living room.

You burst out laughing, letting her tackle you to the floor. It was easy to forget how stressed out you were about finals when you had Jane.

You take deep breaths as you scramble to find your sneakers. It got cold in lecture halls.

Noah makes coffee, “you're going to do fine.”

“I'm going to fail and flunk out of university and my parents are going to hate me forever and i'll never get a job and take Jane to disney world,” you groan, slumping at the counter with a hand on your forehead. You should've studied all night. Why had you bothered going to sleep?

Noah pours you a tumbler full of coffee, with the hazelnut creamer that basically turned the coffee into a hot chocolate, “you've been studying all week. You might not be Lucas levels of 110% on a rest but you're going to do great. I know it,” he says with a genuine smile.

You blush. “I hope all the studying has worked. I've never tried this hard in school.”

“Yeah,” Noah nods with a soft smile. “High school sucked.”

“It did.” You take a sip of your coffee, hoping to steady your nerves.

He looks good in the morning light, before it's too hot to exist. Winter in florida meant temperatures in the low 70s, laughably temperate. Noah's wearing the same boxers he'd gone to sleep in, with a soft worn in grey t-shirt, and a serious case of bed head as his hair curls around his ears in the most adorable mop top.

If you didn't have finals to head to, this would be the perfect morning.

“You're going to do amazing sweetie,” Noah chuckles in the dickish way of his.

You snort, shaking your head. “Fuck yeah I will.”

“That's the spirit.”

You shove your feet into your beat up vans, grab your backpack. “See you later,” you smile at Noah.

“Yeah, good luck,” he says, putting his mug of coffee down on the counter and leaning down. One second he's smiling down at you, and in the next one he's pressing his lips against yours.

Holy fuck.

Your eyes widen.

Was this really happening, or were you just that tired.

“Shit,” Noah stammers, pulling away quickly. “I-”

You raise a brow, “What-”

“It was an accident. Sorry.” Noah steps back, running a hand through his hair, pink up to the tips of his ears.

You feel a bit like a deflated balloon. “What even was that?” Because what it seemed like was like he'd kissed you but-how do you accidentally kiss someone. No-this was way too much for you to dea with at the moment.

“I just-nothing. Just forget it,” Noah says. “I'm going back to sleep.”

“See you later,” you try, feeling all messed up. Had he wanted to kiss you? Was this you messing up for the both of you?

You wish you could call Lily right now, but you had a final to get to.

It's Christmas day, technically.

Jane's been asleep for hours and Noah's taking a bite out of the cookies laid out for Santa as you watch it's a wonderful life trying to puzzle out how this was a Christmas classic. It was boring.

Things had been so awkward with Noah as of late, as you both danced around the kiss, that you had let Jane talk you into a sleepover in her room almost every night. There was no way you could lay there next to Noah and not think yourself to death. Absolutely no way.

You had wrapped up her gifts in baby yoda christmas themed wrapping paper: an assortment of more clothes because Jane really didn't have much considering she had basically popped into life a year ago, random books you remembered liking in elementary and middle school, and toys that you had definitely splurged on including a two hundred dollar set of legos that you looked forward to building with her. It had been hard to keep it secret from her when you all spent the majority of your time together. Stacey had sent a big care package for all of you. Lily had sent gifts through the post office. Lucas’ contribution was a few amazon packages.

All your friends had sent something.

It was touching, considering the distance. You couldn't wait to see them again-Ava wanted to visit in the summer.

You flip the channel, deciding Full House reruns were better.

“Not Full House,” Noah groans, turning the kitchen light off.

“Let me guess. You're a Die Hard fan?”

“Best christmas movie,” he grins.

You shake your head. He could be such a guy. And just like that, the tension between you two dissipates. “No way. The Grinch is the best. The 2001 one anyway.”

You click the side table lamp off.

Noah sits down next to you as you flick through the channels, trying to find something to watch. “Bob's burgers?”

“Sounds good.”

It's dark. The volume’s on low. You're all curled up in bed, and Noah's not being weird-it helps that you're trying to be chill about it.

“How did your finals go?”

“Well I didn't flunk out,” you shrug. “I got a C in sociology but a B in everything else.” It was fine. It's not like you were a sociology major.

“I told you you'd do good.”

“Yeah,” you sigh, laying down entirely, ignoring the tv. “I just figured all the studying would...I don't know, mean I'd get straight As?”

“It's college-isn't it supposed to be like super hard or whatever,” Noah says with a shrug.

“I guess.” You just wished you were that kind of student. Even seeing how hard the effort was on Lucas’ mental health, maybe your parents might visit if you did get straight As. It was dumb. “I just figured my parents might pay attention if I did get all As.”

“Fuck your parents,” he says easily.

You snort. “Shut up. They pay like half the rent.”

“The least they could do.”

“Yeah,” you sigh. “Did you ever want to go to college? You know like when we had to write colleges letters in fifth grade, or was it sixth?”

“Naw. School was never my thing,” Noah says in the quiet of the night.

You smile softly, tilting your head so you're looking at him, the moonlight illuminating the angles of his jaw as it poured in through the windows. “Then it was always culinary school for you?”

He shrugs. “Yeah-I mean,” he closes his eyes, thinking silently. “I'm a little too dumb for school. I could never get the whole trig thing or what Shakespeare was saying let alone the subtext.”

You sit up. “Shut up,” you state, slapping his bicep lightly. “Don't say that shit.”

“It's true.”

You shift, closer to his side of the bed, closer to him still lying there staring up at the ceiling, not meeting your searching gaze. “You're not dumb. Noah-you are not dumb. You're so fucking smart-who remembered to buy toilet paper and figured out how to rent an apartment?”

“You can google that shit,” he says, covering his face with his hand, embarrassed.

“And cooking takes skill. Maybe it's not mensa harvard type smarts, but it's not nothing!” You just wanted him to see himself the way you did. You're sitting up on your knees now, as his expressive wide eyes meet yours, a dark romantic brown you could drown in, staring down at him. “Say it! Say you're smart and clever and amazing!”

“I'm not saying that,” he laughs off.

“Say, I'm fucking smart and I can do anything,” you repeat, nudging his chest.

Noah smiles and it does all sorts of things to you, makes your pulse race as heat winds its way all hot under your skin, all hot and bothered and feeling giddy like a dumbass and you never meet someone who felt like home the way it is with Noah. “I'm fucking smart,” he says quietly, rolling his eyes, “and I can do anything.”

“We're going to have to work on that,” you laugh, belatedly realizing you're almost on top of him. Well, you are on top of him, you're knees are by his waist, but you're leaning over him and fuck you want him. The way he's laying there under you, looking like the sun shines out of your ass, it's thrilling.

“We will,” Noah says, wiggling his brows in a way that has you laughing into his chest.

Then you're looking up at him, unable to catch your breath, because you can't stop laughing and it's not like you're particularly comedic but-fuck it, you lean up and kiss him. It's what you've been itching to do since the party at-fuck, you don't even remember, but you remember finding him there and realizing he's what you had been missing, the reason you didn't feel like being there until you sat by the pool with him.

He's Noah and you're you and there's not a version of you that doesn't love him to bits; there's not a version of you that doesn't go with him to face the monster and rescue Dan and would give your life for him and Jane. Always. Because he's Noah-

You lean down and kiss him, trying to communicate the depth of this feeling.

It wasn't some crush.

Or some drunken affair at a house party.

You kiss his lips with a dizzying fever that burns hot under your skin as desire builds in the pit of your stomach: a bundle of nerves sparking to life. And he kisses you back, his hand cupping your cheek. His thumb rubbing circles into your skin.

You tremble under his gentle touch, afraid that this too would disappear in your hands. You were so used to losing: to getting nothing.

Noah stares up wide eyed at you when you pull away.

You bite your bottom lip.

“I-,” he stutters.

“I've really been wanting to do that for a long time,” you confess.

“Me too.”

You swallow thickly at his confession. “Then it wasn't...it wasn't an accident,” you ask carefully.

Noah shakes his head once. “No. That-I just, I didn't want to mess up something good just because I wanted something more.” He looks so heartbroken in that second-

“Noah,” you sigh gently. “I was surprised and thinking about school but I've-I would've kissed you then if my head hadn't been so far up my own ass.”

He snorts, the line of his shoulders relaxing under your hands. “After what happened- I was lucky that you even wanted to talk to me at all. I didn't think you'd want anything to do with me and then I thought it was just for Jane,” Noah admits painfully.

“I've always loved you.” You tell him. “And I'm going to keep telling you until it gets through that thick skull of yours.”

Noah chuckles.

“So are we on the same page?”

He rakishly raises a brow with a shit eating grin on his lips, “I don't know, are you gonna kiss me again?”

You vow to wipe that look off his face as you do more than press your lips hungrily against his, your hands against his chest as you shift once more, situating yourself and getting comfortable straddling his waist with your legs. You press hard kisses to his mouth as Noah kisses you back with the same fervor; you nibble on his bottom lip, bringing it between your teeth.

It's an exercise in breathlessness, a mexican stand-off in which both sides are ready and happy to pull the trigger because of the rush of blood to your head as you taste him on your lips. It's intoxicating the way in which he kisses your mouth and you forget the need to breathe.

But you, smiling against the skin of his jaw as you catch your breath. His chest rises and falls under your hands as he laughs giddily, feeling as crazy as you do.

It's not that epic romeo and juliet love that burns and destroys, but the fullness in your heart as you lay there with him.

You plant kisses down his jaw, savoring the hitches in his breath as you nip on the skin at the crook of his neck. “Is this okay,” you ask wickedly.

“Fuck,” Noah utters, voice breaking as he sucks in air. “Yeah-”

He cups your cheek with his hand and leads you up, brings you back where he can kiss you again. Noah kisses you-he lets himself kiss you. His tongue experimentally whetting against your all too willing lips before your mouth opens up to him and it's clear in the clumsy way he's eager to explore your mouth--the boy has no idea what he's doing.

It's fine.

You smile against his mouth, taking charge and running your tongue against his. Reaching for his free hand and guiding it, inviting him to explore the shape of your body in an oversized t-shirt and tiny booty shorts that you wouldn't even take the trash out in.

Noah does, clasping your hips with his hand as you binch up the fabric of his shirt in your hands as you lose yourself in kissing him, in drinking him in like a comfort series you could endlessly rewatch.

You're both breathless, as you lay your head down on his chest, content.

“That was,” Noah says all out of sorts, “wow.”

“Guess you're going to be the next great american writer,” you tease.

He rolls his eyes, running his hand up your side.

“Hey,” you continue, relaxing into his touch, “Hemingway was a man of few words.”

“Was he the alcoholic one?”

“I think a lot of writers were,” you admit. “I tried to read his whale book but it was boring as fuck.”

“Moby Dick,” Noah says thoughtfully, “did Hemingway write Moby Dick?”

“Who cares,” you reply, pressing a kiss against the edge of his lips, fine with spending the wee hours of the morning making out with Noah.

“Well now I want to know.”

“Really,” you tease, bringing your hand up, running your fingers through his soft hair.

His eyes close. Noah leans into your touch. “I'll google it later.”

You giggle.

Then he’s kissing you again and you could care less about books and long dead writers. Noah captures your lips with his and you intertwine your fingers in his hair, a hand on his chest, wondering what it would feel like to have his bare skin against yours and caught between the enormity of your want and letting things happen naturally. It was Noah. You didn’t want to rush him.

You were still amazed he’d kissed you back,that he wanted you the same way you wanted him. The love had never been the point of contention between you two. You loved him at nine and you loved him at nineteen.

Noah losses some of his hesitation, his hands sliding down your side until they reach the swell of your hips straddling his waist. Then his hand slips under the fabric of your shirt and you moan into his mouth at the sensation of his fingers splayed against to taunt muscles of your abdomen.

It’s just flaring want consuming you whole.

“Is that,” Noah manages between bated breaths, “okay?”

You kind of want to shake his shoulders and say shut up and keep going, because you might just combust in the next few minutes if he keeps going like this, this clumsy tenderness mixed with the assault of his body discovering yours. “Yeah,” you stammer out, more feeling than young woman. “Great actually.”

Noah chuckles, trailing kisses down your neck as you lean back a little, before pulling away. . .before pulling your shirt over your head.

He sucks in a breath at the sight of your naked torso.

You can’t help the headyness in your chest at his reaction, at the way you were affecting him. “Like what you see,” you grin, all brash confidence that threatened to topple over like a house of cards at every turn, at the shift of his body under yours.

For once, Noah doesn’t have some smartass comment, just reaches his hands to your cheeks and pulls you down flush against him.

Fuck.

You kiss him feverishly, your hands finding the hem of his shirt as running yours fingers against the sliver of skin.

Noah moans into your mouth and you swear you can’t even function at the sound. The entire world is boiled down to you and him, him and you, and building pressure in your belly that threatens to explode.

“The shirt-,” you stutter out, half out of your mind.

“Yeah,” he obliges, sitting up and tugging it off.

And then you’re melting against him, the warmth of his skin against yours. Your breasts flush against his bare chest. Your toes curl up as you sigh, hands clutching at his neck, at his cheek, at the ends of his hair.

You kiss his jaw, you suck on the skin of his jaw and none of it is enough. Fuck, you want him so bad. You’re so fucking horny. It’s not like you’d been with a lot of people. But it had been over a year since your last sexual encounter.

And that might explain part of it-

Noah cups one of your breast with the palm of his hand, and fuck-

Your mind blanks as you moan his name. “Noah,” you whimper.

He kisses your collarbone, smiling against your skin.

“Do you want to-,” he asks, sounding more self assured by the word.

“Yes, yes,” you eagerly answer, kissing him hungrily. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Noah laughs breathlessly.

Then he’s whimpering as you run your fingers under the waistband of his boxers.

His hand closes around your wrist before you can get further, “condom?”

“Fuck,” you swear. This was so unsexy of you both. But it wasn’t like you had a reason to buy condoms along with pads and fruit snacks. “I think I have one,” you vaguely remember there being one in your wallet.

“I really hope you do.”

“Jerk.”

With great reluctance, you crawl off him to go look for your purse. You had to stop throwing it wherever and hang it up. It would've made it easier to find right now.

You don’t look back at Noah, even though you can feel his heavy gaze on you. The airs filled with static electricity as you rifle around and find the slim black bag.

It’s another few minutes of fishing through its contents before you find the thin small envelope that you were pretty sure you’d gotten in health or at planned parenthood at some point. Ava had definitely been there.

When you turn around, Noah’s sat up in bed, in your bed, in the bed you two share, have shared for months. It’s too dark to make out the expression on his features from this distance, but it’s under his dark eyes that you make your way back to him.

You push your shorts and underwear down in one go, discarding them by the side of the bed, taking care not to lose the condom (you were going on another target run asap) before you’re once again straddling his waist, feeling Noah already hard under your thigh.

“I’ve,” he starts as you sit up on your knees, feeling incredibly vulnerable. “I’ve never done this before.”

“Oh.” You’re off kilter. Does he not want to? It’s fine. You’re just surprised. It’s Noah. He’s tall and funny even if you want to strangle him half the time --he can cook-- and he’s so fucking hot when he’s not being adorkable. You’re surprised. “We don’t. . .have to.”

He sits up under you. “No. It’s,” Noah blushes, “I want to, it’s just-you should know?”

“Oh. Okay,” you lean in, kissing him with a tenderness he deserves in spades, “if you’re sure.”

Noah grasps your hips in his hands, pulling you in, “I’m sure.”

He kisses you.

You push him down onto the bed by his shoulders. His eyes are full of trust as he looks up at you, full of love like the moon on a clear night. You carefully open the condom up.

Noah shimmies his boxers off.

And because you’re you, you reach down and stroke his cock with your hand.

He shuts his eyes, moaning your name as he throws his head back into the bed, his back arching.

You wait a moment for him to still underneath you, before you roll the condom onto his cock, letting your desire carry your through as you fumble a bit. Again, you didn’t exactly have much experience on Noah. You just had some experience.

You lean down flush against him, kissing his lips, as you guide his cock to the apex of your thighs and part your legs, moaning into his mouth as he enters your soaked entrance. Noah stretches you out, leaving you a trembling mess, faring no better than he currently was under you, as his hips thrust against you and you-fuck!

It’s a tangle of limbs as you wrap your arms around him, lacing your fingers behind his neck, wanting more, and more as your hips more erratically against his.

Noah is all kisses and moans and his fingers bruising the skin of your hips as he presses you closer against him.

You don’t really know or care about anything but the feel of his cock inside you, as he thrusts with fervor, and clutches you near. You just want and want and stars dance across your eyelids as your skin catches fire, the heat in your belly finally boiling over as you fuck him, grinding your hips against his.

You splutter, reaching your climax while topping the boy you’ve been in love with for what might as well be your whole life. It’s just your strained voice, repeating his name, “Noah,” like it’s an answer to the whole meaning of life bullshit.

Good.

Bad.

It always comes back to him.

Noah.

He comes against you a second later, your name a sharp breath on his lips, before he goes as boneless as you feel. You’re on cloud fucking nine.

It’s a feeling no amount of weed can come close to.

Exhausted, you get off of him, slumping into a puddle on the bed. Fucking Florida. You were too hot and sweaty to curl under the blankets now.

“I fucking love you.”

“Oh,” you snipe back, feeling all warm and fuzzy inside, “now that I’ve fucked you you tell me.”

“Shut up,” Noah manages. “You know what I mean.”

“Yeah, yeah. Go toss the condom.”

He sits up slowly, “oh this episode’s my favorite.”

You’d completely forgotten about Bob’s Burgers reruns playing on the TV.

It’s New Year’s Eve and the three of you are eating ice cream on the beach. Only in Florida.

“And why can’t I go in the water?”

“Because you don’t have your bathing suit,” Noah tells Jane for the hundredth time.

“I promise I’ll just stick my feet in.”

“I’ve heard that one before,” you shake your head.

She frowns. “I promise!”

What the heck. It’s not like you were going anywhere else after this. “Okay. But you have to finish your ice cream first.”

“Wow,” Noah says, throwing his arm around your shoulder and leaning his weight against you, making you stumble in the sand. “What a pushover.”

“Me!” You reply, offended. “You let her stay home for no reason.”

The twins exchange glances. “She had chickenpox,” Noah shrugs shamelessly.

“And I’m the Queen of England.”

“Korean skincare does miracles.”

You roll your eyes at him, “shut up.”

Jane giggles easily as she decides this patch of sand is the one, and sits down, licking her rocky road ice cream happily.

“Jane,” you ask gently.

“Yeah?”

“Do you remember why you’re ten and we’re not?” It had been bugging you, ever since the parent teacher conference. There had been no more nightmares since September, but it bothered you, that she might remember anything. That Jane might not want to tell you. You couldn’t help her if she didn’t tell you.

She shrugs. “Not really,” with a child’s ability to shrug things off.

Noah asks the question you’ve been dreading. “Do you remember Redfield?”

Jane looks at you both, frowning. “Who?”

Your shoulders sag with relief. You hide it with a bite of your ice cream cone. Jane had a habit of picking up on things.

“No one important,” Noah brushes off, running a hand through his hair.

“You guys are being weird,” Jane complains. “Is this about you two being gross together? I saw you holding hands.” She narrows her eyes at you accusingly. “Don’t you remember boys have cooties.” She shakes her head. “Grown ups.”

“Jane,” Noah squeaks.

You laugh, covering your mouth with the back of your hand. “Yeah. We thought you should know.” It was better to leave the whole Redfield business behind. She didn’t need that shit weighing her down. “I don’t know. I like your brother a lot for some reason. Ava says it’s trauma induced codependency but she’s Ava so. . .”

Jane frowns again, letting the ice cream drip onto the sand as she thinks. “Does that mean I’m getting a sister?”

It’s your turn to be flabbergasted, as your skin reddens into a ripe tomato. “What!”

“It’s only fair,” she explains. “If you get my brother then I should get a new sister.”

“How about a stuffed animal,” you barter.

“You let me play five Nights at Freddies?”

“No way Jane,” Noah says, shaking his head. “It’ll give you nightmares.”

“What about minecraft,” you try. “Just on Fridays though.”

“Okay. i don’t want my ice cream anymore. I want to go play in the water.”

You nod, kicking your shoes off. “Okay yeah. Let’s go throw it away. I’m sick of mine too.”

You toss the ice cream and race Jane into the waves.

#noah marshall #ilitw noah #noah x mc #it lives in the woods #jane marshall #mine #theyre like 18/19 theyre not lasting long during sex #but also i love mc and noah having shit parents and then turning around and being much better parents #to jane #ABUSE DOES NOT DEFINE YOU #okay but also mc and noah being soulmates and being that couple thats known each other their whole lives #i love

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1dffchallenges · 4 years

Photo

Growing Pains

Written By: @rosegoldsweetpea

Characters: (Daniella/Harry)

Summary: When a wish on a sixteenth birthday candle goes wrong, Daniella finds herself ten years into the future. Navigating a new boyfriend, her best friend who is no longer her best friend, and her crumbling relationship with her family, Daniella finds out that adulthood is not everything she ever imagined.

A “13 Going on 30″ AU

Warnings: Language

I had boobs.

I should preface this by saying that I’ve technically always had boobs. They existed before this moment. But they had always been tiny. They were what my mother affectionately called “mosquito bites.” As I held my new boobs in my hands, however, I could tell these were not mosquito bites. These were actual boobs that I saw on models in magazines. I wasn’t wearing a bra— which I hadn’t needed to wear anyway because the size of my boobs had always left something to be desired. Lifting my silk sleep shirt away from my boobs, I examined every inch of them. Sure enough, there was a small scar underneath, like someone had cut my boob open with a knife.

“I got a boob job?” I whispered to myself.

“What did you say, babe?”

Along with suddenly having boobs, apparently there was someone in my house.

I screamed at the top of my lungs, the one thing my father taught me to do whenever there was a stranger around me. The man standing behind me had floppy brunette hair and tattoos covering his arms. Definitely not someone who would ever be allowed in my house, per my father’s rules. In fact, I think my father would have an aneurysm if I ever brought home a boy that had tattoos. This mystery boy’s eyes widened when I screamed in his face. “Babe, are you okay?” He moved like he was going to rush over to me and I took an immediate leap back.

“Who are you? Why are you in my house?” My voice screeched out, reaching an octave I knew was probably unpleasant to his ears.

His eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean?” He moved again, but I was quick to mirror his movements, scooting backwards. I nearly fell on my ass because there was a couch in the way of my step, but I managed to right myself before I did any real damage. “Daniella, are you okay?”

“How do you know my name?” I asked, grabbing the nearest object to use as a weapon. It happened to be a pillow, so it wasn’t very effective, but it made me feel better. I could throw it at him and block his vision while I found the kitchen in this place and got a knife. “Who are you?” I asked again.

“Liam. Your boyfriend of three and a half years.”

“I don’t know a Liam!” I argued, throwing the pillow in his direction. I didn’t stick around to see if he caught it or not before I was tumbling through the house. I wasn’t familiar with the layout of this house, like I had been with the floorplan of my childhood home, which I was fairly certain I had fallen asleep in last night. This was some kind of apartment, decorated with too many neutrals for my taste. There was a giant mirror I passed by, decorated around its edge with swirling cream wood and gold accents. I managed only a glance in its reflection as I moved, but what I saw made me stop in my tracks.

In the reflection was me, only it wasn’t me. Last I remembered, I did not have a boob job, my hair was short, and my eyebrows had looked horrendous because I had accidentally plucked them too much. This Daniella had long hair that fell to her lower back and her eyebrows looked like they had been recently waxed. And then there was, obviously, the boob job. “What the hell is going on?” I exclaimed, sure that this mirror was some fancy one that only Bill Gates owned. It showed you what you wanted to look like. Or, if it was a real mirror and not a billionaire one, it was obviously broken or something.

“Daniella, sit down,” Liam said placatingly, his voice soft and soothing. He didn’t touch me, which I appreciated, but he kept his arms out in the likely case that I would fall to my knees as I dragged myself to the tan couch in the middle of the living room of the random apartment. “Do you need water? Did you have a bad dream?”

“I don’t know what’s happening,” I stuttered out, my breathing coming quickly. I hadn’t had a panic attack since I was thirteen, when I had thought my best friend Harry was going to move away. “Where am I?”

“You’re in your apartment.” Liam gently sat on the couch next to me. “I woke up and you were gone. Then I came out here and you’re just standing in the living room. Do you think you had a sleepwalking episode?”

I didn’t sleepwalk. At least, I didn’t think I did. But this Liam guy was insinuating that I did, in fact, sleepwalk often enough for him to be concerned about it. “You’re really my boyfriend?” I asked hesitantly, my breathing still shallow. “You didn’t try to drug me and kidnap me, right?”

“What?” The word left his mouth in such a surprised and offended tone that I knew it wasn’t true. “No.”

“Tell me facts about myself, so I know you aren’t just lying,” I demanded, trying to keep my tears at bay and my breath from coming in and out shallowly.

He didn’t even take a second to think. “Your name is Daniella Araceli Rodriguez. Your birthday is February first. Your mother’s name is Alejandra. You once threw up on a cast member at Disneyland. When you were younger, you wanted to be a veterinarian, but then found out that they were the ones who euthanized animals and you started crying. You broke your arm in the seventh grade because your old best friend Harry dared you to flip over some monkey bars and you fell.”

Okay, so obviously this boy knew me. Either that, or he was a fantastic stalker.

“Liam, I think I’m going crazy,” I whispered, assured at least a little that this Liam guy actually knew me. “The last thing I remember is my sixteenth birthday. My friend Harry was there, and some girls from my school. Gianna’s brother was bringing beer...” I trailed off.

“How about I call Gianna? I’m sure she’d be able to help you. I want you to stay on the couch until she gets here, okay? I don’t think it’s a good thing you can’t remember anything.”

“I’m still friends with Gianna?” I asked breathlessly.

Liam’s brows furrowed again. “Babe, Gianna is your best friend. I’m gonna go call her, okay? Maybe she can call into work for the two of you.”

I could do nothing but nod as Liam stood from the couch and made his way over to the kitchen counter. I could see his phone resting there and a little tiny key rack with two sets of keys in it. Obviously, this Liam guy and I were very close. Close enough, I noticed, for us to live together. Upon my survey of the apartment, I realized there were pictures of us plastered everywhere, as well as a pretty cocoa-skinned girl with wild curls. Her face was familiar to me, albeit a little bit older. So Liam hadn’t been lying. I was really still friends with Gianna.

Harry was nowhere in the pictures.

This was weird to me for two reasons. First of all, Harry loved being in photos. Though we had both been pretty nerdy in high school, he was the life of the party. So I found it hard to believe he would have stayed out of the pictures that were now decorating my living room. The second reason I found it weird was because Harry was my best friend in the entire world.

The circumstances of my friendship with Harry went as follows: we met in kindergarten when a nasty first grader had stolen my lunch in the cafeteria and Harry had stood up to him. The first grader ended up punching him in the nose. I had felt so bad that I had burst into tears and held up the end of my shirt for Harry to use as a tissue to block the blood as we awkwardly stumbled to the nurse’s office. Our mothers had arrived there at the same time, Anne Styles freaking out because her son’s nose was bleeding and my own mother Alejandra freaking out because the bottom of my shirt was bloody.

The next day, I asked my mother to make another sandwich and pack extra oreos. I sat next to Harry at lunch and thanked him for being so nice. And thus, our friendship had begun.

It only grew stronger when I realized that he lived down my street, just a short walk and even shorter bike ride away. There wasn’t a day that went by where I wasn’t begging my parents to ride down to Harry’s house. Their answer was usually different renditions of “if Anne is okay with it, then we are too” and since Anne Styles was an angel on Earth, she was usually okay with it.

“Babe,” I heard Liam say from the kitchen. He seemed to be off the phone, if him holding it in his hand was anything to go by. “Gianna called the both of you out of work and is on her way here.”

“Okay,” I mumbled, “are you gonna be here too?”

A guilty look crossed his face. “I...can be if you need me.”

“What do you do?”

He looked concerned again. As he should be. If he was telling the truth and we had been dating for the past three and a half years, shouldn’t I know what he did for work? “I’m a foster care recruiter.”

My mouth fell open. I was sure I looked like a fish. I was apparently dating someone who was incredibly good-looking, seemed nice, and worked as a foster care recruiter? “That sounds like a pretty important job. You should go.”

“You’re pretty important to me, too,” he argued.

“I’ll be fine. Really. I...remember Gianna and I’ll probably be more comfortable with her around anyway.” He still looked hesitant, so I reached out and grabbed his hand in my own. His fingers dwarfed mine. “Go. I’m fine. Hopefully Gianna can help me sort this out.”

He looked like he wanted to kiss me, but thought better of it. Instead, he pressed a hesitant kiss to my knuckles. “Alright. I’ll be back around six, okay? If you need me at all, call me. I’m serious, babe. My boss will understand.”

“I will.” Releasing his hand, I gave him a wobbly smile. I wondered if he could tell I was about to burst into tears. “I promise.”

Liam seemed as if he’d rather be shot in the foot than leave my side when I was so obviously going through something neither of us knew how to deal with, but he nodded and stood from the couch. He grabbed one set of the keys on the little rack and put his phone in the pocket, grabbing a blazer from a fancy and antique looking coat rack near the front door. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Okay,” I whispered pathetically.

And then the door closed behind him.

I spent the next twenty minutes trying to think about the last thing I remembered. We were having a sixteenth birthday party for me in the basement of my childhood home, and I had invited Gianna and a couple of her friends over. Obviously, Harry was there. We were setting up beer pong because Gianna insisted her brother would get us actual beer to play with. Harry had given me a beautiful mini-model of the house he was working on for his theatre tech class. It was pretty much his dream to become a set designer for theatre and cinema. He had produced a small strawberry cupcake from the fridge we had in the basement, which was my absolute favorite flavor in the world.

What the hell had I wished for when I had blown out the candle? I couldn’t remember.

A knock on the door cleared the fog of my memory, and it was like I couldn’t stand up fast enough. It also felt like my legs were like jelly. By the time I made it to the door, I wouldn’t have been surprised if two minutes had passed even though the walk was only about twenty feet. Yanking it open, I was met with the familiar face of my friend from high school, holding two iced coffees and a little bakery bag. The second she saw me, she smiled.

“Hi, sweetie. You remember me, right? Liam said you were fuzzy on some things.”

I didn’t answer. I just threw myself into her arms.

“Oh thank God,” she cried out, wrapping her arms around me and squeezing me as tightly as she could manage. “I would have burst into tears if you said you didn’t remember me.” We stood there clinging to each other, forgetting that the iced coffee was melting and dripping condensation down my back. “I brought you an orange cranberry scone, your favorite. Hopefully this helps.”

I didn’t remember orange cranberry being my favorite. But this was Gianna, and I trusted her a hell of a lot more than I trusted myself right now.

“What is the last thing you remember?” she asked me when we settled onto my couch, the coffee and scone putting something in my empty stomach and making me feel a little better. “And don’t even worry about Nick being upset. I told him that you were having a family emergency.” I didn’t know exactly who Nick was, but using context clues, I was able to guess he was my boss.

“The last thing I remember is my sixteenth birthday party.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Funny. I would have thought you wouldn’t remember that. We got absolutely plastered.”

I didn’t even remember that. Harry gave me his mini-model house, I blew out the candle on my cupcake, my mother and I got into an argument about something…

“I wished my mom would start treating me like an adult,” I said to myself, the words finally clicking into my head. Harry’s fingers, wrapped around the bottom of the cupcake wrapper, grinning as I closed my eyes and blew out through my mouth. Harry complained because I spit on him, but had gotten his revenge when he smashed the cupcake into my face.

“What?” Gianna asked.

“Nothing. Sorry.” My head was spinning. “What do we do?”

“We’re designers for Nicholas Jennings. We’re currently working on some pieces for his summer showcase.”

“Nicholas Jennings?” I breathed out. Nicholas Jennings had just been starting out his career when I was sixteen, but he had already been predicted to be one of the top designers by the end of the decade. He was known for his avant-garde looks that were still wearable for the workplace. “We work for Nicholas Jennings?”

“Work for him? Sweetie, you’re basically his muse,” Gianna stated excitedly. “His entire winter collection was based on that movie you recommended to him. The Iron Giant?”

Another thing that was familiar. Harry and I would sit on the couch in my basement and watch Iron Giant at least twice a week. He always made fun of me for crying, but I knew it made him tear up too. I could only imagine what Nicholas Jennings had come up with if he were using the film as a concept for an entire clothing collection. However, I doubted Nicholas Jennings had fattened himself up with oversalted and greasy, buttered popcorn when watching the movie like Harry and I had.

“And…” I leaned forward, as if it were a secret, whispering even though it was only the two of us in the apartment. “And I got a boob job?”

“And they look fantastic. I know you’re insecure about the scarring it left, but Liam doesn’t mind and your tits look great.”

My hands went up to cup them again, sure I was still imagining this whole thing. Gianna just laughed.

“Listen, we are going to take today and research what’s going on, yeah? I was reading something about Kleine Levin Syndrome last week, which could be it, but Liam said you weren’t sleepwalking…”

Gianna’s voice trailed off as a lightbulb went off in my head. Research. Research like contacting the only person who could talk me through what the hell was going on at this moment in time. I ignored Gianna’s surprise when I abruptly stood from the couch and walked to the kitchen counter, where my phone was resting. I had an iPhone when I was sixteen, but this was some fancy one that didn’t have a home button. It took me at least six tries to get it open, but when it finally did, I didn’t hesitate to click the phone button.

Gianna stared at me as the other line rang, the little intervals between obnoxious dial tones spent biting my thumb nail.

“Hey, it’s Harry. Sorry I can’t get to the phone, but leave a message and I’ll get back to you later.”

“Harry!” I shouted, surprised that he still had the same phone number and excited that this meant I could talk to one person who knew me better than anyone else. “It’s Daniella. I really need to talk to you, so call me back when you can. I have the same number. Er, if you don’t remember the number, it’s 205-1340.” I awkwardly pressed the end call button and tossed my phone back onto the counter.

“Harry Styles? That’s a name I haven’t heard in a long time.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

Gianna stared at me with sympathetic eyes. “Sweetie, we haven’t talked to Harry since high school.”

I think she was expecting me to gasp or something, but instead I snorted. Yeah, right. Harry and I not talking? There was a higher chance I would spontaneously combust. Maybe we weren’t as close as we used to be when I was sixteen, but even that was highly unlikely. Harry was the one person I told everything to. “Okay,” I said, just to placate her, but I was still chuckling a little bit in disbelief.

She gave me a look. “Okay, but...don’t be surprised if he doesn’t call back, okay?”

“He’ll call,” I promised, more certain about this fact than anything else in my life. The most serious fight Harry and I had ever gotten into was when I had accidentally killed his goldfish. He hadn’t spoken to me for three weeks, and the only reason he finally did was because I went to go apologize and burst into tears. Harry was awful when someone was crying.

“Which reminds me,” Gianna said after several moments, pulling out her phone, “I need to call Nick and say that we’re not going to make it to the party tonight.”

“Party?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah. We were invited to the launch of Christian Siriano’s new collection. But Nick will completely understand if you aren’t feeling well.”

I was invited to a collection launch party? I felt the smile on the face widen. At least in the midst of waking up ten years older, I had a pretty decent life. “We don’t have to cancel. As long as you stick by my side, it should be okay.”

“I don’t want to overwhelm you.”

“I want to go,” I promised. “Maybe it’ll help me remember something.”

Gianna looked uncertain, but also was biting her lip like she was considering my idea. After a few moments of considering me, she groaned. “Fine. But Liam will want to come to make sure that you’re alright. I’ll call Nick and Rachael.”

“Rachael?”

“Your assistant.”

“Right.” I had an assistant. Sixteen-year-old Daniella was snorting at me right now. “I can call Rachael, if you want to call Nick. What time is the party?”

“Not until eight.” She looked at her watch and sighed. “I’ve got to head out. I’m meeting a potential new employee for lunch. You’ll be okay here by yourself, right?” She looked so worried that I sent her a small grin.

“I’m doing better. Seeing a familiar face helped. And I know Harry will call back and he’ll help.”

Her face fell. “Right. Harry will call.” She didn’t sound convinced. “Well, if you’re sure you’ll be okay, then I’m off. Call me if you need anything, okay? Or Liam.”

“I will, Gianna. I promise.” I couldn’t stop myself from reaching forward and giving her a giant hug. I honestly didn’t know what I would have done if she hadn’t been here to calm me down. “Thank you.”

“I’m always here for you, sweetie,” she whispered, squeezing me back before releasing. “I’ll see you tonight. I’ll have my driver pick you up at around seven forty-five so you don’t have to worry about getting an Uber or anything.”

Gianna left, shutting the door behind her quietly. I could do nothing but stand in the middle of my apartment, staring at the home I’d somehow managed to create for myself, despite my not remembering it. I tried searching through the pictures on my wall to see if I had any with my mother and father, but before I could I remembered Gianna’s words about calling Rachael and took my phone out.

She answered on the second ring. “Hello Miss Rodriguez. How can I help you?”

It was then I realized I had absolutely nothing to say to her. “What are you doing tonight?” was the only thing that blurted out of my mouth.

“Um...staying here to work on that collection concept you asked me to?”

“Oh. Why aren’t you going to the party?” I questioned. If Rachael worked there as my assistant, then wouldn’t she have gotten an invite? Why would she willingly choose to stay and work when there was a freaking Christian Siriano launch party?

“I wasn’t invited, Miss Rodriguez.”

“Well that’s stupid,” I claimed. “I am officially inviting you.”

“You’re...you’re inviting me to a launch party?” She sounded confused, like I’d never interacted with her before. Which was insane. Had Gianna been wrong when she said Rachael was my assistant? “You’ve never done that before.”

“Sure I have!” I did not, in fact, know if I ever had. Then, I had the best idea ever. “Oh! Can you do me a huge favor please?”

“Yes ma’am. What do you need?”

“Could you find out where Harry Styles lives?” Surely Harry wouldn’t mind if I dropped by. I was getting a little anxious as the minutes ticked by without a reply, as Harry usually had his phone glued to him. Since we were both apparently twenty-six now, it was entirely possible he was at work, but I would still feel comfortable knowing I could see him in person rather than texting over the phone.

“Of course. I’ll email you his address. Is there anything else you need, Miss Rodriguez?”

“Nope, that’s it, Rachael. Thank you! I’ll see you tonight!”

“Right…see you tonight, Miss Rodriguez.”

When I hung up the phone, I had no clue what to do. Being in a body I didn’t really know, in an apartment I wasn’t familiar with, was terrifying. So I decided to take the time to snoop around my own place, starting in the kitchen. I opened up cupboards and drawers, finding fancy chrome silverware and glass plates that were neatly stacked in the cupboard above my kitchen sink. The entire kitchen was decorated with black paint and dark wood, something I never thought my own kitchen would look like. It was sleek and modern and so far from my colorful blue-cabinet and white tile kitchen at my childhood home that it was almost shocking.

Opening up the fridge, I examined its contents. Inside was nothing but vegetables and almond milk. I was pretty sure I had never once had almond milk and there were purple vegetables in one of the drawers. Did purple vegetables even exist? I closed it, suddenly frightened of what Liam and I seemed to eat on a day-to-day basis. Moving out from my kitchen, I examined the living room with passing interest. The one thing I was really concerned about was my bedroom.

This room was nearly as dark as the kitchen, with canned lights dimmed when I flicked the light switch on. It was attached to a bathroom which had a heavenly looking tub. Deciding to start in the bathroom, I rummaged through some of the drawers, finding an expensive Tom Ford cologne that I assumed belonged to Liam. in my own drawers there was a variety of face creams and serums that I had only ever dreamed about purchasing when I was sixteen.

Before I could examine my bedroom too closely, my phone chirped. I had honestly forgotten I was holding it, so the sound made me jump before I realized it was probably Rachael with Harry’s information. I tried to hurriedly unlock my phone again, still struggling a little with the technology, but managed to get Rachael’s new email opened.

Harry Styles, 515 W 52nd Street. Avalon Clinton apartment complex.

Grinning, I managed to quickly strip my silk sleepwear off and change into the first outfit I found, not bothering to even zip up my boots all the way as I exited my building.

Harry’s apartment complex was an incredible building. My jaw dropped when I saw it, figuring that to live somewhere like this, he must have been doing pretty well at whatever he was doing.

I found the intercom well enough, pressing the button that had H. Styles written on it in cursive script. It crackled to life underneath my touch, and just like drinking a cool sip of water after being dehydrated for thirty days, hearing the deep baritone of Harry’s voice instantly soothed me. “Hello? Who is it?”

“It’s me!” I screamed, nearly sinking in the relief that this was the Harry that I was looking for. “Daniella!”

“Shit, the fucking thing’s broken again. I can’t hear you, but ring twice if you’re from Amazon. I’ve been waiting on that package for days.”

I didn’t know what he had bought on Amazon and it was most likely important, but I didn’t care. I hit the button twice and the door immediately opened up. Once I checked to make sure I was headed towards the right floor, I scurried inside and into the lobby.

There was a front desk, and the concierge smiled at me when I walked in, but I was on a mission. I hastily made my way to the elevators, pressing the fifth floor button and willing the doors to close faster than they were. Sure I resembled a drunk cheetah with the rush in which I was moving, I almost crashed into Harry’s door when the elevator finally stopped and let me off on his floor.

“Harry!” I demanded, pounding on the door in a series of succinct knocks that portrayed my urgency.

The door swung open and I immediately took a step back. There, standing on the other side of the door, was my best friend in the entire world. Long gone were the shoulder-length strands of curly brown hair that I had grown up with, instead cut short. He had some glasses perched on his nose and something that looked like paint on his hand. He was wearing comfortable looking jogger pants and a white shirt, no shoes or socks on his feet.

In my pleasure to see him, it took me a couple of moments to realize that he did not look equally as pleased to see me.

“Daniella,” he said stiffly, opening the door a little wider and leaning on the threshold. “I can honestly say I wasn’t expecting this.”

I launched myself at him.

He let out a “oof” when our bodies collided, but I was holding onto Harry and suddenly everything seemed okay in the world. My arms wrapped around his neck in a vice-like grip, holding him to me like he might disappear if I loosened my hold even a little. He robotically moved his arms around my shoulders to hug me back, but his stiff posture turned soothing when he realized that on top of squeezing him with all my might, I was also sobbing.

I prided myself on not being a weepy person, but this entire morning had warranted a good cry, in my personal opinion.

“C’mon inside,” he said softly, gently prying my hands off him. Once we were both inside his apartment, he shut the door and moved to his kitchen. I wondered if I should follow him. Just when I had mustered up enough nerve to take a step, however, he had returned with a tissue in his fingers. “Want to sit?”

I nodded and let him lead me to the colorful orange couch he had in the middle of his living room. Well...living room was a little bit of an overstatement. He lived in a studio apartment, so everything was an open floor plan, save for the small door I saw that led to a bathroom. His place had much more color than mine did, and I found myself jealous at the styling choices. This place was much more me.

“Feeling better?” Harry asked, sitting on the opposite end of the couch. This in itself was weird, considering sitting on a couch with Harry almost always ended up with us sitting as close as we physically could. This was because we were both blanket-hoggers and being close meant neither one of us was trying to jip the other out of their respective half of the blanket.

“I don’t know what’s going on, H,” I told him, my voice cracking as the emotions of this morning hit me all at once. “I...I think I’ve got amnesia or something. I don’t remember anything past my sixteenth birthday. And then I’ve got Gianna telling me that you and I don’t talk anymore?” I looked over at him and let out a crazed laugh. “How crazy is that?”

“We don’t talk anymore, Daniella,” he replied. “We stopped being friends shortly after your sixteenth birthday.”

Tears gathered in my eyes again. “No, I refuse to believe that. We’re Harry and Daniella. You’re my best friend in the entire world.”

He looked genuinely sorry to be telling me this, but shook his head. “No, Daniella. Not anymore.”

This time, I let the tears fall. My fingers curled in on themselves, balling into fists as I tried to stop myself from biting them or ripping my hair out. We sat in silence for several moments, my heart racing in anxiety because here was Harry, the person I knew most in the world and who knew me in return, and he was saying that we weren’t friends anymore. The bike rides, the late nights watching movies, the careful and soothing hugs he gave me...they were all gone. This Harry didn’t know me, not like I knew him. And who was to say I even knew him anymore?

“Why?” It was the only question I could seem to let escape.

Harry sighed, rubbing his hands over the thighs of his jeans. “I don’t know, Daniella. We just grew apart.”

“People like us don’t just grow apart, H.”

“We did.”

“There’s got to be a reason!” I exclaimed, and I could hear that my breathing was labored. My chest felt like it was constricting, like someone had taken hold of my lungs and was crushing them between their hands.

He sensed the anxious change in my breathing and his eyes widened. “Hey, hey, Daniella. Take deep breaths for me, okay?” His body shifted off the couch and suddenly he was on his knees in front of me, holding my arms in his hands. He was tall enough to nearly be at eye-level with me. “C’mon, Dani. Breathe. Can you tell me five things you see?”

I was sure I looked a mess, with tears streaming down my cheeks and on the verge of a mental breakdown. “What?”

“Tell me five things you see, Dani. Count them for me.”

I still couldn’t breathe properly, so his words sounded muffled like we were underwater. But I managed to get the point of his demand. My eyes shifted from his impossibly green ones to find something to latch onto. “You’ve got yellow and red throw pillows on your bed.”

“Good. Count four more for me.”

It was impossible to ignore the soft cadence of his voice. “You’ve got granite countertops. You’ve got playbills on your bookshelf.” It made me wonder if his dreams of designing sets had really worked out. “You’ve got clay on the counter. And there are sculpting tools next to it.”

“There she is,” he said softly, a hand hesitantly raising to brush my hair back from my face, where it was sticking because of the tears. “Now count five things you can feel.”

“The couch. My nail polish. Your shirt.” I brushed my finger against the shoulder of it. “My hair. The paint on your hands.”

He looked down at them, as if remembering. “I scrubbed, but it wouldn’t come off.”

“Typical,” I choked out, giving him a tight smile. My breathing was beginning to even out and return to normal, but I still felt like someone had placed the weight of the world on my shoulders. “What happened, H? Tell me.” I had to know. I had to know why we suddenly weren’t friends, like we had been for our entire lives.

I heard a sigh escape him, but luckily his fingers didn’t retreat. I think if he pulled away, I might have started up on the attack again. “I don’t know, Daniella. We just grew apart. I guess it was you hanging out with Gianna in high school. You just stopped bothering with me. Or maybe it was the funeral—”

“What funeral?” I interrupted.

“C’mon Dani,” he whispered brokenly, “you know what funeral. Don’t make me say it.”

“I don’t remember anything, Harry. I swear to you. I woke up this morning and my...my boyfriend of three and a half years that I don’t remember at all was trying to get me to calm down because I didn’t know who I was. I look like me and feel like me, but at the same time...I don’t? For Christ’s sake, Harry, I’ve gone and gotten myself a boob job!”

He cleared his throat, his cheeks turning pink. “Obviously I hadn’t noticed, Dani. I’m not looking there.”

“It’s hard to miss them!” I was glad this seemed to get a laugh out of him, but he turned serious once again.

“You really don’t remember anything?”

“Not a thing past the night of my sixteenth birthday. The last thing I remember is you giving me my cupcake and then blowing out the candle and you trying to smash it in my face and then...nothing.”

His thumbs on my shoulders began to rub across the fabric of my jacket. It was cold in his apartment, but it was a comfortable kind of cool. To be honest, I hadn’t felt as comfortable this morning as I was sitting here now, with my best friend looking at me like I was something fragile that was about to shatter. At this moment, I didn’t care if he thought I was weak. If it meant that he would explain what the hell was going on and tell me that we could be friends again, I would cry a thousand more tears.

“Dani,” he whispered in a tiny voice, “I’m so sorry.”

“What funeral?” I asked again.

He flinched, like he was avoiding the question. Then, his arms moved to caress my face, anticipating my reaction to his next words. He cradled my cheeks like I was going to fall apart. “Your dad’s.”

I couldn’t speak. I just stared at him, processing his words. That couldn’t be right. I had just spoken to my father less than twelve hours ago, when he had helped me set up a board game table in our basement as asked if we had a couple minutes for a quick round of Operation. My father was always a sore winner. He had purposely jostled the table so I would hit the metal and lose my turn.

“No, you’re lying,” I mumbled, but I knew deep down that Harry would never lie to me. He was honest to a fault.

“You...you weren’t at the funeral. You and he were in an argument of some kind and you didn’t show up.”

I shook my head, his hands moving with me as he cupped my cheeks. He anticipated the tears, catching them with his thumb the second they started to fall. “No, H,” I groaned out, the feeling of panic twelve times worse with the new news. “No, no, no.” I was a blubbering mess. He didn’t move from his spot, slotted between my thighs and holding my face tightly in his hands. “No, there’s got to be some mistake. I would have gone. I would have.”

“Maybe you did,” he said in a soothing voice, brushing my tears away. “I left pretty early. Maybe you just showed up late.” But we both knew his words were empty. He didn’t truly mean them. “Let’s get you a glass of water, yeah?”

“No!” I clutched onto his fingers, gripping them tight enough to leave bruises. He didn’t pull away or wince in pain.

“Alright,” he said soothingly, “I won’t go anywhere.”

He allowed me to sit on his couch, crying my eyes out until there were no more tears that could possibly come. Last night, I went to bed with everyone I ever loved in the world content and safe. Now, I had lost my friendship with Harry, I didn’t remember this insanely nice boyfriend I apparently had, and my father was dead. I hadn’t gone to his funeral because of some stupid argument. What argument could have been enough to keep me from attending his funeral?

“What have I done to ruin everything?” I questioned in a teary voice, shaking my head at myself. What the fuck had I done in my life to deserve this? There had to be a reason.

“Don’t think like that, Dani. It wasn’t your fault.”

But obviously it was. Obviously there was something I had done to piss off the universe so much that they took the most important people away from my life. I stood up quickly, suddenly feeling like Harry’s apartment was suffocating me. He let me go without question, but his eyes were trained on me like he was afraid I was going to have another panic attack. “I have to go,” I stuttered out, my body moving towards the door before the sentence fully left my mouth.

“I think you should stay here until you feel better,” Harry said, kind enough to worry about me even though apparently we weren’t friends anymore.

“I’m sorry for showing up unexpectedly.” They were the only sentiments I managed to get out before I was out of his apartment, rushing towards the elevator. I didn’t know why I was running away from Harry. All I knew was that it was imperative that I get out of his apartment and away from the life I’d apparently fucked up.

The elevator doors were closing when I heard him call my name.

I let the tears fall once again.

Since I was a little girl, I had dreamed of getting invited to a party as fancy as a Christian Siriano launch party. Now, here I was, waiting for Gianna to pick me up for said party, and I felt like shit.

I had reluctantly gotten ready for the party, pulling out a fancy dress and one of my many pairs of heels that I already wanted to rip off my feet. I was already missing the Vans my mother had gotten me for my birthday that I had been wearing when whatever this weird dream had happened to me. Due to my low mood, I hadn’t felt like doing much to my hair, so it was just up in a high ponytail that would have to do. This weird twenty-six-year-old skin of mine didn’t need foundation, but I made sure to coat my eyelashes in waterproof mascara in case I started sobbing again, which I had in spurts since leaving Harry’s apartment.

My father was dead. The only reason I was even going to this stupid party and not on the soonest train ride back to my mother was because maybe something at this party would shake my memory loose and I would remember something. In reality, I wanted to curl up in a corner and cry some more. Still, when Gianna’s limo pulled up in front of my building, I plastered a smile on my face and opened the door with mock enthusiasm.

“You look amazing, sweetie!” Gianna said excitedly when I opened the door. She was wearing a bright yellow dress that set off the dark color of her skin perfectly, along with gold accessories. “Love that color on you!”

The first dress I had picked was a bright fire-engine red high-necked dress with tulle puffed sleeves. The shoes were a satin material in the same color as the dress. If I had been in a better headspace, I would have screamed because the label on the dress said Versace, but right now it didn’t matter who the hell had made the dress. I plastered on a smile. “Thanks. You look fantastic.”

“Get your ass in the car! Nick is so happy you decided to come tonight. Christian is looking forward to it, too!” She slid over in the seat as I situated myself inside the car. The second the door shut behind me, her driver was taking off to the destination of the launch party. “Liam is coming tonight, too. He texted me and said he wanted to surprise you, but I figured that with everything going on, a surprise is the last thing you needed.”

This was smart of her. If Liam showed up and started being as incredibly kind and sweet as he had been this morning, I might have thrown up. Did he know about my father? Had I talked to him about the mysterious argument that had estranged us? I felt the tears welling in my eyes again at the thought of it, so I choked them back and tried to focus on Gianna, who was talking a mile a minute about who would be at the launch.

“Rachael is coming too. She said that you invited her this morning,” Gianna said, looking at me to confirm. When I nodded, I was surprised to see a frown grace her features. “Sweetie, that’s fine and all, I’ve got no problem with Rachael. But she hasn’t exactly been to one of these before. And she’s a bit meek. They might eat her alive.”

I frowned. “Rachael is nice. I wanted to invite her.” I had no clue if Rachael was actually nice, but I knew she shouldn’t be excluded from the party even if she was meek and hadn’t been to one before. “Besides, she did a big favor for me this morning. She found Harry’s address.”

Gianna’s eyes widened. “No shit. Did you go and see him?”

“Yeah. You were right. We aren’t friends anymore.” The words hurt even saying them out loud. “When he answered the door and saw me...he looked annoyed, like I was something from his past he couldn’t shake off.” I guess that’s what I was, now. And even though he had been so sweet, trying to comfort me and holding me tightly, it didn’t change the fact that he hadn’t wanted to see me when I knocked at his door.

“Oh, sweetie. Things will work out, I’m sure of it.”

I wondered if Gianna calling me “sweetie” was a normal thing. I hated it.

We pulled up to the party, smiling fakely at photographers that were loitering outside as we walked into the building, clearing the security easily. The inside was decorated in bright avant garde styles, bleeding color into every corner of the venue. It was a beautiful setup that I would have been dying to explore if I hadn’t been so muddled emotionally. I was so wrapped up in the decorating that I jumped when arms wrapped around my waist from behind, pulling me close to a hard body.

“I’m glad you’re feeling better, babe,” I heard Liam say in my ear. “You look absolutely beautiful.” I turned in his arms, immediately throwing them around his neck. I didn’t know anything about this man, but he had offered me kindness and hadn’t given up on me this morning, despite how hard I knew it must have been. He looked extremely pleased at my reception towards him, pressing a delicate kiss on the top of my head. “You need a drink?”

“Sure.”

As soon as he had appeared, he was gone, Gianna headed over to the bar with him. And then I was alone, standing in the middle of the launch party twiddling my thumbs and feeling like I belonged anywhere but there at that moment. I saw someone moving towards me, a timid looking blonde with giant glasses taking up half her face. Still, she looked wonderful in her pale blue dress.

“Hi, Miss Rodriguez. Thanks for inviting me,” she said softly when she made her way over towards me. Ah, so this was Rachael. She looked every bit as nice as her voice sounded, and I sent her a genuine smile.

“It’s nothing at all, Rachael. You look great.”

Her eyes lit up, and I wondered how terrible I had to usually be to have her look so terrified of me. “Oh, thank you Miss Rodriguez!”

“You can call me Daniella, Rachael. We’re co-workers, aren’t we?”

“Oh.” She looked surprised. “You told me to never call you Daniella.”

As if my night couldn’t get any worse. “Right. I wasn’t feeling myself that day. I apologize. Feel free to call me Daniella.” Suddenly uncomfortable with the revered way she was looking at me, like I was some kind of fashion god giving her access into the world I lived in, I gestured towards the bar. “Want a drink?”

“Sure!” she said quickly, smiling brightly. “Mind if I go with you? I don’t really know anyone here.”

Me neither, I wanted to say, but refrained. “Of course. C’mon.” Following in the direction Liam and Gianna had disappeared to, we made it to the bar with ease. “What do you want?”

“I’ll take a strawberry martini.”

I had no idea what cocktail I wanted. My alcohol experience consisted of sneaking shitty beer into my basement and champagne at my cousin’s wedding. “Make that two,” I told the bartender, smiling softly as he got to work. “Hey, Rachael, can I ask you something?”

“Of course, Miss Ro—Daniella,” she corrected herself. The bartender handed our drinks over and she immediately took a sip. I didn’t bother with mine yet, on a mission.

“Do you know why I wasn’t talking to my father when he died?”

She flinched. “Ah...no. I just remember reminding you about the funeral and...um...you weren’t too happy.”

How selfish was I in this new life that the idea of my father’s funeral made me angry? “Right. If you’ll excuse me, I’m just...going to go powder my nose.”

I left Rachael nodding after me as I walked through the venue. I saw my boss (I still couldn’t believe I worked for Nicholas Jennings) and tried my best to stay out of his sight, lest he greet me and ask me questions I didn’t know the answer to. Walking into different hallways and still not able to find the bathroom, I decided to just lean up against a pillar on the second floor of the building, looking down at the launch with a sense of bittersweetness.

I had seemingly gotten everything I wanted. At what cost?

The second I heard whispers, I ducked behind the pillar, not willing to join in conversation with people. However, I recognized the voices almost immediately as Liam and Gianna.

“I still don’t know what happened to her, Gianna. It worries me.”

“I know. It worries me too. But...we’re still going to tell her, right?”

I peeked out from the pillar and saw them standing at the entrance of the hallway, Liam’s hands wrapped around Gianna’s wrists. The lights were reflecting brilliantly off her dress.

“You want to tell her that we’ve been having an affair for eleven months when just this morning she didn’t recognize either of us?” Liam asked incredulously.

“I know the timing is shit. I know it, Liam. But I can’t hold my feelings in any longer. Besides, you know she was seeing Rachael’s boyfriend for that little three-month period a couple years back.”

“And we discussed that. I forgave her. Sleeping with your assistant’s boyfriend twice isn’t really the same as sleeping with your best friend’s boyfriend of almost four years.”

I couldn’t take it anymore. I pushed off the pillar, walking in the opposite direction on my tiptoes so I didn’t draw attention to myself. The hallway swung back around in a circle to the staircase, so I quickly rushed down them when I was in the clear and made my way out of the building, letting the New York air cool my skin.

I hadn’t thought going to this party would make me feel worse, but I had been proven wrong.

Without thinking, I pulled out my phone and called Harry.

He picked up on the second ring. “Dani? Thank god. I was worried when you left earlier. That wasn’t exactly the best news to hear.”

“Do you want to get dinner with me?” I asked bluntly, ignoring his concerns. “I just...I need to get away from reality for a while.”

The other line was silent, and I was terrified he was going to reject me. He would remind me that we weren’t friends, that he hated me and thought I was selfish, and then tell me that he never wanted to see me again. The longer I heard nothing but his breathing, the more certain I was that these events were about to unfold. So I was surprised when I heard him say, “Sure. Meet me at Blue Elephant. It’s the Thai place a couple of blocks down from my apartment.”

For the first time that night, I felt a genuine smile spread across my features.

I tried not to laugh when the noodle from Harry’s pad thai dangled from his mouth, but the snort escaped me before I could stop it.

He had gotten to the restaurant much quicker than I had. He wasn’t lying when he had told me it was just down a couple blocks. He had raised a brow at my fancy attire, since he was just in jeans and a black shirt splattered with tiny little paint flecks. His fingernails had clay under them, which would have been gross if I hadn’t known it was because Harry spent nearly all his free time sculpting. The comfort of this sight nearly had me in tears again, but I shrugged it off in favor of ordering what Harry suggested from the menu. I had ended up with what the restaurant called “glass noodles,” which was their low-carb options that had lots of vegetables mixed in. Harry had gone for the classic pad thai, which if the way he was slurping was any indication, he enjoyed.

“How are you doing?” Harry asked hesitantly, like he was unsure how to ask the question.

I shrugged. “I woke up this morning not knowing anything about my life, not being friends with you, finding out my father is dead, and seeing Liam and Gianna discuss how they were going to tell me that they’re having an affair.”

“Shit. That’s terrible, Dani.”

The wry laugh left my lips before I could stop it. “The thing that kills me is that I deserve it. I let a stupid, petty argument that I can’t even remember keep me from the funeral. Apparently I slept with someone in a relationship. It was my assistant’s boyfriend, by the way. And I don’t know what I did to ruin our friendship, but obviously it was my fault.” I twirled some of my pasta around my fork. “I work for Nicholas Jennings as a designer. I just came from a Christian Siriano launch party. I managed to get everything I’ve ever wanted, but it feels terrible.”

“You didn’t ruin our friendship single handedly,” Harry assured. “It was the both of us.”

“I can’t even argue with you, because I don’t remember.”

He sighed, pushing his plate away from him. “It was your party. Everyone had left to go get beer with Gianna’s brother.” I sat up eagerly in my chair, ready to hear his version of events so I could decipher when it all went wrong. “I had just given you the mini-model for my theatre class and then I let you blow out the cupcake and smashed it in your face.”

“And?” I asked impatiently. “And then what? That’s the last thing I remember.”

His hand reached up to rub the back of his neck. “And then I kissed you.”

My mouth had been open, ready to comment on whatever he had said, but no sound came out. I stared at my best friend, who suddenly looked so embarrassed and small, and my heart ached in my chest. “You kissed me?” I whispered, food completely forgotten in front of me.

“I kissed you,” he repeated. “You had strawberry frosting on your face and you just...looked so beautiful. I’ve always thought you were. And there was a moment when you were trying to wipe it off that I thought I might have seen something in your eyes...but I was wrong. I kissed you and you pulled away. You looked so regretful, like you were running through a thousand ways to let me down easy in your head because you were always too kind to me. I tried to tell you to forget it, that it didn’t mean anything, but you were determined to talk about it.”

“Did we?” I asked.

“I wouldn’t let you. I knew the second I pulled away I had made a mistake. But you kept...pushing. And I got angry, said some things I didn’t mean. You got angry back, and said some other things. Then you shoved the mini-model in my hands and told me to leave. The glue was shit, so it crumbled a little. I’m sure it was an accident, but...after the rejection, it felt like it was on purpose.”

“Harry, I would have never—”

“I know,” he interrupted, giving me a hesitant smile. “I know, Dani. It was just me being pathetically in love with you.”

The words made me wish the ground would swallow me whole. “In love with me?” My voice was so quiet, I was surprised he heard it.

“Yeah, Dani. In love with you.”

The Harry from my memories suddenly shifted, as if with his confession I was seeing him in a new life. My quinceañera, when I had asked him to be my escort and he had to help me zip the back of my dress up. The first day of high school, when he had ridden his bike to my house and looked at me like he was seeing someone new. That moment he had just told me about, looking at him with strawberry frosting on his chin because I had managed to swipe some there.

Was there some other emotion hiding in those eyes every time he looked at me?

“I’m sorry,” I said, unable to say anything else.

“You don’t have to be sorry for not loving me, Dani. It wasn’t your responsibility.”

“But I should have fought harder for your forgiveness.” The tears did come then. I felt like that was all I had done today, just sob and sob. “I should have fought for us. I don’t want to be the person that doesn’t fight.”

I stood from my chair, slapping down a twenty dollar bill to cover the price of my meal. He watched me with clouded eyes, part-betrayed that I was leaving him once again and part-understanding that being in that restaurant was going to suffocate me with the weight of what had happened today. As I made my way towards the exit, he let me go.

I wondered if he would have before the night of my sixteenth birthday.

My lip wobbled as I hailed a cab, pulling out my phone to see all of the missed text messages from both Gianna and Liam. There was even one from Rachael, who had seen me leave in a hurry and asked if I was alright. My heart clenched in my chest when I saw her name across the screen. I wondered if she had any clue that I had apparently slept with her boyfriend. Assuming that she would have quit if she had known, I was going to guess she didn’t know. The texts from Liam were all variations of him asking me where I was.

I couldn’t even be angry with him for cheating on me with Gianna. Who knew what kind of person I was now? What if I had pushed him away, like I had with Harry, like I had with my father? If he found comfort and love in Gianna, who was I to tell him he was wrong?

My feet were carrying me somewhere I didn’t know, walking in the direction of my apartment that wasn’t home. When the first drop of rain splattered on my nose, I didn’t even feel it.

I just felt numb.

The house before me was very non-threatening. It was a small thing, brick on the outside and a bright red door. When I was younger, the kids at school used to tease me and call it the “Three Little Pig” house, the one left standing at the end of the story that the wolf couldn’t blow down. I hated it when I was little, but I found it comforting now. Even with all that had changed in my life, this seemed to still be the same.

Knocking on the door shouldn’t have been terrifying, but it was suddenly the most scary thing I’d ever done. Before my fist could meet it for a third time, the red door swung open to reveal my mother, looking at me with a softness in her eyes that I was sure I didn’t deserve.

“Harry called me earlier. Said you might be coming here.” Her words were matter-of-fact, like there was no arguing. And there wasn’t. I wasn’t entirely sure how Harry had guessed that I was going to visit my mother, but I supposed he still knew me like the back of my hand. “Said you’ve got amnesia?”

I couldn’t stop the laugh that came from my throat. Amnesia was a weird way of putting it, but it was the only explanation I could give. I was sure “I’m really sixteen and just woke up in twenty-six-year-old Dani’s body” wouldn’t work with my mother. And then I was flinging myself into her arms and sobbing, like I constantly did now. “He said I didn’t come to Dad’s funeral,” I cried out.

“You didn’t,” she replied simply, but she held me in her arms and squeezed my shoulders like she had when I was younger. I hadn’t felt more like myself than in that moment, except maybe talking with Harry.

“But why? That doesn’t make sense.” I clutched her to me, wanting nothing more than to melt into her skin and disappear forever.

She sighed, rubbing my shoulders. “Come inside. We’ll talk.”

Minutes later I was sitting at the familiar circular dark wooden table from my childhood. My mother had poured us iced tea, a drink I had forgotten I loved until I took a cautious sip of it. We sat in silence for a few moments, just drinking as she stared at the wall across from me. Just as I was about to open my mouth and ask again what had happened, she began to speak.

“You really don’t remember anything?”

“No,” I promised. “The last thing I remember is Harry shoving a cupcake into my face at my sixteenth birthday party after I made a wish.”

She nodded thoughtfully. “What’d you wish for?”

I smiled grimly. “For you to treat me like an adult.” Awkwardly picking at a loose thread on my sweater, I looked away from my mother. I didn’t want to see the disappointment or hurt on her face when my words registered. “I...I didn’t mean it.”

“Yeah, you did. And you were right. Maybe if I had treated you like an adult, you would have...you would have come to the funeral.” She took a long sip of the tea, steadying herself. “You’ve got to know that we always planned on telling you. But we just never did. And that was on us. And you’d always struggled so much with your identity. Remember when you used to come home from school and cry just because you felt like you didn’t know yourself?”

I remembered those days well. The last one I could remember had been two days before my birthday. Harry seemed to fit in so well with everyone he met, and I just didn’t have that skill. I had come home crying to my mom, asking why Harry could manage to fit in everywhere but I couldn’t.

“Two Christmases ago you were looking in the attic to help find some tree topper I had bought. You came down from the attic with that piece of paper in your hand and my heart stopped. I knew right then and there that you’d never forgive us.”

“Mom, it can’t be that bad.”

“Believe me, it is.” There were tears in her eyes now as she set her glass down. Her hands shook. “You...found adoption papers and letters from your birth mother. She had written to you every year on your birthday. Your father and I never showed them to you. And obviously...we never told you about the adoption.”

If there was one thing I did not expect for my mother to say, it was that.

“What?” I managed to stutter out, blinking at her in disbelief.

Her tears fell now, streaking the mascara on her bottom lashes and leaving horrible black lines down her face. “We always meant to tell you, you...you have to believe that. And you got so, so angry with us. You said you never wanted to talk to us again. You marched out and went back to New York to stay with Liam. And then your father got sick and I...I just thought we would have so much more time to make things right with you before he died. I called you to tell you about the funeral and you just didn’t care. And the shitty part was that I couldn’t blame you.”

My tears had stopped, simply because I was trying hard to process what she had just told me. My mother, the one who braided my hair when I was younger and kissed my knee when I skinned it, wasn’t my actual mother. And my father, who read me bedtime stories with funny voices and made me pancakes when I was feeling sad, he wasn’t my actual father. I had never felt less like I knew myself.

I laughed.

It was a short, stark sound in the silence between us. My mother had been staring at the ground and she looked up at me in surprise when she heard it. I couldn’t help it. I laughed again. I laughed until there were angry and frustrated tears falling out of my eyes.

“Do you know what kind of person I am?” I didn’t give her the chance to answer before I started speaking again. “I’ve spoken more to Harry in the past two days than I have in the last ten years. I let him feel like I hated him. I slept with my assistant’s boyfriend and apparently haven’t told her about it. But I did tell my boyfriend, who is currently having sex with my best friend because of something I did, I guess. And now I find out I didn’t go to my father’s funeral because I was being an absolute bitch?”

“You had every right to be upset—”

“No! I didn’t have the right to not go to the funeral!” My lower lip quivered. The reality of the words set in with me then. I had missed my father’s funeral because of something as stupid as me being adopted. That didn’t change the fact that he had gone to all the little father-daughter dances my school held when I was young. That he had taught me how to swim and clapped when I could jump into the pool with no problems. That he had held me when the boy I liked called me ugly. “I didn’t go to the funeral,” I whispered brokenly.

My mother’s arms were around me before I had time to blink. She flung herself across the table and wrapped me in her embrace. I felt her tears on my shoulder, the tears the both of us had apparently needed to cry since two Christmases ago. When the pain got too uncomfortable, I moved out of my chair so I could be closer to her, on my knees on the kitchen floor. She slid out of her own seat, grabbing onto my shoulders and kissing my head.

“I’m sorry,” she kept saying, over and over again. “I’m so sorry.”

“I missed the funeral,” I repeated, my fingers digging painfully into her shoulder blades. If she was in pain, she didn’t show it. She just held me harder as we both kneeled on the kitchen floor.

New York was having a good weather day.

I was sitting outside a little cafe, munching on an ice cream cone. It had been only hours since I’d left my mother’s house. We had talked, cried, drank wine that she had stashed in a cupboard, and cried some more. Even before the freak accident in which I had aged ten years overnight, it was the most I’d really talked to her in a long while. There was a dull ache in my heart because I wanted my father to be there, but my mother had kissed my forehead in the way he used to when I was headed out the door.

“I love you, Dani,” she had said, with so much conviction that it had nearly brought me to my knees.

“I love you too, Mom,” I had replied. She smiled that big grin of hers, the one I used to tell her could light up the world.

Now I was waiting for Liam and Gianna to arrive. I had called them both the second I got into a taxi from my mom’s house and was waiting to meet them. The cafe was the first one I had found (though it wasn’t as if they were lacking in New York), so I didn’t know if it was any good or not. If the ice cream was any indicator, it was fantastic.

“Thank god you’re okay,” Liam said from somewhere behind me, and then I was forced out of my sesat and engulfed in a huge bear hug. Liam’s hugs were nice, I decided. Maybe if I had met him when this weird thing hadn’t happened, I would have loved him. “Why didn’t you return any of my calls?”

“I was visiting my mom. Sorry,” I mumbled into his shoulder.

He pulled away immediately. “Your mom? Is everything okay? You haven’t spoken in—”

“Two years,” I interrupted, nodding my head. “Everything’s fine, just needed to talk some stuff out with her.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re okay.” He pulled me back into another hug, rubbing his hand on my back. “Do you want to sit? Have you ordered anything?”

“Not yet. I was waiting for you and Gianna to get here.”

“You don’t have to wait much longer.” Gianna appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, and gave me a small hug. “I’m glad you’re feeling better, sweetie. Did you ever figure out what the hell was going on yesterday? Memory all back?”

“Not at all.” And that was still the frustrating part. I gestured to the little bistro table and watched the two of them as they moved towards their seats. I had never really had to examine how two people moved together before, but they moved like they were magnets. Liam hesitantly reached out his hand for me to hold and I saw the quick glimpse of something akin to heartbreak on Gianna’s face.

At least I knew the two really loved each other.

“So, what did you and your mom talk about?” Liam asked, his thumb making circles on the back of my hand.

“Life. How things didn’t really work out the way I wanted them to.”

Gianna’s brow raised. “What do you mean, sweetie? You work for Nicholas Jennings. That’s like your dream job.”

“Yeah.” And look where that dream had gotten me. “But I mean in my personal life, not really my professional life.”

It was quiet for a few seconds. Liam awkwardly smiled. “We don’t really know what you mean, babe.”

“I know.” I composed my thoughts for a moment before hesitantly reaching out my other hand to stretch it across the table. Gianna was quick to grab it, but I could tell she still looked a little confused. “I’m not a good person. I see that. I don’t know how you two put up with me. But I like to think I deserve better than my boyfriend and best friend lying to me.” The color drained out of Liam’s face and Gianna was gaping like a fish, opening and closing her mouth as if she’d find something to say. “And you deserve better than the way I’ve obviously treated you.”

“Dani,” Liam said brokenly, but I shook my head.

“It’s okay. We’ve all got things we need to work on, I guess.”

And that was the truth. If there was anything I’d learned from the last two days, it was that I had to work to not be the bitch I had so obviously become in the ten years I’d missed. I pat Liam’s hand comfortingly before standing from the little table, allowing Gianna and Liam to digest what I’d just sprung on them as I walked away.

I was in a city I genuinely loved. The sky was pretty and blue and I felt a little bit of the ice cream cone in my hand dripping on my fingers. Things were okay with my mom and I. I would never get back the memories I’d lost with my father, but I’d use him as an example on how to be better. I wished for nothing more than to go back in time to my sixteen year-old self to tell her what she was missing when she wished on that stupid candle.

But maybe it wasn’t all bad, I decided, when I stopped at a hot dog stand to ask for some napkins and saw Harry ordering on the other side.

“Dani,” he said, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise. “Hey. What are you doing?”

“Walking,” I replied, gesturing to his hot dog. “Looks good.”

“I’d ask you if you wanted a bite, but I know you don’t like mustard.”

The fact that he’d remembered something so insignificant made me smile. “Right.”

He finished up his hot dog and took one of the napkins I offered. “What’re you doing today?”

“Nothing much. Why?”

“Mind if I join you on your walk?”

I pretended to think about it for a moment, but it truly was just pretending. My mind was made up the second the question had left his mouth. “Only if you tell me what you’re doing for work. Don’t think I missed all the clay and stuff in your apartment.”

He flushed, the apples of his cheeks turning a cute pink color. I wanted to poke them, like I used to when we were kids, but didn’t know if it would be welcome or not. “You don’t want to hear about my job,” he said, like he had already decided it was going to be a boring topic.

“Harry, I always want to hear about what you’re doing.”

It was a statement he must not have heard from me in ten years, because he gave me a soft and hesitant smile, the kind of smile I imagined he had given me as kids through the lens of someone in love with me. It made my stomach warm to see it.

“Really?” At my enthusiastic nod, his smile widened a little bit and he rubbed the back of his neck. “Okay. Well, shortly after high school I was just working for the theater department at the community college. It didn’t pay much, but it was a good experience for the resume. I worked there for about three years and then got into sculpting.”

“Which explains the clay,” I joked, reaching for his hand. I lifted it between us and gestured to the clay caked underneath his nails. He laughed, nodding his head at my observation.

His laughter came up short when he realized that we were skin-to-skin, my fingers dancing across his knuckles to get a view of the clay. It turned his skin a light gray color, somewhat matching the color of the shirt he wore. “Yeah,” he said, and his voice sounded a little breathless. “Yeah, that explains the clay.”

I was hesitant to release his fingers, but I did. He didn’t move his hand away, however, just stared at me with those impossibly green eyes of his. I had always been jealous of them when we were younger. “Harry?”

“Yes?”

“If I were to hold your hand, would you hate me?”

His smile was quick and soft, and I realized there was a tiny little speck of mustard on his top lip. “If you had asked me at sixteen, I would have jumped at the opportunity. And maybe faint.”

I laughed. “I’m not asking sixteen year-old Harry, though. I’m asking twenty-six year-old Harry.”

“Right. Semantics. I suppose he’s fine with it too, if it means you’ll go out to dinner with him.”

Our fingers threaded together, still awkwardly hanging in front of us. His hand was warm and callused, and I could feel the texture of the clay. “I would love to go to dinner tonight. You can regale me with stories about how you fell in love with me when we were kids.”

He laughed, and our hands dropped to fit more comfortably between us. “It’s not very hard to fall in love with you, Dani.”

I was used to getting ready for a friend hang-out with Harry. For those, I knew what I would wear. It would be some variation of comfy jeans or leggings, a graphic tee of one of my favorite bands, and some Vans. I was familiar with that ensemble.

It was a little different getting ready for a date with Harry.

He had followed me back to my apartment, where I saw some of Liam’s stuff was already gone. It seems he wasted no time in seeking shelter with Gianna. I was honestly happy for him, if he was happier with Gianna. Harry sat on my couch and laughed while I tried on different outfits, seeing which one would fit his surprise restaurant better since he wouldn’t tell me where we were going. In each dress, he twirled his finger to signal he wanted me to turn in the dress before he disagreed and sent me back.

“Could you at least give me a hint on what to wear?”

“Do you have jeans at all?”

I poked my head out of the door to my bedroom, giving him a look. “I would never wear jeans on a date.”

“It’s a date with me. You know I don’t care what you look like.”

That made the butterflies in my stomach set off. Apparently, however, twenty-six year-old Daniella didn’t own a pair of jeans, so I settled on a casual sundress and slipped it on. It was a pretty orange color that looked good with my skin, and had little yellow flowers printed at the bottom. When I walked out into the living room, Harry grinned.

“Perfect,” he said, standing from my couch. “You look beautiful.”

If I were still sixteen and Harry was just a friend, the words wouldn’t have such an effect on me. But the truth of the matter was, my skin was warming, butterflies were flying, and my eyes were looking at Harry in a new light. “Thank you.”

“I have always wanted to say that to you and not have you punch me in the shoulder.”

“I wouldn’t have punched you in the shoulder!”

“Yeah...but you wouldn’t have looked at me like that, either.”

I wondered what expression was on my face to make his eyes go slightly dark and hazy. Letting out a short, breathless laugh, I grabbed his hand and led him out of my apartment. “Lead the way, since I have no idea where we’re going.”

The walk to the restaurant was spent talking about old memories from the past, Harry’s fingers intertwined with mine. There were several points where we had to stop walking so the two of us could laugh, bending over at the waist as we remembered when Gemma had put makeup on Harry or I had fallen into a puddle of mud at one of our family get-togethers. When we got to our destination, I stared at the theatre in front of us with a look of awe on my face.

“C’mon, I told the guys that I needed this place to myself tonight. I’ll give you a grand tour.”

He took the keys out of his pocket and opened the door. The lights were automatic, turning on when they sensed movement. We were in the lobby of the theatre, with programs from all the productions hung on every inch of the walls. Harry laughed when I took in the colors of all of them as he opened the door to the main stage.

“You’re a giant softie,” I breathed out when I saw that there was a picnic set up on the stage. “I’m telling Gemma.”

“She’ll never let me live it down.”

“That’s the point, Harry.” But I squeezed his fingers even tighter in mine. “It’s perfect.”

The theatre itself was beautiful. Unlike the harsh white lights of the lobby, the stage was lit with warm stage lighting that gave the place a pretty yellow glow. I took the stairs up to the main stage and sat down on a pillow Harry had placed there beforehand, unwilling to let our grip break when he moved to sit down on his own pillow. It was only when he started moving towards the picnic basket that I relinquished my hold on his hand.

“Okay, I’ve got some pasta, a little cucumber salad, and wine. Because we all need wine.” He made a plate for me and then himself before reaching back into the picnic basket. “And for dessert…”

I wanted to laugh at the little cupcake, nearly identical to the one he had given me on my sixteenth birthday. I could tell it was what he was expecting. But I just stared at it, my throat going dry. Eventually, the smile slipped off his face and he set the cupcake on the stage. “I didn’t mean to make you sad.”

“I know you didn’t,” I whispered, shaking my head. “I just...you deserve so much better, Harry.”

“Maybe. But who are we to decide that?”

“You deserve someone who hasn’t treated you like shit. Which is what I treated you like. I shouldn’t have let our friendship go just because I was scared that loving you would ruin things for us.”

“Dani,” he said softly, reaching out to take my hand in his. “It’s all in the past.”

“But it’s not. Not for me. For me, it was two days ago. And I know that it sounds crazy and you don’t believe me, but I...I’ve obviously made some choices that have hurt a lot of people and I don’t remember making any of them. I hurt you.”

“Yeah, you did. Look at where we are now, though. Look at where you are.”

“I just don’t want you to wake up and regret this tomorrow because you’re holding onto a sixteen year-old version of me.”

And that was the point of all of this. I couldn’t just forget that this weird time blip had happened, and I couldn’t forget that apparently I had made shitty choices for the past ten years of my life. I wished more than anything that I could go back to the night of my sixteenth birthday and just tell Harry that while I didn’t love him at that exact moment, I would be willing to give us a shot because really, it was Harry. I knew that I could fall in love with him if I just had the time. Maybe I already had been, secretly, and was just scared.

“We’re just...we’re not sixteen anymore, Harry.”

He nodded, his mouth tight-lipped and his eyes sad. I think it was because he knew what I was saying was true. We couldn’t change the past. “I know,” he whispered. “I just...having you back in my life was like this out of reach dream.”

“I don’t want to go the next ten years not talking to you, Harry. But I think you’ll be so much happier with someone else. Someone who doesn’t run away when you tell them you love them.”

The wry smile on his face made my heart break. He gently slid towards the end of the stage and jumped off, his feet hitting the ground with a thudding sound that echoed in my ears. He made it to the back of the theatre before he turned around, tears in his eyes and a small smile on his face. “Maybe in a parallel universe, then. I’ll see you around, Dani.”

The tears were already on my cheeks when the door shut behind him.

I didn’t feel like eating anything after Harry’s departure, but I picked up the cupcake gently, willing it to bring me back to the night of my sixteenth birthday, before I had royally screwed myself over. Setting it down with a sigh, I started to pick up the food items so Harry wouldn’t get in trouble for leaving food on the stage. It was only then that I saw the candle and lighter in the basket.

I cried as I stuck the candle into the cupcake and lit it with the lighter.

“I wish I could go back and do this all over,” I mumbled to myself. Shutting my eyes, I softly blew out the flame of the candle.

I kept them shut as I leaned back and lay on the stage, letting myself fall asleep.

“Dani?” I heard, and I opened my eyes slowly. The theatre was gone, the soft yellow light something harsh and white again. I took in my surroundings, noting the Jonas Brothers poster on the wall and the ugly pink color of them. I sat up quickly, looking around the room before I gasped and looked down at my chest.

No boobs.

“Dani, you awake?” I heard someone say from the other side of the door. Immediately I was up, shooting like a bottle rocket as I flung my door open. Harry stood there, sixteen year-old Harry with his head of floppy curls and the spot of acne on his chin. He was holding something wrapped in a pretty pink box.

“Harry?”

His eyebrows furrowed as he stepped into my room, setting the pink box on my bed as I shut the door behind him. “You okay?” he asked. “You seem off.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” I said, still looking around my room to reassure myself that I was actually here. “I...I think I had a really weird dream.”

“What was it about?”

“It was terrible, H. We weren’t friends anymore.” He sat on my bed and I moved to sit next to him, careful of the pink box that I somehow knew contained a little theatre set he had made me.

“Well, that’ll never happen,” he snorted. “But, let’s focus on something happy. Open up.” He handed me the box. I pulled apart the purple ribbon and opened it up. It was in an Amazon box, but sure enough, it was a beautiful stage designing set. “It’s Wicked, since I know that’s your favorite musical.”

“Harry,” I whispered, “it’s gorgeous.”

“You like it?” When I nodded enthusiastically, he relaxed. “Oh good. I was worried. Also, I got you something else.”

From behind his back he produced a pretty pink strawberry cupcake, complete with a candle. He took a lighter out of his pocket and held it up to me. “Make a wish, Dani.”

When the flame was lit, I closed my eyes. I didn’t bother to make one. There wasn’t anything more that I needed.

I was expecting the smash, and the cool feeling that followed. I was expecting Harry to double over in laughter as pink goop fell from my face. I was even expecting my own laugh as I wiped it from my eyes so it wouldn’t burn them. What I wasn’t expecting was for Harry to suddenly take my face in his hands and kiss me, the minty taste of his breath mingling with the strawberry of the frosting coating my mouth. The kiss was over before it had begun, and Harry stared at me in fear, like I was going to reject him.

Instead, I smiled.

“Harry,” I said softly, reaching out my hand to him. His own hands shook when he placed his fingers in mine. “Do you want to go on a date?”

When his shoulders sagged in relief and he nodded, I knew.

“Oh, and I really need to go talk to my dad.”

#1dff #movies challenge #harry

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beerecordings · 4 years

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bee i am LIVING for the bartimaeus AU! i just finished rereading the series and ahhhhh! it's perfect!! what are some of the other iplier demons like? who's the biggest drama queen and who's secretly the softest for mark? and i know you mentioned marv, jackie and hen, but does jack also have chase and jj as little demon buds? what are their names/what are they like if so?

these are excellent questions thank you Mads haha and YES isn’t that series the best?? still like one of my favorites

yeah so Mark’s house is just like filled with the grumpiest creatures in the universe but they also logically know that Mark’s helping them and they hate that but some of them try to be grateful. Eric is probably the softest for him cause he loves being protected by Mark - he’s not just anxious about being enslaved by other magicians, he even gets nervous in the Other Place, so this is a nice break for him. he mostly hangs out as small animals and hides in Mark’s clothes or sometimes he’ll just curl up in a drawer or closet or something and give Mark a jumpscare when he opens it haha. also i think Yancy doesn’t mind being Mark’s (doesn’t want to be free lol) and he just hangs around Mark’s garden as a ring-tailed lemur getting fat on fruit.

most of the other spirits Mark watches over come and go because it takes a lot of power to control so many, but the permanent fixtures in his house are Host, Dark, and Wilford. Wilford and Dark are both incredibly powerful but Wilford has lost his mind entirely and he has zero fear of any punishment so he’d be really dangerous if he was ever controlled by another magician. he doesn’t have any concept of death anymore and kills at random if Mark doesn’t help reign him in. Wilford likes to be a ridiculous animal of his choosing usually wearing a party hat or something else ridiculous, a man in colorful clothes, or a big pink bubble. Dark, meanwhile, is severely disabled by his pain. A magician put a curse on him when he got caught in the crossfire of an affair turned into a violent revenge plot and now his body is in constant pain and confusion even in the Other Place. Once an incredibly powerful spirit, he can’t do much now but lie in the room Mark gave him and plot his revenge (although the other marid, Wilford, seems to have taken an interest in him and has started regularly sneaking in to entertain him).

Mark is working really hard to find a cure for the curse, but Dark is slightly out of his mind with the pain and the anger and he hates Mark more than he can express, eventually coming to mistake him for the magician who cursed him in the first place. once Mark meets Jack, they actually start making progress on finding a cure cause Jack is a really good researcher. meanwhile Host is the oldest spirit there, not as powerful as Dark and Wil but clever and cunning. he is blind and usually takes the forms of animals. sometimes he will allow Mark to carry him around as a snake around his neck, threatening to crush his neck at any moment, but he never does.

however the biggest drama queen is probably this dramatic, showy little foliot Mark occasionally summons named Bim. Bim got a taste for human flesh while fighting in the American Revolution and Mark checks on him occasionally because human blood is basically an addictive substance for spirits, the equivalent of a bear huffing petroleum, and Bim’s kind of out of his mind from it. he’s working on getting him detoxed but Bim keeps trying to trap him in game show-style death matches with other spirits, so it’s always a struggle. i think also Google is the one who is the most furious whenever he’s summoned, but he’s been magically bound to another demon named Bing and they both want to be separated from each other! it’s painful for them to be bound together and they can’t get apart even in the Other Place. one of their old masters bound them together as punishment for plotting to kill him and they’re both kind of miserable now. when they’re summoned, they usually take the shape of mismatched animals like a fox and a rabbit or a snake and a mongoose. or, when they’re actually getting along, a pair of almost identical dogs or a pair of human twins with eyes that aren’t quite human. there are others too, like this imp Mark found that just refers to itself as “the Jims”, a creature that likes to mimic the Judeo-Christian concept of an angel called the Silver Shepherd, and a djinni called Iplier who’s seen so much death that he thinks every human he looks at is dying within the next few days and has come to develop a reputation as a death omen (Mark hopes this isn’t true because Ippy really likes to stand at the foot of his bed late at night as a huge black dog and it’s uhhhhh a little weird lol).

and yes, Jack does have Chase and JJ! he finds his spirits in the same order as they’re created in canon, so those two are the newest to him and actually he never intended to keep either of them, just summoned them for research purposes. but when he found Chase he discovered what was essentially depression in spirits and he could not just let that go for both research purposes and because Jack is so fucking empathetic haha. and Chase was fascinated by what the heck was happening in his house and actually curious to be a part of it, so he let Jack keep him and eventually they developed a trust for each other and won’t leave! Chase is technically the weakest of Jack’s spirits because he’s only a foliot. His demon name is Blood Chaser and he likes to be a puppy dog haha. one of those little Target dogs lolll. he’s like the sweetest little guy. he made the mistake of falling in love with a human woman he was sent to seduce and assassinate last time he was summoned, but he never could get himself to assassinate her so another spirit came and did it :( now Chase is paranoid about Jack getting hurt and likes to sleep in the same bed as him to protect him.

JJ, however, was not NEARLY as friendly. he was summoned because of his ties to either Anti or because of the permanent wound on his throat (i’m still deciding which but Jack is really interested in spirit “disabilities” and how to help spirits with them) and he hates humans for everything they’ve done to him. he was trapped in a genie’s bottle for about three hundred years and nearly lost his mind, and either Anti or a human sorcerer permanently disfigured his throat and made it impossible for him to speak verbally no matter what he shape-shifts to. he tries to TERRIFY Jack when he first summons him - but it’s been a few hundred years since he was summoned, and even if Jack wasn’t tough as nails, the forms he picks to scare him are pretty archaic. but he gets really confused cause Jack just wants to ask him like a million questions?? lol. Jack keeps summoning him back again and again to ask him questions and eventually JJ gets really frustrated from the confusion and demands to see what the hell Jack is up to. that’s how he ends up getting introduced to this household full of happy demons and Jack offers to try and find a way to help heal his throat. even if he can’t get his voice back, Jack eventually finds a way to stop the burning pain that’s been haunting JJ for centuries. things progress from there. JJ still has a fear of being confined, so you can mostly find him guarding the woods around Jack’s house, and Jack lets him go back to the Other Place whenever he likes, though they both know it’s safest for him to be with Jack to avoid being enslaved by another magician. JJ’s full name is Nectarian, which is an old kind of alcohol he once used to burn a city down on his master’s orders. Jack said that was super archaic and started calling him different alcohols as a joke, but eventually Jameson stuck and now he likes it :)

#bartimaeus au #narcolepticinsomniac

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frumfrumfroo · 4 years

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What are your favorite movies and TV shows outside of SW? I’m looking for new things to watch since SW was so disappointing

My tastes are pretty eclectic, so I will stick to just things that are either similar to sw or are in the reylo-esque romance wheelhouse and have happy endings:

Chuck. It is a goofy, light-hearted action-adventure show with extremely endearing characters and a very prominent central romance (seriously, heavy romance and there is a lot of payoff for it, you will be FED- it's kind of slow burn but also shockingly NOT slow burn, they are deep into it pretty much immediately). The main couple is the classic Stoic Badass gradually softened by an innocent they have to protect who is a liability in battle but full of the Power of Heart. Chuck is The Heart btw. He is of that vanishingly rare male Beauty (of B&tB) type. He's incredibly generous and open, Sarah is prickly and closed-off. It is Quality. Very much a gender-swap of your typical cliche anime couple lol. I would recommend stopping at the mid-season finale in season 4, because it's downhill from there. The beginning of season 3 is very rough, but it's definitely worth it to stay for the back half, imo. There are several great endings to choose from before things go to shit, so we don't need to talk about the finale. Probably the most tonally similar to SW thing possible without being high/space fantasy. More humour, more silly, but definitely has a spiritual kinship. Has the best THE BEST 'secret revealed' scenes I have ever seen in anything. If you're into that and were hoping for that in ep IX, you need to watch Chuck.

The Shop Around the Corner. 1940 romance/drama film. You've Got Mail is a remake of it. Jimmy Stewart being profoundly adorable, Frank Morgan (aka the Wizard of Oz), various amusing side characters, and an absolutely deathless double blind 'secretly in love with the workplace nemesis' plot that can and probably has been a great reylo AU.

Mirromask. Fantasy/coming-of-age film. Touted as a 'spiritual successor' to Labyrinth by the filmmakers (one of whom is Neil Gaiman) and let me tell you, that is extremely apt. Beautiful, magical, laden with symbolism and Mask Discourse, and has a great ship. I quote it regularly.

Speaking of which, I'm sure you've seen Labyrinth? If you haven't seen Labyrinth, drop everything and watch Labyrinth.

Legend (the Ridley Scott director's cut, not the theatrical cut). Sumptuous fairy tale, runs on proper fairy tale logic, stunning to look at and overall captivating. Tim Curry. Tim Curry as a lonely tragic lord of darkness who tries to seduce the heroine and has drippingly overwrought monologues.

Howl's Moving Castle. Fairy tale adventure/romance film. Beautifully animated, has the ending you want.

The Silence of the Lambs. Thriller/drama film. Actual masterpiece. Use it as a gateway drug to read the books and rejoice that Clannibal is canon and it is spectacular. Just SotL and Hannibal, you don't need to read the other two. Stan Clarice Starling and revel in that ending. Most triumphant 'villain'/heroine ship of all time (he is not technically a villain but for shorthand's sake).

The Adventures of Baron Munchausen. Terry Gilliam 1988 fantasy/adventure film. THE TRIUMPH OF IDEALISM OVER CYNICS I CANNOT STRESS ENOUGH HOW HEALING IT WAS TO WATCH AFTER THE TROS BULLSHIT HIT. Jonathan Pryce's spiritual villain is basically Chris Terrio and it is cathartic to see imagination and sentiment conquer him.

Sabrina. 1995 romance film. Modern fairy tale with Harrison Ford. Rejecting what you thought you wanted all your life for the thing you actually need, growing up but still believing in magic, beautiful character development across all the leads. Could be (and is irrc) a fantastic reylo AU.

The Scarlet Pimpernel. 1934 adventure film. High romance, secret identities, play-acting, people who aren't at all what they appear to be, falling in love with your own spouse, Big Heroism, guile and wit and audacity. It makes me do little kicks like a happy baby. This is one of the 3-5 films constantly tied for my favourite film of all time. There is a good quality rip free on youtube. Watch it and fall in love with Leslie Howard (this is possibly my favourite acting performance of all time).

Oh, related note. Pygmalion 1938 or My Fair Lady. (The musical is based on this film and borrows from it heavily, including its much more romantic ending compared to the original play.)

The Mummy. 1999 action/adventure/romance film. Very tonally similar to sw. A fucking great time, A+ characters.

EVER AFTER. 1998 romance film. The flawless and perfect and best ever Cinderella adaptation. This is the most satisfying film in history, maybe, the ending is so good it is amazing it exists. Also, it has Richard O'Brien being slimy. Huge selling point. Grapples with identity and stewardship, is brilliant.

Fruits Basket. drama/romance anime. I haven't watched the new version yet, but it's following the manga so I know the story. The original anime didn't do the whole plot (because they caught up with the source material) but it's wonderful and I still recommend it. The central ship is (spoiler.........) a B&tB type where we eventually discover the main love interest both feels like a figurative monster and turns into a literal monster. He has an incredible speech about his relationship with people's fear, it makes me weep. I called the endgame from the first episode and always thought it was obvious, but there is a red herring love triangle dynamic. It's really not annoying, though, because it is a red herring. (I hate love triangles)

I am Dragon. Russian monster romance film. Beautiful, simple fable with a really great heroine.

Jane Eyre. 1943 Gothic Romance film. It's Jane Eyre, byronic hero x sensible heroine love story with much atmosphere and Gothic drama. I stan this version because I am an Orson Welles fangirl and I'm also not convinced it can be improved upon. Elizabeth Taylor's film debut btw.

Hellboy. 2004 action/adventure/romance film. Defying destiny, reconciling identity, monster romance. The complete package and a great time. Tonally similar to SW and probably thematically closest to it out of this whole list. Don't watch the sequel.

Beauty and the Beast 1987 tv series. Exactly what it says on the tin. Deals with the classic B&tB themes, but in a different way. He's not cursed and will never transform into an ordinary man. The first season is very episodic and 'case of the week', but the second season gets more into character drama. It's dated, but if you give it a chance you can get past some of the cheese factor and it's really a unique experience. Its concerns are SO atypical that it feels like something fandom would make rather than a mainstream network show. It was so massively, insanely popular with women at the time that a record of Vincent (the beast) reading poetry topped the album charts. Also Ron Perlman and Linda Hamilton. Stop at season two. Point of interest: George RR Martin wrote for this show.

Stargate (the movie not the series) sci-fi fantasy about a nerdy guy who accidentally a hero.

Possession. 2009... mystery/supernatural/romance. Okay. This is a whole thing. Lee Pace and Sarah Michelle Gellar. It's based on a Korean film I've never been able to find for some reason, but being Hollywood they ruined the romanticism and nuance of the original in the theatrical cut to make a shitty punative ending. However. If you buy it on dvd and go to the alternate ending (which follows the original story) with around 20 minutes left (scene after Lee Pace's character wakes from a bad dream-go to deleted scenes and select the alternate ending), you will get a very, very interesting character study/thriller/redemption about sincerity within deception, compassion, and a major question about second chances with a positive answer. It's kind of dark and kind of astonishingly idealistic at the same time. The heroine makes a very powerful choice, twice over. It's fascinating. If you're into the conflicted and uncertain period in reylo, the part where he is most ambiguous, and you wanted more of that and much darker shades to it, you might be really into this. Also, it should be noted, there is a MASSIVE height difference and they show it off. The film is flawed (and the seams show on the Hollywood rewrite) but idk, it's fascinating. Shocking to me that they even got to shoot the original ending. It is pretty balls to the wall with its themes on forgiveness.

I would recommend getting into kdramas because there is a wealth of female-gaze tropey amazing content, but always check the ending before getting invested. My all-time fave is the 1st Shop of Coffee Prince, but it's not sw related at all lmao. It has a happy ending with all the elements you'd want, but it's not satisfying in execution, so that's it's major flaw and I find that pretty common with kdramas. One that is maybe more relevant is My Love from Another Star, which has a hero who is a little bit like Ben in personality. The heroine isn't my favourite, though. It does have a decent ending.

Oh yeah- brain fart. Kurosawa films and classic westerns were both very influential on SW. Or you can combine both and watch The Magnificent Seven.

#this somehow ended up a wall of text??? I'm so embarrassed #anyway it should be fixed now #recs #anyway 40s movies are fantastic they used to CHURN OUT rom coms and even the bad ones are entertaining #and they were not in the romance ghetto they had prestige actors and directors #I don't know what happened and why this isn't done now because that shit was profitable #another edit:#I messed up my directions on Possession bc I first saw the alt ending on YouTube from the fridge point #but actually the full thing starts way earlier and covers more of the loose ends than I remembered #so I've fixed that now as well #(because I just rewatched it after writing this rec) and serious SERIOUSLY someone watch this movie and scream about it with me #I can't stress enough how important it is you switch to the alt ending and watch that INSTEAD of the theatrical cut but but but #If you do - OMG the ending is incredible #the coded conversation the subtle optimism #it is a meeting place where we Soft Reylos and the edgier villain/heroine stans can meet in the middle

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heyitsani · 4 years

Text

I’m Yours to Choose

Keep on Truckin’ AU Part 2

Word Count: 3057

Rating: Teen and Up

Warnings: Robincest (obviously, even if they’re not siblings in this au), mentions of previous near death from a gunshot wound

Pairing: Dick Grayson/Jason Todd

Summary: Dick is back home after being released from the hospital and a stay at the manor. Jason comes by to take care of him and they get a surprise visitor.

Notes: Jason is a food truck owner and Dick is a Gotham PD officer. This is just fluff and more exploration of the dynamic. Next up is their first date!

You can also read this on AO3 here

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

“So, tell me the truth,” Dick glanced over the back of his couch to look at Jason as he moved around in Dick’s kitchen. It was a sight that Dick liked a whole hell of a lot more than he was willing to admit at this stage. “How glad are you to be out from under Daddy Wayne’s watchful eye?”

Dick laughed and shook his head when Jason threw a smile at him from over his shoulder as he stirred something that smelled amazing.

“I am glad to be able to be home.” He didn’t comment on Jason’s snort and went back to sorting through his emails on his laptop. “I’m also glad you were finally able to break away and come over. Even if I find it suspicious you were too busy to come to the manor to see me.”

Jason didn’t bother answering and that was enough of an answer for Dick. He couldn’t blame the other man at wanting to put off that introduction. The pair weren’t even dating. Yet, he hoped at least. He, too, would rather have a couple dates under their belts before Dick introduced Jason to the infamous Brucie Wayne. Even if Bruce would be the real Bruce and not his public persona when meeting one of his kids significant others.

Snapping his laptop closed, tired of looking through and sorting his emails, Dick carefully stood from the couch and deposited the device on the coffee table before moving toward the kitchen where Jason was chopping something green.

“What exactly are you making?” He didn’t laugh when Jason jumped slightly and spun, brandishing the knife. Dick simply raised an eyebrow.

“You are supposed to be resting,” Jason chastised him, frowning.

“I’m allowed to move around, just no overexerting myself. Walking from the couch to the kitchen is safe.” Jason narrowed his eyes, but Dick simply smiled brightly and went to the fridge to grab a bottle of sparkling water. “So? What are you making? Cause my stomach can’t handle much more of the teasing scents.” Pulling himself up onto one of the barstools at the island, he watched Jason resume his chopping.

“Paella.”

“Isn’t that like super hard to make?”

“Nah, not when you know what you’re doing. The prep takes the longest. But I did most of that at home before coming over. Though, I’m totally prepping here next time,” Jason laughed. “You’ve got a chef’s dream kitchen. Do you even use it?”

“Not much time to cook, honestly. And I’m not all that great at it. Alfred comes over every few weeks and cooks a bunch of meals to freeze that I can just heat up on the fly.”

“That explains the freezer and an entire cabinet of glass store wares.” Dick hummed in agreement and drank from his water as he let himself follow Jason’s movements. “I want to make fun of a grown ass man needing a family butler to make him meals so he didn’t only consume cereal or take-out, but then I also want to shake that man’s hand and thank him for making sure you don’t die of malnutrition.”

“He’s my grandfather.” Jason looked over at him with furrowed brows. “I mean technically that’s who he is. He’s Bruce’s legal guardian and Bruce is my adoptive father. But even if it weren’t legal, he’d still be my grandfather.”

“Why the hell is he publicly known as a butler then?”

“Cause the papers say whatever they hell they want. Alf is the real head of that household and he will outlive us all,” Dick raised his water in a cheers motion before taking another drink. “I think Bruce feels like he’s older than him physically. Of course, Alfred only had Bruce and Bruce had Tim, Damian and me. Me alone was probably enough to age him prematurely.”

Jason snickered as he turned back to the food. Dick took the moment to just watch the other man in his element. Sure he had had food made by Jason through the food truck, but this was different. This was the man allowing his true creative nature free. It was an impressive sight and Dick couldn’t help but want to slide up behind him and wrap his arms around the taller man’s waist.

That thought was interrupted by the sound of his front door opening.

“Uh…?”

“It’s probably one of my brothers. They both have keys and I told them to never bother knocking when I’m single.” Dick laughed at the stunned look on Jason’s face as he slid off the stool and headed toward the hallway that led to the door. “Hey Dames,” Dick greeted his brother. Without bothering to ask, he wrapped his arms around the younger boy and hugged him tightly before resting his hands on his shoulders. “What brings you by?”

“I was coming to report to Pennyworth whether or not you are doing well on your own. But I can smell that you have wasted no time in having someone over to cook for you,” Damian sniffed, narrowing his eyes on Dick who simply shrugged. “You’re supposed to be resting, Richard. Why are you up?” Dick sighed and allowed Damian to spin him around and push him back into the main room and over to the couch.

“Oh good, someone he’ll listen to about resting.” Dick threw Jason a betrayed look before slumping onto the couch and watching Damian head over to where Jason was now warily watching Dick’s youngest brother approach. The somewhat meeting at the hospital hadn’t exactly been positive on eithers account so he was uncertain how this one would go.

“Paella?” Damian asked, looking over the food on the stovetop and the other items sitting out. Jason nodded and Damian crossed his arms, staring at the older man for a moment. “Thank you for taking care of Richard. I still do not trust you nor do I think you deserve someone such as him, but I can appreciate someone who is willing to take care of someone of his stubborn nature.”

“Hey! I’m right here!”

“Yeah well, I’m lucky he’s willing to lower himself to be friends with me.” Dick could see Damian’s eye twitch at the word friend and rolled his eyes.

“Want to be more than friends,” Dick called out from his spot. He smiled at Jason when he looked over, a soft smile of his own resting on his face.

“Stop this disgusting display this instant. I have seen too often your dalliances, Richard.” Damian turned his glare onto Dick, who just shrugged and laughed when Jason mouthed ‘is he for real?’.

“Listen, whatever Dick and I are or aren’t isn’t why I’m here. I’m here because I care and that’s what you do for people you care about.” Dick watched Damian consider Jason’s words carefully. “There’s plenty of food and it’s just about done, did you want to join us? It’s vegetarian.”

Damian looked surprised and even Dick was a little shocked that Jason remembered that tidbit Dick had slipped in one of their phone conversations while he had been at the manor.

“I would not want to intrude. I was merely stopping by for a moment.”

“Stay, Dami. If you’re not busy, then stay.” Dick knew that even if Jason didn’t know the story behind him and Damian, he would have easily seen how important their relationship was to each other in that moment.

“I was going to see Rachel at work, but I can stop by after. She only just started her shift.” The mention of Damian’s not-girlfriend made Dick smile wider and Damian’s eyes narrowed further at the expression. “Get that foolish look off your face, Richard. I will not tolerate whatever it is you’re thinking.” Dick merely held up his hands in surrender before shifting to sit properly on the couch.

“Should I put on a movie?” He asked, grabbing the remote off the side table next to him and flicking on his tv. He heard Jason and Damian both agree before he pulled up the menu on Netflix and started scrolling.

He was still searching when Jason appeared in front of him with a plate and his previously abandoned sparkling water. Dick smiled his thanks and tossed the remote onto the couch so he could take the two items.

“Pick something out Dames,” Dick said, putting his water on the table and grabbing the remote to toss to his brother. Damian caught it easily as he sat in the armchair. Jason dropped onto the couch next to Dick a moment later as Damian was starting up The Secret Life of Pets 2. “Oh, I love this one. The bunny makes the whole movie.”

“Wouldn’t have pegged you as a cartoon guy, Damian,” Jason commented. And though Dick knew how much his brother loved animated films, he would be surprised if he’d admit that to Jason. Tentative truce or not.

“I like animals.” And yeah, that was a good compromise.

“Dames wants to be a vet,” Dick told Jason before taking a bite of the food on his plate. “Oh my god, Jay. This is amazing,” he moaned around the food in his mouth. Despite the slight blush on his cheeks, Jason rolled his eyes.

“Swallow before you talk, you heathen.”

“Honestly, Richard, your manners are atrocious. Pennyworth would be appalled.”

“You guys love me just the way I am.”

“Doesn’t mean you aren’t a disgusting slob of a man,” Damian threw back before turning back to the food in his own lap. “But Richard is correct, Todd. This food is quite delicious. I will report back to Pennyworth and tell him Richard is in good hands culinarily speaking. We shall see in regard to the rest.”

“Well, I’ll take what I can get for the time being.” Smiling brightly at Jason when he glanced his way, Dick tried to let his appreciation shine through his expression. He knew Damian could be difficult to swallow and it meant a lot that Jason was so obviously trying. “So, a vet, huh? Do you have pets then?”

Dick leaned back and let Damian informing Jason of his various pets wash over him as he ate and mindlessly watched the movie his brother had picked. He didn’t realize he had zoned out until Jason was nudging him and he found both men looking at him expectantly.

“What?” Jason snorted and Damian rolled his eyes, but Dick could see the fondness.

“I think it’s time for your next round of meds?” Dick glanced at his watch at Jason’s words and nodded. “Where are they? I’ll grab them.”

“Nah, I’ll get them. I have to pee anyway,” he said, just to get the disgusted reaction from Damian.

“Must you announce yourself that way?”

“Oh I must, Little D. I really must.” Jason laughed and took Dick’s empty plate from him and hovered by as he stood slowly from the couch before heading to the kitchen while Dick went to the bathroom in his bedroom. He leaned on the counter once the door was shut behind him, taking notice of how sore he had become. According the time he was two hours late for his pain pills, but he had been distracted enough not to notice.

Carefully, he relieved himself and grabbed the pills he needed before heading back to the living room to take them with the water he had already out. He could see Jason at the sink, washing dishes and Damian still seated in the armchair.

“You waited too long,” the younger stated quietly enough so Jason wouldn’t hear him. Dick shrugged a shoulder as he slowly lowered himself back to the couch. Damian scowled. Dick wanted to do the same because it was awfully annoying how well the younger could read the way he moved and could guess how much discomfort he was in. It had always been a two-way street with them.

“I’m fine, Dames. I promise. I’m just trying to wean off the heavy stuff. I admit I went a little longer than I meant to, but the statement stands,” Dick told him, tossing the pills and water back.

“The doctors said-“ Dick held up his hand and gave Damian a look.

“They suggested. I know what my body can handle better than them. This isn’t the first time I’ve been shot on the job, and we both know it.” And Dick knew that bringing up the incident from when Damian had been barely a teen wasn’t fair. That had been a particularly close call and though this time hadn’t been a walk in the park, it didn’t compare.

The noise in the kitchen had stopped and Dick hoped Jason hadn’t heard most of that for the sake of not wanting to delve into that particular story. But he didn’t have time to focus on that when Damian was glaring at him and standing from his chair.

“Dames, don’t go. Come on. I didn’t mean to bring that up.”

“I told Rachel I would go see her today anyway.”

“Hey, stop,” Dick said softly, reaching out to grab his brother’s wrist as he passed by. “If you want to go, fine. But don’t go mad, okay?” He could tell Damian was considering his options carefully.

“I will bring you back your usual drink from Elemental,” Damian offered, the best ‘I’m not mad’ that Dick was going to get from him.

“Stay over tonight?” The slight nod he got in response was enough. “I’ll call B and let him know.” He knew Damian would only be happy if he was able to know for sure Dick wasn’t lying about his condition. And he wouldn’t get honest answers if Jason was around.

“Nice seeing you again, Damian,” Jason called over from the kitchen where he was drying his hands with a tea towel.

“Yes, well I shall reserve my judgement of you for the time being. But I know ten ways to kill you just using my bare hands and will employ all of them if you hurt Richard in anyway,” Damian remarked as he walked out of the room, leaving Jason stunned and Dick chuckling.

Watching Jason, Dick just smirked and watched him stare at the spot Damian had disappeared from. He didn’t snap back to attention until the front door opened and shut with a decisive click.

“Does he really?”

“Probably not ten,” Dick shrugged. “Maybe like…five.”

“I said it last time and I’ll say it again, he is intense for a teenager.”

“He likes you. Thank you for that.” And Dick meant it. It was rare for Damian to warm up to anyone as quickly as he had just now. But Damian was good at reading people’s intentions and that had made a difference. “And thank you for remembering the vegetarian thing. I have friends I’ve known since I was adopted and they can barely remember.”

Jason shrugged a shoulder and put the towel on the counter before coming back over to the couch and dropping down next to him again.

“I don’t have any siblings, but I’ve always wanted them. My parents should never have been parents, so it was good they only had me.”

“You can take my brothers any time you like. One is allergic to sleep and the other is an old man in a sixteen-year-old body.” Jason laughed and Dick smiled at the sight. He had seen the other man laugh and smile plenty, but there was something different about it in that moment. When neither had any kind of obligations happening and they were just together, enjoying the others company. It was warm. It made Dick’s heart speed up just slightly. “But speaking of friends who I have known for years, my oldest friend Donna is having a birthday party next weekend. I was told under threat of releasing embarrassing information that I was to bring ‘that new hottie Wally told me about’.”

“Are you asking to meet the rest of your harem?”

“Well, they’ll be there but Donna has black hair. If anything, I’d be in her harem.” Jason chuckled and nodded.

“Send me the details and I’ll make sure to be available.” Nodding his head, Dick made a mental note to do it tomorrow so not to seem too desperate. But he was beaming on the inside that Jason had agreed to go. Now he just had to make sure his friends would chill out enough not to overwhelm him. “Can I take you to dinner before that?”

“What?” Dick straightened up a bit more quickly than he meant to, startled by the random words. Rubbing at the healing wound, he held back a wince.

“Sorry,” Jason frowned, his eyes tracking Dick’s hand on his chest. “I didn’t mean to surprise you. I’d just like to have our first date under our belt before I meet all of your friends.”

Considering his words, Dick figured it would be fine for him to go out to dinner. Not like Jason would let him do much of anything strenuous.

“You don’t consider this a date?” He was only joking, but it was kind of a date.

“Not with your little brother crashing, no.” Okay, that was fair. “So?” Oh yeah, he hadn’t actually given an answer.

“Yeah, Jay. I’d like that a lot.” The smile that stretched across Jason’s face took Dick’s breath away and he had to physically stop himself from leaning over and kissing the man. “Jesus, you are beautiful,” he let slip without thinking. The blush that spread onto Jason’s cheeks was well worth the embarrassment he felt for not controlling himself.

“You obviously haven’t looked in any mirrors.”

“Nah, I look in them all the time. I know what people think when they look at me. I would much rather look at you.”

“I will never get over how fucking charming you are.” Dick smiled brightly and leaned further back into the couch. “I bet you could charm a crook into a confession. Have you ever tried?” That made Dick laugh loudly as he shook his head.

“No, I can’t say I have.”

“Well damn, Officer Grayson. Think of all the criminals you could have behind bars.”

“I’ll keep that in mind once I’m back on active duty,” Dick offered. Jason nodded and chuckled softly.

“You do that.”

#food truck owner jason todd #officer grayson #dick grayson #jason todd #jaydick #damian wayne #nightwing #red hood #robin #no capes #au: keep on truckin'#fanfic #anikah writes #alfred pennyworth #so much fluff #like all the fluff

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bangtanfancamp · 5 years

Text

Honey (PJM)

--------------------------------------------

•masterlist

•jimin idol au! x reader

•7.6k words

•fluffy stuff, she gets a bit angsty though, but swiftly back to the fluffy stuff. like a cotton candy sandwhich...idk. I regret that metaphor. Immediately 🤭😂🙈. Lol.

•one shot

• (technically in the same universe as this drabble, but can be read totally independent of each other) happy birthday, baby boy

---------------------------------------------

Jimin was positively glowing today. The buzz around him was always electric after a performance, but it was extra fantastic today. He’d been in his element all night and it showed- he carried himself differently then. He stood taller, shoulders back, chest and perfect chin lifted to the heavens. his skin glistened under the can lights like fresh dew in the morning sun and god, were you helplessly in love with him.

After you’d accepted his proposal, he was insistent that you be present on as much of the tour as possible. He’d said he couldn’t stand to be away from you so he’d swept you up and away into his breakneck pace with him. Which is precisely how you wound up here- half a world away, snacking on a bite sized lemon tart behind the set of a British late night talk show and trying your absolute hardest to keep up as the boys were herded away to take photos following their performance.

The press tour for their new comeback had found the boys in five cities in the past four days- it had been relentless- but Jimin was beaming. Your beautiful boy was doing exactly what he was made for. Laughing and smiling with every stranger he met, enticing a crowd as he danced, drinking in this big fantastic world with bright eyes at every opportunity. You- however- were exhausted.

Sure it was exhilarating to see his life but it was another thing entirely to live it. Especially since this wasn’t actually your job- so you were never entirely quite sure what to do with yourself. You cheered on every performance and celebrated at every dinner, but there was also a tremendous amount of time where you couldn’t really be with Jimin and didn’t actually have something to do. You felt like such a stranger all the time who didn’t know how to keep up the pace.

You’d never been around this many people and you were terrified of getting in the way. No matter how incredible this was, it was still his job. You were a nervous wreck fearing you’d accidentally mess something up. Your elegant eggshell dance was getting overwhelming- that is, until you’d see him. His eyes would find you across the room and crease into those perfect moons and in an instant, you knew you’d do anything for him. You knew you were right where you belonged. You swear, that smile was how he got you to do everything these days. You weren’t really complaining either.

The crowd pushed you into a room filled with giant light panels and sweeping white backdrops- a perfect space to capture the seven golden boys on film. Jimin was standing coifed and perfect along the far edge of the room. He was still in his structured yellow suit from his performance and his presence honestly filled the entire room. His hair had been newly tinted the most delicious shade of honey for this comeback and swept away from his elegant face. The way it shamelessly showed off his bone structure made him look so regal and highborn. You’d be clamoring in line to take his picture too.

As the boys were arranged in line across the backdrop, you noticed Jimin’s eyes searching for someone. You’d assumed he was probably looking for a stylist or staff member until his ethereal grey eyes settled on you, waving you over. Hesitantly, you wove through the cloud of people and settled beside him.

“Yes, love?” You whispered.

“There you are. You’ve been so far away all night!” He was directed to form a bit of a long conga line-esque shape with his boys, him forming the caboose, and twisted his back away from you. You tried to slip out of frame, but he slipped a hand back to grab you.

“Hey, no. Stay with me. I missed you all night.”

“Jimin, you’re working. I’ll get in the way. You can’t use a shot if I’m accidentally in it”

“Then they’ll crop you out.” He insisted.

“Baby, I’m serious. Let me go.” You pleaded, nervously glancing around the set.

“Stay.” He said firmly, his voice resolute but sweet. “I want you by me.” He peaked back over his shoulder with the most dazzling smile. Shoot. And just like that, you were lost all over again.

“Jimin, that’s not fair. How dare you trick me like that.” Your brows furrowed as your lower lip stuck out.

“Like what?” He asked innocently. His giggle was infectious as he licked his lips to stifle a smile. “I’m not doing anything.”

“You know damn well how good you look right now. I don’t appreciate you using it against me” You pouted. He deftly slipped his hands behind him, tugging your wrists until they slipped around his waist. Curse this flirtatious boy. He knew exactly how to pull you in. Your eyes still danced around the room to make sure no one from BigHit was coming for your head, but when no one did, you felt your resolve crack as your cheeks happily pressed against his back with a smile he couldn’t see. The citrus swell of his cologne was warm and sweet, and God, it made you just want to take a bite out of him.

His head dipped forward as he laughed, showing off his beautiful neck. Forgetting yourself, you pressed forward on your toes, leaning into his back to come up and over to kiss the bare skin on his neck, a shudder running through him. God, he was so pretty. He’d gotten so much sun this year. First on vacation with the boys and then with you. The bright suit and dirty blonde hair just highlighted how beautiful his skin was these days. As the tip of your nose trailed across golden skin, You couldn’t help but sink a cloud of kisses into it as his airy giggle floated around your ears.

“See? You clearly missed me too. I don’t know why you’re complaining.” He winked back over his shoulder at you, wisps of blonde hair falling into his face. He tipped his chin down to give the camera heavy lidded eyes as his free hand snaked behind him to tangle with your fingers

“You’re a troll, you know that? Can’t stand you.” You sneared, nose scrunched but lips curled in a smile, tugging a hand free in defiance.

“What a shame. Cuz I can’t live without you.” He sing songed. “This tour is gonna get real uncomfortable with that kind of attitude, y/n. Just sayin.” He shrugged nonchalantly, a smug smile on his devilish lips. He hadn’t caught the way your heart sank at his words.

“It’s already hard for me.” You confessed to no one but yourself. Your words had been the smallest ghost of a whisper beneath your breath, but they pricked Jimin’s heart immediately.

“Hey. Wait….What?” Jimin shifted his weight back on his hip, his sculptured face softening in concern as you tried to slip your guilty hand away. Shoot. “Hey. No, don’t. I heard that, Jagi. What’s wrong?”

Your cheeks blushed softly, guilt tinting them pink at being caught. “Oh nothing. I’m sorry baby. Don’t worry about it. Forget that.”

“Y/n. How am I supposed to do that?” His free hand ruffled through his immaculately styled hair. It should have ruined it but only made it prettier. You sighed wistfully as you watched him spin his fingers through it. Taking a small step back, your shoulders dropped low, relieved to finally be fully out of frame as the tips of your right hand brushed his palm behind his back.

“Because I asked you to.” You said simply.

“Y/n. But you’re-God, I wish we could wrap this up so I could speak to you properly.” He sighed, displeasure clouding his features.

As the camera shifted to focus on an animated Hoseok, you took the moment to steal another kiss to the back of Jimin’s neck. He still smelled so clean and soft and so like him, but you could taste the salt lingering on his skin from his performance on your lips when you pulled back. He usually tasted so sweet, so like sunshine. The sharpness you tasted now reminded you that you weren’t just together in your own little world anymore.

“I’ll be fine, baby. Don’t worry about me.” You smiled into his skin again before slowly pulling away. Oh Jimin. You really did mean it. You loved him. You were so grateful to see his world and just be in the general stratosphere orbiting around him. How many people got an opportunity like this? You were fully aware of what a gift this was.

But at the same time, you felt so small in all this. What purpose did you serve here? How were you adding to the world? This was Jimin’s contribution- not yours. You felt lazy watching the entire room swarm to keep this machine going- stylists, directors, producers, performers. Jimin practiced and performed for hours a day just to fly overnight to start it all over again in a new city. You were barely keeping up, you hardly knew what was going on, and You just felt so…..small.

A stillness and displeasure had crept into Jimin’s features as the shoot progressed. His eyes were stony. His jaw set. He looked beautiful and furious and pissed.

You’d slipped back to the far edge of the room, your aura slowly collapsing in on itself as the night wore on, shrinking to hide yourself. You felt responsible for distracting him, like you’d just self fulfilled your own nervous prophecy that you’d accidentally eff something up on set, and you couldn’t bare to see the mess you’d made.

Jimin had immediately noticed the lack of your presence. The skin of his neck was cooling without the warmth of your lips pressed against it anymore, but he couldn’t move. And he couldn’t leave. Not yet. And It infuriated him. More than anything, he wanted to rush to your side. He didn’t know what was wrong, but he was willing to mold the whole world in his hands to fix whatever it was.

At this point, he was sweaty and tired and annoyed. He desperately wanted to take these damn contacts and all this stupid makeup off and just go hold his girl- but the shoot kept rolling on. His temper was beginning to flair with each new position they were shuffled into. He was ready to leave. When was this damn shoot gonna end?

Taehyung was the first to notice Jimin’s surly demeanor as he placed a loving hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“You look like you’re about to murder someone. What on earth is going on? Where’s y/n? I feel like I haven’t seen her all night.” He shook his shaggy bangs from his eyes, lifting his broad chin for the next shot.

“She was here earlier…..” Jimin sighed.

“Yeah, didn’t you see the lovebirds cuddling on the edge of the set?” Jin popped in, lips pouted and blowing hollow kisses out at the air. “Practicing for the honeymoon already, huh? I know you guys are gonna get married soon but calm down, bro.”

Ignoring Jin’s cheekiness, Jimin continued on. “Something’s bothering her. I just don’t know what. And for the love of god, this shoot will. not. end.” His words came garbled through gritted teeth.

“Do you think that’s part of it?” Taehyung queried.

“What do you mean?” Jimin asked.

“Well, I mean this is exhausting for us, but poor y/n just gets dragged around with us all day. She has to wait on us all the time. She probably misses her life back home.” Taehyung proposed calmly, shifting a hip to slip his hand in his pocket.

“She probably misses you. She came on a three week trip to spend time with someone who works eighteen hours a day and she just has to watch. She’s not at home in her studio or with her friends to pass the time. She’s probably lonely. And bored.” Jin added.

“Oh god, hyung. You’re probably right.” Jimin’s eyes found you across the room, leaned against the wall by the snack table before quickly starting out of the way as a stylist zipped by with a clothing rack. You didn’t seem like yourself. He felt like an idiot for not catching it sooner.

“Of course I’m right! Why do you sound so surprised??You should listen to me more often . I’ve got endless advice.” Jin said proudly. Taehyung rolled his eyes, fake gagging a little at his friend’s arrogance before being quickly being swatted in the shoulder. “Yah! I saw that. You’re lucky to know someone as wise and as handsome as me. Maybe if you listened, you would learn something.”

“Ow! I learned you hit like a girl.” Taehyung quipped, rubbing his arm.

“What?! Oh! Come here- I’ll show you how to fight!” Jin dropped into a boxing stance, crouched with his fists up, bouncing and darting around Taehyung. The shoot was quickly devolving into chaos as an enthusiastic Jungkook joined in the dance, happy to bounce and box and chirp around the other boys. Hoseok joined in, squealing out cartoon sound effects as Namjoon apologized to the photographer for their actions.

Jimin took it as his cue to slip away and find you.

“Hey, do you wanna get out of here?”

You jumped the second the crystalline whisper floated into your ears, gasping sharply only to be calmed by his gentle steady arms.

“Jimin? Where did you come from?” Your eyes wide with panic, looking back toward the chaos erupting on set, but Jimin slipped a ring laden hand against your cheek to pull you back to him.

“Wherever I had to to get to my favorite girl.” His smile was so sweet. “Hey, I’m starving and I really want to get out of here. Come with me?” How could you say no to eyes like those, so boyish and wide and full of hope.

“Okay,” you agreed, head bobbing your assent. He took his cue immediately, grabbing your hand and beginning to slip away. “But, wait! Jimin! Won’t you get in trouble? I don’t want to cause anything.”

Jimin turned over his shoulder to dismiss you, but stopped the second he saw your face. Worry was making you chew your bottom lip as your sweet eyes looked wide and startled up at him. He knew better. He knew that face. You were an anxious mess. He wasn’t gonna get you anywhere until he addressed this first, but before even bothering with his words, he dipped down to kiss you.

Nothing passionate or heated- just something soft and gentle, to get your attention. A simple kiss to bring you back to earth. God, you’d missed this. You melted pliant into his lips, wobbling a little when he pulled back, luminous smile glittering across his face. He laced his fingers into yours.

“We won’t get in trouble. Promise.I’d like to see them try. You’re with me….I got you. Do you really think they’d have the nerve to mess with the future Mrs. park Jimin? Please. C’mon.” He winked and your spine tingled.

Jimin called a driver to meet you both at the back entrance and take you back to the hotel. He wove you through hallways and rooms you hadn’t noticed before to grab his things and swept you toward the exit. Before he walked out, he stopped- snatching a jacket out of his bag.

“For you, my love.” He slipped the oversized cream hoodie over your head and pulled the hood up over your face, hiding your hair, sleeves spilling over your delicate fingertips. “God you look good in my clothes. I always forget.” He licked his lips, eyes warm as they danced over you. “C’mon. Let’s get you out of here.” He slipped a mask over his jawline, popped a pair of shades over his eyes and tugged you into the night, guiding you into the black suv.

The ride back to the hotel was quick, quiet, peaceful. It was the first bright splash of stillness either of you had gotten to indulge in all day, and talking would just shatter it too soon. Jimin leaned back against his seat, manspread in his tailored yellow suit with his elegant neck craned back against the headrest. He’d undone his top few shirt buttons, the smooth skin underneath kissed by the night air. His fingers were busy raking through his thick hair as his eyes danced over the city. His hair had taken on an ashy hue in the streetlights, and as you both slipped into the night, his sultry eyes finally closed- if just for a second.

Window rolled down, you pushed your hood back a bit to take in the sights of a city you may never be lucky enough to see again. The wind whipped fluttery tendrils of your hair out of place, but you didn’t mind at all. It was the first time all day that you’d finally let your guard begin to drop and it felt amazing…

Your fingers reached behind you to twirl loosely with his on the seat between you. He happily took your hand in both of his, making a proper profession of caressing your knuckles softly. He still had his rings on from his performance, the cool metal occasionally tapping against your skin. A smile tugged at the corner of your lips at the contact and finally- you decompress.

It was the first time in days that you both sat still with no other people around. You couldn’t imagine how he exists under that kind of press all day long. It’s ignited a new respect in you for him and all that’s asked of him. It’s an impressive feat indeed for any human, especially one as sensitive and sweet as Jimin.

You wonder- for the first time -why it had never occurred to you on this trip to ask how he was doing. He had just seemed so happy despite all the reasons he should be overwhelmed so you assumed he was fine…but maybe you should get out of your head enough to check on him. I mean, it wouldn’t hurt to-

“Hey baby, we’re here.” Jimin tugged at your fingers, snapping you back to the moment. “You floating off in space again?” He whispered soft as he pressed a kiss to your knuckles. He was smiling like the midday sun at you again and there went your train of thought. “He’s gonna pull us around back so we don’t get spotted, but just in case..” he reached forward to tug your hood back up, this time swooping it so far it covered your eyes entirely . You felt like a fransican monk in stylish streetwear but you laughed and went along with it and Jimin loved you just a little bit more for it.

Once again, a simple task had taken longer than necessary for the both of you. They’d had to weave you through hallways and stairs and back rooms in an attempt to avoid the press and fans flocking in the lobby and valet parking. Jimin was sweet, whispering in your ear like this was a covert spy mission to distract you from how long this was all taking.

Forty minutes later, you were finally in your hotel rooms. Jimin had kissed your nose and told you he needed to get out of these clothes and clean up but he’d be right back with you. You took the opportunity to promptly collapse on your back on the luscious bed, limbs splayed like a high and dry starfish, and let all the tension of the day drain from you.

Your skirt, tights and heels were quickly replaced with soft pajama shorts, your bra and blouse immediately discarded, but found yourself crawling back into Jimin’s hoodie. It smelled like him, and the oversized cosiness of it made you feel lazy and warm-and you were 100% down for that. Dragging your bag over to your bedside, you dug around until you found your makeup wipes and began to scrub off the day. Legs crossed beneath you, you settled into your routine. You hair had been fortuitously flopped up into a bun, and your eyeliner was being gently smudged away as a happy tranquility descended over you.

Half an hour later, the door clicked as your Jimin made his way into the room. The press tour had been a lot- it had presented a lot of challenges you never expected, but that didn’t mean there were no rewards. One of your favorites was seeing Jimin like this- fresh from the shower, just a natural boy.

Your eyes danced over the clothes he’d snatched to throw on. Over how unfair it was that he somehow looked even better when he didn’t try- an oversized white T-shirt with a too wide collar showing off his pretty throat and chest, and soft black joggers- the epitome of comfort- that did nothing to hide his dancers stride or his perfect backside. Stupidly pretty boy.

So unfair.

“Hey, baby girl” he smiled, flopping on his belly beside you. His weight made you bounce a bit, giggling to yourself. His face was bare enough for his dusting of freckles to show, and all his pale honey hair flopped forward heavily into his eyes. As vain as he always seemed about his hair, by the end of the day on tour he was just perfectly too tired to style it and you adored it. It was so god dang boyish and cute, and You loved how you got to part it out of his eyes like a curtain every time you kissed him on the forehead like you did just now.

“Why do you still have all your jewelry on? I’ve never understood that” you reached forward to trace a finger lightly under the chain on his neck.

His smile is airy and light as he rolls over to face you.

“Do I? I honestly just forget it’s there.im so used to it all now” He’s so winsome and innocent as he scoops his hair out of his eyes to smile up at you. There’s really no reason to though- his grin is pressing his cheeks so high and tight that his crescent eyes shut anyway. You dip forward from your hips with a smile to blow at his bangs.

“You really are an old pro by now huh? How do you do this all the time? and how do I keep up with you?” You ask easily, shaking your head softly at the ethereal creature on your duvet.

“Do what? Get my hair played with by a pretty girl? It’s not that hard. They’re lining up around the block for it really. But None of them are ever as good at is as you though.....Plus, your services come much cheaper. Professional cuddlers really make you pay through the noise these days.” He settles back against your lap, the picture of contentment as you play with the strands.

“You punk,” you tease, popping him in the forehead. “For your sake, I will ignore the fact that you just called me easy.” A wicked eyebrow arched over your features as you stuck your tongue out at him.

“Not easy. You just don’t charge what your worth.” He said smugly, cuddling into your lap.

“Impossible, that’s what you are.” You sigh.

“Impossibly in love….with your heart.” He quips. Oh god that was corny. Unashamed, he presses on, beaming up at you with puckered lips, fingers crafted into two hearts.

“Ew! That was gross.” You pretend to wretch at his cheesiness, choosing to ignore the goofy swirl of warmth in your belly at his words.

“We both know you love it, y/n. You can’t fool me.” He says smugly.

“Oh can’t I? I could if I wanted to.” You defend.

“And why would you want to? Hmm? Why would you want to hide something from me?” His eyes flit up to you, suddenly a bit more serious. It’s the first time you notice he’s taken his contacts out- the beautiful chocolate eyes you fell in love with looking solemn up at you.

“Who says I am?” You shift beneath him, gaze suddenly infatuated with the rooms decor. God that orchid arrangement is ostentatious.

“Even Jin can tell. So you know it’s obvious.” He deadpans.

“All knowing Jin huh? Idk, I mean he’s pretty perceptive. I wouldn’t undercut him.” You ramble.

“Y/n….” he flips up, to see you at eye level. “You know if something’s bothering you, you can talk to me, right? If we can’t even talk to each other, we’re not gonna get very far. What is it, Jagi? Where have you been lately?” He taps your temple lightly, his face soft to show you every word is genuine.

“I don’t… um, I mean… there’s nothing wrong. Per say… I just…”

He pins you with a look that says spill and your facade begins to crumble. “Y/n… I didn’t give you this because I don’t know you.” His thumb brushes over the glittering detail of your ring. “You’re not telling me something.” At this, you melt. Just flop over and dissolve into a pile of mush as his honesty makes your heart squeeze. You hate when he’s sweet. You hate when he’s right. You thought you’d hid it better than this….

“Besides,” he continues, “Even if I didn’t know you, you’re a shit liar, babe. Those big eyes show everything. They just don’t give specifics- so spill.” His smile is kind but his eyes hold a challenge- he isn’t going to drop this. No way in heck is he letting this go. Brows furrowed, your resolve begins to crumple.

“Jimin….”

“Y/n…. Spill.”

With a heaving sigh, you acquiesce.

“Fine…” you huff. “I have no idea what I’m doing here! I’m an absolute disaster.” Your head hangs as you begin to pour heart out, hands flailing, downturned eyes completely unable to meet Jimin’s.

“I constantly feel like I’m in the way. I’m struggling to keep up with everything and I don’t- I don’t know what to do with myself. And all I can think of is - is this what my whole life is gonna be? Do I either have to go half the year without you or drop my whole life and feel lost and terrified to follow you around the world with no purpose of my own? I’m not part of the big hit machine, but everyone else here is. And everyone here is working so hard and I’m just… what? Here on vacation? Getting in the way and following my famous boyfriend around while he works? I feel like such a groupie… I feel like such a… a nuisance.”

“Stop.” Jimin clutches at your wildly flailing wrists. “Baby, stop. My groupie? Are you serious right now?”

“Yes! I am. Jimin, I love what you do. My God, you are so incredible when you sing and dance- the way you move- don’t make that sexual, you know what I mean- you…. you are the most amazing performer I’ve ever seen. You have worked so hard for this for so long. I remember when you were so stressed that you were barely eating or the nights I’d text you at 1am to tell you goodnight and find out you were still in the studio. And it’s paying off for you. Which is great because I don’t know anyone else who deserves this worldwide praise like you do- but baby, I’m a freelancer. I put in the effort but my work is never thriving. I can’t even begin to be in the same eschalon as you. I still have two roommates back home.”

“So? I have six,” his eyes are so warm but his brows are still knitted together, trying to follow what’s really underneath all this.

“Not because you have to. Not because you’d be on the street without two other people supporting your rent! I’ve got all these things I love to do, right? But they don’t pay the bills for me. My businesses have never turned into what I hope, but there are 14 year olds on Instagram who decide to sell something they make on whim and a month later it’s so successful that they’re verified…. and I’m… I’m just….”

“Baby?” Jimin dips forward to lift your chin. His eyes find yours and he smiles…. he simply smiles at you- warm and kind and lightfilled like nothing you’ve said has scared him the way it scares you. It helps you finish what you’ve started to say.

“I don’t want to hold you back!” It all rushes out in one clumsy exhale as you shut your eyes tightly, bracing for impact. “I want to be good enough for you. I don’t want to have to depend on you. I want to bring something to the table too. You’re Park Jimin. You’re already a legend. You deserve the whole world...you deserve a girl who works just as hard as you. Is just as successful as you. But I have so many dreams and hopes that just haven’t worked out. They’ve all failed so miserably compared to you and I…. I just… I want to be a wife you can be proud of.. I want … I want to be proud of me too.”

and that’s when the tears fell.

Silent. Unspectacular. Hidden but insistent as you fall in on yourself and Jimin’s heart breaks. He had no idea.

He’s always admired you so much.... He had no idea you thought so little of yourself and it makes him ache. He sees the whole universe when he looks at you. Surely you saw it too.

But right now, you didn’t. You’d been able to come on this tour because business had been that slow that you being gone for three weeks wouldn’t have made a difference. In his excitement to have you by his side, Jimin had offered to cover your share of rent for the month you’d be gone with him and that had been that. He was ecstatic to have you with him . He’d rattled off about it dreamily for weeks before you left. But as excited as you were to see his world with him, for the first time, it made you realize just how small your world was without him. It had bothered you ever since. This was Jimin’s first glimpse of it, and it wrecked him.

“Jagi…. baby, come here.” His airy voice is pleading as he scoops you into his chest. Your nose burrows into his neck, skin squeaky clean from the hotel soap, and you cry. Feeling hidden, unaccomplished and ashamed. You’ve never felt more exposed in your life- you never wanted to tell him any of this. You couldn’t bear the idea of how he’d look at you if he knew, but oh how wrong you were.

“Baby,.... I’ve always been proud of you.” His voice is gentle in your ear, almost a whisper. No one else exists in this moment besides the two of you. He presses his cheek to your forehead, his fingers lost in your hair as he holds you. “You were my best friend when I was a trainee. I felt like a wreck then- I was so stressed out I could barely breathe. But you always told me everything would be okay. Always. You’d remind me why I was special and that the world would see it one day.” You felt his cheek swell as he smiled. “But can I tell you something?”

“What?” You sniffled, a snotty mess beneath him.

“I never believed you.”

Your eyes shot up to meet his. “What?”

He chuckled softly, his thumb delicately brushing a tear from your cheek.

“Nope. Not a bit. I loved hearing your words when you built me up, but I didn’t believe you. Not even when you’d get all starry eyed when you saw me dance or I’d sing to you.” He confessed.

“I never got starry eyed over you.” You mumbled, sniffling and hiding against his skin. Smiling, he gently pinched your cheek and held it.

“Liar.” He kissed your pink face and scrunched his nose at you. “But I’m serious, back then, I wanted what you said to be true. I really did, but I didn’t feel it. Not here. Definitely not.” He brought a hand up to his chest and placed it over his heart.

“I wanted the band to be successful so badly. I knew I could dance and perform, I knew what I could bring. But I thought my singing held us back. People would post videos of me missing my notes or of me tripping and falling on stage. I was smaller than everybody. I’d get ranked least attractive...I felt like the weakest link all the time. And that's what I believed. That’s the voice I listened to. More than anything. Even more than you. Because that’s what felt true. Not the sweet things from my best friend or even the nice words from fans or the other members. We were working so hard, but we never knew if our dreams would happen. People try every day and it doesn’t come true. I didn’t want to be the reason it didn’t come true for everyone else.”

You gazed up at Jimin as he wandered through his memories. Brow pinched and beautiful mouth frowning at the edges as he remembered a time when doubt consumed his world.

“But then there was you. You were so talented and kind and everybody liked you. Everybody. I fought Taehyung to get to close to you. He still won’t let me forget that he saw you first. But I didn’t care, I had to get to know you. You were so incredible and so out of my league. This impossibly pretty girl who I’d had a crush on forever …. I didn’t even think you’d talk to me. Do you have any idea how long it took me to introduce myself to you?”

Curled against his body, you looked up him in awe. He - liked you then? Before you even knew him? How had he never told you any of this? You thought you knew him inside and out, but it seemed Jimin had his secrets too. Eyes wide and soft, you pressed against his chest as you listened.

“But once I did, once we were friends, you’d tell me how amazing I was- all the time! Me! I don’t think you ever understand how insane that was to me. How much much it mattered when you’d say how one day the whole world would see how special the band was- how special I was.

“You’d ask me to sing for your over the phone. You made me laugh when I hated everything. You’d get furious when anyone would criticize me, and you’d make the biggest deal out of all the small accomplishments I thought didn’t matter. You were so kind to me when I was a nobody, when I thought I was small and when the world finally figured out who we were, you already knew because you’d been the biggest fan all along.” He looked down at you, eyes shining with a pride so bright it was hard to look at directly.

“And even after all that, I was still shocked when you let me take you on a date. You were my best friend- but I still thought you could do way better than me. I was nuts about you, don’t get me wrong, but I mean, I was such was a mess, and I....I am talking so much. Like way too much. I know that, but it’s just….. y/n, I need you get this. You saw me when no one else did. That’s why you feel like home, y/n. That’s why I knew I didn’t want anyone else but you beside me for the rest of my life.” He kissed the back of your hand.

“So…. if your life doesn’t look how you want right now, that’s okay. We’re still young. You have so much time. Where you are is normal. I’m the exception, babe. You can’t compare yourself to that. What’s happened with the band is a one in a million fluke. It cant be your standard, baby. If that’s your measuring stick, it’ll destroy you.....But i know this-if anyone can achieve their dreams, it’s you. Without you, I would never have achieved mine. So, if I can help take care of you now, I’m gonna do it. I don’t even have to think twice.” He shrugged easily. A happy lazy smile on his lips. “But i know you. You want to earn your way too. I know you’ll get there. But….promise me, be nice to yourself now. Don’t throw yourself away- for me.”

Cradled in his arms, you looked at the hand Jimin extended to you, pinky crooked and ready to hold on forever. “Promise me,” he whispered, the sound warming your bones. Silently, trouble melting from your shoulders, you sighed. One heave, long and slow enough to process all the love he’s just showered upon you. How could you do anything less than give him your forever? Trust him with your now when he believed in you so much?

“Promise.” You breathed, eyes wide, still dotted with tears and you slipped your pinky around his, holding on for dear life. He melted when you did, scooping you in tighter and pressing his lips to your joined fingers.

“My Jagiya.” His smile beamed down at you, and you felt yourself grow warm in his light. “Hey. Listen, I know I’ve talked a lot, but I’m serious about taking care of yourself. It’ll make life so much easier on the way… I promise. For tour, you don’t have to prove your worth here. Everyone loves you and loves having you around. The stylists all think you’re so pretty. The boys on staff all blush whenever you’re nice to them. Everyone here thinks the world of you. Please let this be a vacation from you feeling like the world is on your shoulders. Just rest here. Or do your art here. We can pick up some art supplies in London and you brought your camera. Jungkook and Tae would love to help with that. And no, you wouldn’t be in the way. People love helping you, y/n. You just have to let them. God I’m talking so much.” He bugged his eyes playfully. Wiping your eyes, you giggled at his silliness.

“Ugh…. baby. I love you. I want you here. We’ll have a proper vacation soon, but while we’re on tour- talk to me. You’re not in the way. You can hang out with us and come to practice and take photos and make art. This is a good thing. We’ll figure out how our world will look when we get married. I’m not willing to give you up. So we’ll figure out how to make us both happy, yeah? It’s that simple” his eyes are starry with promise. It makes you believe him. It makes you realize you’ve been looking at this all wrong.

After several beats of silence, you finally ask, “I’ve been way in my head over this, haven’t I?

“Yes! Dear god, yes.” Jimin slumps exhausted against the headboard. Faking offense, you smack his chest and he rolls with laughter, trapping your hands again and pulling you into him. “You think too goddamn much, woman!” he bellows. “But honestly, it’s just cuz your brain’s so big.” He teases, poking you in the forehead. “Guess I can’t have the smartest girl in the room without her short circuiting and forgetting she’s the most magical thing in the world.”

Sniffling, you protest, “I don’t think anyone’s smarter than Namjoon. “

“And he thinks nothing of himself too. Honestly. A pair of fools, both of you.” His eyes roll.

“Not bad company then. Maybe I should go ask for his advice too.” You bounce your eyebrows teasingly, and Jimin’s jealous streak flairs gloriously as he tackles you on the bed.

“Hey!” He puffs his chest out, eyes squinting in mock fury. “I didn’t rebuild your ego for you to run to another man.” He growls playfully.

“Namjoonie! Come coach me out of my self doubt!” You call in a seductive, breathy tone. Jimin is having none of it.

“And I did not sneak you out of that photo shoot to pretend flirt with my friend. You’ll pay for this.” He challenges.

“Come and get meh” you tease, slipping out from under him just to have him lunge after you. A sharp squeal echoes through the room as you bounce across the bed with Jimin hot on your tail.

“Aaaaaagh!!!!” Jimin lets out a growl as he snatches you around the waist, flopping you both down into the mattress. “You’re gonna pay for that,” he snarls, eyes devilish as he bites at the outer edge of your ear.

“No, I won’t,” you giggle. “Didn’t you hear? Park Jimin has a soft spot for me.”

“Oh does he?” His nose drags across your throat.

“Yeah, I’m his favorite,” you stutter out, suddenly breathless at his touch.

“Hmm, we’ll see about that.” His eyes flick up to yours, and you think he’s come to repossess your soul. Dear god, his eyes. His breath is warm and swirling close, and you try to gather the last of your wits to ask a question before you’re lost beneath him altogether.

“Jimin… baby. Hey.” His attention has fully been lost as his mouth becomes preoccupied with the curve of your thoat. “Jim-oh.” Crap, why is he so good at that? Stuttering, you push through the haze his touch had created, attempting to regain your focus. “ S-stop that… Jimin, I’m trying to...I’ve been meaning to a…”

“Why do you talk so much?” He asks, the tip of his nose playful against yours.

“Jimin,... I’m serious. I need to ask you…”

“What, Jagi?” Letting out a huff, he rocks back to look at you. His voice is calm, teasing, but Whatever self control he’s got is about to snap- you can tell from the way he’s pulling his bottom lip into his teeth, the way his sweet eyes have become so satisfyingly predatory. He’s as hypnotic as a snake right now, fully ready to consume you, and your dumb butt is trying to talk about his feelings. Why are you doing this to yourself exactly?

Pushing your hands against his chest to get some breathing space, you pull back to ask,” I’m sorry my timing is so stupid. Truly, I am. Trust me. But…. I mean, I haven’t bothered to ask how you’re doing. It just feels so inconsiderate of me. I’ve been too wrapped up in my own problems.” You roll your eyes, annoyed at your own thickheadedness.

Jimin’s glassy giggle rings through the air as he dips his forehead to yours, his luscious hair brushing wispy against your skin.

“Me? Oh baby girl. That big heart of yours. I’m fine. This is nothing. Come find me when we’ve been on the same tour for a year and a half. Just a month in? It’s still just all the fun stuff.” His eyes are bright and judgment free, ignoring the fact that he’s flourishing where you’ve been drowning.

“Oh… well, if it ever does get overwhelming, you’ll tell me, right?” You ask, still concerned and trying to save face.

“Trust me- you’ll be able to tell.” He mimics his own angry eyes and you both fall into giggles. “But yes, Jagi.” He drops down to kiss your nose. “I promise I will tell you…. Pinky promise.” He reaches for your palm pressed against his chest and weaves your fingers together- wrapping your pinkies together and linking your thumbs, kissing them gently to lock in his vow. Your eyes flutter soft and loving up at him as he does.

“Good.” You whisper. “Now…. where were we?”

Jimin smiles, triumphant as he stalks close to his kill. “You were about to prove why you were my favorite.”

“Oh was I?”

“Absolutely.” Jimin grips the back of your leg, and in one quick snatch, yanks you to him. Your eyes blow wide as you you yelp helplessly. God, always forget how strong he is, and how much you like it when he shows it off. Satisfied with your submissive reaction, his grin grows impossibly cocky as slots himself on top of you, tongue wetting his impossibly full lips as he finally begins to lean in when...

“JIMIN!!!! Jimin!!!!! We’ve got to do an after show Vlive!!” It was Hoseok, banging a ruckus on jimin’s hotel door.

“Oh my god, are you serious? I’m gonna kill J-hope.” Jimin’s forehead crashes into your neck defeatedly.

“Come on, Jimin! Get off y/n already so we can get finished! ARMY’s waiting! Namjoon tweeted we were gonna start fifteen minutes ago!! Check your phone for once. We all texted you, bruh.” Hoseok blasted through the door.

“Yah!!! All right! All right!! I’m coming!....stupid Namjoon.” He muttered under his breath. “I haven’t properly kissed you in days. Not cool, bro. Not cool.” Jimin pouted. His deep set eyes lost under the furrow of his brows as he brushed his thumb along the curve of your lip, forlorn and pent up.

Teasingly, you caught his thumb with the tip of your tongue and pulled it into your mouth. Warm and soft, you let it go with a gentle pop as you broke the suction and jimin’s eyes blew wide. “Go… I’ll be here when you get back.” You whispered, eyes bright and enticing.

Jimin wove hasty hands into your hair, his breathing ragged. “ wow....How the hell am I supposed to leave you after that?”

“Because…. I said so. And there will be more when you come back.” You winked, loving being in control now. He wasn’t the only one who could play the seduction game.

“Oh my god.” Jimin, swallowed roughly, his eyes heavy lidded as he tried to regain his motor functions.

“Now go, I’ll order room service for you to Hobi’s room. You never had dinner. Go give army a treat, and I’ll treat you when you come back to me.” You kissed his palm as your voice took on the sultry edge that always made Jimin melt.

“Can we do the thing? You know the one where..”

“I know what you’re talking about, Jimin,... and the sooner you go, the sooner you find out if my answer is yes.” You winked, before mouthing “its yes” silently as you nodded at him.

“Yup! There it is! I’m gone!” Pressing a smacking kiss to your forehead, Jimin bounded up from the bed as you fell into a fit of laughter. As he turned back to smile at you from the doorway, your eyes raked over him one last time before snagging on something that made you howl with laughter.

“Jimin- Wait! seriously??? Already? You didn’t even kiss me yet! Put your hands in your pockets! Or only be on camera from chest up!” You cackled at him. Confused, he followed your eyeline to-

“Oh god, is it that… yup. No, it is. God, Jagi, you’re dangerous when I finally get you out of that head of yours.” He reaches down to adjust his joggers, laughing bashfully at the mess you’d made of him.

“Gotta make it up to you somehow,” you shrugged from the bed.

“Hey, no…. I’m serious though. I’m glad you’re feeling okay now. You trusted me to tell me your heart, and that means a lot to me. You sure you’ll be okay if I go?”

“I’m sure. I have a vacation to finally start enjoying.” You smiled, stretching out across the bed. As you shifted, your (Jimin’s) hoodie crept up, showing off a sliver of your stomach and Jimin licked his lips again.

“My god. Look at you. I’ll be gone thirty minutes tops.” He bolted back, planting a kiss that made something along your spine tingle. “Wait for me. I’ll be back” he smiled, peeling himself away to leave before jhope returned with his racket.

“You better…… hey,” you propped up on your elbows and called out to him.

“Yeah?” He looked back, eyes alight with love.

“I love you, park Jimin.”

He blushed, genuine and sappy, eyes crinkling soft along the edges. “I love you too, y/n l/n. And hey, We’ve got this. The whole world’s gonna be ours. We’ll figure it out. We’ve got time.”

Your felt warmth pool in your eyes. You threw a pillow at him so he wouldn’t see you cry. “God, you’re such a sap.” You smiled.

“You know you love it.” He winked. “Bye, baby girl.”

He was right. You did.

fin.

277 notes · View notes

yeats-infection · 4 years

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@sqvalors tagged me in a lil writing meme... if you’d like to participate please do and tag me!

ao3 name: fluorescentgrey but i also post some things as drglass (dr. glass is the second song on the fluorescent grey EP by deerhunter, so if i make another pseud it will be likenew, then washoff, etc.)

fandoms: about two thirds of my fics are harry potter or star wars but there are a lot of random little goodies. currently i have shifted into the terror (2018) mode.

number of fics: 59 right now... i will throw a party when i get to 69...

fic i spent the most time on: this is funny because some of these technically took me like six months or more of working on them extremely intermittently... namely, bone machine. the series in the garden has taken me the most time generally... and in that, minuet did take me several months of working really hard while i had a schedule / commute that was not conducive to having a creative practice...

fic i spent the least amount of time on: hilariously, literally my most popular fic by ninety miles, the witcher PWP that i wrote out of spite in two or three hours.

longest fic: the source codes series... particularly heelstone which is 102k. i wrote these two stories in a single summer like a crazy person and i hate talking about them because i find them WAY too gooey. honestly, that’s why they are so long. it’s all the gooeyness!!!!!!

shortest fic: yes, the answer is the witcher porn again (this silly thing is going to be the answer for many other questions in this little meme but i’m just going to stop talking about it while i’m ahead). the west end is just about 50 words longer and is much better and is a much better and more interesting story.

most hits: we’re just going to pretend it’s sex and dying in high society, which has the second most hits. this is certainly due to the fact that @wolfstarwarehouse hypes this story a lot for which i am endlessly grateful!

most kudos: recovery position has the second most kudos so let’s go with that one! i have been very touched by the response to this story, though i do personally like the sequel beachcoma a little more... i understand why not everyone wants to read it because it is a little more bittersweet. but it also comes from my soul.

most comment threads: the two stories in the source codes series are leading here, because i only posted two chapters at a time so that i would get maximal validation, lol.

most bookmarks: in order to talk about a story i haven’t talked about yet, the rosary has the fourth-most. i think this fic is truly my r/s swan song... i said everything i wanted to say and did everything i wanted to do. it’s a really good mystery/noir story that i didn’t think i could pull off until i did! and i love the OCs in it who have sort of manifested these secret headcanons for me that i may expostulate upon someday. thank you to @piovascosimo for the inspiration to write it.

total word count: 1,000,478. lol!

favorite fic i wrote: cannot possibly choose but probably the top five in order of date posted are: desperado, a handful of dust, doom town, beachcoma, jump into the fire

fic i’d rewrite / expand on: i already said all of source codes because it’s way too gooey, i also could make hard time killing floor blues a lot tighter, and a memoir of the flesh deserves a way better ending because i was rushing to make the yuletide deadline...

share a bit of a WIP: i was trying for a while to write a band of brothers AU where they are vietnam vets who start growing cannabis... based on the steve earle song “copperhead road.” this could have been SO good but the plot was too huge and unwieldy so i gave up. my roommate is obsessed with this idea and keeps asking me how it’s going so i may yet finish. but there’s a bit below the cut.

The knock at the door in the night was a sharp shock, bright as lightning, that sent them both back to Khe Sanh and before. Nix ducked. Dick went behind the doorframe. They kept low into the kitchen, where Nix took his old officer’s pistol out from where he kept it hidden behind the fridge. Then they went to the door, keeping to the edges of the hallways.

On the porch was Liebgott. He could have made his own way in likely right onto the couch without either of them noticing, so it was something that he had knocked on the goddamn door. It was particularly something given that none of the boys from Easy should have known about the grow operation, or even about Dick’s farm, being as Dick’s address on file at the V.A. was a post office box in town and Nix’s was still in Jersey. These considerations were nil to somebody who had spent the better part of five years in the bush of Vietnam. He took a last draw from his cigarette and put it out against the rubber sole of his boot, then he put the butt in his pocket. As far as Nix knew, he hadn’t said a word since January 1970.

“Joe,” said Dick diplomatically. He put his hand out and Liebgott took it. Then he took Nix’s. He had handsome dark eyes, but they were full of a wall. You could tell he saw you, but it was like nothing followed the necessary channels to the brain to spur emotional response. It had been like this even while he was still talking, and after a while you got used to it.

“You comin' in,” said Nix, knowing he probably would even if he wasn’t invited.

Inside, they all three sat at the kitchen table in silence nobody was about to break. Finally Dick got up and went to the drawer where they kept the rollies and their share of the product. He passed a sheaf of papers and a film canister full of bud to Liebgott across the table. Nix understood as well as Dick apparently did that there would be no getting anything over on this kid, who had eyes in the back and sides of his head. He’d probably had a nice tour of the property before coming inside. “You hungry, son,” Dick said.

Liebgott shook his head. He extracted one of the buds from the canister and inspected it. They did look mighty good if Nix said so himself. They looked artful in Liebgott’s hand. There were black scabs across his knuckles and a dark rime of filth under those fingernails which still existed. He seemed satisfied enough with what he saw to take a paper out of the sheaf and start shredding the flower into it.

“Captain Nixon calls it Easy Diesel,” said Dick, like he was trying to pretend it wasn’t the funniest thing in the world.

Liebgott looked up and a smile flashed across his face like the savage golden light of a flare falling over the far hills. His smile was sort of brutal, like the edge of a knife in a barfight, or like a seething animal. Luckily it went away as quickly as it had come. He rolled the joint with a quick grace and lit the business end with his old silver Zippo Nixon hadn’t seen since the war. There was a skull engraved on one side and on the other it read IF YOU ARE RECOVERING MY BODY, FUCK YOU.

“I don’t know how you found us, Joe,” Dick said thoughtfully. “You don’t have to… tell us. But we ain’t exactly keen to have just anybody here.” He paused and looked quickly to Nix, who tried to make it abundantly clear by means of eyebrows that he wasn’t sure they ought to go down this road, wherever it was leading. Dick ignored him. Liebgott was watching them, fully understanding their attempted clandestine exchange. “We ain’t exactly keen to have the DEA here,” Dick said at last.

The cherry at the end of the joint atomized with a crackling hiss. Liebgott looked between Dick and Nix with extreme seriousness sullied only by his exhaling a dignified white cloud out his nose. Then he nodded, once, curtly, demonstrating he understood his orders as they had been relayed.

Nix flashed Dick what he thought was a what have you done type look. But Dick looked totally unbothered. He should have gone into this business years ago for how violently unflappable he was. He said to Liebgott, “I’ll get some blankets and you can make up the couch.”

Liebgott shook his head to say no need. He got up, careful not to scrape the chair against the floor, shook each of their hands again, and in less than a minute’s time he was back out the door with nothing more than what he’d come in with except the joint.

Nix and Dick, on the porch, listening to the crickets, watched him disappear into the darkness.

“Are we hallucinating,” said Nix eventually.

“I sure as hell hope not,” Dick replied. “We’ve got to ship all that product or we’ll starve.”

In the morning Nix was in the field, inspecting the plants. Liebgott was standing there at his quarter for god knew how long before he cleared his throat and Nix jumped about six feet in the air. There was a smirk shifting across Liebgott’s face that he would have been better about hiding when Nix had been his commanding officer. He looked like he hadn't slept. Back over there he had looked like that a lot, but it had been different, because of all the uppers they were taking. He cocked his head back over toward the long driveway and then he was off across the dew-wet grass which had already soaked through the hems of his canvas pants and his destroyed shoes.

Nix followed, like a duckling behind a hen. Liebgott still walked as though there were eyes in all sides of his head quickly processing information as he moved. Nix doubted you ever lost that kind of skill, even if in the real world it made you look like a mental patient. He caught up so they could walk side by side through the dew-wet grass. “What did you think,” he asked Liebgott.

Liebgott passed Nix the universal sign of furrowed brow that meant please clarify.

Nix gestured with pinched fingers to his own mouth as though Liebgott were also deaf. “The grass.”

He shaped his hand into an a-ok sign.

“You get any sleep?”

He nodded an infinitesimal nod, like the answer was a secret just for Nix to know.

“Well if you think it could be better just tell me how.”

Nix had had a high school friend whose sister was deaf from scarlet fever and whom he had watched on occasion communicate with her by means of sign language. Early on, back over there, he had sent off to command for a book, but by the time it came he understood it wasn’t that Liebgott couldn’t speak, he just didn’t want to. It was something like how people’s hair supposedly turned white if they witnessed some evil thing, or how people became ascetics in the name of god. If you were really fucked up on drugs or fear or otherwise, or if the natural magical thinking from childhood hadn’t been fully beaten out of you, you might have seen it as the sacrifice he had given to the forest for letting him out without a scratch so many goddamn times. It had been a bit of a trial to explain this to Spiers, who was practical almost to a fault, sometimes.

Liebgott showed another a-ok sign. Then he did a thumbs up which Nix knew meant it was good.

All in all it was smart. If he was still talking, Nix might have asked him, what have you been up to? You been sleeping on the street? You been to the V.A.? What did they tell you? And the answer would’ve been nothing good. Instead they just walked in the cool grass together in the sunshine and the morning was beautiful, and the air was sweet. It was all lovely until Liebgott had to physically stop him, laughing, somehow silently but also hysterically, from stepping right onto the razor-thin tripwire stretched invisibly across the dark gravel.

In the kitchen, Dick was doing the numbers. He took his glasses off when Nix came in and put the coffee on. “He learned a thing or two from Charlie,” Nix said, leaning against the counters.

“Who, Joe?”

“Our driveway is thoroughly ratfucked.”

“Hmm,” said Dick. He put the glasses back on and turned back to the accounting book. He was going to do this whole thing as above board as was humanly possible. The vivid daylight came through the window and struck the lens of his unstylish Ray-Bans and threw a kind of prism of color upon the white paper and the chicken-scratch sums. Nix felt like maybe this was something you would paint if you had the necessary implements and artistic ability. “Maybe we should see if we can get any more help.”

He was mildly ashamed to say it, but the doc had always kind of creeped Nix out. He imagined a hypothetical conversation with Dick, who he knew loved the kid, almost like a son: Listen, don’t get me wrong, he’s a good kid, I owe him my life, yadda yadda. But either he’s dropped the brown acid one too many times or the voodoo exorcism went FUBAR.

The doc had arrived on the farm on the heels of Sunshine and Rainbows, aka Mr. Bright Eyed and Bushy Tailed, aka one Edward “Babe” Heffron. Nix had written Babe in South Philly, being as he was a connoisseur of bud and once upon a time had been famed among their company for smoking anything anyone put in his hand, often to his own detriment. The operation was getting big enough that Nix needed another pair of hands, other than Liebgott, of course, who was still fortifying the long driveway whilst giving away his cover by playing Led Zeppelin IV as loudly as was possible. It was a tough calculation, because Babe was a genius of pot, but he couldn’t keep a damn secret, and lo and behold he had dragged along with him a dark shadow in the human form of Eugene Roe. They came up the driveway in a big old Ford pickup that rattled its rust off in the potholes. Liebgott had dismantled the traps specially for their arrival when they had called from Williamsport to say they were an hour out.

“I figured we could use a medical professional to lend some credibility to the operation,” said Babe thoughtfully, sparking a joint on the porch over sweating jam jars of iced tea.

Roe snorted or something but it wasn’t really a normal person’s self-effacing laugh. Winters clapped his back. Nixon knew Roe had dropped out of medical school after two years but there was no need to say anything. Everyone knew that. Now he was working construction and Babe claimed to be working as a mechanic in a garage, but this seemed suspect given the state of the car they had driven up in.

“Well we sure as hell are glad you boys are here,” said Dick magnanimously.

Babe exhaled an opaque cloud that rivaled Nix’s own father’s ability with a stogie. “Can we see the bush?”

They went out all together to the field and ducked between the rows of corn. Babe knelt in the soil. It was damp with dew and quiet in here. It would have been almost like over there except it smelled good. “What’s the cross,” Babe said, inspecting the plants.

“It’s an indica blend…”

“Well, I can tell that,” he said.

“So you’re an expert on the plant now too?”

“I’ve just smoked an awful lot of joints in my life, Captain Nixon.”

Roe snorted again. When they all looked to him he said, “You said in the letter there was some kind of altruistic reason for all this.”

“It’s medicine, Gene,” Babe said gently, but also like they had had this conversation thirty thousand times. Nix filed away for later the intimation that Roe had read the letter he’d sent Babe at home in South Philadelphia.

“I guess you don’t remember the psychic break you had at the Do Lung Bridge.”

Babe waved this remark off, even though Nix remembered it too. It threw a chill down his back, like a water balloon had hit him at the base of his neck. “That was laced,” Babe said.

“With what!”

“I don’t know! Something bad!” Babe turned to Dick and Nix. “Gene’s teetotal,” he said, like this was a big old point of contention.

So that counted out the bad acid. Maybe he was just like this. Maybe he had had those big sad bug eyes as a child or an infant or a fetus in the womb. “Good on you, Doc,” Nix said.

“I ain’t trying it,” Roe said, folding his arms over his narrow chest, “no matter what it does.”

The doc was a tough cookie. Babe had claimed, over there, about as high as the Byrds song, that the doc came from a long line of the kind of folks described in Dr. John’s “Gris-Gris Gumbo Ya Ya” and that, as such, he could heal wounds with his mind. When it didn’t work, as on the night when Jackson died, or the night when Hoobler died, or in the forest when Muck and Penkala died, or the night when Liebgott stopped speaking, he went to sit for a while on the edge of camp until Dick went over and made him eat something. Nix watched them in a state of confused envy, and then he went to write the letters to the families, so that Dick wouldn’t have to.

At dusk, after they ate a light dinner of corn on the cob and rice and beans, he took the boys up into the hayloft with an armful of blankets. “Sorry this is the best we got,” he said. He had said that about a hundred god damn times since they got here.

Roe looked like he wanted to say, you’ve got to stop apologizing for everything. Instead he said, “Where does Lieb sleep.”

Babe perked up. “Joe’s here?”

“You didn’t see him in the driveway?”

Nix sighed. “He’s gonna want to know what he did wrong that you saw him,” he said.

“Does he still — ”

Nix shook his head. “Not a peep.”

In a couple days time, he couldn’t take it anymore, and he was hot and tired and stoned, up to his elbows in earth in the field, showing Babe how to replant the hatchlings he’d grown from seed. “You guys room together or what?”

“Me and Gene?” Babe’s eyes were red in the corners from smoking and from the sun. “What about you and Dick?”

Dick, who had the radio on inside turned up as loud as it would go, so that they would hear it in the field, playing Crosby Stills and Nash doing “Suite: Judy Blue Eyes.” “What about me and Dick?” said Nix.

Babe was a smart kid. He realized this was going nowhere. With muddy hands he popped one of the seedlings out of its little pot and cradled it into the ground. “Well, I think he thinks he’s looking after me, but in actuality, I am looking after him.”

#my fic #asks

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naivesilver · 4 years

Note

31, 56, 19, 78, 20, 16, 11, 12 , 10, 4, 1, 21, 36, 39. Sorry if this is too many 😅

Guys it’s NEVER too many you’re giving me the chance to talk nonstop about Sonic it’s the best thing that’s happened to me in days

also I had planned to answer them in the order you asked for but it was driving me crazy so I sorted them out thematically sorry alfhjkhljshja

I answered 1 here!

100 Sonic Questions

21.) Tell us a funny Sonic-related story.

This one comes from the depths of my very first months as a Sonic fan. Basically, I had watched Sonic X upon its first Italian release as a very very smol bean. By the time I got obsessed again in middle school, though, I had forgotten everything about it except a few shots from the Italian opening theme and ONE scene from a season three episode, where Sonic and Knuckles played chess on a spaceship and then Sonic began running around and fell into space.

The “friend” that had introduced me to the show again (not a nice person and source of about 25% of my trauma, I’m glad to say I haven’t seen her in years) didn’t believe me and accused me of lying. Repeatedly. Unkindly. For months. How could such a stupid scene be in such an amazing cartoon? I must be trying to fuck with her.

Fast forward to the end of the year. I’m minding my business and I see a Facebook message from this friend, and another, and another. I click on it wondering what she’d be going ham over, and BAM. This girl had been watching Sonic AMVs on Youtube and had caught a glimpse of that scene at the beginning of a video and was fucking losing it over the fact that WOW, I HAD BEEN TELLING THE TRUTH ALL ALONG?!

Now, you have to understand that I wasn’t the kind of kid that swore, back then. I had been brought up to think that swear words would send you to hell straight away. And while not a delicate little flower, I was much, much cuter and more proper than I am now because I couldn’t live out my butch dreams quite yet. But I needed to express all the frustration gathered in those months.

So please imagine this baby-faced, straight A student 13yo wait for her friend in front of their school and bellow at the top of her lungs “BITCH, WHAT DID I FUCKING TELL YOU?”

I still remember that scene fondly, though.

31.) Tell us a Sonic-related story that will give us feels.

Related to the experience I just mentioned, the problem I had in my first years in this fandom was that this person who had dragged me into it was obsessed with the thought that people would mock us for it. She said it was for kids, and when she got over it she gave me shit for clinging to my passion while she’d “grown up”, and she had me enjoy Sonic in secret and yelled at me for saying anything even vaguely related out loud where other people could hear us.

It got into my head so much that for a long long time I didn’t dare share anything Sonic-adjacent on any social media, long past when I’d broke away from her. I thought no one would ever take me seriously again. I felt ashamed a lot.

It got better, though. Slowly, I broke out of my shell and started interacting with this amazing fandom, and I found lots of people who didn’t give a damn about what the world thought of their passion. And I know tons of wonderful people outside the fandom, too, friends who encourage me to talk about Sonic even though they don’t know anything about it. Chats where any mention of Sonic has someone saying “wait we must tag naivesilver into this she’ll love it”. It’s - it warms my heart every day. Tumblr is a shithole, but it helped me in feeling free to do what I love in the fandom that I love most.

Thank you. To everyone that got me through that, thank you. You have no idea how helpful you’ve been to me.

19.) Favorite soundtrack

KNOCK KNOCK IT’S FUCKING KNUCKLES

youtube

20.) Least favorite soundtrack?

None I think???? There are some I don't listen to much, either because I haven't played the game or I just don't vibe with them, but there isn't any song that I particularly dislike. Almost all of them are genuine bops.

16.) (if you read fanfic) What are some fic tropes you love? Ones you hate?

FOUND FAMILY!!! Adoptive parents, siblings, friends taking care of each other, I want a shitton of fluff in my life. And kid!fic. I could read (and write!) kid!fic every day for the rest of my life and never get tired of it. That's why I enjoy Chaotix and Sonic Movie fics so much. Let's raise them boys well.

As for hating...I don't like high school AUs lmao I wrote one when I was younger but I never dared touch it again and I haven't read any Sonic one since 2014 at most. And most time travel fics. Sorry, Silver, I love you a fucking lot but time travel shenanigans are only funny in the two or three specific settings my mind lets me enjoy.

11.) Top five stages.

In no particular order:

-Press Garden (Mania)

-Casinopolis (Adventure)

-Casino Forest (Forces)

-Studiopolis (Mania)

Anddddd I haven't played much else so I'll have to get back to you on this ajshfkjfahlljha

12.) Worst five stages.

-IMPERIAL TOWER

-Jesus Christ I died 78 times in that stage alone

-I'm bad at being fast and not falling off stuff and it required me to do both at the same time

-Also the Shadow DLC levels. Fuck me up a bit more will you

56.) In your opinion, what’s the weirdest thing any character has ever said?

I'm a simple girl, I see this panel and I lose my shit

10.) What do you like best about your favorite animated adaptation?

I only finished my Sonic X rewatch yesterday and I’ve been meaning to make some final comments about it (tho it’d probably be me rambling at thin air bc I doubt I can say anything that hasn’t been already said over and over and over) but the most compelling thing for me is and always will be the music.

Don’t get me wrong, what I’ve seen of the OG Japanese version had wonderful, heartfelt music, but the upbeat themes I grew up with still have me vibing day in and day out. I can dance to the Italian opening sequence at any given moment - no, you know what, here it is. Watch it and feel the serotonin drip into your veins.

(Some people will come at me for this, but I didn’t watch this show in 2019-2020 to make an in-depth analysis about it. I did it to have a dance off while Knuckles beat up some robots.)

78.) Post a scene that always gives you feels.

Sonic 06:

youtube

13yo me about to see her first ship torn apart:

4.) The last Sonic game you played is now your life. How awesome is this adventure gonna be?

Sonic Adventure - which means it’s a pretty cool life, unless it runs like SA does on my laptop and it turns slow and glitchy and grinds on my nerves even more

36.) C’mon now. How many ships do you have? :P

A FUCKING LOT my main ones are silvaze, vecpio and sonadow but I have many medium or small ones that I enjoy finding content for, like tikaze or knouge

39.) Which game is your golden standard?

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, I’m not the greatest game fan as in I’ve only been actively playing for the past 2/3 years. Before that it was just gameplays on Youtube, so you should not take my opinion into any account since it’s not very informed.

However there was something about Sonic and the Black Knight that just felt...new? Peculiar? I know jack shit about the technical side of gaming but I remember being extremely pumped every time I logged in to see more of it. I'd like to feel that again, when a new game drops.

#Anonymous #sonic #sonic the hedgehog

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nonexistent-anime-echo · 5 years

Text

Cole's A Vampire: Part 3

A/N: I think I'm going to call this an AU. Can I call it an AU? I mean it seems like an AU and not just a random vampire fanfiction. I also just think getting AU asks would be fun. If I did get AU asks for this, I'd probably answer them both with text and drawings so I can work on my human drawing skills. TW: Blood, mentions of killing (both people and animals), poor mental health

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

----

"I can't believe I did that," Cole whispered shakily. He'd cried himself dry of tears an hour prior, so Jay was hugging him, trying to comfort him.

"Cole, it's not your fault," Jay said quietly.

"I-I don't want to go to a vampire hospital," said Cole. He felt his eyes stinging, and quickly stood up. "My eyes are watering," he explained to Jay, who was looking at him, clearly confused.

"Oh," said Jay. "Okay."

"What if something happens to the city while they're gone? We can't do anything! I'll just make the situation worse and you're still getting used to not being solid!"

"Calm down, everything'll be fine. We'll get a call from the others and Kai will be okay."

The phone rang inside. Jay and Cole ran in; Cole was the one to grab the phone.

"Hello?"

"H-He's stable," said Lloyd. "They said he should survive. He's still unconscious though."

Cole started crying. He covered his mouth with his hand and looked at Jay. Jay gave him a minute to calm down.

"I — I want to visit my dad," said Cole. "He might know how to help me control myself."

"Okay," said Jay. "How are we gonna get there?"

Cole thought for a minute.

"Our elemental dragons?"

"That'll work," said Jay. A few seconds later there was a blue dragon in front of him. He hopped on it. Cole got on his.

----

"Hey, Dad," said Cole, looking at the vampire in front of him.

"Hello, Cole! Who's this?"

"Jay. You remember him, right?"

"Vaguely. How'd he get turned into a ghost?"

Jay answered for Cole.

"It's a long story," he said.

"Anyway, I need your help," said Cole, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "I've been having an extremely difficult time controlling my urges. That's how Jay was turned into a ghost, and a couple hours ago I almost killed my boyfriend. The blood the hospital's giving me isn't helping me much."

"You used to have so much control, what happened?" asked Lou, looking at Cole with a worried expression.

"I had a little too much control," Cole answered, looking at Lou. "I refused to get blood from anywhere, so I got sick. I tried a heart transplant, but it didn't do anything."

"Your mother tried the heart transplant too," said Lou with a sad expression. "It didn't help her either. They had no choice but to —"

"Kill her," Cole finished. "I don't want that to happen to me."

"I don't know how to help," said Lou. "The most advice I can give you is limit your blood intake, but that didn't do much for your mother."

Cole, Lou, and Jay stayed silent for a few minutes.

"The reason I attacked Kai in the first place is because his blood type is my favorite," said Cole. "B negative. It's almost like I crave his blood specifically, but I don't want to kill him. The more of his blood I get, whether he donates it or not, the more I get urges to attack him."

"I — don't know what to do about that," said Lou.

"If you can tell what blood type a human has by scent, what blood type did I have?" asked Jay, who was now sitting on the floor.

"O positive," said Cole. Jay looked at him curiously.

"So how long did I keep your cravings at bay for?" he asked, playing with a loose thread in the carpet.

"About two days," said Cole. "My cravings hadn't fully kicked in y — why are you comfortable talking about your death with the vampire that killed you?"

"I don't know," said Jay. "I'm surprised too."

Lou's phone rang.

"Hello? Cole, it's for you."

Cole grabbed the phone from Lou.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Cole." Kai's voice sounded a little shaky. Tears stung at Cole's eyes.

"Kai —"

"I know what you're going to say. It wasn't your fault you attacked me. You need to remember that."

"How was it not my fault, Kai?" Cole said a little angrily. "They're my urges, my temptations, my choices —",

"Because you're having a hard time controlling yourself," said Kai. "It's almost like you're out of control."

Cole stayed silent for a minute.

"Cole —"

"I'm not going to visit you and risk killing you," said Cole almost angrily. "I love you, I really do, but I'm not about to risk killing you."

He heard Kai sigh.

"I at least want to know you're okay," he said. "Jay's there, right?"

"Yeah," sighed Cole, putting the phone on speaker. He set the phone down on the table.

"Is he doing okay, Jay?" asked Kai.

"Yeah," said Jay. "I think, at least."

He glanced at Cole nervously. Cole looked at him, sticking his tongue out and crossing his arms.

"Maybe not," said Jay. "He's doing his best, that's what matters."

"You're right," said Kai, sighing. "I-I love you, Cole."

Cole's expression changed from mild defiance to sadness.

"I love you, too, Kai."

----

"Kai, he'll be fine," said Nya, looking at Kai nervously. It had only been about ten minutes since he'd gotten off the phone with Cole.

"But what if he isn't?" Kai asked nervously. "If he hadn't —"

"Kai, don't say it," said Lloyd. "You should be thankful that Cole didn't kill you. It mean he's regaining control. If he'd killed you, he might've gone on a killing spree. Attacking people is only making his urges stronger and harder to control."

"How would you know that?" asked Kai, glaring at Lloyd.

"We've done our research," said Zane. "I guess technically I didn't have to research it, but I helped Lloyd do some research."

Kai yawned.

"We'll let you get some sleep, Kai," said Lloyd, standing up. "It'll help you heal faster. See you later."

"Bye."

----

"You're — You're a vampire!"

Kai stared at Cole, whose eyes were glowing red. His fangs were protracted.

"Kai, I won't hurt you," said Cole, retracting his fangs. "Trust me. I would've attacked you before now if I wanted to attack you."

Kai looked at Cole cautiously.

"I promise," said Cole. He smiled. Kai smiled back. Cole turned a little red. "M-Maybe we can go to a movie or something? Sometime?"

Kai looked contemplative for a minute.

"Sure."

"I'll try to keep my fangs retracted if it makes you feel better," said Cole.

"You don't have to," said Kai. "I kinda like your fangs."

Cole smiled, fangs protracted.

"If you say so," he said. "C'mon. We have some training to do."

----

If only I had that much self-control now, Cole thought, relaxing on Lou's couch. Jay was sitting in a chair next to him.

"Don't you think they'll get worried, Cole?" he asked, looking at Cole worriedly.

"They're safer with me here, where I can't attack them," said Cole. His eyes started to water as he remembered his promise to Kai.

I won't hurt you…

"Jay?" said Cole, looking at the ghost next to him.

"Yeah?"

"I — I broke a promise I made to Kai," said Cole.

"What was that promise?"

"I promised him I'd never hurt him when he found out I was a vampire."

"It's not your fault you attacked him, Cole," said Jay gently.

"You and the other four keep telling me that," mumbled Cole.

"It's really not your fault though, Cole," said Jay. "You at least seem to be regaining control of yourself."

"But I still so badly want to attack Kai again," said Cole. "That's why I'm not going to visit him. Kai's my boyfriend, if I killed him I'd never be able to forgive myself."

"There are doctors there to restrain you," said Jay. "The point I'm trying to make is you can't stay cooped up on your dad's couch for the rest of time. And Kai needs to see you're okay."

Cole stayed silent for a few minutes.

"If you start getting ready to attack, the doctors can restrain you," said Jay. "They can do what they did when you attacked that woman."

"I'd rather not," said Cole. "I don't think you understand what it's like to be stabbed in the arm while you're attacking someone."

"Well, we have to do something so Kai knows you're okay," said Jay, looking at Cole with a slightly worried expression.

"I just really don't want to risk attacking Kai again, Jay," said Cole. He didn't make eye contact with Jay.

"If you won't visit him, at least tell him you're doing okay," said Jay.

"But I'm not," said Cole, looking at Jay. "I just almost killed my boyfriend, Jay. I'm not okay."

"You'll get better with time," said Lou, walking into the room.

"Mom didn't," Cole mumbled.

"I — I have faith in you, Cole," said Lou, looking at Cole nervously.

"We all do," said Jay. "You can regain control. You have to try."

Cole nodded and laid down.

----

"I hope he's doing okay," said Kai, looking at Nya.

"Okay," said Lloyd. Kai and Nya looked at him; Zane was on his back, smiling.

"What? Am I holding on too tight?"

"No," said Lloyd. "You're light as a —"

They watched as Lloyd fell. Zane fell backwards.

"Are you sure I wasn't holding on too tight?"

A nurse ran into the room.

"Is everything okay?" he asked frantically.

"Yeah," said Lloyd. He rubbed his head a little. "I just fell. Don't worry about him, he's titanium," he added as the nurse looked over at Zane and opened his mouth.

"What?"

"He's an android," Kai explained. "I mean, he's clearly not human."

"Oh," said the nurse. "If — If everything's okay, I guess I'll just go —"

The nurse walked out of the room.

"You are okay, right, Zane?" asked Lloyd, standing up.

"Yeah, I'm fine," said Zane. "How are you doing, Kai?"

"I'm doing okay," Kai replied.

"Your vitals are stable, that's good," said Zane.

"Can we try to call Cole again?" asked Kai. He winced as his IV tube caught on the blanket.

"Yeah," said Lloyd. "Hopefully he's doing okay."

Zane grabbed the phone next to Kai's bed and dialed Lou's number, putting it on speaker.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Jay," said Zane, smiling. "Kai wanted to talk to Cole."

"If he's up to it," added Lloyd.

"Cole, Kai wants to talk to you!" they heard Jay shout.

"Is he coming?" asked Kai, looking at the phone.

"No," said Jay. "He — He's still trying to cope with the fact that he almost killed you, Kai. He keeps telling me he's not okay. He tells me he feels better distancing himself from you guys because if he's not near you he can't attack you. He's comfortable around me because he isn't tempted to attack me since I'm a ghost, but since three of you are human —"

"What about me?" asked Zane, looking at the phone with an eyebrow raised.

"He hasn't said anything," said Jay. "I think since you're solid and I'm not, that might have something to do with it. He — He also thinks talking to Kai is going make the urges worse."

They heard Cole crying in the background.

"Let me talk to him, Jay," said Kai, adjusting his position on his bed.

"Cole, Kai wants to talk to you," Jay said gently on the other line. "He's worried about you."

"If he won't talk, I will," said Kai. "C-Cole, I know you're mad at yourself. But it wasn't your fault. I don't want this to change our relationship. Please make sure you're taking care of yourself. If not for yourself, do it for me. I love you."

Kai laid down. Tears were starting to run down his face.

"I'll see if I can get him to talk," said Jay. "I guess I'll see you later. Bye."

"Bye."

----

"How do other vampires drink this?"

Cole stared at the limp, bleeding horse in front of him. Lou had taken him out to try animal blood while Jay went to visit Kai, Lloyd, Nya, and Zane.

"It's not that bad," said Lou. "Not to me at least."

"I wouldn't be able to drink this on a regular basis, though," said Cole. "It's a little too bitter for me. I wish I could live off this instead of human blood."

"Is it sustaining you?" asked Lou, looking at him.

"Not really," Cole replied. "I need human blood, animal blood doesn't do me any good."

"How long has it been since you last had blood?" Lou looked at Cole, worry on his face.

"About two or three days," said Cole. "I haven't had blood since I attacked Kai. Horse blood isn't doing anything to calm me down."

"How about I go get you some blood when Jay gets back? I don't want you to get sick."

"Okay. Can you try to get B negative?"

"Of course."

It was about forty five minutes before Jay got back.

"Okay," he said as he got off his dragon. "I'm back. Kai's really worried about you, Cole."

"I know," said Cole. "But I'm not about to risk attacking him."

"Is that horse's blood doing anything?" Jay asked, looking at the dead horse.

"No."

"I'll be back in a little bit," said Lou. "I'll be back with some blood."

"Okay. Thanks," said Cole. Lou left, leaving Cole and Jay alone in the grass. They stayed silent for a few minutes; Cole stared at the bite mark in the horse's neck and Jay kept his eyes on Cole.

"We should go back to your dad's in case the others call," said Jay. Cole nodded and stood up. They walked to Lou's house quietly.

"I don't think we should draw attention to ourselves, especially since my dad and I just killed a horse," said Cole. "It's a little chilly."

He curled up on the couch when they got to the house.

"Are you doing okay, Cole?" asked Jay, looking at Cole with a concerned expression.

"I'm just a little cold," said Cole. A few seconds later a blanket was put over him. "Thanks, Jay."

"You're welcome," said Jay, smiling. After a couple of minutes, Cole's breathing slowed down and he was quietly snoring.

----

"Cole? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Kai," Cole said, smiling. He was doubled over with his arm across his stomach.

"If — If you need blood, take mine," said Kai. He held out his wrist. "I don't want you to get sick."

"But if I lose control —"

"It would be my fault for letting you drink my blood in the first place," interrupted Kai. He shoved his wrist in Cole's face; he winced as Cole pierced his skin. Cole drank a little bit, then stopped. He wiped his mouth.

"Thanks, Kai," he said.

"You're welc —" Kai let out a yelp of surprise. Cole was kissing him, his arms wrapped around Kai's waist. Kai eased into it after a few seconds.

"I want it to be like this forever," whispered Kai after they broke apart. "I'd give anything."

"Me too."

----

I'd give anything…

Kai was in his hospital room, staring at the ceiling. His eyes stung with fresh tears.

I'd give anything…

Worry pricked at his stomach. He hadn't heard anything from or about Cole in several days. He didn't even know if Cole was still —

No. He had to be alive.

But what if he isn't…

"Kai?"

Jay's voice snapped Kai from his thoughts.

"Hi, Jay. What's up?"

Jay moved away from the doorway.

"C-Cole!"

Cole ran over to Kai, hugging him tightly.

"I've — I've been losing sleep over you, you jerk!"

"I was protecting you from me," said Cole. "I have a better handle on myself, I feel like you're safer around me now than you were before. At least, I'm not so tempted to attack you."

"Then you can go back to the monastery?" asked Kai, looking at Cole hopefully.

"I'd have to let my dad know I'm leaving first," said Cole.

"Are your fangs protracted?" asked Jay, walking over to Kai's bed and sitting on the chair next to it.

"Nope," said Cole, smiling.

"Then I guess we don't have to expect you attacking any of us any time soon," said Kai. He kissed Cole lightly.

"Hey, I'm here too —" said Jay a little nervously.

"Sorry," said Cole, breaking the contact with Kai. "Well, I'll go talk to my dad about going back to the monastery. I'll come back after, I promise."

"Love you!" said Kai as Cole walked out the door.

"I love you too."

----

"Cole! You're okay!"

Nya ran over to Cole and hugged him.

"Calm down, Nya, he has a boyfriend," said Lloyd, laughing.

"Yep, I'm okay," said Cole a little awkwardly. "I don't have such bad blood cravings anymore."

"That's good," said Zane. Nya let go of Cole and stepped away from him.

"So you feel safe being around us now?" asked Lloyd.

"If I didn't I wouldn't be here," said Cole.

"Kai gets out of the hospital tomorrow," said Zane. "We should go to bed, then we can get up early tomorrow and get Kai."

----

"Maybe this can sustain me for a little bit?" said Cole, looking at the deer in front of him. "I mean, deer blood isn't extremely bad."

"As long as it keeps you from attacking people," said Lloyd.

"Can we keep the antlers?" Kai asked excitedly, looking at the buck's head. The others stared at him. "What? We technically hunted it, it didn't go to waste, and it has some pretty decent antlers! We didn't poach it!"

Cole, Jay, Zane, Lloyd, and Nya exchanged glances.

"I guess," said Zane. "You're cleaning them though."

It was a few hours before they got went to the monastery. Kai carried the buck's antlers, smiling.

"We went hunting!" he said happily as they walked inside; Wu was staring at them.

"I thought I'd try deer blood," explained Cole. "I can handle it, but it won't sustain me for very long, I don't think. I'm still satisfied from it though."

"Good," said Wu. He looked at the antlers Kai was holding.

"He insisted we keep the antlers," said Lloyd. "We — We probably should've asked you first, right?"

"Yes, but it's too late now," said Wu. "Put them somewhere safe."

Kai's smile grew and he ran to put the antlers away. Cole followed him.

"You're too happy about those antlers," he said, laughing.

"They're cool!" said Kai.

"Whatever makes you happy," said Cole.

----

A/N: Unless I get people literally begging me to write another chapter of this, this is the last chapter of the "Cole's a vampire" saga. I want to keep this story/AU alive through asks, so if you want you can submit an ask.

#ninjago #ninjago jay #ninjago nya #ninjago kai #ninjago cole #ninjago zane #ninjago lloyd #jay walker #nya smith #kai smith #cole brookstone #zane julien #lloyd garmadon #ninjago vampire au #ninjago au #lavashipping

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